#IT’S SO BAD. I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT. I SHOULD NOT HAVE THIS POWER
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i will go to secret gardens in my mind ✧ tamlin
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pairing: tamlin x archeron!fem!reader
summary: you have always been a wallflower, but to tamlin, you are the finest rose in the garden.
word count: 7,676
warnings?: angst with a happy ending, unrequited feelings, pining, multi pov, plot twist perchance??, not proofread
The Spring Court had been rebuilt. What would have been a joyous occasion under any other circumstances, for perhaps any other court, left your family scowling as they looked over the invitation that landed on Rhysand’s desk this morning. An invitation to all courts—to come to Spring and celebrate the burgeoning court. No one, it seemed, wanted to go. It was understandable, of course. After everything that Spring’s High Lord, Tamlin, had put Feyre through—had put your entire family through—it almost felt like walking into a trap. But call you naïve, or perhaps a tad too optimistic for your own good, but you wanted to believe that Tamlin might have truly turned over a new leaf. Sometimes, it took someone losing everything to learn the value of all that they hold dear. No one wanted to go, it seemed, except for you.
Well, and Lucien, but he often fought in Tamlin’s corner. “Tamlin is a far cry from what you remember him as,” he said. “What he did to Feyre was horrible, but he’s trying to make amends. Isn’t the point of the Night Court to offer second chances?”
“We don’t owe that worm a second chance,” Nesta snarled, her eyes narrowing at Lucien.
“It might be good for Feyre to close this chapter of her life,” Lucien continued.
Rhysand rolled his eyes. “Because you care so much about Feyre’s wellbeing. Remind me, what were you doing while she wasted away in that manor?”
“All I’m saying is, you should consider hearing him out. We all were troubled after Under the Mountain. His actions were, are, shameful, but that doesn’t mean he cannot regret what he did.”
You noticed the tension in Feyre’s shoulders and reached out, placing your hand on top of hers. “You don’t have to go. I just thought it might be fun. We haven’t just gone out in so long.”
Rhysand’s narrowed gaze turned on you. “Then we can go to Rita’s, or take a walk down the Sidra. Hell, I’m sure if we asked Tarquin, we could have a nice trip down to Summer if you’re wanting to go somewhere warm. We don’t have to go all the way to the damned Spring Court for fun.”
A sigh escaped your lips. You rose from your seat, turned to leave. “Forget I said anything.”
Feyre looked up at you. She said your name, standing to follow after you. “If you want to go—”
You waved her off. “It’s alright. I didn’t want to go that bad. I only thought it would be fun, but Rhys is right. We can do something else instead.”
She said your name again, but you ignored her. You understood why she of all people would be apprehensive of going to Spring. Trust and believe, you understood. Tamlin was hardly the most wonderful person in Prythian in your eyes. He let Feyre waste away, he sold you, Nesta, and Elain out to Hybern in a vain attempt to get Feyre back…At every turn, it seemed like he was dead set on humiliating her. But when it was all said and done, he still gave up a kernel of his power to bring back Rhysand. “Be happy, Feyre,” he’d said. It was nothing groundbreaking, it was not even close to an apology for all he’d done, but it seemed like a step in the right direction.
As you retreated to your room, you didn’t have to look to know you were being followed. Ever since Elain had accepted the mating bond with Lucien, Azriel always trailed so close behind you, he was like a second shadow. When you reached your room, you left the door open, allowing him to slip inside. The door clicked shut behind him.
You took a seat in the bay window, looking out over the city of Velaris. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”
The cushion sank underneath Azriel’s weight. You moved over, avoiding your knees knocking into his. “I just want to know what’s going on in your mind.”
“Does it matter? Rhysand has made his decision clear.”
“Of course it matters. It matters to me.”
It should’ve tugged at your heartstrings to hear him say those words. But all you were reminded of was how Azriel pined after Elain for so long, and for Mor for centuries before that. You were all too aware that you were just the latest object of his affection. “I don’t know. I just…It feels like something is calling for me to go there. Something trying to tug me along until I finally cross over Spring’s border.”
When you spared Azriel a glance, you noted the way his jaw clenched and unclenched. “You should tell Rhys that. He might be more amenable.”
“Rhysand is hardly amenable to anything that isn’t already in his favor.” You shrugged. “It’s not as if I’m Elain, with some vision about why we need to go to Spring. I just…I don’t know. I have a feeling it’s somewhere I should be.”
Azriel looked you over. Perhaps he was trying to ascertain if you’ve lost your mind. And maybe you had. You could hardly explain the feeling, deep in your chest, that pulled you towards the Spring Court. The feeling only intensified when you learned of the invitation to come to Spring’s celebration. “I’ll talk to Rhys for you. He’s been wanting to forge alliances with the other courts. If he’s able to extend a hand to Spring, other courts might be willing to work with him.”
You shrugged again. “Do as you please.”
He reached for your hand. You allowed him to take it. At least you found a modicum of comfort in the gentle squeeze. Azriel’s mouth opened—to say what, you weren’t sure, for a knock sounded against your door. It opened shortly after, Feyre slipping inside. Her eyes fell to your joined hands. The corner of her mouth quirked upwards. You pulled away. One of his shadows trailed after you.
“We’re going to Spring,” she said, smiling. But it didn’t reach her eyes.
You stood up, crossing the room in a few strides, then took Feyre’s hands. “We don’t have to if it’ll cause you pain. I don’t mean to dredge up those terrible memories.”
“I am High Lady. I can set aside those feelings for one night, if it might end in an alliance that will benefit my people. Besides, Lucien might be right. It might do me some good to speak with Tamlin under better circumstances.”
“Are you sure?”
She offered you a smile. “I’m sure.” She squeezed your hands. “You haven’t asked for much since you’ve come here. The least I can do is give you this.”
You shook your head. “No, Feyre, you’ve already gave up so much for our family—”
“Hush. If I didn’t want to do it, you know I wouldn’t.”
“Fine. But the second you’re uncomfortable, we all leave, okay?”
Feyre nodded. “Okay.”
Rhysand was certainly giving you the cold shoulder since Feyre insisted that you all go to the Spring Court, but you could hardly find it in yourself to care. Not when you finally got to trade in the darkness of Night for the blossoming life of Spring. You couldn’t wait to finally leave Night’s borders. You couldn’t quite remember the last time you had the opportunity to leave, save for the war with Hybern. Other than that, though, you had bounced between Rhysand’s many homes, going to whichever place made you least likely to pick a fight with the High Lord. These days, that was primarily the House of Wind, since he had given it to Cassian and Nesta. That, of course, left you with even fewer chances to go out. If you didn’t have an Illyrian to fly you down, you would have to brave the 10,000 stairs. And you were no Valkyrie—you were sure you wouldn’t even make it down a few dozen before throwing in the towel. Of course, you were certain that Azriel would be more than pleased to be at your beck and call.
After all, he sat on your bed now, watching as you rifled through your dresses, trying to pick something out to wear.
“You look beautiful in anything,” he said. “Why are you putting so much effort into this?” A hidden question was on the tip of his tongue—Were you trying to impress someone? Perhaps him?
“My mother always said, when you go outside, you look your best because you never know what will happen.”
Azriel stood up, crossing over to your wardrobe. A scarred hand wrapped around yours, stopping you from flicking through the dresses. His voice was husky as he asked, “And what do you think will happen?”
Your face grew warm. Even if you knew that he was only pursuing you because you were an Archeron, for a male to be so close to you…Well, it was easy to get you flustered. Stuck between Nesta’s vivaciousness and Elain’s sweetness, it was easy for you to fade into the background. When your family was better off, everyone flocked to Elain. After your family became rich again, Elain garnered so many men’s attention. Even Feyre, when your family was its lowest, found herself with someone, if just for the pursuit of pleasure. But you…You were a wallflower through and through.
“Anything. Nothing,” you said.
Your breath stilled as Azriel pulled a dress from your wardrobe. It was a beautiful blue tulle dress. Silver stars littered its entire body. There was a tasteful slit up one side. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, you knew there was a matching pair of long, sheer gloves. You had gotten it for Starfall, but found yourself tucking it away in favor of a simpler gown. It, however, wasn’t lost on you that its color complemented Azriel’s cobalt siphons well.
“You should wear this,” he said. “In case something does happen.”
You found yourself nodding.
A soft smile crossed his face. It took everything in you to not look away, lest you give him the wrong idea. You may have been a wallflower, but you were not a demure female. “I’ll let you get ready then.”
You nodded again.
Azriel placed the dress in your hands. You expected him to leave, but he lingered still. His hand grasped yours, pulling it up to meet his lips. He made eye contact with you the entire time, hazel eyes twinkling, before he pulled away.
When he was finally gone, a sigh escaped your lips. A part of you, you recognized, should have been delighted at Azriel’s attention. He was an attractive male. He had so many qualities that you admired—protective, loyal, kind. But anytime you looked at him, you were reminded of his past history with females. How he pined after Mor for centuries. How he fixated on Elain. In both cases, each made it clear in their own ways that it would never go further. And here you were, certain that you were sending clear signals that you were uninterested, and yet…There he remained. Where was Rhysand, telling him to leave you be? Could you only be left alone if you had a mate?
Perhaps it would be easier, you mused as you changed into the dress, if this tug in your chest was for Azriel. That, by going to Spring, something would happen that would make the bond snap for him. At least if he was your mate, you could convince him to get a home of your own, far away from the busybodies occupying the Inner Circle. At least you would finally feel free enough to breathe on your own.
You spared a glance in the mirror, satisfied with your hair and makeup, before leaving your room. It shouldn’t have surprised you to see Azriel waiting on the other side of the door, shadows swirling around him. His face brightened as he saw you. An arm was extended toward you. You took it.
“Beautiful, just as I expected.” Azriel smiled at you. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
All eyes were on the Inner Circle as you entered the manor, but you were too busy looking at everything else. Spring was…Mother, it was more beautiful than anything you had ever seen before. Not even Elain’s gardens held a candle to the beauty housed here. It was difficult to imagine how a Court so ethereal could have been in ruins just months before. It was easier, though, to see how Feyre could fall in love with this land.
It was even easier, you mused, to fall in love with Spring’s High Lord as he stepped into the Inner Circle’s path. It was the first time you really got a good look at him. When you were taken, you hadn’t dared look at your captors. And when you came out of the Cauldron, you cried so hard you couldn’t see. But the male before you now…Wow.
“Welcome,” he said, extending a hand to Rhysand. As Rhysand shook it, he turned to Feyre. “Thank you all for coming. I cannot imagine it was an easy decision to make.”
Feyre tilted her head in your direction. “Thank Lucien and my sister. It was their convincing arguments that brought us here.”
Tamlin’s emerald eyes fell to you. Something in your chest tugged harder, but you couldn’t dwell on it as Azriel took a subtle step in front of you. A charming smile passed across the High Lord’s lips. “Well, thank you, too,” he said. “And if I may, I must offer the utmost apologies for everything that transpired the last time our paths crossed. There is no excuse for my actions.”
You tried not to flinch at the mention of the Cauldron. The memory of being submerged as a human, reemerging as a fae…How everything was so different, too intense. It was, perhaps, the darkest part of your life thus far. You prayed it was never so dark again. “It wasn’t all bad,” you found yourself saying. “At least now I can live a long life with my sisters.”
“That is a generous way to think about it,” Tamlin said. He took a step toward you, a hand outstretched. His eyes flicked to Azriel as a growl escaped the Spymaster. Still, he reached for your hand. When you slipped it into his, he lifted it toward his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Something, something akin to joy, swirled inside of you. A tendril of a shadow pulled your hand from Tamlin’s. “Would you be so kind as to share a dance with me?”
“I—” The Inner Circle tensed around you, though you caught Lucien rolling his eyes at their antics. A dance didn’t seem so horrible, but you hated the way Feyre looked so uncomfortable at the prospect. You wished you were a daemati and could see what she was thinking. “Perhaps later. I should like to spend some time mingling.”
Tamlin seemed disappointed, but he still smiled as he said, “Of course. Have fun.”
He nodded at Feyre and Rhysand before disappearing into the crowd.
“It was like he disappeared the moment he laid eyes on Y/N,” Mor remarked, plucking a glass from a passing waiter’s tray.
“Don’t,” Feyre warned. She looked at you, her eyes wide with worry. “Don’t fall for his charms. Dance with him if you so wish. But…I don’t know how much I believed him to have changed.”
“I won’t. I haven’t forgotten what he’s done to you. It will take more than charming smiles and offers for dances to win me over,” you said, turning away from her. Your heart clenched at her distrust. Well, perhaps it wasn’t distrust. To be here, to be in Spring again, must have been extraordinarily difficult for her. But you were her sister. You knew her struggles, her pain, better than most. You weren’t going to throw all that away because Tamlin was kind to you. You weren’t that sort of female.
A scarred hand caught your wrist before you could slip away into the crowd, perhaps find a nice corner to hide in and people watch. “Would you? Like to dance?” Azriel asked.
“I see Kallias and Viviane. I would like to say hello.”
You could feel the Inner Circle’s eyes on you as you disappeared into the throng of fae. Though you were no daemati, you could practically hear their collective thoughts: You would be better off with Azriel. But what did they know about you?
Coming here was a mistake. You’d decided so hours ago as you could see various members of the Inner Circle keeping tabs on you from the corner of your eye. Despite hardly making a move from the corner you resided in, save for trips to the refreshment table or conversations with the few friends you had made from other courts, they still hovered. You wondered if it was under Rhysand’s orders, or perhaps Feyre’s. To make sure you didn’t slip away to dance with Tamlin, become the next pretty thing trapped in his gilded cage.
You sucked your tongue against your teeth as you watched Azriel approach you from across the room, Nesta and Cassian slipping off onto the dance floor. The changing of the guards. Your eyes rolled. Of everyone, Azriel’s presence was the worst. While the others would linger, he would stay by your side, trying to coax conversations out of you or pull you over for a dance. It might have been sweet if you weren’t all too aware that it was a vain effort to keep you from Tamlin. And unlike the others, who would have been merely following orders from the High Lady and Lord, Azriel had his own ulterior motives.
When you lost sight of Azriel, dancing couples blocking each other’s view of the other, you took the opportunity to slide out a nearby door and into the hall. They would be furious to learn you left—especially when it was because of you that they were even here. But you couldn’t handle the hovering any longer.
The music from the ballroom soon faded into the background as you walked down the hall, searching for some sanctuary. There were groups of fae lingering around the hallway, but none paid you any mind. It was refreshing, if you were being honest. They had no idea who you were, who your sisters were, of what they had done to save Prythian (or doom this court). You smiled at one couple, wrapped up in each other’s arms, blissfully unaware of all that happened around them.
You spied an open door and slipped inside. It was far smaller than the ballroom, but still grand. Paintings hung along the walls—a few you recognized to be in Feyre’s style. The thing that caught your eye, though, was the handsome piano in the middle of the room. A smile tugged at your lips. It had been so long since you’d had a chance to play. During your family’s dark years, you of course didn’t have access to any instruments, much less one so expensive. When you arrived in Velaris, straight out of the Cauldron, you had clung to the instrument, letting all of your pain flow out of you until there was nothing left. These days, though, you had strayed away.
You took a seat at the bench and ran your fingers along the ivory keys. You tested a few notes to see if it was still in key, but you didn’t make it very far.
“Do you play?”
Tamlin stood in the doorframe, watching you curiously. Panic settled in your chest. If the Inner Circle, if Feyre, found out that you were alone with Spring’s High Lord, you knew they would be less than pleased. But that tug in your chest—it pulled harder than it ever had before, and that brought you an odd sort of comfort.
“Yes.”
“May I hear you play something?”
You eyed him, trying to ascertain if this was some trick. As much as you wanted to believe your family was being overdramatic, you did wonder if they knew something you didn’t. When you sensed no ill motives, you gave a nod.
As you pressed down on the keys, it felt like everything melted away around you. There was no inter-court politics to be wary of. No Shadowsingers following close on your heels. No sisters whose heart would surely break if she knew you were letting him in. Just you and the music that flowed out.
“That was beautiful,” he said as the final note rang through the room. He took a few steps closer to you. Tamlin extended a hand. “I wish, though, that I could still hear it while we danced. If you would like to, that is.”
You stared at his outstretched hand.
“Just say the word if you don’t wish to. I know you didn’t dance out there, but I thought, perhaps, without all those eagle eyes watching you—”
You took his hand. “I’m not the best dancer.”
“That’s alright. Neither am I.”
Tamlin was a right liar, he was. As he spun you around the room, you clumsily just missing his feet, you knew he was a liar. But the awkward dance made you laugh, harder than you had in a long time. The tug in your chest pulled more than it ever had before.
“If this is you at your worst, I would hate to see how skilled you would be after a few lessons,” you teased.
“We could take lessons together,” Tamlin suggested. The thought made your smile grow, though you weren’t entirely sure why. “Maybe after tonight, your High Lord will let you visit more often.”
“Perhaps—” you began to say.
“That will never happen.”
Shadows swirled around you, tugging you out of Tamlin’s arms. You gasped, a chill running down your spine. Large wings kept Tamlin out of your view. When you tried to look around Azriel, his hands came to rest on your hips, holding you in place.
“Did he do something to you?” Azriel asked.
“What? No!”
“You just disappeared. Everyone’s in a panic. Feyre looked ready to kill, Nesta ready to hide the body. We didn’t know what happened to you. We didn’t know if you were hurt or—” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing at Tamlin. “—or worse.”
“I’m fine! I’m not some damsel in distress—”
“Of course not. But you have to understand—”
“No! You have to understand that you are not my knight in shining armor, Azriel! I am not so stupid to just waltz headfirst into danger. If I ever found myself in such a position, I would have screamed or called out for Rhysand and prayed he was listening. I do not need saving, especially not—” You caught Tamlin’s eye over Azriel’s shoulder. Something snapped into place, a golden thread tying you to him. “—especially not with my mate.”
Azriel’s eyes flashed. Hurt, maybe? Or anger? “He can’t be—”
“He is. He is the reason I felt the calling to come to Spring, Az. He’s my mate, and you have to respect that.”
Behind you, you heard a flurry of footsteps as the room quickly filled. Your eyes squeezed shut. Fuck. Was it not enough to have to deal with Azriel? Did everyone else have to come, too?
Feyre’s voice rang through the room. “Y/N, come here, please.”
“I should be allowed to make the choice to come, shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what the Night Court is all about?” You looked at her, a solitary tear dropping down your face. “What? Are choices not allowed when it goes against your wishes?”
“Please,” she repeated, her hand reaching out for you.
Tamlin stepped around Azriel, stood by your side. “I would not hurt her, Feyre. I have given you every reason to distrust me, to hate me, but I wouldn’t do anything to her.”
Feyre closed the distance between the two of you, Rhysand hot on her heels. She snarled at Tamlin, “I have every reason to not believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”
“I understand—”
Her finger jabbed at his chest. “Don’t. Don’t you dare give me any honeyed words or false promises about how Y/N—my sister—being your mate changes things. A skunk still stinks even when it hasn’t sprayed.”
“Feyre, please, can’t we just talk this through—” you tried. This was going horribly wrong. You hadn’t imagined any of this would happen just by following the tugging in your chest. A mate, you might have suspected. But all of this—
Her head snapped toward you. Her eyes glazed over as Rhysand spoke into her mind. When they cleared, she spoke with the authority of a High Lady but with none of the love of a sister.“You said we could leave if I became uncomfortable. I would like to leave,” Feyre said. “Rhys, please, get her out of here.”
Rhysand’s hands were on you, winnowing you away, before you could even dare to make your protests. But you didn’t miss the pain in Tamlin’s beautiful emerald eyes.
Feyre had made a terrible mistake. Since that horrible, awful ball, you were moved into the River House so she and Rhys could keep an eye on you. While you might not have been able to leave the House of Wind without an Illyrian to fly you down or otherwise brave the 10,000 steps, that didn’t mean that you wouldn’t try to go. At least here, they could make sure you remained in place. Anyone who wished to see you, save for Spring’s Cauldron damned High Lord, could. They just needed to make are that something horrible wouldn’t happen.
But you hadn’t left your room in weeks. They would send food up to you, but would find only small bites taken out of it when they came for the next meal. You had said scarcely a single word. The only time you would move from your bed was to take a bath, where you would sit for hours still. Once, Feyre had gone to check on you, to make sure that you hadn’t hurt yourself, and found you staring at the bubbled water, unblinking. You hadn’t even realized she was there.
The only person you seemed to respond to was Azriel. He would go to your room, crawl in your bed, and play with your hair. Sometimes, Feyre would linger in the doorway, watching you and him. Azriel would talk to you, try and convince you to leave your room. You would only cry.
And now, Feyre paced the length of Rhys’s office, chewing on the corner of a fingernail. Rhys sat at his desk, his face leaned against his palm.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I don’t know how to make this better. She, she’s wasting away in there.”
Rhys let out a sigh. “There is an obvious solution to the problem, though not the preferred one.”
Feyre spun on her heel, narrowing her eyes at her mate. “You know perfectly well that I can’t just let her be with Tamlin. It would be safer sending her into a viper’s den.”
He rose and crossed the room, took her hands in his own. “You don’t mean that. You and Tamlin were not right for each other, especially after everything that happened Under the Mountain. You no longer wanted the same things as him. Was his actions wrongful? Of course. He could have tried to help you, but you also pushed him away. It was doomed from the start.”
“And I should let her go into a doomed relationship with him?” Feyre poked her finger at Rhys’s chest. “She is too good for that. She deserves a better mate.”
“I agree. But the Mother found reason to bind their souls together. You once thought I was something straight out of a nightmare, but look how far we’ve come.”
“I recall you hating Tamlin for everything he did to me.”
“And I do. I still do.” A sigh escaped Rhys’s lips. “But I also look at Y/N and remember having to leave you behind in Spring. I remember collapsing in Mor’s arms, begging for just a chance with you. I was a shell of myself then. I worry that if we keep them apart, we’ll lose her either way.”
Feyre turned away. She looked toward the door. For a flicker of a moment, she wished she could go back to that horrible cottage, when she was still a human. Even if survival was a struggle at best, she didn’t have to worry about your sweet soul being taken advantage of.
“Send a letter to Tamlin,” she finally said. “Tell him he is welcome to come here. If Y/N so wishes to leave with him, she may. But make clear, if a single hair on her head is harmed, if we receive a single word that she is being treated as anything less than what she deserves, it will constitute an act of war.”
Tamlin stared up at the River House. He had moved faster than he had ever moved before when the invitation to come to the Night Court was extended. So fast, he realized with a glance at his feet, he forgot to put on shoes before winnowing away. He hoped you wouldn’t mind. Ever since Rhysand had winnowed you out from under his nose, he had been a mess. If Tamlin thought losing Feyre was him at his lowest, it paled in comparison to losing you. Worse yet, he had the previous experience to know he couldn’t give into his desperate impulses and expect everything to go smoothly. No, he had to tread carefully.
Still, he found himself sending you letters over the last few weeks. Tamlin never received a response, but he never expected one. He wasn’t sure how well you were being surveilled, if the Inner Circle were taking active steps to keep you from contacting him. But he hoped his words brought you some modicum of comfort.
The door swung open before he had a chance to knock. Rhysand looked him over. “You didn’t have time to at least make yourself presentable?”
“I thought if I took too much time, the invitation would be rescinded.”
Rhysand’s brow raised. “I wasn’t aware you could have such intelligent thoughts. You know, since you had sided with Hybern so readily in the beginning.”
Tamlin bit back a snarl. It would not end well to pick a fight with Night’s High Lord. He knew good and well he was out-powered, and he was sure that Feyre’s threat should also extend to any threat her own mate faced. Instead, he said as diplomatically as he could manage, “It was a terrible mistake, but one I would make again if it would give me a chance to live a long life with my mate, should she so have me.”
Feyre appeared, pushing Rhysand out of the doorway. She, too, scrutinized his appearance, nose wrinkling at the sight of him, but at least had the courtesy to say nothing about it. “You came quickly.”
Somewhere in the distance, Tamlin could hear Cassian chortle and mutter something about “that’s what she said.”
“I did not know how long this invitation of hospitality might remain open.” Tamlin searched Feyre’s eyes, searching for a sign of your wellbeing. “Is she alright?”
Tamlin watched as Feyre swallowed, her hands subtly shaking. She had always cared deeply about her sisters, perhaps you more than Nesta or Elain. Where Nesta could hold her own and Elain was sweet enough to charm any potential suitor, she worried that you were too quiet for your own good. Too willing to slip into the shadows and be forgotten.
“She has hardly eaten since that night. We…We have fixed dinner. We thought she might be more amenable if you brought a plate to her room?”
“Of course, of course,” Tamlin said. Feyre moved out of the threshold, motioning for him to step inside. He did. “Has she…?”
“She hasn’t said a word. She just sits and stares. I thought females were able to suppress the bond. I don’t understand why she is so afflicted.”
Tamlin suppressed an eye roll. He had to play nice, at least until he could see you again. Until he could find out if you wished to be his mate. “You took her choice away, Feyre,” he bit out, weighing his words carefully. “Anyone would be heartbroken by such a betrayal. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Rhysand snarled, but Tamlin ignored him. He maintained eye contract with Feyre until she looked away, gesturing to the dining room. “Take a plate to her room. Just up the stairs, third door on the right.”
He gave a curt nod and did as directed. Every step weighed him down. Tamlin was grateful, at least, for the plate in his hand, to distract him from the sinking feeling in his chest. Neither you nor him had closed off the bond. Tamlin felt every bit of your anguish and he had done everything he could to send comfort down the bond. Every day, he prayed to the Mother that it helped you. Now, as he stood on the other side of your door, he wasn’t sure it did.
The door was ever so slightly ajar. Tamlin pushed it open. The sight nearly made him fall to his knees. You were laying in bed, back to him, staring out the large window overlooking the gardens. If it wasn’t for a subtle rise and fall of your chest, he might have thought you dead. Tamlin stepped inside, walking around your bed, until he faced you. He set the plate on your nightstand and knelt in front of you.
“Have my dreams begun to torment me, too?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“No,” Tamlin whispered back. He reached out, cupping your face in his hand. His thumb run over the swell of your cheek. “I am here. I am real. Feyre allowed me to come.”
“I cannot even trust my subconscious now,” you said. You rolled over onto your back and stared up at the ceiling. Your comforter moved with you, revealing the papers you kept clutched against your chest. Your eyes fell shut.
Tamlin sat on the edge of your bed. He reached over and brushed your hair from your face. “Open your eyes, please. I am here. Feyre had Rhysand send me a letter, inviting me here. I can show you if you like?”
An eye opened. “I doubt you could. Everyone knows that written word in dreams hardly makes sense.”
He pulled the letter tucked away in his pocket. Carefully unfolding it, he pressed it into your hands. Your other eye opened. Slowly, you sat up, dropping the other letters—his letters—from your grip. Your eyes scanned over the page, once, twice, three times. Slowly, you looked up, as if seeing him for the first time.
“You’re here?”
“I am.”
“Feyre allowed it?”
“She did.”
Your hand moved to your mouth. You chewed on your thumbnail. “She would hate me if I left.”
“She would not. And, even if she did, that is her burden to bear. Feyre cannot keep you sheltered here anymore than I could her.” Tamlin grabbed the plate and held it out to you. “Could you eat first, before we talk about this? Please?”
You stared at the plate for a long, silent more. Tamlin nearly thought you hadn’t heard him. He was ready to ask again, the words on the tip of his tongue, when you looked up at him. “Could we go to the gardens to eat?”
“Of course.”
Tamlin extended a hand to you. You slipped yours into his grasp. Joy soured through him. He bit back his smile as he helped you to your feet. His hands were quick to move to your waist, steadying you as you swayed. How long had you been laying there, in that bed? Had you even left it? A part of him, a territorial part he worked hard to keep at bay, had half a mind to scold Feyre for waiting this long. He, of course, would be a hypocrite if he did. But you also deserved someone in your corner.
Slowly, the two of you moved out of your room and down the stairs. At the creak in the wooden steps, all conversation in the dining room ceased. There was a scrape of a chair. Feyre appeared in the doorway as you reached the bottom step. You didn’t make eye contact with your sister as you turned for the exit.
“Y/N wished to eat in the gardens,” Tamlin said and followed after you. He did not wait for Feyre’s response.
You stared at Tamlin, chewing on the bread that Elain had made. He made no protest when you plopped yourself on the dirt path. He only sat across from you and watched as you slowly ate your food. It nearly made you sick, if you were honest. You hadn’t experienced this level of hunger since you were human. You remembered when Feyre would bring food home, how you would have to eat slowly so you wouldn’t vomit it all up. There was something about such extreme hunger that it almost felt like food couldn’t save you from the gnawing pain.
“I still do not quite believe you’re really here,” you said.
“I can promise you, I am.” Tamlin reached for your hand, and you allowed him to take it. His thumb stroked over your knuckles. “I have missed you. If I wasn’t concerned that an unprompted arrival would have waged a war no court could surely handle, I would have come sooner.”
“It was not right what they did…” You trailed off.
Tamlin’s emerald green eyes twinkled with curiosity. “But?” he prompted.
“I am not sure I can find it in my heart to leave them,” you said. His face dropped. His hand started to pull away, but you tightened your grip. “Feyre and Nesta are still here. While Feyre may have given the order to take me away, she is my sister. She sacrificed so much for our family. I feel like I would be throwing it all back in her face to go to Spring with you. At least when Elain left, she was going with Lucien to Day. People she could trust, you know. I worry that if I leave with you, she would never see me again.”
He straightened. “I would never keep you from your sister. Any of them. I have done little to prove such, but I have learned from my mistakes with Feyre. I have grown, am still growing, from them.”
“Not because of you,” you corrected. “You know how she feels about you. Even if I extend an invitation to her, she still may never come. And she may never extend one back. I could never forgive myself if I damaged our relationship so.”
Tamlin’s eyes searched yours. For what, you couldn’t be certain.
“If she does so, she would be the one to damage the relationship. I have hurt her greatly, I understand. But, if she chooses to plant herself between you and I, that is her choice to make and her consequences to bear.” He reached over, cradling your face in his hand. “You are a grown female. If this is a mistake of its own, then it is your mistake to make. She cannot keep you here any better than I tried to keep her in Spring.”
You looked away. You pushed the plate away and began to rise. Tamlin followed after you. As you began to walk down the path, he trailed after you. He kept a distance between you, far enough that he wasn’t on your heels but close enough that he could be at your side in a few long strides.
In your heart, you knew he was right. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal, no matter how hard you tried. After everything Feyre has done, after all she has suffered, staying with her was the least you could do. Yet, why would you sacrifice your happiness for hers when she was so quick to rip it from you without even listening to what you had to say? You could not yet forget the cold look in her eyes as she ordered Rhysand to winnow you away. She was not your sister then. She was anything but.
“Come to Spring,” Tamlin said from behind you. You paused in your step. You did not turn, but you listened. “It does not have to be permanent. Come to Spring, see if this is worth it. If you decide that it is not, then I will not stop you from returning here. I will respect whatever choice you make, but I would appreciate it if you could give us a fair shot. That is all I ask of you, I swear it.”
You turned. You looked past Tamlin at the River House. You were certain that Feyre and Rhysand were trying to listen in on the conversation. You were sure they were waiting for your answer. But, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care what they thought. After all, they hadn’t cared to ask if you even wanted Tamlin as a mate.
“One chance,” you said. “One chance, and if I decide to that I would rather a relationship with Feyre, you must not follow.”
“I promise, whatever you decide in the end, I shall respect it.”
Feyre watched as you gripped Tamlin’s arm, an apologetic smile on your lips. She had a million things she wished to say to you—a hundred warnings, a few hundred thousand promises to have her door open to you if you ever want to come back, and an acceptance to the offer to visit Spring in a month’s time. Instead of saying any of those things, she mouthed a goodbye while Tamlin winnowed you away.
Rhys’s hand fell to her shoulders, steadying her as she swayed on her feet. Somewhere in the distance, she could see Nesta and Cassian hovering. Elain and Lucien busied themselves with clearing the dishes.
“She’ll be alright,” Rhys said. “He is not so stupid as to make the same mistakes again.”
Feyre hummed. “Is this where you say it's different with mates?”
Rhys rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen too many awful mated couples to say that with any ounce of sincerity. But, I will say, he does seem different with her.”
“And if he isn’t,” Nesta said, stepping toward her, “he will pay tenfold for any pain he causes her.”
Feyre nearly laughed as she watched Cassian nod enthusiastically to Nesta’s threat as he bounced Nyx on his hip. She could only hope that you knew how protected you were—that you had the entirety of the Night Court to support you should trouble ever make its way to you. But any laughter she had, any words she wanted to say, died in her throat as shadows flooded the River House.
Azriel.
Shit. Rhys had sent him off on a mission a few days prior. Azriel had been reluctant to go—one of the few times she was certain that Azriel would fight her mate to the death on an issue. But it was Feyre’s promise to keep you safe in the River House that gave him leave to go. She had forgotten that when she had the letter sent to Tamlin, when she bid you goodbye. You were gone now and, worse, you hadn’t said goodbye to him.
“Where. Is. She.”
Feyre turned, looking at Azriel’s towering form darkening the doorway. His wings were flared out behind him, beating furiously as his shadows continued to search the home for any sign of you.
“She has gone to Spring, with Tamlin.”
Azriel growled. His nostrils flared. The shadows began to swirl around Feyre. Rhys took a step in front of her, ready to block any attack sent her way. Would Azriel attack her? Why would he be so upset about not being able to say goodbye to you? She knew he pined after you, but she thought it was like Mor and Elain. Something one-sided. Had she missed something?
“It was her choice, brother,” Rhys said. “We are welcome to visit her whenever we so please. If you would like, we can go now, just so you may have a chance to talk to her.”
“If I go to Spring, I’m bringing her straight here. This is where she belongs. Not with that swine of a High Lord.”
“She has every right to choose to be with her mate—”
“No!” Azriel snapped. “I am her mate!”
It felt like time froze. Everyone stared at the Shadowsinger. Even Elain and Lucien came out from the kitchen, concern about his antics. Feyre blinked. No, that couldn’t be. Tamlin was your mate. You had felt the bond with him, and he you.
“Triads are a thing of legend,” Rhys said slowly. “They haven’t existed in millennia…Cauldron, no one has ever been sure they were ever truly real. You aren’t suggesting…”
“All I know is that the bond snapped when I found her crying after Nyx’s birth, so certain she’d lose her sister, brother-in-law, and nephew in one fell swoop that all three of you surviving overwhelmed her. It snapped as I held her, trying to reassure her that all was right. That no one would hurt her or her family.” Azriel took a step toward them, glowering. “You have sent my mate into a lion’s den. Lesser males have killed for lesser slights.”
“Azriel, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” Feyre tried.
But he was already gone—wings rustling against the wind as he flew away. To where, she couldn’t say for certain.
#tamlin imagine#tamlin x reader#tamlin x fem!reader#tamlin x female rader#tamlin x you#tamlin x y/n#tamlin fanfiction#tamlin fan fiction#tamlin fanfic#tamlin fan fic#tamlin fic#starrywrites#starryevermore
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Adam (hazbin hotel) x gn! reader that lets him do whatever he wants? Like he asks her food and she give him her food, he asks her some money (max 1 dollar obviously, I know he should be rich) and she gives them to him, he asks you a bite of your food and you let him even taking your bite on his😭😭 thanks if you do it, I think it's could be so cute to be this kind and patient with him
Adam x reader who lets him do anything
i did not sleep well again last night... sighs
notes: reader is GN
cws: none
hes always used to getting what he wants, and usually without much compromise if its something that he can get away with
so the fact that you dont give him all that much resistance doesnt strike him as something odd or as a you thing for a while
do i think he would eventually notice? oh definitely, but would he completely stop?
eeehh....
he wouldnt use it to take advantage of you or for anything huge, even if you were also powerful or of high status in heaven and could just do just about anything you wanted
wonders for a moment if youre the same with other people, makes him feel many things. makes him feel oddly jealous that hes not the only one youre doing this kind of stuff for but also feels bad because- do you have a backbone?
hes a little hypocritical about it when he tries to breach the subject with you
does make sure youre not doing the same stuff for other people, gives you some light shit if youre being bullied into doing so
still loves being spoiled, probably would never betray your trust- so actually... with everything taken into consideration, its actually a little sweet
he has your back and you have is, even if its shown in small ways
hes always used to getting what he wants, and usually without much compromise if its something that he can get away with
so the fact that you dont give him all that much resistance doesnt strike him as something odd or as a you thing for a while
do i think he would eventually notice? oh definitely, but would he completely stop?
eeehh....
he wouldnt use it to take advantage of you or for anything huge, even if you were also powerful or of high status in heaven and could just do just about anything you wanted
wonders for a moment if youre the same with other people, makes him feel many things. makes him feel oddly jealous that hes not the only one youre doing this kind of stuff for but also feels bad because- do you have a backbone?
hes a little hypocritical about it when he tries to breach the subject with you
does make sure youre not doing the same stuff for other people, gives you some light shit if youre being bullied into doing so
still loves being spoiled, probably would never betray your trust- so actually... with everything taken into consideration, its actually a little sweet
he has your back and you have is, even if its shown in small ways
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#hazbin imagine#hazbin adam x reader#hazbin adam x you#hazbin adam imagine#adam x reader#adam x you#adam imagine#hazbin hotel adam x reader
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the moment i figured out i could pretend to be my mom and call myself in sick to school and they wouldn’t call my parents to let them know i was absent it was all over for me
#IT’S SO BAD. I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT. I SHOULD NOT HAVE THIS POWER#ok sorry for being dramatic i’ve literally skipped only twice ever. once bc i needed smth last minute for my halloween costume and i#genuinely didn’t have any other time i could go get the dye before the party and the other time today bc if i wrote that math test i#would’ve failed it. so i had to go study and such#IT WAS HOWEVER really funny when we were discussing skipping in english class and my teacher was like ur parents wouldn’t let you skip#anyway and dani and i made eye contact and just sorta nodded (bc i told her how to fool the system and we were planning on skipping for fun)#.txt#this post is misleading actually i’ve never called myself in sick. i’ve used doctors appt and dentist appt respectively
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he's waiting on a call he's planning to send straight to voicemail
#sorry matthias </3 maybe he'll pick up the next time you try calling............ <- me when i lie#river dipping#ts4#ts4 edit#gifs#theodore doe#echthroi#hi friends and lovers hope everyone's doing well <3#i got my old laptop to work so i have a laptop again even if the battery on it is messed up#but still#i haven't been online much bc i've started getting dizzy from staring at computer/phone screens for too long#and in particular the act of scrolling either on mobile or desktop makes my head spin and my eyes hurt :/#but i powered through it yesterday so i could get in game with theo (and matthias) since i missed him really bad... oc plague be upon ye#i took... well. like five hundred screenshots and forty videos... i was in the soup. the mattodore soup. what can i say?#i don't like posting too much on here bc. i'm crazy (<- has avpd) so i probably won't post much from yesterday's fun here#but i'll post whatever i want on pillowfort <3 pic of jerma holding out his hand captioned let's take mattodore together#what else should i say before leaving... right my inbox... well i'll get to it eventually <- have been saying this since october sorry#but okay i've been staring at my screen too long so i need to go lay down for a bit#enjoy theo in motion!! if you’re a theo-head like myself#theodite à la jermamite? hm. its in the works. i’m workshopping.#mentioning jerma twice in these tags… busting a cyanide pill onto my tongue i’ve said too much#i have to go now mwah mwah mwah bye warmth and love to you mwah
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[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]
---
"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.
Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.
I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.
#sdmi#scooby doo: mystery incorporated#pericky#ricky owens#professor pericles#anyway fucking end me actually. lay me down to die#i said i was gonna write more pericky and by fucking god i did#the 'why did you do this to me' to 'oh thank god you didn't actually do this to me' pipeline of abuse folks 🥲#which like. their last conversation is yet another devastating example of ricky finally standing up to pericles' bullshit Too Late#ricky denounces him in the strongest terms he knows; based on his own feelings and opinions and the way he sees the world#(which: even then he can't bring himself to say 'i don't love you anymore')#(the closest he can get is 'i chose you and i can't take it back; the only way i can imagine not loving you is if i never had at all')#and pericles tries to go 'nyeh nyeh whatever i don't care' (and does a real bad job of pretending he is not obviously hurt lmao)#and ricky doesn't try to understand his logic; he doesn't try to reconcile a world where pericles didn't *really* mean to do anything wrong#his response is MAYBE YOU *SHOULD* CARE.#pericles' view of the world and what's right and acceptable are warped and *wrong* and he's the one who needs to get his shit together#'you shouldn't have abused me you shouldn't have killed cassidy you shouldn't have murdered a child in cold blood'#that is MASSIVE and i think it is really telling that pericles' response is to shut him down with force instead of trying to argue any more#and that in the end is the real true fucking tragedy of it all#ricky is making huge strides one after the other to take back his freedom from pericles emotionally#....and materially it makes no difference to improve his situation in the moment; because pericles doesn't have any less power to abuse him#he never has a triumphant moment where he Overcomes His Abuser and Breaks Out of His Control#there's nothing he can do to fight back until pericles is too Literally Dead to control him anymore#it is one of the rawest depictions of the reality of abuse i've ever seen and just. God. i love it so much#(at the same time i REALLY want to explore a version of events where he got the chance to expand further on that growth)#(the 'all witches are selfish; make all things yours; i have a duty' speech from the wee free men comes to mind)#whosebaby makes things#whosebaby writes#SDMItag#dyn: when i die i want you to die too
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“if you are trying to be a phd candidate in a social science field why the fuck are you studying math for fun” because i’m quirky and hot. next question.
#uriel posting#currently doing a crash course review of calc 1 and 2….. inverse trig function integrals are like a divorced lover who i still yearn for#to me.#mathblr#i guess#i think i’m mainly just pissed that i went from having the most legendary math instructors ever#to getting the 1-2 bad instructor combo and being turned off from the field for a bit#‘oh i used to be good and math and love it’ (<- he still does)#recently realized i can just. do it on my own#i was homeschooled i pretty much taught myself math from a textbook grades 6-10#(parents consist of a former math major and mechanical engineer. i wasn’t starved for resources they were there if i needed help)#(also did dual credit grades 11 and 12. goated math instructors of all time i miss them every day)#i have so much power now. i can learn anything i want to forever#<- guy about to become the most insufferable man in the universe#you mean i can just get the textbook from the library. about anything ?#not just math. i have realized i can do this for whatever. guy who is gonna learn about art history and is so excited#if i could i’d just stay in school forever and get 83 degrees#alas#this also loops around to my philosophy that anyone anywhere should be able to learn whatever they want#i will keep you updated on how this process goes 🫡 i am keeping notes incase anyone after me is interested#god. i’m gonna be That Guy (derogatory)#‘i always wished i had majored in classics. i always enjoyed it’ can i interested you in a google document with links and a drive folder
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Your sanctimony helps victims of genocide equally as much as fandom posting.
#“your yaoi will still be here tomorrow so it is morally imperative that you supplant your entire feed with I/P updates”#“taking a break from the constant deluge of news about how global superpowers who oppress you are now backing a genocide of your siblings#makes you weak because people are dying. look at the videos of people dying you selfish bitch. you want to help people don't you?#this is your moral imperative.“#and most recently: “if you give money to this nonprofit i don't like you're a bad person”#like even I think that donating to aooo at this point is a waste of money but c'mon.#let's not pretend that you only feel this way because you care so much about gazans#anyway people as individuals have very little power to affect anything#if we all do what we can then that collective will have more of a positive impact#than whatever negative impact is caused by you closing tumblr for the day#this is not to say that you should do nothing at all. this is NOT an anti-do things post.#but there isn't much more use to you burning yourself out with worry than there is to sanctimony or fandom posting#write to your senator. donate to the orgs in the pinned. take part in a protest if you're able.#but if you can't do these things rest assured that many many others are#lolwut.txt
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Going on record to say I can’t stand scoutandcompany *bracing for impact*
#I’m WAITING for someone to see this and try and dogpile me#idk what it is abt scout and their followers but they SCOUR for ‘hate’#anyway. stop talking about animal care you have no experience or knowledge abt and making blanket statements#when you know full well your influence and the way ppl hang on ur every word#‘the rabbit people’ are actual farmers that deal with livestock as more than just a hobby. sometimes it’s ugly work dude.#if you can’t handle it just fuckin say so but that doesn’t mean you side eye the people who CAN#*cough* instead of letting upwards of 20 sale barn calves die in ur arms bc you couldn’t cull them when they got too far*cough*#that’s all I’m gonna say bc I know some keyboard warrior is gonna swoop in and try a ‘gotcha’ or some shit#but I really. don’t think scout should be talking w any kind of authority considering their situation#I don’t think they’re a bad person. I do think they’re full of themselves and on a power trip though#you can’t be a bleeding heart and be a farmer. you can’t do it. in order to keep livestock you have to get used to death#that doesn’t mean you can’t be SAD abt it but like. it has to be done and it’s not always bc of being a runt or whatever#and like ppl have said I 100% get not wanting to do so for calves when birth is such an ordeal for cows and they only have one or two#but that means you don’t have any authority to speak on nestbox culling in general so like. don’t lol
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every once in a while I come up with a drawing idea that's like "oh my god that's so funny but I think I'll be crossing a line if I post that--"
#BORDERLINE NS.FW JOKES WILL BE THE END OF ME#Theyre so funny but GODDAMNIT i should not be posting shit like that on main 😭😭😭😭😭😭#before i had an idea to. draw jay and cole (yes from n1njago#and jays like got geode necklacea & hes like ''hey cole i got us matching jo crystals so our energies will become powerful'' or whatever#and I NEVER DREW IT bc i didnt have the energy to#and it mighr be a good thing bc i look back on that idea and go ''oh my god i CANT post shit like that .''#the idea still makes me laugh tho#anyway my current dilemma is these tweets of some body with a Garfield shirt pulled up to expose her torso (in a sexy way) like#''do u like my Garfield shirt ;) <33''#and number1garfieldfan responds ''yeah can u pull it down so i can see it''#and they do and Garfield fan is like ''AWWW YEAAA THAT SHIRT FLAMES''#the point here is i want to draw that as klav and Polly#but i realized i might be crossing a line for myself if i draw klav with his shirt pulled up like that#though ngl its not as bad as jo crystals so I'll still consider drawing it#i would change it from Garfield to being like a calico cat or smth and polly's icon is mikeko#and his handle is like mikekocalicocat or whatever#rando thoughtz
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Despite Danny's best efforts, no matter how much time past, Amity Park refused to see Phantom as a hero.
Sure, there were pockets of support, particularly among teens, but most of the town blames Phantom for the property damage, saying if he didn't fight the ghosts then it wouldn't be so bad, to that time he got mind controlled by Freakshow and "attacked" the mayor. It wears him down. It wears Tucker and Sam down. Jazz can only try to support them all.
Then one day, a member of the Justice League visits. Someone minor, and kinda a jerk... maybe a Wonder Twin? Zan? Whatever. They don't investigate; they don't look deeper. They listen to the town folks and declare the ghost hunters, Red Huntress and the Fentons, to be the official heroes of the town.
Worse? Danny Phantom is officially considered a villain to the Justice League. Tuck hacks into the Watchtower and confirms that they have a file (a heavily inaccurate file) about how to defeat Phantom.
Danny doesn't think he can do this anymore.
A few weeks later, a young villain escapes into Amity and demands (begs) that Danny help them escape from the hero after them. No idea who, I can't find a lot of info on teen villains in DC, so let's fudge some ages and make it Kyd Wyckyd from the Teen Titans cartoon. Danny agrees, because to hell with the Justice Losers, and they defeat the hero, becoming friends in the process. Kyd confesses that they became a villain after being ostracized bc of how they look, and they've been trying to avoid villain organizations because HIVE was abusive, but it's really hard to be a villain alone bc of all the heroes.
Sam gets an idea. Tucker agrees with the idea. Jazz is just happy they'll end up making friends.
The next day, the Teen Villain Alliance is formed, ready to assist with any teenage illegal shenanigans their allies might get into.
Some notes:
It's created to be a healthier option for teen "villains" to connect with others and support each other.
It's more important that this is for Teens rather than Villains. They're tired of adult villains taking advantage of them. The TVA would rather ally with a teen vigilante than with an adult villain.
Again, no idea who the teen villains are, but Klarion is definitely here. He leaves the Light for the chaos of the TVA. Maybe Ember is there too?
Timeline wise, this is around when Tim is still Robin, but Damien has arrived at Wayne Manor.
This is because, when it comes time to try to infiltrate the TVA, they'll have a convenient child-assassin who has none of the monitors of a teen hero that Phantom immediately picks up on.
Damien, who at this point has been abandoned by his mother, dismissed and scolded by his father, and has had no success at carving his own place in the family, jumps at the chance. He is then surrounded by peers who don't insult him or try to change his behavior (too much; jazz is trying to help him find healthier methods of expressing himself). He... might not want to continue being a spy.
Danny, Sam, Tuck, and Jazz are the founding members.
Danny reinvents himself as the High Prince of the Infinite, Prince Phantom Dark. He got kingship from fighting Pariah Dark, but since he's still alive, he's only a prince. He steals the last name Dark as an intimidation tatic against those in the know; only Danny would have the balls to claim family with Pariah.
Sam works as a powerless villain, but she might no be powerless? Either way, Danny gives her a bunch of repurposed Fenton tech, and she buys the rest with her parents credit card. She does NOT care if that's traced back to the Mansons. She would choose something goth, maybe something spider related or even bat?
I love Pharaoh Tucker, so I think he should get magic powers? Since pharaohs of old were considered the balance between the real and the divine. He's still a tech guy, now he's a tech and magic guy.
Jazz isn't really a villain, more of a team mom who's planning on using everyone's psyche's as her thesis paper. You know what, that's her callsign, she's Psyche. Sometimes she flirts with Nightwing.
#dc x dp#villain!everlasting trio#dcxdp#villain danny phantom#teen villain alliance#c: danny fenton#c: sam manson#c: tucker foley#c: jazz fenton#c: kyd wyckyd#c: klarion the witch boy#c: batfamily#c: damien wayne#they don't have an agenda like most villain team ups#they're there to support each other commit crimes and play pranks on the justice losers#dp x dc#dp crossover#dc crossover
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so many ppl online are like “hahah yeah guillotine” but i really doubt the majority of ppl saying that could actually stomach it.
#and also: no its not normal to desensitize yourself to gore. idc what you say ✌️#ik we're all 'jail is bad' but ngl. since a lot of the ppl oppressing us in power are specifically positive about jail#i think itd be waaay more fun to throw em in there so they can get a taste of their own medicine lmao#bc idk about yall but i think they should face a myriad of consequences before they get the luxury of sweet release#everyone gets ta kick em in the nuts once dhjbsfdvhgfdgshv#maybe giving in too much to the punishment shit? maybe#i just feel like the guillotine is. too good for them.#then again. it might immediatly purge whatever demon is posessing them lol#but also you know how i feel about this shit where it can spiral out of control and ppl start to think its fine to kill average citizens#and then we become no better then the cops#bc tbh feeding your bloodsports desire with blood is not good. lets maybe not just. normalize that shit#so maybe locking them up is the better solution 😌#/jk bc tbh idk what is a good solution since im worried a lot of ppl in our movement just uhm. really likes bloodsports#and does really get off on punishing ppl#which will make them want to do it more once we have no more oppressive ppl to kill.........#and will make up reasons to kill average ppl... probably informed by callout posts dsjhbsdvghb#all ill say is this; remember kids- dont become like your enemies and do what they would do.#because soon the line will blur between who is the real bad guy when you have so much blood on your hands#+ you'd literally be giving your enemies a justified persecution complex. soooooooooooo...
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Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.
Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.
But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.
The Abduction is The Thing.
Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.
Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.
It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.
I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!
It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.
"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.
And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.
They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.
Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.
That's how it went.
I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:
This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!
Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬･ wc: 3,383
↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx
nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table.
a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away.
he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home.
your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to.
you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current.
he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.
he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.
shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately.
“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat.
that student was his responsibility...
...and he failed him entirely.
“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango. “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!”
her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day.
he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down.
“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet.
right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her...
“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on.
“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair.
“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles.
“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”
“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!”
she’s only six.
she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction.
he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty.
he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.
he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…
all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.
“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.”
his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him.
the room is dead silent.
your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice.
what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.
nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place.
he regrets his words immediately.
he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room.
･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･
the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next.
fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.
you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists.
“kento?”
he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away.
after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry.
“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement.
his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?”
the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright.
“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug.
nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.
your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.
a safety, a reassurance of home.
you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."
a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.
nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."
you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.
"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"
"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.
"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."
you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."
"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.
"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.
your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.
･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･
nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.
she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.
he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.
"my love?" he calls out to her.
his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.
"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.
"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."
her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.
she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.
"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.
her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.
nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.
she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.
he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.
“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.
“and what tale are we reading tonight?”
she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”
nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.
“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”
“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.
nanami’s heart sinks.
that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.
“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.
her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.
nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”
she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.
“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”
“why was it bad?”
nanami sighs once again.
she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".
thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.
“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”
"shaken up?"
"scared, my love"
his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.
nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.
his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.
nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.
"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"
she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.
"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.
your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"
"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.
nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.
"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"
nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.
"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"
she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.
"I did?"
nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.
"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”
“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"
"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."
･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･
after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.
“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.
you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.
“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”
“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.
“shall I carry on?”
“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."
"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.
"I know so, papa!"
"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"
"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"
"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"
"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.
you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.
“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."
"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.
you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.
#[peach is away.💌]#[peach queues.🧡]#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x female reader#nanami x ofc#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento angst#nanami angst#nanami hurt/comfort#jujutsu kaisen angst#nanami fluff#jujutsu kaisen fan fiction#jjk fluff
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the great war - max verstappen
mercedes driver schumacher reader x max verstappen social media au (set from 2021 and beyond)
a/n: this was a ride lol and it took me forever but i liked my own idea and i hope its kinda good :) fc is sydney sweeney
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France, 2021.
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Austria, 2021
f1news
f1news: It seems that the Hamilton-Verstappen rivalry doesn't end with them, with the hostility between Y/N Schumacher and Max Verstappen amping up despite their childhood friendship. They are reportedly not on speaking terms after Verstappen's aggressive move on Schumacher to take the lead in the French Grand Prix that ended in her DNF. She is now reported to be on her Mercedes' side, hoping for her teammates eighth title, instead of her initial neutral stance.
ferrarilove: are we going through brocedes without them even fighting each other for the championship
leclercnorris: i can't believe a championship battle will take another pair of childhood best friends
sebvettelchamp: once again childhood best friends to platonic soulmates to enemies to strangers when will this end
hamiltonszn: as she should
hearteyesnorris: this season has more drama than i would've ever hoped for
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Great Britain, 2021
f1news:
f1news: Lewis Hamilton's teammate was not happy with his celebrations after the Silverstone Grand Prix, with Y/N Schumacher avoiding Mercedes' over the top win party even with her podium finish. She is very upset about it, considering Max Verstappen was in the hospital after the impact of the first-lap collision, where she was reportedly seen.
maxv33rstappen: At least someone has a moral backbone in that team.
scuderialewis: lmao she's such a double faced bitch
carlandofate: it's getting rowdy
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Belgium, 2021
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Italy, 2021
f1news
f1news: Max Verstappen and Y/N Schumacher arrive to the Monza paddock together, with a reconciliation evident after the Silverstone crash fiasco.
schumi33: WE WON
ynbabygirl: not a mercedes civil war brewing instead
f1news
f1news: In response to Y/N's statements about the Monza crash, Max said: "It was an unfortunate racing incident, not something I wanted to happen."
verstappensainz: they were JUST doing better i can't
checosakhir: what's worse the downfall of the mercedes power duo or the downfall of schumacherstappen
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Turkey, 2021
f1news
f1news: Turkey marks Y/N Schumacher's first win of the season. Max Verstappen congratulates her with a hug.
ricciardoheart: lewis' face at the hug was priceless
gaslyyyy: how about toto? lmfao
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United States, 2021
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Mexico, 2021
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Brazil, 2021
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Abu Dhabi, 2021
f1news
f1news: Y/N Schumacher on who she wishes will win the championship this weekend: "I'll be happy either way. So much has been made personal and it's not. When I realized that I was much happier and I have enjoyed the season and this titan battle more than ever. This isn't my battle, but they're both really good friends and I appreciate that too much to risk it. However, as Lewis' teammate I will do whatever I can to help."
y/nschumacher
y/nschumacher: It was a tough season with lots of mixed emotions. I'm so grateful for the team, and so proud of their Constructor's Championship. For now all I want to say is congratulations to lewishamilton for an incredible season; we will get you the eighth. And congratulations maxverstappen33! I have seen how hard you've worked for this dream, and now you're living it.
comments have been disabled
f1news
f1news: Y/N Schumacher seen at Max Verstappen's championship after party.
lewiswonder: oh she deserves a place in hell
formuladutch: orange army we move for her
schumacherstar: the death threats are gonna get so bad... jesus
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New Year's Eve, 2022
f1waggossip
f1waggossip: As if 2021 didn't have enough drama, we are starting off 2022 with a bang as Max and Y/N were spotted sharing a New Year's Eve kiss.
hamiltonteam44: no wonder the dumb bitch was so eager to see crashstappen win
lhfourtyfour: never beating the wh0re allegations!
schumacherprincess: so hateful and misogynistic. maybe listen to lewis' position on feminism once?
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2022
f1waggossip
f1waggossip: Despite being constantly asked about the nature of their relationship, Max Verstappen and Y/N Schumacher have refused to answer questions on the topic, focusing on the 2022 season as Red Bull and Mercedes struggle in the beginning of it. However, they are constantly seen outside of races, continuing to fuel rumors.
norrizzz: what do y'all want them to say lol they're probably fearing for their lives
schumachersiblings: for whatever its worth its cute lol
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2023
f1waggosip
f1waggossip: The secret everyone already knew is out. The Schumacherstappen relationship is confirmed with a very public kiss, after Max won his third world championship in Qatar.
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2024
y/nschumacher
y/nschumacher: Lewis, it has been the honor of a lifetime to race alongside you as your teammate. You have supported me from the moment you met me, raising me up when you rose up. Every part of me that is any good at racing has learnt it from you. I'm eternally grateful, and I wish you all the best in your new, red adventure. Don't ever forget your girl in black and green. Let's enjoy 2024!
lewishamilton: Love you, kid.
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2025
y/nschumacher
y/nschumacher: I vowed I would always be yours if we survived the great war. And then we became teammates four years later. I love you, Max. I can't wait to beat a four time world champion in equal machinery.
maxverstappen1: I love you. Always have.
#f1#f1 au#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#formula 1#max verstappen smau#max verstappen au#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#MAX VERSTAPPEN SOCIAL MEDIA AU
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Thinking about Culinary Wizard MC who basically the reverse of Solomon.
They emphatically do not know Devildom any cuisine in any way, but whenever they step into the kitchen they can throw whatever together and it all just works.
Levi says that they just cook on vibes alone. Half the time they don't even know what they're using. They'll sniff at things in the fridge, then pour a random sauce they find onto their dish that miraculously makes it delicious.
Any demon watching them would have a heart attack after seeing them pour what could be the Devildom equivalent of marshmallow fluff on a sirloin, but it somehow, it turns into a 5-star meal once they're done. It should never work as well as it does.
Solomon can even join them in the kitchen because their good cooking is so powerful it cancels out his bad cooking.
Barbatos wants to study them in a lab. He's brought them to the Castle numerous times and each ends in frustration...
~~~~~~~~~
MC: *stirring a pot on one of the several stove-tops in the Castle*
MC: Okay, Barbs. Hand me that purple thing!
Barbatos: *trying not to die inside as he has already watched them drop 3 random fruits and 12 roots into whatever concoction they have cooking up*
Barbatos: MC, are you sure this... dish would benefit from fresh midnightroot? It's so savory that it might-
MC: Barbs.
MC: What did I tell you? When I'm in the kitchen...
Barbatos: ... We must trust the process...
MC: Exactly. Now that purple thing, please.
*One increasingly concerning cooking demonstration later*
MC: *sniffs at the pot and nods approvingly before handing Barbatos a spoon to taste*
MC: Done!
Barbatos: *looks at the pot warily but dips the spoon into the, now purple, creation that has about the consistency of a pie filling*
Barbatos: *tastes the spoon*
Barbatos: ......
Barbatos: *holds his head in his hands, awash with frustration and defeat*
Barbatos: It's... delectable....
They cannot keep getting away with this...
#feeling silly#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me barbatos#obey me solomon#obey me leviathan#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#obey me nightbringer#omnb#obey me incorrect quotes
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The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”
Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”
The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner.
“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”
“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”
Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?
He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?”
“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”
“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt.
He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”
“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”
“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip.
“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”
Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”
“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”
“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”
“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”
“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.”
“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel.
There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—
“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”
“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know.
He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.
(ETA: small continuation here!)
#dashed off 90% of this a little while ago based on a post that I now cannot find; I’ve been traveling and finished it up on a train this AM#but yes this is literally the same general premise as bonitabreezy's I Like to See You in the Morning Light#pls go read that instead#I know I’ve lied about this before but I’m really not planning to continue this at all! it is just a silly little thing!#also IANAL but afaik IN decrim’d sodomy in ‘76; 15 to life was the max sentence in MI for first-time & repeat offenders respectively iirc#steddie
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