#hi - I'm a pendulum of emotion...

[druidx]

I'm nearly done!!

...

oh, gods, I'm nearly done...

[cheralith]

ON MY KNEES BEGGING PLEASE MORE KAISER X HOGWARTS AU PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🫡

characters ; slytherin!kaiser, professor!kaiser | wc ; 1.9k contains ; hogwarts au, aged-up characters, kind of major character death (?), gn!reader, no pronouns used, not edited as of 02/17

i'm gonna come back to the present with this one, where you and kaiser are years older, both respectable professors with a rivalry that just cannot die down for the life of itself. he's preparing a boggart for tomorrow's class period for his defense against the dark arts class, watching as some of the academy's attendants roll in an antiqe grandfather clock, where it shakes violently on the cart despite all the chains its confined in.

it had been awhile since he had faced a boggart, he thinks to himself as the attendants settle the clock down with a loud thud. he figures he has to tame it it for a bit to be suitable for the children—apparent enough so that the lesson can be taught properly, but not so much so that it'd harm them (though, he does supposes that one bratty gryffindor third year could do with some discipline).

he mutters an appreciation of thanks to the attendants that leave, giving them their respects to one of hogwarts acclaimed professors of the decade. kaiser eyes the chains on the clock and casts a spell that retracts them from the clock. the shaking eventually settles itself down, now with less restrictions to confine the creature it holds. kaiser sighs and cracks his necks free of tension, removing his reading glasses and wanting to get this over with so he can hurry up and attend his final duties for tonight.

he was fourteen when he confronted a boggart for the first time. it was in front of anyone that he revealed his worst fear was his very own father, and the boggart stood before him in the shape of his old man the last time he saw him before he was taken away and left kaiser to fend for himself as an orphan. there he stood in front of kaiser—in a greasy wifebeater stained with beer and striped underpants that just barely covered himself. a large scowl appeared on his face, the last emotion kaiser saw on him before a couple of aurors took him away from that wretched home.

now in his late twenties, kaiser can't imagine that much has changed. he's seen and dealt with things much more horrifying than a drunken father, but his courage withstood all, and the fear was short-lived. the image of his father, however, still managed to stain his head even after all these years.

as he circles his desk, he stares at the grandfather clock, cocking a brow when it begins to shudder again the closer he comes to it; as though it can sense his presence. he waits patiently, his wand at the ready in his hand as the pendulum door slowly opens with a familiar hand creeping out. kaiser's eyes narrow, recognizing the wedding band that wounds itself around a swollen finger.

eventually, the figure of his father steps out of the case, deep blue eyes that match kaiser's own staring directly up at him. kaiser was only barely four feet tall when his father was permanently severed from his life. he towers over him now, at six foot two, but despite it, he still feels a slight falter in his knees.

the father/boggart smirks evilly, the beer bottle fisted in his right hand going to point at him accusingly.

"sub-human trash," the father/boggart spits at him, saliva speckling onto kaiser's cheek. "useless. a creature that's lower than animals, than filth itself!"

kaiser huffs a spare lock of hair out of his face, feeling slightly unfazed when the father/boggart approaches him eerily slow. he yawns tiredly, preparing his wand to conduct a spell.

"you're a piece of sh—"

the boggart/father suddenly stopped in its tracks, stuttering. it attempted to sound the word "shit" out, but was stuck on the "sh" syllable, repeating it over and over again as its form wobbled and shook. kaiser stiffens suddenly, a crease in his forehead forming from the furrow of his brows when the boggart stays paralyzed in its spot.

this was odd. this had never happened before. he hadn't even casted the charm yet, so he was perplexed as to why it was already beginning to change when he hadn't done anything yet.

the boggart/father groans out suddenly, as if it was in pain, then suddenly its current form vanished into black smoke, before it quickly resembled a new form that made kaiser's blood run cold.

confounded, he was no longer staring at the image of his father, but rather...

you.

you stand still in front of him ever so patiently, a soft smile that you rarely ever gave to him upon your lips. your hair still as elegant as ever, falling and framing your face in a portrait-like fashion. you had your everyday cloak on, looking nothing less of lovely despite the plain-looking clothes. your eyes, warm and inviting, as they soften at him.

kaiser saw you everyday since you and him started working together, whether it be in passing or in the same meeting room. but in this form, you looked more radiant than usual, almost hypnotizingly so.

something switched in kaiser's brain. you were normally untouchable to him, some sort of forcefield around you that constantly kept him at bay away from you. you always seemed to constantly keep him at arm's distance, just close enough for him to look at you clearly but never touch you. yet, somehow, this form of you seems to have gotten rid of that shield around you and you're looking at him with a placidity that you only granted to those that were deserving of it.

so kaiser's breath hitched accordingly so when your voice had whispered out a gentle sound to him that made his head spin.

"michael," you greet so tenderly to him, the smile still settled on your lips.

michael...

right, his name. his... his first name. his given name. it felt odd hearing it sometimes, considering that the name never came out of his own father's lips because he thought of saying his own son's name felt like a sin as it was one of the last things his ex-lover had left him sparingly. he was used to being referred to as his last name, so whenever he heard "michael", even if it wasn't directed towards him, it made kaiser's heart clutch with a longing.

but hearing it from your own lips made a familiar weakening in his knees spread throughout the course of his body. it felt... melodious to him, when it came out of your voice. you beckon him so fondly with it, and kaiser can't help but take a step forward with a hand out towards you.

the moment his entire foot sets itself on the ground, however, granting him one step closer to you, a horrid spark of green light suddenly shoots out from behind you, striking you directly from the back and webbing you with green lightening. you let out an excruciatingly painful shriek that echoes hauntingly through the classroom before you go limp and crumple to the ground, lying face up.

kaiser's jaw unhinges from itself, a strangled sound coming out of his throat when he stares what was in front of him.

he automatically takes his step back, creating a space between you and him as your face falls toward him, your eyes visibly having no life and warmth left in them. his chest tightens and hands shake as his body continues to force him to stare at your lifeless body in front of him.

his mouth goes dry, body frozen in place. kaiser suddenly feels his fingers twitch and uses that singular act of rebellion in his body to cast the charm before the shock fully settled into place inside his body.

"RIDDIKULUS!" he hollers, his wand pointing at your lifeless body before the charm protrudes out of his wand and transforms the boggart into a figure of yoichi isagi getting tomatoes thrown at him from an invisible crowd. normally such a sight would make kaiser laugh hysterically, but the shock from before instills some remnants in his nerves, so he casts the boggart back into its rightful place and unsheathes the chains back to it, the grandfather clock thrashing against them once again.

kaiser staggers to a nearby desk to steady himself, his vision blurring from the adrenaline rush. the boggart, though confined back into the case of the clock, ghosts the figure of your lifeless body on the floor as kaiser attempts to examine his surroundings. a hand goes to his neck and gives it a firm squeeze, spurring reality back to himself.

deep breaths and gasps inhale and exhale out of his lungs, as though to pump out the leftover daze from himself. he falls into the desk chair, holding his pounding forehead in his hand.

he knew that people could have multiple fears that the boggart could possess the form of, but he thought his only one true fear was his father spatting insults left and right to him. he's had to rid of boggarts before and they've always had the same form of that good-for-nothing father, so kaiser's head rushes with questions of what changed.

but more importantly, why did it change into you? into an image where kaiser witnessed your death?

he earns more questions than answers as he tries to regulate himself. the throbbing in his forehead doesn't seem to be stopping soon, so kaiser drags a hand down his face as he stares miserably at the shaking grandfather clock.

he jolts suddenly, hearing the unclicking of the classroom door. his head snaps towards it and he stands up too quick for his own good, feeling his head rush from the lack of blood that makes him stumble a bit.

you poke your head into the defense against the dark arts classroom, your eyes wandering for a specific blonde before you find him standing dumbly in the middle of it.

kaiser's eyes widen at your sudden appearance, fighting the urge to look back at the grandfather clock to make sure it was actually you, the true you. the you that still has a pulse.

"hey, the meeting is about to start in a few," you mention as you open the door wider. "don't be late. the headmaster might give you another lecture again."

kaiser doesn't respond, but instead stares at you silently with an unreadable expression, as though he was petrified.

you snap your fingers, breaking him out of his trance. "you good?"

kaiser suddenly finds the stiffness in his spine suddenly disappear when the sound of your snapping fingers rings in his ears, making the fuzziness in them tune out. he blinks rapidly, rubbing his eyes.

the figure of you leaning on the doorframe clears itself in his field of vision. you raise a brow.

"huh? oh. yeah, the meeting," kaiser mutters through a dry throat.

you roll your eyes and kaiser can see that familiar glaze of life in them that manages to expel the shock for good from his mind. you were alive. you always have been. you're standing right in front of him, arms crossed with a disapproving look on your perfect face, a frown adorned on your perfect lips.

"they figured you'd forget, so they asked me to come fetch you," you sigh, examining your fingernails. you begin to shut the door behind you, ignorant to the spell you've casted on him.

"starts in ten. do not be late!" you call out just before you slam the door on him and leave kaiser all alone with his thoughts in the classroom.

[sodapopper]

I have something to say about Soda, and y’all are not going to like it. But I have to speak my truth.

I absolutely love that as a fandom we’re starting to humanize him and recognize his character for more than just a comedic bystander. But sometimes it feels like the pendulum now swings too far in the other direction, and some of these takes have turned him into a completely different character.

Yes, Soda is more than just his sweetness. He’s got anger and recklessness and grief, too. But exploring and developing that hidden depth shouldn’t be at the expense of his compassion and good-nature, which are still fundamental parts of his character. The sweetness doesn’t stop existing just because he’s also capable of darkness. They can and should coexist: that’s the entire point of complexity.

I keep seeing posts that use Ponyboy’s unreliable narration to argue away Soda’s sweetness, and I’ll be honest, it irritates me. Ponyboy is misguided, but he’s not outright wrong about what he observes. Darry is hard and cold. Johnny is frightened and nervous. Dally is tough and mean. And Soda is reckless and compassionate. Ponyboy might miss the subtlety of motivation (Darry is harsh, but not because he hates his brother) but he’s truthful about what’s externally obvious.

And yes, Ponyboy idolizes Soda, but the cause of his hero worship is rooted in Soda’s kindness towards him. If Darry were more emotionally present, Ponyboy would likely idolize him, too. But Ponyboy’s hero worship doesn’t cause him to erase Soda’s flaws. In fact, he calls them out on multiple occasions—Soda’s recklessness, his academic failures, his inability to take anything seriously. Pony is even embarrassed by Soda when Cherry asks about him dropping out.

Similarly important to note is that Ponyboy isn't the only one who puts Soda on a golden pedestal. Darry is equally guilty of idealizing his brother, and it's because of the emotional labor Soda does for his family; not because Ponyboy has crafted a completely different version of his brother for the readers.

The fandom wants a complex Soda, and so do I. But complexity doesn’t equate darkness! His core traits don't need to be erased to prop up a version of the character that’s unrecognizably gritty and twisted. Soda is interesting because he’s kind. He’s interesting because he’s emotionally intelligent. He’s interesting because he listens. These things don’t make him perfect! They’re both his strength and his weakness.

Soda who lets himself be walked over. Soda who keeps the peace at the expense of voicing his honest opinion. Soda who hides pain with a manic glimmer in his eyes. Soda who holds it in until he can’t. Soda who explodes in grief or anger when pushed to his breaking point. Soda who can’t sit still. Soda who embraces his “stupidity” like a badge of honor to hide how much it hurts. Soda who nobody really knows, because he protects himself by focusing on others. Soda with a fear of abandonment. Glass child Sodapop. Beautiful and invisible. Slowly being killed by the pressure of a role he’s not strong enough to perform.

And yes, he's also angry. He's also reckless. He's also easily distracted and can't sit still and likes to fight. But good characterization happens when you explore these traits within the context of the other ones. The gentleness and roughness are not mutually exclusive; they can and should go hand in hand.

Instead of “oh I bet Ponyboy is lying, Soda probably yells at him all the time,” consider: what in Soda’s life would be hurtful enough to push him to yell at Ponyboy? Instead of “Ponyboy’s naive, I bet Soda drinks like crazy,” consider: what deeper motivation might keep Soda from drinking?

That's complexity.

Of course everyone has a right to interpret the character differently. And I'm not arguing against headcanons and aus—I just wish we could recognize them as headcanons, instead of trying to twist canon into supporting our own personal characterization. The dark takes are certainly interesting, and fun to toss around. But please, don't discredit the rich depth of his canon characterization as "not gritty enough;" Soda doesn't have to drink, scream, or be Dally to be interesting.

Make him go feral, please—but consider doing it in a way that makes sense for his character, and expands on who he is, instead of erasing it.

[lu-is-not-ok]

A Narcissistic reading of Hong Lu

Yup, I'm actually doing this.

To lay down some facts first: I have NPD, alongside a bunch of other things that coalesce into a nuclear concoction strong enough to kill every dark empath in a five mile radius. If I find you ableisting it up, I give myself the permission to smite you. This is a threat and a warning.

Now, let's talk about Hong Lu. Because as it turns out, he might just be the most difficult literacy check in Limbus Company according to what I've seen.

I could just say "I'm a narcissist and Hong Lu is just like me fr fr so he's a narcissist too" and end the post, but honestly, where's the fun in that? There are, legitimately, things I want to yap about, so I'm going to yap about them, and no chucklefucks can stop me.

So, to start this off, let's make one thing clear.

Hong Lu is not only a good actor, but also a skilled liar. The way he navigates conversations and the methods he uses are just as important to analyze as the actual words he says, if not more so. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that trying to understand him based Only on what he says and not how he uses the things he says would result in an understanding that's not only incomplete, but potentially outright wrong.

Now, this isn't really tied to why I think Hong Lu could be very reasonably read as having NPD, at least not directly. Narcissists aren't inherently evil liar manipulators, and if that's what you take away from this post, that's more of a you problem (and you can go ahead and block me considering I'm one of the evil liar manipulator narcissists according to you).

However, there is a reason why I have to bring it up. And it's because almost all of Hong Lu's narcissistic traits become a lot more obvious once you look at the exact ways he takes control of conversations.

With that out of the way, what exactly are we even looking for?

NPD, in my experience, primarily affects one's sense of self-worth and self-esteem. I personally found that the analogy of a pendulum makes the most sense to me - a narcissist's sense of self-worth can swing between massive highs and massive lows, almost never staying in a middle "balanced" position, with even the tiniest things being able to throw it to one side or another.

The ways this can present outwardly are. Quite frankly, way too fucking many to count. But there are some common threads we can keep in mind:

High sensitivity to criticism

Need for an external source of validation

Tendency to seek out ways to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful

So, does Hong Lu fit those criteria?

Well. Yeah. This post wouldn't exist if he didn't.

Let's talk about the first point, high sensitivity to criticism. And, immediately, I would like everyone to remember Hell's Chicken, specifically the scene where Meursault begins to verbally roast his team's dish, and in the process laying down a verbal smackdown on everyone involved. That scene ended like this.

Curious, isn't it? The moment Meursault was about to start criticising Hong Lu, he just jumps in and distracts Meursault with a change of topic - something even Dante's narration points out.

Mind you, this isn't an isolated event. This is just the most obvious example of Hong Lu exhibiting this kind of behavior.

Don't believe me? Just look at these.

These are all examples of Hong Lu either backpedaling, changing the subject, or otherwise trying to avoid the acknowledgement of something that criticizes his status, thought process, or (in the last example) which would reveal an emotional vulnerability.

This is a fairly consistent pattern for him, and that's not even getting into the fact that the line he says when hovering over him before a skill check he has a Very Low chance at succeeding in has him suddenly try to excuse himself and leave.

Hong Lu is absolutely highly sensitive to criticism, it's just that his primary emotional reactions aren't ones we're privy to. Instead, what we get to see is how he acts to try and minimize the impact of those criticisms, if not outright find ways to never let them leave someone's mouth in the first place.

Next up - need for external validation.

This one doesn't have as many examples as the previous point, as Hong Lu is a generally closed off person who keeps a certain level of distance from most other Sinners. However, that doesn't mean I don't have any.

One such example comes from Canto 4, where soon after acting out his part in the play, Hong Lu seeks validation from Yi Sang.

Then there's this moment in Canto 6, where Hong Lu, once again, seeks validation for something he's done.

And then there's also these lines from Hong Lu's various Identities.

Aaaand then there's these base Identity voice lines, which, if you ask me, feel a bit like fishing for compliments.

This point is a lot harder to say is a definitive one, mainly due to Hong Lu's more closed off projected personality. That being said, the fact that one can find examples of it despite that is pretty notable.

And for the final one - trying to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful.

This is one that's a bit harder to provide exact examples for, as again, Hong Lu isn't someone who talks about how he feels often, and when he does it's not always exactly trustworthy. He's not like Rodya, who while still putting on a facade, is pretty open and easy to read about how she actually feels.

But, there's still some non-mutually exclusive interpretations I want to posit here. Two, in fact.

One - I believe that for Hong Lu, the thing he sees as power is control.

See, avoiding criticism isn't the only time Hong Lu steers conversations. In fact, it's something he does All The Time. He's often the one asking questions to get the group moving, trying to gather information that might be relevant to him, and generally taking over the direction a conversation is going in. Chances are, if Hong Lu speaks up, it's likely to alter the conversation he joins in noticeable ways.

This, I think, is one of the ways Hong Lu makes himself feel more powerful. After all, it's not that hard to guess from what little bits of his background we have that Hong Lu lacked agency for most of his life. So, wouldn't it make sense for him that having that agency, that being able to be socially in control, would be the exact kind of thing that would boost his self-esteem?

In fact, the only times we see him rendered completely speechless, seemingly stripped of that confidence in conversations he usually exhibits, are in Canto 7 - specifically in scenes where he's Not In Control of what the others are talking about. Those scenes being when the other Sinners start shit-talking Xichun in front of him, and when Xichun actively tries to bother Hong Lu by alluding to the way he's been treated back at home.

Extremely confident until something external happens that utterly strips him of that confidence... sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Then, there's the second interpretation.

See, with NPD, there are two ways a narcissist can try to make themself feel more deserving of attention. One is the one most probably think of when they think about narcissists - setting out to fulfill extremely high goals to feel amazing when one reached them and then feeling utterly crushed in the case one doesn't. This would be someone like Rodya.

However, there is also another way, one which I personally have much more experience with - to undersell. To set extremely low expectations, so that it's as hard as possible to fail reaching them, and to feel way better upon surpassing them than one would with higher, more "regular" expectations.

This, to me, is exactly the kind of narcissist Hong Lu is. Think about it. He's constantly putting out this image of an extremely sheltered person that barely understands the outside world, with notable moments where it's made clear he's Just Making Shit Up at points. Wouldn't making one seem unable to do anything, only to then proceed to do things you've led people to not expect of you, make it feel like you're much more exceptional than you really are?

The underselling goes the other way too. When the other Sinners point out something odd about Hong Lu in a more positive way, he's often quick to point out how it's Nothing compared to what his Family expected of him. Wouldn't that make one feel exceptional, to make it seem like whatever effort you're putting in to do well is but a fraction of what else you can do? That you don't even have to try to be able to be special?

...So, there. That's all the analysis and interpretation I find important to do to get my point across.

Just to make it clear, I don't think that the only thing wrong with Hong Lu is the narcissism. There's definitely a lot more shit going on in that head of his. But, I'll be honest, the NPD reading felt so obvious to me that it genuinely took me by surprise that other people don't see it.

Though... maybe I shouldn't be shocked. Some fuckers out there still think Faust is a narcissist when she's literally just autistic.

[sweet-pea-channie]

Shadows of the Exile - Part 11

Azriel x female!reader

Summary: Y/N waits anxiously at Azriel’s bedside, hoping for a chance to speak with him once he wakes. When Azriel finally stirs from his injuries, the moment is quiet and tender—full of unspoken emotion.

Warnings: injury/healing, emotional vulnerability, emotional intimacy, mutual pining, “He fell first” energy, soft!Az

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: One more part and this story will be finished! Can't believe this story is coming to an end :( Also, tysm for your feedback! I love reading your comments! Can't wait to find out what you think about this part.

series masterlist

The days passed like a fog. Always the same, always heavy. Y/N had barely left the room. The chair by her bed was no longer just a seat – it had become an anchor. Her refuge. Her watchtower.

Azriel slept. And she watched.

The external wounds healed slowly, Madja came regularly, checked his condition, renewed bandages, and provided him with light elixirs. Feyre, Mor, and Nesta came and went. Rhys often stood by the door, silently watching before disappearing again.

But Y/N did not leave.

That evening, Cassian sat next to her. For the first time, longer. He had pulled the second chair beside the armchair, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed on Azriel. The soft ticking of the old pendulum clock was the only sound that filled the silence until Cassian quietly began to speak.

"I lost him," he said in a hoarse voice. "In the middle of the chaos. I thought he was behind me, like always... but then he was just gone."

Y/N turned her head slightly toward him but said nothing. She knew Cassian needed this moment.

"I would have given anything to find him right away. But I... I couldn't leave, not while the fight wasn't decided. So I kept fighting, but my eyes kept searching. Everywhere. In every movement, in every shadow, I thought I’d see him reappear. And eventually..." – his voice nearly broke – "there was only blood. Everywhere, blood."

Y/N closed her eyes for a moment, her hand still loosely around Azriel’s.

"I've never been so afraid," she whispered. "Not even when I was trapped. Not even when they took my wings." Her voice was brittle, dry.

Cassian looked at her – really looked at her. "You love him."

Y/N nodded ever so slightly. "I don't know if it's love. Or if it's just... more than words could ever grasp."

Without saying much, Cassian put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently to him. No words were necessary. No comfort better than this simple, constant "I'm here."

Y/N closed her eyes. For the briefest moment, she allowed herself to feel the exhaustion, the weight of the last few days. The warmth of Cassian’s embrace was like a whisper of safety, of family.

Then she heard it. A soft, raspy sound. Barely more than a groan. But it was there.

Her eyes snapped open. Her body tensed instantly. The sound came again – weak, raspy. And then something moved.

"Azriel?"

Cassian immediately jumped up, noticing it too. Azriel’s hand twitched slightly. His forehead pulled into a weak expression of pain. His lips moved soundlessly.

Y/N jumped up as if she had never been sitting in the chair. She was instantly at his side, kneeling on the bed, her hand tightly clutching his.

"Azriel! Hey – hey, I'm here! I'm here." Her voice trembled, but she smiled through the tears that immediately welled in her eyes. "Come on... wake up."

Azriel’s eyelids fluttered. Then – very slowly – his eyes opened. Weak. Flickering. But there.

"Thank the goddess," Y/N whispered, pressing her forehead against his hand, while Cassian silently stepped back, his eyes also glassy. In that moment, he knew something much greater had been saved than just the life of a brother.

"Hey, buddy..." Cassian’s voice was rough, but he forced a small smile as he stood again next to Azriel’s bed. "You scared us."

Azriel blinked slowly, his eyes still glassy, the shadows in them dull and tired. But when his gaze landed on Y/N, there was suddenly clarity. A whisper, barely audible, but so full of weight that it stopped time in the room for a moment.

"Y/N."

Y/N’s heart squeezed. She kept holding his hand, brushing her thumb over his knuckle, as if she needed to assure herself that this was really happening. That he was there. Cassian gently placed his hand on Y/N’s shoulder – a quiet gesture, a promise that he was there when she needed him – then he nodded to Azriel, almost reverently, as if stepping away from something sacred.

"I’ll leave you two alone." His voice was soft. Then he left the room, and a deep peace settled over the silence like a warm blanket.

Azriel tried to sit up. His muscles protested, his breath came in short, strained gasps – but before he could, Y/N placed her hand on his chest and gently but firmly pressed him back.

"No, don’t. Don’t get up." Her voice was soft but firm.

Azriel winced slightly. "I just want to sit up."

Y/N sighed quietly, a faint smile on her lips, and carefully helped him. Her movements were sure, familiar – as if she had done this countless times before. She pulled out two soft pillows, gently lifted him with quiet strength, and placed them behind him so he could lean back a bit more comfortably.

Azriel let out a weak, exhausted groan, but something flickered in his eyes – gratitude. Closeness. Maybe even a trace of peace.

Y/N briefly walked to a small cupboard by the wall, grabbed a dark blue glass bottle, and returned. Her fingers were calm, but her shoulders were still tense, as if she were still holding the pain of the past days deep within her.

"You should drink this. It’s for the pain," she said quietly as she unscrewed the small cap. She placed the bottle at his lips, and Azriel opened his mouth, taking the elixir – without flinching, even though it was bitter.

As he swallowed, he leaned back again, his eyes seeking hers once more. "You didn’t leave."

Y/N sat back in the chair beside his bed, her hand once more in his. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "I couldn’t."

Azriel closed his eyes. A deep, trembling breath left his chest, and his fingers weakly gripped hers.

He was alive. And she was there. And for a brief moment, that was all that mattered.

The light was soft, as if even the sun had decided to be quieter today. The shadows that fell through the window danced over the ceiling, over Azriel’s chest, which now rose and fell steadily. It was quiet – a rare, precious silence in which nothing needed to be said, but everything could be felt.

Y/N sat again in the chair beside him, her fingers again on his hand, as if each touch could bring him back to life just a little more. She had been silent for a long time – they both had. But now, she took a deep breath and slowly let go of his hand. Her voice was quiet but steady.

"I’d like to check your bandages again."

She stood slowly, the movement almost reverent. "I think a few need to be changed."

Azriel only nodded, his dark eyes searching her face as she began to pull the thin blanket aside. With skilful, gentle fingers, she opened the clasps of his shirt, which she had eventually put on him to keep the cool night air off his wounded skin. Carefully, she lifted the fabric and began to remove the first bandage from his side.

Azriel watched her silently as she worked, her magic flickering quietly over her fingertips – golden light, soft yet powerful. He saw how her lips trembled slightly, how her shoulders were still tense. It was not just care – it was relief. But also fear, slowly ebbing from her bones.

"Thank you," he said quietly. His voice was hoarse from the long sleep, but clear. "For everything. For what you did for me."

Y/N’s fingers paused, midway through changing the bandage across his chest. Her eyes searched his, cautious, uncertain. Azriel nodded again, more seriously now. "Did anyone help you?"

Y/N breathed in, as if considering how honest she should be. Then she sank back into the chair beside him, unwrapped the next bandage, and laid it ready before speaking softly.

"Only at the beginning. Rhys was there. Feyre. Mor helped me stabilize you. But... most of it... I did on my own."

Azriel blinked. His voice was hoarse. "On your own?"

Y/N nodded. As she spoke, she gently lifted his side to undo the next bandage. Beneath it, red lines, still not fully healed, appeared – deep, but clean. She let her magic flow, golden light sinking into the wound and remaining where destroyed nerves still lay under the skin.

"The external wounds were bad," she began quietly, her fingers steady as she continued healing. "A dagger hit you in the side. Almost to the kidney. Two broken ribs. Your shoulder was dislocated. And the cut on your thigh was nearly three hand widths deep. But... it was the shadow magic, Azriel. It had eaten into your nerves. It tore you apart from the inside. As if something... was slowly trying to devour you."

Azriel’s expression tightened. Not from pain – but because of the thought of what she had to endure to bring him back.

"I didn’t know if I would make it," Y/N admitted, her voice barely audible. "It was... too much. I took your pain because I thought I could bear it. But at some point..." She hesitated, lowering her gaze briefly. "At some point, I didn’t know where yours ended and mine began."

A tremor passed through her fingers as she sent the magic one last time, deep into his fabric. Azriel flinched slightly, not from pain – more because the warmth flowed through him. Like the first fire after a cold winter.

Y/N continued, her voice more detached now. Gentle. "The nerves in your side and leg are still damaged. It will take time. You’ll be able to stand again. But not immediately. Your body needs to relearn the connection."

Azriel said nothing. His eyes were simply on her. Still. Watching. Full of something that couldn’t be put into words. Then, slowly, he raised his hand and placed it over hers, which was still resting on his side. "I’m alive because you didn’t give up."

Y/N closed her eyes briefly. Her fingers curled around his. "You can never do something like that again, Azriel," she whispered. "Never again."

He nodded. And this time, he meant it.

Y/N carefully pulled the shirt back together, her fingers gently gliding over the edges as she slowly closed it. Azriel’s skin was pale, the wounds well-treated, but she knew the deeper healing would still take time. With a soft, almost tender look, she placed the thin blanket over him. Her movements were calm, almost mechanical, but inside, she felt chaotic. The room was silent – only the quiet sound of his steady breaths and her own calm in-and-out breathing broke the stillness.

When she sat beside him on the edge of the bed, the closeness to him felt even more intense. The warmth of his body, which she could still feel, even though he had almost died a few days ago. She stared into his eyes, trying not to let the weight of the moment overwhelm her. Azriel met her gaze, but there was something in his expression – something she had never seen before.

He didn’t know what to say.

The silence stretched like an invisible bond between them, a barrier of unspoken words and gestures. And then, like an echo in her mind, Y/N heard the last words he had said to her before he had collapsed in her arms.

"I’m sorry," he had said over and over. "I’m sorry that I didn’t…" Then he had choked, coughing up blood or simply too weak to finish the sentence. She remembered the feeling of holding him, as his will to live seemed to fade.

Now, in the silence of the room, she could no longer just remain quiet. "Azriel," she whispered, her voice soft but firm. "What did you want to say?"

Azriel looked at her, and for a moment, it seemed as though he was searching for the answer in her. As if he wanted to pull away from her, but at the same time, like in an inner battle between what he knew and what he could say.

It was so close. So damn close that he almost said it. The words he had kept back over and over. What he had never allowed himself to admit – that Y/N was his Mate.

He remembered the moment he realized it. When he knew it was her who completed him. The person he wanted to be with eventually, without knowing if it was ever the right time for it. But in this situation, in this moment, he couldn’t tell her.

He would have put her in too much danger. He should never have risked her finding out – not now, not in a world where he could be called into battle at any moment, and she could be lost to him every day.

He looked at her, and in that look, there was an entire world of unresolved feelings, of unsaid words, tangled in his heart. And then, after a short, agonizing pause, he finally whispered, "It wasn’t anything important."

Y/N stared at him, feeling the emptiness in his answer. She knew it wasn’t true. But she also knew that Azriel was refusing to share what he really felt.

Y/N took a deep breath and stared at him, as if reading in him everything he couldn’t say out loud. Her voice was calm, but determined, as she responded: "I know, Azriel."

Azriel blinked, his eyes widening as he looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean?"

You can’t know what you’re saying, he thought. You can’t know that you’re my Mate. Unless Cassian told you… that fool.

Y/N looked at him steadily, the softness in her gaze mixing with a determination that led Azriel to feel both deep fear and relief at once. Then, without hesitation, she spoke clearly and distinctly: "You’re my Mate."

Azriel stared at her, his heart stopping for a moment. The words echoed inside him as he tried to comprehend them. What had she said? Had she really said it?

Then he felt it – the slight, almost imperceptible pull inside him. The bond. But it was different. This time he could really feel her, not just a glimpse of her feelings he always felt during the last few months. No, he could really feel her. Her presence, her feelings, the delicate threads of the Mating Bond stretching out, as though he had found her again.

"Y/N... what did you just say?" His voice was rough, almost unbelieving, as he looked at her.

"The bond snapped for me, right before you closed your eyes. I could feel you for only a few seconds. And then I felt nothing. Because you were..." Y/N whispered the last words almost imperceptibly, her eyes filling with tears. But she remained calm, her voice clear and firm as she continued: "I’ve never felt anything so extreme. Normally, you’d be happy when the Mating Bond is revealed, when you know you have a Mate. But in that moment... in that moment, I cursed the Cauldron that the bond only became visible to me now – when you almost died."

Azriel lowered his head. He could hear the pain in her words, in her voice. And it tore him apart. He had known that the moment the bond would become visible to her would be difficult and painful, but he had never thought it would happen this way. Never would he have thought it would come during a moment when he was almost dead.

"I... I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice broken. "I’m sorry I never told you what you mean to me. But I couldn’t..."

"Why?" Y/N asked, her voice cutting through the silence of the room like a soft whisper. "Why didn’t you tell me, Azriel?"

He looked at her, and in his eyes was a mixture of guilt and something else – something she couldn’t fully grasp. "Because I didn’t know if I could ever bind you to me," he finally said, the words barely audible. "You deserve someone who doesn’t live on the edge between life and death. You deserve someone who doesn’t withhold anything from you, someone who will never scare you. And I... I always had this fear that you would eventually lose me. But now..."

"Now?" she asked, her voice cutting deeply into him.

He looked at her, hesitated for a moment before quietly continuing: "Now I don’t know how I can fight without you. And knowing that... it’s making me into a different person. It changes everything. And I... I don’t know what that means for us."

Azriel sat there, his gaze fixed on Y/N, yet in his eyes was an unspoken weight. The pain, the loss, the constant feeling of inadequacy. When he spoke, his voice was rough, as though each word was a struggle.

"I’ve always doubted myself," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I’ve always hoped I would eventually find a Mate, but at the same time, I’ve always been afraid of it. How can someone love me when I can’t even love myself?"

Y/N stared at him for a long time, her eyes seeming to look right through him. She knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, but she couldn’t just accept the weight of those words. And she wouldn’t let him remain trapped in that self-destructive thought loop. "That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard," she said firmly, without hesitation. "How can you even say something like that, Azriel?"

He looked at her in surprise, as if unsure if he had heard her right. "What do you mean?"

"You deserve love, Azriel. Endless love. And you never deserved to believe that you weren’t worthy of it." She straightened up for a moment, her eyes sparkling as she looked him in the eye. "You’re loyal. You’re strong, even when you think you’re weak. You fight for those you love, without ever asking for anything in return. You’ve carried so much pain, for all of us. You give everything to protect us – and that deserves to be returned."

Y/N let the words hang in the air as she leaned further toward him, carefully placing her hand on his arm. Her touch was warm and firm.

"You never gave up, even when you damn well deserved to. You’re someone who cares for those he loves, and he fights to the end, even if he breaks in the process." Her gaze softened, but her voice remained unwavering. "You deserve love, Azriel. And you never doubted yourself because you couldn’t love. You doubted because you were afraid of getting hurt. But you know what? Every one of us has that fear. And still, still we give each other the chance to be loved."

Azriel opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but found no words. Instead, he lowered his head and closed his eyes, as if trying to truly comprehend her words.

Y/N leaned forward, her gaze fixed on him, as she finally said to him, "And I hope that I can be the one to give you the love and show you that you are more than enough, Azriel. That you deserve it. That you are loved, not only by me, but by all the people who know you and appreciate you."

Azriel felt something shift inside him as her words flowed through him like a gentle stream. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something he had almost forgotten. It was love. True love. Not the love he could hardly admit to himself, but the love that shone in the eyes of another person who believed in him.

But Azriel still couldn’t find the right words. He wanted to say something, but everything seemed so heavy and tangled inside him. Y/N sensed he was overwhelmed with his own thoughts, and she realized it was almost impossible for him to put all of it into words. She sighed softly and continued speaking, as if trying to lift a little of the burden off him.

"I... I’ve always felt something for you," she said quietly, almost hesitantly, but determined. "But I was 100% sure that I fell in love with you when you took care of me, in the cabin. You held me in that moment when everything around me was falling apart, and I knew that there would be no turning back for me. From that point on, I knew you were the one, Azriel."

Azriel looked at her, his gaze softening as he heard her words. He suddenly felt lighter, as if a part of the pressure in his chest had released. But still, it wasn’t enough to give him the words he needed to say what was inside him.

"I..." he began, but then stopped. After a moment, he said it. "I’ve actually always known. I knew you’d make me lose my mind. I can’t even tell you exactly when I realized it. It’s just always been there."

He looked at her, a small smile playing at his lips. "But when the bond snapped for me... when you gave me the cream and rubbed my hands, that’s when everything changed. That’s when I knew. For forever."

Y/N stared at him, utterly surprised. "Wait, what? You knew that long ago? That was months ago!"

She shook her head and gave him a light smack on the arm, as if to show him that she couldn’t believe it. But the smack echoed into his shoulder, and Azriel groaned lightly as the pain from his injured shoulder shot through him.

"Damn it, Y/N," he muttered, but there was a quiet smile in his eyes. "You’re really impossible."

"Maybe you should reconsider that, Azriel," she said with a hint of mockery in her voice, but there was something else in her eyes – something that came from the depth of her heart.

Azriel laughed softly, but he felt the pain in his shoulder easing. Despite the injuries, despite the confusion and the fears, in that moment, he felt as if everything was falling into place. The loss of words, the self-doubt – all of it began to fade as he looked into her eyes and saw what he had long known.

"You should know that I..." he began, and this time, he found the words. "I’m glad that you’re the one giving me this love. That you’re helping me see that I deserve it."

Y/N grinned and leaned back a little. "You should have known that long ago, Azriel. But now that you know, I hope you’ll never doubt it again."

Azriel's eyes softened, and for a moment, a shadow of regret passed across his face. "I wanted to tell you during Solstice," he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. "I wanted to tell you that you were my mate then. I really wanted to." His gaze dropped for a moment as he remembered the night so vividly. "But after I gave you the gift, after I saw how happy you were when you walked through the greenhouse... I couldn’t. In that moment, you were so happy, so full of life, and I knew that telling you then wouldn’t have made you any happier. So, I kept it to myself, thinking it was the right thing to do. But... it was never about me. It was about you being happy."

Y/N blinked, taking in his words, then gave him an incredulous look. "Okay, I'm taking it back. That's the stupidest thing you could ever say."

Azriel chuckled softly, the sound light and warm despite the heaviness in his chest. Y/N’s playful retort was just what he needed to hear. She was so fiercely her own person, and he adored that about her. A smile on his lips, as he leaned a little more against the pillow, watching Y/N. For the first time, he truly felt present – in the moment, and no longer just as who he had always been: a warrior, a shadow, someone who never believed in himself.

Azriel stared at Y/N for a moment, and although he had understood her words, there was still an unspoken wish deep within him. Something he couldn’t let go of, something he wanted to hear again to make sure he truly believed it.

"Can you say it again?" he finally asked softly, almost like a whisper.

Y/N immediately knew what he meant, and she looked at him for a moment. In his eyes, there was a silent pleading, a longing for confirmation, for something he had never quite grasped deep within himself. She had always known, but now she understood why he wanted to hear it again.

A small, gentle smile played on her lips as she leaned closer to him. She rested her forearm on the bed and came so close to his face that her breath almost brushed against his cheekbone. Her eyes looked deeply into his, full of affection and truth.

"I love only you, Azriel," she whispered, her voice soft but firm.

In that moment, everything changed for Azriel. It was as if he forgot everything around him. The pain, the injuries, the struggle. None of it mattered anymore. There was only her, her words, and the feeling that, for the first time, he was truly whole.

His heart began to beat faster as he felt her closer to him, her breath against his skin. Without another thought, he pulled her closer and kissed her, a kiss that took in all the words and all the unspoken fears he had ever had. It was a kiss that healed everything that had been broken inside him, a kiss that bound him to her in a way he had never thought possible.

When their lips parted, he felt the slight tug in his side, but it was nothing compared to what he was experiencing. She was now so close to him, their bodies almost touching as he gently pulled her to his side. He no longer felt like the shadow who had always doubted, no longer the warrior who had always been alone. Now, he felt whole. Complete.

"You have no idea how much I love you," Azriel said softly, his voice full of sincerity, as he gently pressed her to him while she lay next to him in bed. Her body nestled against his injured side, but he didn’t care. In that moment, it was as if the world consisted of just him and her.

Y/N rested her head on his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart, beating in a familiar rhythm that she never wanted to miss again. It was a moment of peace, a moment in which she knew she was exactly where she belonged – by his side.

Azriel closed his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, he no longer feared the future. Everything he had ever wanted was right here – in this woman who loved him, and in the certainty that he would never let her go.

Cassian hummed as he climbed the stairs to the Town House, a bag of fresh food in hand that he had picked up on the way. He knew that Azriel and Y/N had eaten little in the last few days, and he wanted to make sure they both ate to regain their strength. Azriel had told him that Y/N was his mate, but he hadn’t known that Y/N also knew. And although he was sure she would support Azriel in everything, he didn’t want to risk giving her something she might have prepared for him.

With quick, quiet steps, he made his way to Y/N’s room. It still felt surreal how things had developed. Just days ago, everything had been so unclear, so full of pain and uncertainty. But today, there was something else. A feeling he couldn’t quite grasp, but it gave him faith in the good and in the future again.

When he reached the door, he paused for a moment to listen. Then he could hear it – the soft breathing of Azriel and Y/N. But when he opened the door, he stood frozen.

Y/N was lying in Azriel’s arms, his eyes closed, but Cassian could see the gentle smile on his lips, and it was clear: Azriel was in good hands. The fear that had accompanied him for the last few days began to fade. For a moment, Cassian simply stood there, the bag of food in his hand, watching the scene before him.

He knew that everything would be alright now. Azriel would make it. Y/N had saved him, not just with her healing hands, but with her heart.

Suddenly, the shadows of Azriel brushed along the door, and without warning, they slammed it shut with a loud bang. Cassian jumped back, shocked, but then couldn’t help but chuckle. It was always surprising how the shadows protected Azriel, how they connected with him so deeply that they defended him in a way that sometimes even Cassian found baffling.

"Okay, okay, I get it, no interruptions," he muttered with a smile, as he slowly approached the door and with a slight tug, took the food into his hands. "I brought food. I’ll leave it in the kitchen. You can rest in peace."

He couldn’t resist taking one last glance at the closed door. It was a scene full of silence and security, and Cassian knew that Azriel would soon be back to his old self – strong, determined, but also surrounded by a love he never could have dreamed of.

-

Taglist: @princesssunderworld @tele86 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @rose-girls-world @iluvyewman-blog @gluecksbaerchieee @lreadsstuff

[thewritetofreespeech]

Hello dear author, could I request one with the characters Delico's Nursery with a reader who likes to do cute hairstyles, like for example a reader does bow hairstyles on Raphael or Elena? I hope I'm not bothering you with the requests for this work, I think your work is amazing!

Another day, and it seemed they were no closer to finding Pendulum than the were the last. Just more dead ends and blocked off alley ways.

“Eyyyy…my feet hurt…” Henrique whined as he made his way up the steps of the townhome in the city where the kids were.

“Your delicate noble feet too soft to walk the hard streets?” Dino criticized.

“Hey! It was a lot of walking today!” The red head snapped back.

“We need to remain on foot to get the better vantage.” Dali reasoned as he opened the door. “Too much is missed traveling by carriage in the city.”

“Agreed. If these urchins plan to slither through the streets, then unfortunately it is our duty as members of VLAD to slide on our bellies as well.” Gerhard commented.

“Papa! Papa!”

The men’s expressions seemed to lighten as Elena & Lucia ran to the door to meet their father. Henrique happily cried back out for them and spun the girls around, one arm a piece. “I missed you girls!”

“We missed you too Papa.” The girls chimed. “Look at our hair!”

“Wooow~! So pretty!” Henrique marveled as he took in their braids & bows.

“[Y/N] did it for us.” Elena told him.

“They did mine too!” Lucia added.

“The girls wanted to play hair salon.” [Y/N] chimed in as they came to the foyer too, following the young ladies.

“Well, it looks amazing.” Henrique told them with a great big smile.

“…papa…”

Dali looked down at the soft sound of Raphael’s voice and smile before he knelt down to his son’s level. “Ah. I see [Y/N] got to you too, eh? You look very handsome.”

Raphael smiled, then bashfully tucked his chin in as he pulled at his shirt bottom. “I like it. I can see better when I play with Angelico.”

“Then we’ll have to keep this style up then, won’t we?” Dali agreed. “You’ll have to teach me how to go it, [Y/N].”

“It’s a pretty simple tie back style.”

“[Y/N] wouldn’t do mine!” Angelico insisted angrily as he came into the room.

“That’s not true. I just said I couldn’t do a braid on you because your hair isn’t as long as Elena or Raphael’s.”

“They wouldn’t do it!”

“Angelico,” the boy froze when he heard the sharp cut of his father’s voice, “lying is not a becoming feature of the Fra family. Nor is complaining so loud when you do not get your way!” Angelico sniffled under his father’s criticism, then started full on bawling. “W-Wait! You’re not supposed to cry! [Y/N]!”

“There, there…” They assured Angelico. Gently patting his back and letting his tears subside. “Want me to brush your hair instead?”

Angelico sniffed hard and then muttered, “mmhmm…” He then took their hand and went back to the playroom.

“Fashion can be very emotional. Right girls?” Elena & Lucia both nodded fervently at their father’s comment.

“Where is my son?” Dino asked with a sigh. “Surely [Y/N] hasn’t braided his hair too.”

[cindyverse]

HOW TO DETACH FROM YOUR CR?

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Hi, so to start, this is my way of doing this, and in my personal experience, being too attached to this reality is what mainly holds me back. I care too much about my experience in here, and I act like this is the dominant reality when it's not. I used to act like this was the "real" reality, and my perspective for other realities was like they're not real. But the truth is that there's no such thing as the "main" or "real" reality. Other realities are as real as this one. So, the first step in detaching should be comprehending and claiming this as the truth. I don't wanna keep this long so let's get into steps:

1-NPC Mode

۶ৎ Start thinking of this reality like it's a simulation. Think of other people like they're npcs, and everyone is sticking by their scripts. Be aware, and if you're not act like you are. When you're feeling a strong emotion, like sadness or fear, don't let it get over you, remind yourself that this reality isn't temporary and it doesn't hold any power over you. You can always choose your reality. And now don't get me wrong of course, it's normal that you get affected by the things happening here, but don't forget that at the end of the day, you control your emotions, don't let your emotions rule you.

2- Reality Check

۶ৎ During the day do reality checks at least every hour or so. Ask yourself questions like "Is this real or am I dreaming?", "This feels wrong. I already shifted". Convince yourself that you already shifted and the reality is just catching up. Change how you react to things. When something happens just stop and think "This doesn't matter i already left this reality." Don't forget this isn't about convincing yourself it's about convincing your brain and subconscious.

3- Memory Glitch

۶ৎ When you wake up don't move immediately. Close your eyes and just exist for a second. When you first wake up for a few seconds you're still in that in-between state so use this to your advantage. Take a few deep breaths and repeat affirmations. Claim that you're pure consciousness and nothing holds you back. You decide what reality you're in.

4- Mirror Dissociation

۶ৎ When you're in your room alone look at yourself in the mirror. Keep staring at your reflection until it starts slightly "off" and believe me it will. Tell yourself "This is not my actual body. This is just a borrowed vessel that I need to take care of while I'm in this reality" Don't forget you're pure void. Your body is not you what makes you, you is your consciousness. Imagine your reflection is glitching with your DR self. See them and if you dont make yourself believe you're seeing them.

5- Candle Method

۶ৎ Take a candle. Every candle color has a different meaning. I usually use white since it symbolizes things like peace, inner calm and spirituality. First write your DR self a letter and put it under the candle then light your candle and feel it's energy, put your hands above it and feel you're connectiong to your DR self. Repeat affirmations and imagine your candle as it's a portal connecting you and your dr self.

Flames has meaning; strong movements usually means strong energy present, still flame means your energy is aligned, sudden flickering usually stands for doubts or energy shifting.

You can also ask yes/no questions to your candle and use it as a pendulum.

Before you blow your candle repeat and affirmation and pour the wax in cold water, let it cool and look at the shape. They all have meanings. If you don't understand what a shape or symbol means you can use Google or an AI tool to analyze it.

So it was all for today. These are things that I do and I believe it actually helps me. Also I guess I went a bit off-topic in some places so sorry for that. Take care, happy shifting:))

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‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿‿︵‿︵‿୨ ୧‿︵‿︵‿

[bootheghoul]

In your Pokémon au, do the boys have to deal with instincts or anything like that? Like does the Pokémon they (represent?) have any effects on their habits or behaviors?

Yes! So, for this AU, everyone in the universe has certain habits and behaviors pertaining to the Pokémon they are. Ex: Bird Pokemon molt and preen and have the urge to migrate at a certain time of the year Ex: Scolipedes and Centiskorches have an innate rivalry with each other It’s not like their instincts completely take over their minds, but subtle things in how they act. The boys’ personalities are exactly the same just with some additional quirks. I'm basing how they act from dex entries/ in-game animations/ and other media! This is long so strap in!

Ingo

In Ingo’s case, Chandelure tends to spin A LOT. It’s a habit they all share whether to battle or emote. It’s just what they do.

Chandelure don’t get dizzy so they can do so without repercussion.

This behavior started when he evolved into a Lampent.

Ingo either spins on his toes when he’s happy or when he attacks. But his twirls are sharper and not as smooth and elegant as other Chandelure

Think of a pirouette but very stilted.

He spins on his heel pretty fast, too, and smacks Emmet every now and then.

He tends to point his toes like a ballerina while he floats.

He often sways on his feet or in the air like a pendulum if he’s idle or deep in thought.

This is kind of a bad thing because he might accidentally hypnotize a passerby by the combination of the motion and his flames.

Luckily, riding the train hides his swaying as it’s already a bumpy ride.

Although sometimes he has to snap the person out of his trance. He will profusely apologize afterward.

His flames aren't hot unless he wants them to but they feel warm

Another thing that creeps Emmet out a bit is that Ingo can see and talk to spirits. Not ghost Pokémon. Actual spirits.

Certain Pokémon have this ability and fewer are able to help these spirits. Ingo is one of them

Chandelure, in particular, act as a lure. haha

Emmet can kind of feel if a presence is there but he needs Ingo’s clarification. (it's that twin connection they share)

Unlike popular belief, Chandelure do not destroy a spirit with their flames. It may look like it but it's to help a lost soul move on.

While he is a conductor for trains, he doubles as a guide for lost spirits because he believes it's his duty. (Idea from this wonderful fic!)

Some aren't ready and he’ll respect their decision and leave them alone

What does bother him is that he can sense when someone is about to die and hates hospitals for this exact reason

It's awful because he feels it multiple times a day from passengers

He doesn't want to burden Emmet so he stays quiet

Emmet knows when Ingo's overwhelmed and will try to distract him the best he can

He's terrified to one day sense Emmet's death

Emmet

Emmet, as an Eelektross, has a bad chewing problem! I kind of showed it in this post already but he gnaws at any pen or pencil any chance he can get. If not he’ll chew on his nails.

He lets out small bursts of electricity from his teeth as he chews in thought

He has pockets full of hard candy to curb the issue though

Low on sugar? He can help!

It's also used to bribe the Joltik Quadruplets. (I'll show them later!)

He does bite Ingo if they get into an argument. It's always Ingo's tails too. But they rarely seriously fight anyway

Emmet has bit through their cutlery before...multiple times... but it's on him to replace it. (Ingo has his own set of utensils now)

He'll either thump or swish his tail when he's agitated.

He has the tendency to wrap around anything if he stays in the same place for a while. (A pole/his office chair/ furniture)

He mostly coils around people verrry tightly when he gives a hug, which is a habit he started as an Eelektrik.

You have to tell him to let go because he unconsciously constricts the air out of you.

He's stronger than he looks so please tell him because he doesn’t realize and never wants to hurt anyone.

Ingo is mostly the recipient of this but Elesa is a close second. The depot agents are third.

With any body of water, he starts to think how the water feels and has the urge to jump in. It doesn't matter if it's freshwater or seawater. He wants to dive in.

In the water, Emmet is a completely different guy. It's like a switch flips in his head. It’s freeing for him to be underwater as he can move how he wants to!

Beach trips to Undella Town or Humilau City are a frequent thing, and he will be cranky if he misses a day!

His favorite place is the Marine Tube because Ingo can be there too!

Ingo will walk through the tunnel as he watches Emmet have fun

Since Eelektross in canon are ambush hunters, Emmet subconsciously acts like one

Is the type to silently enter a room and sneak up on you

He likes to wait deep below the surface watching above him

It's like his version of cloud-watching

If there’s a shadow at the top, he has to find out what it is!

He has a habit of swimming at an alarming rate and abruptly popping out of the water to greet whoever is there. He doesn't mean to! He's just curious.

He only gives them a really bad scare and a heart attack

Ingo will join him on a floaty and act as a beacon because Emmet sometimes swims out too far.

Other marine pokemon point him in the right direction if he does get lost.

Other miscellaneous things:

It’s a common form of greeting between Electric types to shock each other. It’s their version of a handshake/hello.

Ingo’s built up a resistance to electricity thanks to Emmet, but sometimes it’s really shocking!

Emmet sometimes bumps into things because of his body.

They both can see in the dark, but Emmet can see perfectly underwater.

They both have fallen asleep levitating before.

Ingo doesn't have a house key because he can just go through the front door or wall or anything really.

Because of this, he has a habit of not opening doors

Ingo is actually wary of water because he's afraid his fire will go out but he toughs it out for Emmet because he loves him so much.

He can swim but it's still the fear of going too deep.

There is battling in this AU! Ingo and Emmet still run the Battle Subway with their team, The Top Depot Agents! (I'll show them sometime!)

Also, if you have any ideas of your own, you can make your own post and tag me! What I say isn’t set in stone cause this is an idea for everyone to enjoy. I’d love to hear any new ideas!

[yudrein-aile]

currently at the arc where the cavalry return from the west, and it's so fucking funny. truly the 'yuder why are you like this' arc. he's such a fucking menace. he swings from mercilessly bullying kiolle to going heart eyes over kishiar and back like a pendulum. his friends are trying to have deep conversations and he's like 'i have a terrible personality' and 'if anyone's mean to you i'll kill them. you can cuss me out btw'. this bitch is insane and i'm loving it

Yuder is a god damn treasure for real and also 508 is so funny to me

"Gakane, I didn't help you out of some grand intention, contrary to what you think." "I know. To you, there's no great difference between helping Kanna and the others, and helping me." "No, what I want to say is that my being strong and my personality are two different issues." Yuder replied firmly, locking eyes with him. "I'm someone who doesn't care what others say as long as it doesn't interfere with what I have to do. It's not because I'm strong; I've been like this even before my Awakening. I've suffered losses due to this trait, but it hasn't changed and probably never will." He had even faced execution due to this personality. A fact Gakane was likely unaware of. "…" "This isn't strength. It's just having an incredibly stubborn and unpleasant personality. If you were like me, I think it would be difficult for us to get along." Gakane Bolunwald, being stubborn and having an unpleasant personality, was an unimaginable combination. "You say you're embarrassed for not being of any help and about your past. But if we're measuring shame, shouldn't I be the more ashamed one? I nearly ruined the party's atmosphere, and one person even fainted and had to be carried away." "That's not…” "Yet, I'm not particularly ashamed. I did what I wanted to do, and if I could go back, I would do it again." Upon hearing Yuder's unsettlingly calm words, Gakane blinked a few times.

Honstly I genuienly love this about Yuder as a character too. He learns to get along better with people, as far as regression stories go, Yuder's is definitely one about emotional growth rather than strength, but it does not ignore his base personality - which is a very goal orientated "don't care how I get there" kinda deal. He's petty and mean and doesn't care what others think about him - but he very much acknowledges that as character flaws, but not as something to overcome to reach some state of kind perfection.

also a big fan of how often he goes "do you want me to kill that guy for you because I will totally kill that guy for you"

[limeade-l3sbian]

Im sure you have noticed many radfems talk of how men will use their spouse/partner as basically a second mother, having her do all the chores, the emotional labour, the organisation, etc. And I agree with this take.

But can we talk about how a lot of women, especially trad adjacent ones, also see their male partner as almost a parental figure. The amount of times i’ve seen women use different versions of “I just want a man that can think for me” is too many to count at this point. And it’s common. It’s seen in so much romance media, where the man takes control of everything, all the big decisions. It’s become a whole trope in heterosexual romance books and stories, of a rich man with control issues who sweeps some woman off her feet and makes it so she basically just disappears in his embrace.

This is gonna sound super harsh, but please know it isn’t meant as a critique of them as much as something i’ve noticed. I really do believe a lot of women who crave old school gender roles are very lazy, “useless”(to themselves) people who don’t want to amount to anything in life. The idea of struggle and hardship, heck, even just working TOWARDS something, it scares them so much they would rather be shapeless blobs controlled by someone else. That’s why they fetishize that traditional life style for women. Obviously WE know the women of that time and current time too in those types of homes aren’t just sitting around all day doing nothing, but I really do think a lot of women use it as an escapism fantasy from life.

The way a lot of them describe their sexual fantasies is similar, it’s always what is done to them, like they aren’t actually active participants, like they don’t actually have to make any choices.

I think the reason a lot of men crave a parental figure partner vs the reason a lot of women crave one is very different but they seem to be extremely common nonetheless. And with women I also know it’s a very complex issue of both society telling us our worth, the fact that women nowadays even as the more educated demographic STILL do more housework and emotional labour in relationships, capitalism being horrifyingly exhausting to live under, I could go on. But the point is, I think certain women crave a life of no consequences so that whole “i’m just a girl” and “he thinks for me, he makes the choices” mentality thats unfortunately had a huge uptick in popularity in recent years, I do think it’s women craving a parental figure as a partner. Not to say it’s anything linked to incest, i’m not trying to make freudian connections here, but I think the role of a parent is to take responsibility for the child and they crave that floating consequence free existence of a child.

I dunno, is what I’m saying completely deranged? Let me know.

Anon, I'm gonna try to be respectful and hold your hand when I say this... YOU'RE RIGHT! Thought I was gonna get condescending on your ass, huh? 😎🤪

Firstly, don't undercut your words with "I dunno." You made a completely logical point and casually explained yourself so eloquently I wouldn't be surprised if English wasn't your first language.

Secondly! I have seen this too! This weird, "take care of me" emphasis from both sides of the camp. Is it laziness? I wouldn't cast that aside for a second. But I think it's also this strange reaction to the present world. At least in the U.S., the economy is shit and people kind of already know that shit is just going to be hard, no matter what. And as humans, we have a weird tendency to swing the pendulum completely to the left or the right. So our reaction to very real, economic hardship that requires frequent "grinding" is to desire a complete release of the wheel, and to have someone else handle the hard stuff.

For some reason, according to social media, you either need to be grindset girl boss or a trad trophy wife which is...yeah. But I don't doubt your point being more of a reason for this. It's bizarre, and you're not crazy.

[the-gayngel]

i decided to do a tarot and pendulum reading about the potential spn reboot (with the supernatural tarot deck!) so if that's your kind of thing, check below the cut!

since i did the tarot reading first , i'll be discussing that first. i'll briefly explain how i drew my conclusions for each question, but if you have any other questions just let me know. also warning this will be a long post but please stick around especially for me adding the pendulum's results, exciting stuff came through with that!

tarot reading

question 1: side characters that may be on screen. because of the nature of this question i'm not really interpreting meanings of the cards (one exception), it's mostly just going with the characters on them

benny, adam/michael, meg, jess, and baby (this one made me giggle because of the car getting raptured jokes)

i asked for clarification on jess (it was kinda a curveball to me) and i got 7 of swords/blades in reverse which actually has ruby on it. the meaning of the card is basically stop lying to yourself. lowkey i think the show is gonna try to make sam and jess get back together in heaven, OR sam will have to face past relationships and make some sort of decision about who he's "meant" to be with. if they erase eileen (again) i will be upset LMAO

question 2: timeframe for an official announcement. using the actual card meanings for this (also the picture of these cards is with next question's)

the hermit in reverse and page of swords/blades. honestly i think it is in the veryyyy beginning stages of being planned so unfortunately there's not really an actual time estimate. but be on the lookout for little hints from actors, producers, etc

question 3: timeframe for it actually being on our screens. once again using actual card meaning

the wheel of fortune in reverse. momentum is stalled, stagnant; fearing change. so once again there is not really a current estimate of when this will happen but it will probably be longer than a lot of us want/expect it to be. for the fearing change part i think that's referring to the production process, possibly struggling to find the network and work out legal aspects, also maybe slightly scared to bring back the show because they're not sure how viewers will respond, but they will still go through with it

question 4: plot-wise, will it pick up where it left off and stay in heaven? will it rewrite pre established canon ending? using characters + card meanings

5 of cups/goblets (gadreel), 8 of pentacles/pentagrams (jo), 9 of swords/blades (alastair), 10 of wands/bones (cas), 8 of swords/blades (constance welch)

i think it will take place in heaven where we left off (sam and dean stay dead), but heaven/hell/earth will all end up being involved. what im leaning towards is some sort of infiltration of heaven; demon drama with all hands on deck (lots of fan favorites would likely come back for this). the 8 of swords meaning is feeling stuck/imprisoned so maybe the chuck won theory is actually true?? ultimately another Big Bad or cosmic event involving fixing/protecting the afterlife

question 5: will they make destiel fully canon with onscreen reciprocation? characters + card meanings

death (death, lol), page of pentacles/pentagrams (ghostfacers), the hierophant (billie), and queen of cups/goblets (ellen)

call me crazy but i think this is saying yes. ik this is silly but because ghostfacers came up it reminds me of the "gay love can pierce through the veil of death and save the day" quote especially with being between death and billie. also i think production sees destiel as a valuable business/economic opportunity now. despair/the deal will obviously be brought up. billie might be angry that cas killed her and some plot develops with that? ellen being here is a bit of a curveball but maybe she tells dean in heaven to get his shit together LMFAO but also the guidebook says "this tarot card is a reminder to be nurturing and compassionate with those you love" + cups being emotions and pentacles being stability, everything previously unsaid will finally be getting attention. think it'll definitely be A Journey to get to it; a lot of forces within context of the show and in real life still going against it though

look in reblogs for the pendulum results!

[thestarsarecool]

Hearing "Mistress and Maid" next to "Eleanor Rigby," "For No One" and "Yesterday," I realized that McCartney's public image as an eternal optimist is not supported by his work. It was something I'd been circling around since I heard Steve Earle's new version of "I'm Lookin Through You," as bitter a put-down song as ever got softened in the studio. McCartney has certainly written lots of positive songs, but from "Hey Jude" and "Let It Be" to "That Day is Done" and "Put It There," his optimism is always in the face of a shadow. There is always some awful thing that has to be overcome. If there's a defining subtext in McCartney's music it's probably "Take these broken wings and learn to fly."

"Yeah, well," McCartney said quietly, "that's me I suppose. I think that the danger is if you just get into the happy songs then it can be a little bit music hall. It can get a little bit light. So I like to always have a little bit of edge, or else a little bit of tongue-in-cheek. You know, 'When I'm 64' isn't really a song about growing old, although on the surface it is. It's a joke song, but it has serious concerns in it, a little melancholy.

'Yesterday'--she went away and all that shit. 'Suddenly I'm not half the man I used to be.' But if you think about it, I was writing those in my early 20s! Talking about not half the man I used to be when I was barely a man!" I said, if you'd been half that man you'd have been eleven.

"They have more poignancy now," McCartney said, "just because of the water that's been under all our bridges. So we all now relate to those lyrics a little bit more seriously. Perhaps." He changed gears and said, "But you know, my composing has always been made up, it's a fantasy. I remember George Harrison saying to me when I did 'Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da,' 'How'd you do that? You don't know anyone named Desmond or Molly, you don't know any of these people.'

I said, 'I just like making up a story.' A short story writer doesn't necessarily know the pit and the pendulum, he hasn't necessarily been to Dracula's castle. But he makes it up as an escape in a way. I think a lot of my songwriting always was, and still is, an escape."

From?

"From the harsh realities of the world. If I'm in a bad mood, I always find that a good time to write a song. Go off on your own and put the feelings in a song rather than in someone's face. The fact that it's a musical vehicle seems to defuse it a bit. Rather than just shouting at someone or wagging a finger, you can get those emotions out.”

Paul McCartney in Musician Magazine, August 1st 1995.

[light-of-delphi]

1. how do you veil

2. how does it honour your deities? how do you know they want you to

3. what does it mean to veil

have a lovely day

Hello!! This question actually reminded me that I should get back into veiling, ha! I'm more than happy to answer your questions, though!

How do you veil?

Veiling is far simpler than most people make it out to be. All you need to do in order to veil is cover your head. That's it! Covering one's head was typically seen as a way to protect the crown chakra. But before that, it was also seen as a way to remain healthy and keep your spirit and your energy safe. I veil because I find it comforting. I used to be a very emotional person. I was very in tune with other people's emotions, what people were feeling, and energy. Veiling helped me feel more safe and secure, so I typically veiled when I had a busy or very social day ahead of me.

To veil, you can do a few things:

Wearing a beanie counts as veiling, if you do it with the intention of honoring your Gods and being humble. It is a subtle way to veil without outing yourself or being too out of the broom closet!

Wearing a bandana! Bandanas are in style, especially during the spring and summer. Wearing a bandana tied around the head, usually covering the entire top of your head with a bit hanging off the back is how people tend to wear their bandanas. If you search "Bandana hairstyles" on Google, you may find some examples!

Wearing a scarf. If you want more coverage, you can loosely wrap it over your head and around your shoulders and neck. This creates a high coverage veil, which can help with overstimulation and feel a lot more secure than other styles. ChaoticWitchAunt has an amazing video on veils and veiling styles, and they cover it on their Instagram of the same name sometimes!

Himation veiling. This is the full body veil that you typically see when you look at sculptures from ancient Greece, or recreations/copies you may find from ancient Rome. They are full body coverings that cover the head and wrap around the body and drape down to the ankles. In modern times, you still see veils like this that are more secure or full coverage and may even cover the face. In some cultures, this is typically expected of women to wear. I do want to stress that, if you are in a safe enough space to have this choice, veiling should always be a personal choice.

Just have fun with it, experiment, and find something comfortable for you!

How does it honor your deities?

Veiling was a common practice in ancient Greece to show humility and modesty for the Gods. It was frequently done to honor specific deities, like a Virgin Goddess (Hestia, Athena, Artemis, etc), or to show respect when praying and going about the day. Nowadays, I personally veil for similar reasons. I show grace to Apollo by veiling in honor of his mother Leto and his twin sister, Artemis. Sometimes I veil to honor Hestia, especially when I am cleaning or having a rough day.

Veiling is always going to be specific to your practice, however. I have a friend who veils simply because they like how it feels and it's easier for them to focus when doing divination.

A deity may approach you and ask you to veil. This could look like a sudden urge or want to veil or experiment with veiling paired with signs from this deity, or finding cloths in colors they are associated with. It could be asked via tarot cards, pendulums, intuition, or meditation. It is very dependent on your relationship with your deities.

What does it mean to Veil?

This ties back to something I mentioned earlier - the bit about veiling for modesty and humility. People across different cultures and religions veil for different reasons. People in Abrahamic faiths that worship God and the bible may veil to honor and reflect the Virgin Mary, whose very well known for her blue himation-style veil. In Islamic faith, its expected of people to veil depending on the circumstance. In paganism, it is entirely dependent on the culture you elect to follow (so long as its open!) and the rules surrounding vieling.

In Hellenic Paganism, I've found that it is very customary to veil when praying. During prayer, it is seen as a sign of respect to veil and approach as modestly as possible (unless the prayer consists of something sexual or intentionally un-modest), to wash your hands, and to approach clean. I veil when doing tarot readings or pendulum sessions because it protects my energy and makes me feel safer. I get less tired afterward. I also veil in social situations, and on the holidays that I celebrate. It is very dependent on you and your practice.

I hope this helps! Feel free to add on in the comments, and give me little corrections if you think/feel they're needed. We're a community that teaches each other!! Khaire!

~Robyn <3

[bookish-bogwitch]

Hello! Thank you for the tags, @blackberrysummerblog @mooncello @monbons @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @thehoneyedhufflepuff @nausikaaaand and @alexalexinii. You are wonderful!

Today I'm sharing an anxious plea for reassurance + a snippet of chapter 9 of Basil Pitch's Diary, posting June 7. Below the cut for spoilers and anxiety.

<ANXIETY> I'm working on chapter 10 now and friends, it's slow going. I still love this fic with all my heart, but chapters 1-9 I had mapped out more or less scene by scene months before I started posting, and before writing most of them. Writing them was like novelizing a movie I'd watched in my head a countless times.

For the rest of the fic, though--Ch 10-13--I had only broad strokes figured out. I knew the very ending, and a handful of key emotional beats along the way, but the connective tissue was basically "Collect Underpants ... ? ... Profit."

I've now plotted the rest out in reasonable detail, with help from the extremely kind and insightful @facewithoutheart and @thewholelemon. But I am a plotter to the core and it feels much scarier to be writing a story I just made / am still making up than one that's been living in my head for years.

Also, you guys: Chapter 9 is really fucking good. I'm really proud of it and excited to share it. And also scared that the rest of the fic won't live up to the promise of all I've set up. This fic is my baby and I just really want to nail it.

Intellectually I know I'm just swinging on the creative-confidence pendulum, and that future me will be able to write as well as past me. These doubts are just intrusive thoughts, skittering around my head like the mice that live in my walls. Harmless, but such a nuisance. </ANXIETY>

Anyway! Here are some sentences of Chapter 9, which, did I mention, is really good. Baz is finally going dancing with DeNiall.

“So, cousin. What’s your strategy?” I just raised an eyebrow and gestured at myself. My shirt was a perfectly cut navy so sheer that it read as cobalt over my pale skin. Climbing my chest were embroidered red and pink roses, between which you could clearly see my nipples. I’d changed out of Oxford cloth at Fiona’s. (I didn’t tell her I’d stopped in Blackfriars to drop off my grandmother’s furs and my grandfather’s Dickens.) Through my sleeve you could also see my mother’s wand holster, which my father now insists I wear whenever I leave the house. He’s also looking for a second dog. Something more territorial than Rusty, whose lick is worse than his bite. After the numpties he spent a week teaching me defensive spells. His skill surprised me, though it shouldn’t have. Once, when I was small, someone tried to mug him as we were leaving a theatre. My father didn’t panic or capitulate, just calmly kneecapped the man with a vicious Why me, why now. 

Tagging @angelsfalling16 @brilla-brilla-estrellita @palimpsessed @cutestkilla 

@comesitintheclover @confused-bi-queer @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @drowninginships @dragoneggos

@emeryhall @ebbpettier @aristocratic-otter @hushed-chorus @youarenevertooold 

@ic3-que3n @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95

@katatsumuli @valeffelees @martsonmars @whogaveyoupermission @whatevertheweather 

@messofthejess @nightimedreamersworld @alleycat0306 @raenestee @wetheformidables 

@onepintobean @run-for-chamo-miles @skeedelvee @alleycat0306 @iamamythologicalcreature

@twokisses @shrekgogurt

[after-the-ellipsis]

You write about some pretty intense emotions, especially in HWPOV. What is it like? (I’m sorely tempted to phrase this as, “When you see your characters, which Will are you?” but that would narrow the question.)

Writing emotions is so fucking difficult. I usually know what a character is doing before I know why they're doing it. I write scenes from the outside-in: first dialogue, then action, and only once those two components are set do I go under the hood and start tinkering with the emotional gears and levers. This is a stupid way to work and I don't recommend it, but what can I say, writing emotions scares me so I have to stave off the moment of recognition however I can. I'm a conflict-averse person by nature. If I can get out of dealing with my own emotions believe me I will! But I recognize that one of the most fulfilling pleasures of writing is that it permits you to explore emotions in a safe(ish) environment. I identify a little with Hannibal in this regard, who loves to examine other people's feelings but has no idea what to do with his own.

But I also very deeply identify with Will. Because writing, at its best, is an act of pure empathy. I have to move outside of my own head if I'm ever to understand my protagonists. Even when I don't want to understand them, I have to force myself to try. If there's some aspect of their behavior that isn't squaring away, I have to understand what that contradiction is, what it is they're lying to themselves about. I have to understand the other people in their lives, too. Rich character writing can only happen when you're seeing a scene through everybody's eyes (even Dr. Chilton's!). So I put myself in everybody's perspective. I see where they're coming from and where they might be going, and then the feelings come. Sometimes it's a spontaneous welling-up. But more often I have to dig for it. Once I find it, it flows pretty easily, to the point where it can feel like drowning.

It's funny looking back at HWPOV, because as much as it's a story of Will using his empathy to understand Hannibal, it's also the story of ME using MY empathy to understand Hannibal. I really didn't understand him all that well when I began the fic. Will's earliest pendulum swings are my mediocre attempts at writing Hannibal's POV, and it's all very mustache-twirly. I laugh at them now. (If Hannibal could read them he would laugh at them too.) But as the story continued, and Will's knowledge deepened, mine deepened too. When Hannibal admitted he sometimes doesn't understand himself, I exploded my own brain. Here was the contradiction at the heart of the character that I'd finally gotten my fingers around. At the end of HWPOV, Will assumed Hannibal's POV so completely that he surprised even Hannibal. And in that moment, I, as a writer, became ready to write an entire fanfic from Hannibal's perspective.

The answer to your narrow question is that I can never be anything but BOTH Wills. By necessity I am more of a memory palace girlie at the moment, but this writing project is mirrors within mirrors. In first writing Will, I eventually understood Hannibal. Now, in writing Hannibal, I am learning all sorts of new things about Will.

[shslbunnylover]

Can you please write a hurt/confort fic with reader x chessy It's just I'm currently stressing out about my last exams and just got yelled at my proffesor

★ ★ ★ Enough for her ★ ★ ★

Character: Chessy

Summary: Your professor decided to be a dick one day when you were already stressed about your finals, and you find comfort in your girlfriend.

Taglist; @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of partying and drinking, yelling, the professor is a dick :(

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: Hey there, I'm so sorry you had to go through that, people suck. Keep going sweetheart ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🩷

Word Count: 2.21k

His words rang through your head like a pendulum, constantly returning back to your thoughts no matter how much you tried to push them away, and the harder you would try to push them back, the harder it came back to you.

*“Do you seriously think this works? Have you just been slacking off in my class??” Your professor exclaimed at you, his eyes widened beyond proportion and his teeth gritted.

“No sir, I just don't understand!” You attempted to reason with him, your chest tightening with every word you attempted to utter.

You felt your body shaking, tears welling in your eyes as the older man in front of you continued to scream and basically insult your entire existence.

“Well obviously! When you're slacking off and going out, you don't understand the material!” The old man scoffed.

“I don't go out, I spend most of my time studying! Especially with the upcoming finals!” You insisted, your hands shaking as they moved around, your mind unsure what to do with them at the moment.

“You seriously think I'm believing that?” He put his head in his hands before leaning back in his chair, putting some God knows how cancer causing chewing tobacco in his mouth.

“I don't expect you to, but it's the truth! I don't want to fail this!” You let a few tears out, your eyes beginning to hurt from not blinking in fear of showing this man just how much he affected you.

“Well you should've thought about that before!” He yells at you, slamming his hands on the desk.

You completely freeze, tears pouring downtime from your eyes and falling onto your cheeks and neck.

Your professor glares at you with fury, and you stand there in shock, you didn't know what you did. You were just trying to boost your grade, you hadn't been doing any of what he said you'd been doing.

What feels like minutes of silence pass, and you eventually grab your bag, running out of the room quicker than the thoughts running through your head.

You ran to your car, thanking God that the class you had been yelled at in was the final one of the day.

You cried to yourself, your hands clutching at the steering wheel as sobs left your lips. You cried out for something to help ease your pain as your hands shakily moved to start the car.

The drive was quick back to your home, and you couldn't be more grateful for it.

At least *something* could go right.*

You ran into the mansion where you and your girlfriend lived (and where you both worked), tears streaming down your face as you looked for any sense of your girlfriend being around any house.

“Chessy?” You called out, your chest tightening with every step you took, a large amount of tears flooding from your eyes as you did so.

The silence that came in reply took your cries only heightened your sense of anxiety. Your legs were shaking beyond comprehension, and your eyes were growing sore from crying so hard.

“CHESSY!” You screamed, able to cry your guts out due to Nick and his family being on some sort of day trip for the girls’ birthday.

Almost immediately you heard the footsteps of your beloved girlfriend running down the stairs, and you let out another cry but this time of relief.

“Y/N??” Chessy ran over to you, holding you up as you collapsed into her arms, letting all of your emotions out as you buried your face in the crook of her neck. “Y/N? What happened baby? Shhh…shhh…it's okay, I'm here…”

She tried her hardest to shush you, but your sobs wouldn't stop no matter how gentle she was being or what breathing methods she tried to use.

“He was so mean! I'm such a failure! I hate this class! I just wanted him to like me!!” You bawled, holding onto the older woman like an infant to her mama.

Chessy continued to try and shush you, gently guiding you up to your room and placing you on her lap as she sat on your bed, leaning against the headboard and bouncing you gently in her lap.

“Oh my sweet little thing…” Chessy cooed, kissing your forehead. “I need you to calm down for me, okay sweetheart?”

You cried out something unintelligible and nodded into the crook of her neck.

Chessy let out a soft hum of sadness at your inability to speak through the tears.

“Come on sweetheart, I need you to breathe with me…” She hushed you, exaggerating her breathing and pulling you out of her neck so you could see her movements.

You whined at the loss of your hiding spot, and you looked at her through blurry vision.

“Good girl…” Chessy smiled.

She then took an exaggerated deep breath.

“Follow me, baby,” She instructed, smiling as you followed along.

The praise you were receiving from the woman you adored had you blushing and wanting to follow her.

You nodded, taking a big deep breath and holding it before exhaling in sync with your girlfriend.

“L-Like that…?” You sniffled, your fists coming up to wipe the tears off your swollen and red eyes.

“Yes, just like that, good girl,” Chessy smiled at you, kissing you right on the top of your nose. “Just keep following me, love, can you do that?”

“Mhm…” You nodded, sniffling at her as your breathing and your cries began to pacify.

You followed Chessy's breathing for around another two minutes, and once you had fully calmed down, your girlfriend picked you up and adjusted you two so you were both cuddling in your bed.

“Good job sweetheart, I'm so proud of you, good girl for calming down and following me,” She wiped your cheeks clear of any reminisce of your tears with the pads of her thumbs.

You smiled weakly at the gentleness your older girlfriend showed you, sighing in relief as the words Chessy was saying slowly but surely drowned out the words your dick of a professor had said.

“Thank you, Chess…” You mumbled, your eyes hooding from the exhaustion caused by the strain you had put on your face by crying so profusely.

“It's no problem, my dear,” She kissed you gently on the lips.

A moment of awkward but somehow comforting silence passes of her just holding you like a baby, doing everything she *knew* would make you feel better.

“Do you want to tell me what happened, Y/N/N?” Chessy asked, smiling at you with a gaze that made you melt just at the mere glance of it.

You sighed, nodding as you knew that somehow you had to get this event out of your system.

“Mhm…”

“Okay, I'm listening,” She rubbed her hand up and down your waist, placing soft kisses on your forehead, remaining silent to allow a space for you to vent peacefully.

“I just…” You shrugged, wiping your eyes as a few more tears escaped them.

“Go on…” She hummed, waiting for you to continue as she kissed the top of your head.

“My professor screamed at me…” You choked out. “I did what you told me to and I went to his office hours to help me during the final, and he started yelling at me and accusing me of being a slut that doesn't try in college!”

Chessy's eyes widened and her teeth gritted, making sure to keep her grip on you gentle despite how angry she was at what you had told her.

“He said…what?” She gritted her teeth, obviously pissed off at what your professor had done to you.

You nodded.

“I don't…I don't know why…he was so…he was so mean Chess!” You gripped at her shirt, sniffling and yawning a bit, the crying you had done having taken quite a lot of energy out of you.

“I know sweetheart, what he said wasn't true, he's a liar and you and I both know that,” Chessy kissed your cheek once again, her other hand holding onto your thigh and wrapping your leg around her own body.

“But…what if he is right?” You sniffled, your eyes threatening to well up once again with tears.

“He's not,” Your girlfriend replied sternly, her grip on your thigh tightening just a little.

“Then why doesn't he like me?” You asked as the tears glossed over your eyes.

“I don't know sweetheart, it's not your fault, you're amazing. There's nothing you can do,” Chessy sighed, her hand stroking your cheeks as if you were the most fragile thing to ever exist.

“But I tried-”

"I know," She frowned, looking at you with a frown. “Some people are just born to be hateful, and there isn't anything you can do about it. It's not your fault.”

You sighed, knowing that she was somewhat correct, but your stubborn brain still wasn't fully convinced yet.

“I don't know what I did, I sit near the front but not too close, I finish my work on time, I have an A in the class, I just wanted to understand this one question! That's all I wanted to do! I didn't need anything else! I just needed help with that one question! I just wanted to do well on the final!” You began to hyperventilate, the tears pouring out of your eyes once again.

“I know, shhhh…take a big deep breath for me Y/N/N, I need you to just try for me,” She shushed you, kissing your forehead to bring you back to reality.

“Fuck…” You snapped out of it, frowning at your lack of control over your emotions. “Sorry…”

“It's okay, I'm not mad, you're being so good for me right now baby,” Chessy stroked your hair.

You blushed, hiding yourself in the crook of her neck.

“You don't think I'm a stupid slut…right?” You asked, the words muffled but still audible.

Chessy was shocked at the question, and she shook her head.

“What? No! Not at all babygirl!” She gasped, shocked you'd even suggest such an outlandish thing. “Why would you even think that? You know I love you more than anything,”

You just shrugged in reply.

“I don't know, I just…” You trailed off, your eyes falling down your line of vision before you finally shut them, taking in Chessy's scent and touch with open arms.

“You just what, sweet girl?” The older woman asked, her hand tangling through your locs and scratching the base of your scalp softly with her manicured nails.

“I'm just afraid that you think that now that I know that my professor thinks that,” You explained, swallowing down the lump in your throat to keep yourself from crying for the millionth time that day.

“My darling…I need you to look at me, can you do that for me, please?” Chessy tilted her head, barely lifting your chin up with the hand that was once massaging your scalp.

You didn't protest, you loved looking at her beautiful face, and also you were too tired and upset to protest anyways.

“Y/N,” She began with your full first name instead of your nickname, which let you know she was being serious when she said this. “I love you so much. When I first laid eyes on you I didn't think I was even looking at something real. You were perfect then and you're perfect now. I'm so lucky to call you my partner, and there's no one else I would rather spend my life with than you. The way you light up a room whenever you walk into it, the way you get so focused when you're determined to do something and your nose gets all scrunched up. You're one of the most hardworking people I know, don't let some dick that doesn't know what he's doing change that opinion about yourself.”

You laid there in shock, your eyes having widened and your mouth slightly agape from just how romantic and reassuring her words were towards you.

“Chessy I…” You barely managed to spit out, before hugging her tightly as you cried once more, but this time out of happiness rather than anxiety and sadness.

“I love you, Y/N,” Chessy smiled against your soft skin, kissing your neck as you held her tightly.

“I love you too, more than anything,” You smiled, sniffling and eventually relaxing your grip.

You two laid together for a few minutes, until another yawn escaped your lips.

“Is someone sleepy?” Chessy hummed, tilting your head up. “You must be after all the crying you did,”

You nodded.

“Mhm…” You said, your drowsy tone evident as you spoke…”

“Okay, you go to sleep baby, I'll be right here,” She assured you.

And she told the truth, staying with you until you fell asleep.

Once she heard your soft snores, she adjusted your position on her lap as she sat up and grabbed the phone.

She checked a book on her nightstand that belonged to you (or mainly the college you borrowed it from), and she dialed a number.

She sighed as someone finally picked up, and, remaining quiet so she didn't disturb you, she began to speak.

“Hi, can I speak to the Dean? I have a complaint to file,”

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira