#optimistic but apprehensive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foreingersgod · 5 months

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omg I saw you wrote for pb and I was wondering your take on her comforting a reader who struggles with mental health or anxiety? Tysmia && I love your work !! ❤️🤗

for any of you struggling out there, i’m here with you! if you ever need, my inbox is always open :)

Anxious . PB

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

synopsis: you’ve struggled with anxiety your entire life, but you never told anyone, including paige. during one of your bad anxiety attacks, she finally finds out.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

since you were young, about starting middle school, anxiety controlled the entirety of your life. every decision, every breathe, every moment, anxiety was driving you. it was so suffocating that you fell behind the other kids. you didn’t play sports or join clubs, nor did you hang out with friends because you feared the worst. those voices in your head, that twisted feeling in your gut made life almost unlivable.

when you graduated high school and moved away for college, the anxiety lessened. you think in some ways college helped you find yourself and for a little bit, you were living freely.

in that time, you met your girlfriend paige. you had met her through one of your mutual friends at her birthday party. paige had spotted you from across the room, completely captivated by you. you were beautiful, had the most adorable laugh, and had the most unique style she had seen. she couldn’t help but ask for your number.

the rest was history. you and paige hit it off immediately and became inseparable. when you were with paige, you felt amazing. anxiety was the last thing on your mind. talking to people became easier, leaving your house was no longer scary, life was good. your days of anxiety and panic attacks were well behind you.

but about a year into your relationship, things started to fall apart again. that particular year, you were facing a lot of hardships and it was hard to manage it all. your mother was rushed to the hospital for a minor respiratory problem, she was recovering well, but the financial burden fell to you. school was beginning to pile up as well, it felt like you were drowning in school work. things at your job had been getting worse too, you were understaffed (and underpaid) and practically running the whole place. and on top of that, it was paige’s last year at uconn and she was so stressed about the upcoming season, and you were finding it hard to balance being her support system and the rest of your life.

it was hard.

when things started to go down hill, you felt that familiar feeling creep its way back into your mind. you found that your heart was pounding more and more when you left your cozy apartment, that your thoughts weren’t your own, and that you were always worried about the future. you couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function properly at all. but you stayed optimistic, thinking that this would run its course. because you were getting better, right?

you kept all of this from paige. you were worried that she would worry and you didn’t want to make things worse. after all, you had never even told paige about your struggles with anxiety and mental health in the past and you wanted to keep it that way.

on one saturday night in june, one of paige’s teammates hosted a small get together at a quaint little restaurant with the team and their partners. everyone was stoked to see one another and catch up. normally, you would have loved this sort of thing. you used to love those types of settings, but now you were struggling to act excited about it. when paige had told you about the invite, you immediately became apprehensive.

“you excited?” she asked, telling you the details of the event “it’ll be fun”

“stoked” you managed to croak out.

when 6:00 pm rolled around, you were dressed and ready to go. paige was downstairs, keys in hand, awaiting your arrival, but you remained in the bathroom. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to talk yourself down from a panic attack.

you can do this, YN, it’s gonna be ok you told yourself.

“YN!” you heard paige holler from the bottom of the stairs “we’re gonna be late, babe! are you ready?”

touching up your hair and fanning the tears out of your eyes, you rushed out of the bathroom. paige greeted you by the front door with a kiss, hands finding the small of your back and leading you out to her car.

the drive was dreadful. all you could think about was going home, thinking that something was going to go wrong and ruin your night. it had you discretely biting your nails as you looked out the car window. paige, oblivious to your agitated state, was telling you about the restaurant the get together was held at and how she was exited for you to try it. you nodded along, trying to keep yourself distracted.

after a painfully long drive to your destination, you were being escorted to the table where your party sat. you were met with toothy smiles and cheerful greetings from paige’s teammates as you arrived. paige pulled out your chair for you and sat down next to you while conversing with a few of the girls.

you were doing fine at first, only sparking up conversation with a few girls to keep your anxiety at bay. you were managing. even when the waiters began taking orders, you got through it no problem. laughter filled your small corner of the restaurant as everyone joked and talked with each other, there was absolutely nothing to be worried about.

20 minutes passed, discussion was still alive and you were getting through the night like a champ.

until the food was brought out.

the second that plate was sat in front of you, you felt the pace of your heart pick up. you didn’t know what was going on, but for some reason, the thought of eating your food in front of all of these people set you off. you hadn’t had a history of this, normally you didn’t mind eating in public. you assumed it must of been the stress of keeping food down. you stared at the steaming meal in front of you like it was some sort of extraneous creature. just the thought of lifting up the fork had you spiraling about every possible thing that could go wrong.

what if you threw up?

what if the food was raw?

what if everyone saw the way that you were eating? they’ll probably think you look funny.

your eyes welled up at the thought of it all, your head hung low to hide your dampened mood. your legs were bouncing uncontrollably to try and balance your nerves, body practically shaking from fear.

as you attempted to reserve yourself, praying no one would notice. you felt paige’s hand rest itself onto your knee, gripping it gently to halt your bouncing. she tapped the inside of your thigh, leaning in and whispering into your ear.

“hey, what’s the matter baby?” she muttered just enough for you to hear “you’re shaking”

you bit your lip harshly. fuck

you shook your head. it was all you could muster, couldn’t find the ability in your throat to produce any words. the urge to cry out for help gnawed at your chest.

before paige could question any further, you abruptly stood out of you chair. the wooden legs scraping against the black and white tile of the floor. as your back turned, rushing to the bathroom for any sort of isolation, you felt eyes burning in the back of your head. you heard paige call out for you faintly, but it was no use, you couldn’t sit at that table a moment longer.

the bathroom felt miles away as scurried past other tables. tears were streaming down your cheeks, most definitely taking your mascara with it. finally reaching the single occupant bathroom, you shut the door and locked it behind you. you were careless of the germs as you sunk to the bathroom floor in despair. knees hugged close to your chest and head buried into your arms. sobs racked your body and trepidation coursed through your veins. you were losing control of yourself.

out of the blue a knock sounded at the bathroom door. assuming it was another diner of the restaurant, you ignored it hoping they would move along. then you heard her.

“YN, are you in there? are you ok, what the hell is going on?” paige’s voice rang through the door.

“i’m fine” you hiccuped “i’ll be out in a second, i just need to pee is all”

“don’t lie to me” she said “you were shaking and sobbing when you left the table, the hell you just have to pee”

you continued to cry, loud enough for paige to hear.

“baby, please, what can i do? what’s going on, i want to help” she pleaded.

past all the pain your mind was putting you through, you yearned for paige. she made you feel so safe, the whole reason you were able to battle your anxiety in the first place. you didn’t want to rope her into this, but it was far past keeping it a secret now.

with hands still trembling, you unlocked the door and let her in. without wasting a second, she was at your side, locking the door behind her. her arms wrapped around you protectively, rubbing your back to comfort you as you fell to the floor again. she sat with you as you crawled into her. your head tucked into her chest as you cried, tears soaking into her shirt, fingers clinging to the fabric. paige tried to move the hair out of your face to get a better look at you.

“you’re scaring me, YN” a worried expression washed across her face “what can i do? who do i have to fight, huh?”

she tried to cheer you up, accepting defeat once you cried harder.

“i-i don’t-” you were struggling to speak still “i don’t even know where to start paige!”

she pulled you closer to her chest “just try baby, take your time. i’m right here with you, we’ve got all the time in the world ok. just get it all out, you’re safe”

and that was all it took for you to completely break down if front of your girlfriend. every detail from the last few days, from your past, everything about your anxiety came spilling out.

“before i met you, i had chronic anxiety. like so bad i could barely leave the house. then i moved away for school and it got better, and when i met you it pretty much went away. but you know with my mom? and school and work and now you’re in your last season with your team? it’s just been getting to me and the anxiety has started to get worse again. i can’t eat or sleep right and i feel like i’ve been losing my fucking mind, paige”

she was such an amazing listener, sitting there on the dirty bathroom floor as her girlfriend bawled into her shoulder. the whole time her eyes were glued to you, gentle fingers carefully wiping your tears away.

“why didn’t you tell me all of this? tell me about the eating and the sleeping? YN, it makes me sick imagining you going through all this alone”

“because i didn’t want you to worry and i was too embarrassed to say anything”

“well i’m worried now” she said “and embarrassed? baby…”

“i know, it’s silly, but i was just scared you’d think of me less if you knew what a mess i am when i get anxiety like this”

“i could never think less of you. ever. please know that”

“but i-”

“no, listen” she interrupted “just because you struggle with your mental health or have a hard time dealing with your anxiety doesn’t mean i’ll think anything less of you. you’re my whole world. this life and in the next, you’re my entire soul. i want nothing more than to be here for you and to help you overcome things like this. if anything, it only proves to me how strong you are and how i’m so lucky to have a girl who’s able to get through all this”

you sniffled, tears stopping as she continued “i love you, more than you know. and i’m sorry you felt like you needed to do this on your own”

you really had the best girlfriend out there. someone who loves you even through your own insecurities.

“i love you so much” you kissed her with your lips salty from the tears “thank you for being here, i don’t know what i’d do without you”

“get through all this just the same because that’s how strong you are. i’m just here to help in anyway you need” paige leaned in for another kiss, this time deeper, strong hands cradling your jaw “how about i go tell the team you’re not feeling well and we’ll go back home, eat some ice cream and watch anything you want?”

you nodded, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm “even new girl?”

“yea baby, even new girl”

moments later, you were back in the comfort of your home. snuggled in bed next to paige, bowls of ice cream on your lap, the tv buzzing in the background.

you could finally breathe again, you just needed your girl.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wcbb #wcbb x reader #uconn wbb #wlw #wlw imagine

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cuubism · 7 months

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more physical therapy au

Dream comes to his next physical therapy appointment marginally--marginally--less apprehensive than before. When he'd first gone, he'd expected to be told he was being melodramatic. That he should just be grateful that the surgery was successful and he has some functioning. That he should just give up on his art, that it didn't matter, that it was hopeless.

He doesn't know why he thought that. It's been hard to have a charitable view of people, lately.

But Hob wasn't like what he feared. Hob was... kind. To him.

So he goes back.

He has, in fact, been doing the exercises that Hob gave him. It is not as though he has much else to do with his time. Other than setting up his new flat, where he now lives after fleeing what had once been his home. Even a few months later, the place is fairly... minimalist. Which is not Dream's style. But he'd left with little more than his art portfolio and the clothes he was wearing, deciding that it wasn't worth going back, and he hasn't had the energy to replace anything since.

Or the two functioning arms required to move things.

His flat is depressing enough that even the physical therapy office feels warm and welcoming by comparison. Hob gives him a big smile as he comes in. It's pathetic that it makes his heart flutter.

He goes over to Hob, setting the folder he brought on the table.

"You look cheerful," Hob notes. Dream highly, highly doubts that. But he is perhaps slightly less morose than last time. Nevertheless, he finds Hob's optimism... somewhat cheering. Normally, he would find such a thing annoying. But there is something very steady and reassuring about Hob. Not much in Dream's life has felt steady in some time.

"I have tried finger painting," Dream tells him. He takes the piece out of the folder and shows it to Hob.

It had been interesting, at least. Distracted him for a moment. Made him think about the way children make art, before becoming mired in theory and technique.

He had considered bringing one of his usual pieces to demonstrate to Hob what he's meant to be able to do, in case that would be helpful, but it's still painful to look at them.

Hob takes the painting and stares at it with wide eyes. "How is this actually good?"

Dream should probably be offended by his incredulity but instead he just finds it amusing. "I had lots of time to spend."

He has, once again, painted a bunch of cats, all different colors, cluttering the page. It's simple, and lets him avoid thinking about his more conceptual pieces he hasn't been able to work on.

"Wow," Hob says, propping the painting carefully against the wall by his computer. "Okay. Good work going above and beyond on the instructions, Dream."

That praise alone shouldn't make something in his chest start glowing. But it does.

"It did not hurt... much," he says tentatively, before Hob can ask. "However, with a brush..."

It is incredibly frustrating. It's like his body continually wishes to betray him. He's lost his home and everything he owns and now he cannot even have his art.

"Give it some time," Hob says, reasonably. He is much more patient, and optimistic, than Dream.

He makes Dream draw and write again. It's... perhaps marginally easier after the exercises Hob had given him. Still, he finds himself getting frustrated by the weakness of his grip. And the more frustrated he gets, the tighter he grips the pencil. He knows he shouldn't. But.

"Lighter," Hob tells him, and Dream glares at him. Hob raises his hands. "Not telling you how to do your art. Just telling you how not to hurt your hand."

Dream bites down on his annoyance, but loosens his grip.

He doesn't see very much progress, but Hob seems satisfied. He makes Dream run through some other strengthening exercises, which... don't hurt as much as Dream was expecting them to. He'd expected that this whole process would be nothing but gritting his teeth through agonizing pain, to minimal results. Perhaps Death is right, and he should be less pessimistic.

In any case, Hob seems proud of him at the end. Even if Dream doesn't think he's done anything to be proud of.

But he does leave, perhaps, slightly more hopeful than he entered. And he wants to come back. At least to see Hob again.

Hob doesn't know if it's patronizing to be proud of Dream, but he is. Over the last few sessions, his grip has improved a lot. Dream doesn't seem to see it, but that's alright. Hob does. He's been keeping all of Dream's drawings. They are getting better.

Hob is pretty good at optimism. But even so, it somehow hadn't occurred to him that quiet and morose wasn't Dream's natural state. That is until he sees the joy that lights up in him the first time he's able to draw a cat without his hand shaking. Dream smiles so wide, like he isn't even aware Hob is still watching him, and Hob realizes that there is lightness to him. It's just been buried down.

The time after that, Dream even brings some of his old art to show. Hob's been dying to see it for ages, but hasn't pressed. And Dream's art is gorgeous. Hob can understand, now, why he'd been dissatisfied with those first cats he'd drawn, no matter how charming Hob had found them. His big pieces are so finely detailed, so precise. It's... possibly going to take a bit more time to get him back to that than Hob had thought. But he's determined.

But Dream seems happy to be sharing his art, doesn't fold in on himself this time just to mention it. He talks with enthusiasm about his process, the most words Hob's heard him say in... well, ever. Hob tells him that he's made enough progress to pick up painting--with brush, not fingers--again if he wants, but not to beat himself up if it doesn't look the same as his old ones. And for once, it seems like Dream actually accepts the instruction not to berate himself.

All of this is, most certainly, the reason Hob does the insane thing he does next.

He's organizing his records, having already walked Dream out, when he hears raised voices from out on the walkway. The front door is still open a crack, he realizes, so the sound carries.

"Come on, you're overreacting," says an unfamiliar, male voice. "I said I won't do it again, didn't I?"

"Do not," Dream replies, voice anxious, but determined, "follow me."

"Well if you'd just pick up your phone--"

Hob steps outside. An unfamiliar man--the ex-boyfriend, Hob assumes, he doesn't know his name, hasn't asked, doesn't care--has Dream cornered in the doorway. His posture doesn't immediately scream rage or aggression, which is more unnerving rather than less, considering this is the same person who'd snapped and broken Dream's hand.

And Dream looks scared. Under the mask of stoicism he likes to wear. Any cheer or hope he'd gained from today's session has evaporated, and he looks like he did before, when he'd first come to Hob's office, curled in on himself. It breaks Hob's heart. And makes him angry.

"Stop being selfish and just--" the ex-boyfriend continues. Hob means to cut in and diffuse the situation. Tell him to leave in a reasonably professional manner.

Instead he punches him in the face.

Ex-boyfriend's nose goes crunch in an extremely satisfying way, and he reels back with a shriek, hands going to his face. Dream startles back, hands clutched around his art portfolio.

"What the FUCK!" yells ex-boyfriend, voice nasally from the blood running down his face. "You can't just-- this is assault! I'll call the cops!"

Oh he wants to go there, does he? "You wanna talk about assault?" Hob says, voice rising in volume. Dream edges behind him, though Hob's not sure he's fully aware he's doing so. "You want to get police involved, that's really what you want?"

Ex-boyfriend looks from Hob to Dream and back, hesitating. That's fucking right, Hob thinks. Not so easy to kick someone around when there's consequences, huh?

It helps that Hob is visibly stronger than Dream, and spends all day physically moving people around. If ex-boyfriend tries anything he's going to get put on the ground.

Finally he retreats, though with a look of rage towards Hob. Once he's gone, Dream finally seems to relax, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

"You did not need to," he murmurs.

Hob shakes his head. "No one gets to come and threaten you here. Particularly not that dickhead."

Dream huffs a small laugh. Then he picks up Hob's hand, studying it. Hob winces. It's certainly going to bruise.

"Now you will need physical therapy," Dream says, lips twitching. Hob's glad for the humor in his voice.

Hob laughs. "Worth it."

"No one has..." Dream starts, slowly, "done something like that. For me."

It hurts, to think that no one's stood up for him. Or even let him know that someone should stand up for him.

"If he comes back I'll do it again," Hob says, and gets a tentative smile from Dream.

Then asks, "Does he know where you live?"

Dream frowns. "I do not think so."

"Want me to walk you home?"

He doubts Dream's ex-boyfriend will come back to the office now that he knows Hob's willing to deck him, but that doesn't mean he won't try to corner Dream elsewhere.

Dream deliberates, then says, "Would you?"

"'Course, love. Just let me lock the place up."

He doesn't realize what he's said until he's already turned back to lock the door. Shit. Today has already gone so far beyond what he's supposed to do as Dream's physical therapist, and now...

In the end, Dream doesn't call him out on it. But he does stick close to Hob's side as they walk, and occasionally when Hob looks over at him, he catches a tiny smile on his face.

#this is so sappy oh my god #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #cw abuse #physical therapy fic #long post

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anim-ttrpgs · 1 month

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Eureka Rules Breakdown! Episode 1 of an Actual Play of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy by the Tiny Table Podcast!

Episode 1 is out now, and you can listen to it right here!

This is the first ever Actual Play of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, so we’re super excited, especially since Tiny Table really puts the “Actual” in “Actual Play.” They may edit out a stutter or bad mic read here and there, but you won’t find any prescripting of character arcs or setpiece events, just them, the rulebook, and the module.

This first episode is only about 15 minutes or so and introduces you to a brief rundown of Eureka’s rules and concepts. If you have been wondering what all the fuss is about with Eureka, but don’t feel like you have the time to download the free beta version and give it a read, then this fifteen-minute rules breakdown might be a great place to start!

The next episode, releasing on Tuesday, August 20th, will be the start of the actual Actual Play. Stay tuned for the Tiny Table crew to tackle FORIVA: The Angel Game, an adventure module for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy.

FORIVA: The Angel Game is a 1990's investigation that sinks deep into a pit of dread and intrigue as the investigators step forward into a bizarre psychological horror mystery - one which may leave them unable to recognize themselves on the other side. To seek out the truth, an investigator must use all their wits and all the resources at their disposal - but only they know if they are ready to fall into the unthinkable rabbit hole that awaits. Stranger and stranger the story shall grow - and stranger still, what will grow in those who follow it.

Somewhere, a mother stares wordlessly at her hospitalized son who doesn’t recognize her, and wonders why this is happening to her family. Somewhere, a private detective smiles as his client offers a generous reward for someone–anyone–to blame for what was done to his children. Somewhere, a young girl tears down the advertisements that were covering up the missing poster of her friend.

The year is 1999, and society is equal parts optimistic and apprehensive about the new millennium. Fears of the Y2K bug are circulating, Bill Clinton is still in office, and the popularity of video arcades is on the decline.

A rash of hospitalizations and disappearances has struck in Shreveport, Louisiana, with all of the victims so far being teenagers and children. Each case might at first seem unconnected, save for their close proximity in time to one another sending ripples throughout the community. Local news has been covering the story for days now, capitalizing on the fear and uncertainty of concerned parents, something that might seem like a distant problem to each investigator, until it strikes someone they know….

Having already listened to the whole thing ourselves, we can assure you that listeners who stick with it are in for a real great time! Episodes will be coming out each Tuesday, ending with a post-adventure discussion, and then an interview between the Tiny Table team and the A.N.I.M. team!

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but you can still check out the public beta on itch.io to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, etc.!

You can also follow updates on our Kickstarter page where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more, you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy earlier, plus extra content such as adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

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starryevermore · 5 months

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i will go to secret gardens in my mind ✧ tamlin

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

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

PART TWO

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.

PART TWO

#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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timmyrx2000 · 1 year

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TEAMWORK Mabel and Pacifica Style!

Mabel and Pacifica proudly display their collaboration on the team's official Baseball Uniform Design. Art by @turquoisespace35

It's part of an AU where, during their free time, Dipper, Mabel, Pacifica, and Wendy form a baseball team to try and get Dipper and Pacifica out of their shells. Wendy and Mabel try to boost Dipper's confidence by getting him to give playing baseball a shot and Pacifica, now part of the gang, comes along for the ride.

Among the entire group, Mabel and Pacifica have the most history, with their start being...rocky at best. While Pacifica and Mabel are now together on their tiny Baseball Team with Wendy and Dipper, Pacifica still feels quite anxious around Mabel knowing how she's treated Mabel in the past. What surprises her though is how easily Mabel seems to have gotten over those times and just seems to enjoy having her as a new friend. Pacifica's not used to Mabel's optimistic and upbeat attitude on life, especially growing up with rich, snobbish, stuck-up family and friends where you just didn't let things slide, but you made sure you won at all costs.

Mabel, on the other hand, loves having Pacifica as a new friend but still feels she's still quite distant and apprehensive getting close to her. Mabel's always makes an effort to have a bit of fun with Pacifica but almost always, Pacifica responds rather awkwardly. Mabel knows its not about Pacifica not wanting to be friends, but she knows she's gotta break her out of her shell cause she knows there's a Pacifica in there that just wants to break-free and enjoy life to her fullest.

When Wendy pitches the idea of finally formalize the Baseball team into a real ream, complete with recruiting 9 Players, she says they'll need an official Baseball Team Uniform and what better people to come up with it than the queens of style and creativity right in the team: Pacifica and Mabel!

Both girls are excited at the prospect of making the official team uniform but they do have some doubts on if it can or will work. Mabel and Pacifica have 2 very different ideas of style and creativity. Pacifica, in particular, is even more nervous that if this ends in disaster, she may lose the only real friend her age she would have had. Mabel, however, dives right into the opportunity seeing it as the chance to finally hangout and get to know Pacifica more. But can opposites work together?

As they pitch ideas back and forth both Pacifica and Mabel gain more insight into each other's personality. They begin opening up to each other slowly but surely. Pacifica begins to admire Mabel's spice for life, her creativity, and her boldness in imagination. She admires how Mabel is so unapologetic for who she is and no matter how bad things get, Mabel still manages to find the bright side of life. Mabel, on the other hand, begins to admire Pacifica's fierce and strong personality and how she's unafraid to speak her mind. She sees in Pacifica someone who is brave enough to stand up for herself against anyone who'd try to put her down, and she sees in her someone who is unwilling to go back to the life she had living as a slave to her dad's bell.

Their new found respect and admiration for each other proves to be a great asset in their collaboration. They're not competing, but they complement each other. They form the perfect duo for the job, with Mabel inspiring Pacifica to be more ambitious and daring in her choices while Pacifica helps keep Mabel grounded and realistic. It culminates with the pair proudly presenting their work to Wendy and Dipper who are thoroughly impressed and proud of their new Team Uniform.

But it doesn't just stop there! Mabel and Pacifica both prove to be a force to be reckoned with on the field, both partnering up during the games to help out in forming strategies and executing plays. When times get tough, they have each other to lean on, no matter how difficult and complicated things get. Pacifica couldn't ask for a better friend than Mabel, and neither could Mabel ask for a better friend than Pacifica.

#baseball #gravity falls #gf #mabel pines #baseball player #baseball uniform #mabel #pacifica northwest #pacifica #sporty #sports #baseball au #athlete #athletic #baseball players #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fanart

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diejager · 6 months

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Cw DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, dark cbf!Johnny, smut, manipulation, kissing, groping, teasing, tell me if I missed any. Since tumblr removed this post a few minutes ago, I’m reporting it! I’m not sure if it was removed because someone reported it or the AI found it or smt, but I always have a back up :)

Your mother had always cooed at how close you were with Johnny, an unbroken and loyal friendship that she hoped would keep even when you grew older, changing schools and moving to find work. She thought it an innocent thing, adorable and cherishable in every sense knowing that Johnny was a strong and aspiring man, he would be able to protect you and help you in your time of need. And he did, Johnny was glued to you by the hip, following you everywhere you went and stared at you with devoted and desperate eyes. You could trust Johnny with everything, even your deepest and darkest secrets.

When you confessed to Johnny that you watched your friends kiss, the naked love in their eyes shining through, and felt a slight twinge of curiosity and envy in your heart, he showed you how it felt to kiss with love. Johnny hid you in his room, fingers curled around your hair and pulling you forwards, his lips warm and soft against yours. He kissed you with intent, a hot and churning love that had you whimpering and clinging onto him, melting in his arms while he moved your lips to his beat. It took your breath away, instilling a burning fire in your heart, the young embers of a bonfire that would light up your heart with a booming throb. Despite you gasps and shortness of breath, you sought Johnny for a second and a third kiss, leaning towards him with pouted lips.

You were only 13 when you gave your first kiss to the perfectly plumps lips of your best friend.

When you caught boys groping their girlfriends in public areas, unabashed about their affection being perceived as lewd or inappropriate for the public, and gossiped with Johnny about how weird it was to grope someone - even a lover - in public was and that it should be kept indoors, especially when one would moan or yelp, Johnny explained it to you with his body. You were left in your house’s living room, parents off to work and leaving you two alone at home, he groped you, his rougher fingers kneading your pubescent body. Johnny squeezed the curve of your hips, trailing down your plush thighs and up your ass until you gasped in shock before it turned into mewls, little, breathy sounds that encouraged Johnny to do more. He slid his hand beneath your shirt and pinched your perked nipples, rolling your little nubs between his thumb and index while you arched, writhing so much that Johnny had to straddle you to keep you from moving too much.

You were only shy of 15 when you felt the first dribble of slick down your ass from your childhood best friend’s hands.

When you shared to Johnny all the stories of your friends losing their virginity - the V-card, they called it, as if it were something worth losing or giving without much though - and all the brutish and callous ways they spoke of it, you edged on shock and apprehension about such a thing, Johnny promised he would show you how important it was to give it to someone worth your time and heart —him.

“Ye trust me, dinnae ye,” he whispered your name so reverently, his breath tickling your nape as he pressed himself into you.

You do, your trust Johnny with your whole life, but you were still unsure about it. You were nervous with how optimistic Johnny was about taking your virginity as much as he was to give you his, and yet, despite your fears, you still gave yourself to him because he was your trusted, childhood best friend. Johnny fucked you amaturish but devoted snaps of his hips, rocking into you until you cried out his name whenever he bumped into something gummy and sensitive inside of you. You bled, but the pain never persisted, it was quickly swallowed by pleasure, waves of drowning ecstasy that numbed your mind and wracked your body with tremors. You saw the appeal in losing your virginity, to succumb to the pleasure of sex and give yourself to someone you truly loved and trusted.

You were only 17 when you felt the uncut and hard cock of your childhood best friend.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @rainbowsabre @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x reader smut #Dark childhood best friend!Johnny #cbf!soap #tw: dark content #dark content #dead dove do not eat #tw: dub con #tw: non con #tw: manipulation

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strawberrymilk-sunshine · 1 month

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Watching u <3

I've been working on this for a while. Off and on since late June. Believe it or not, I have actually been having ideas throughout my entire hiatus, it was just a case of not being able to really write anything down...

This is probably darker than some of my other stuff, I just feel like I should say. Please do not read this if you're uncomfortable with this. Thank you, and have a good day/afternooon/night.

Warning(s): yandere behaviors, explicitly fem reader, death, some sexist stuff (it's not as bad as it probably could be but it's there), incel Idia I know he isn't in canon please don't be mad at me for making him one in this fic, delusional yandere Idia, non consentual kiss, blood hemorrhage mention, unwanted comments about reader's body, implied past trauma, doxxing, breaking and entering

It was a long day of boring classes for Idia. Today was one of those days he was forced to actually attend class in person... ew. He hated it, being around people for that long. But he had a test today, and apparently the professor didn't trust him enough to do it remotely from his dorm room.

Luckily though, Idia had something to look forward to. At the end of the day, when he gets back to his dorm room, almost exactly... something he looks forward to all week will finally start.

What is this thing he is so looking forward to?

Well, what other than your weekly livestream, of course!

He loved everything about you.

He knew everything there was to know about you. He even knew your name, despite you hiding your identity behind a fictitious catgirl persona~

(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N). He loved that name of yours. It felt like honey in his mouth as the words spilled out of him... calling you by your real name without you knowing~

Idia considered you a friend- no, even MORE. He wasn't friends with you, no no no no no! You were his lovely little girlfriend! Cute and submissive and everything... ohhh, he loved you so much. Hearing your voice... listening to you... answering you like you were right next to him... donating to you every time you streamed, copious amounts of money... participating in chat every now and again, to have an actual dialogue with you... he didn't like talking with other people, oh, but he ALWAYS made an exception for you.

You two have even started chatting outside just your streams. He's a mod for your streams now, as well as on your personal server... you were a bit apprehensive about that at first, but don't worry, he convinced you!

One time, you confided in him about some... serious issues you went through irl. It was so cute, imagining you in that situation.

Oh, you've been through so much together... you're practically dating at this point! Oh... but maybe he should actually ask you, just to make sure you know you're dating him. Just in case. Just in case.

Idia happily logged onto your stream, anxious to watch you... and to pop the question later~

But as he logged on... he... he heard you... say... something...

"Sorry I wasn't able to stream last week... something came up in my real life!" He saw your semi-3d avatar smile, responding to your real expression, no doubt. "I know it sounds crazy, but somehow... I'm dating someone!"

At first, Idia decided to optimistically think about how, maybe you're referring to him... but, as the pre-stream chitchat continued... it became obvious you weren't.

...

HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM?!

In a fit of anger, Idia unsubscribed and blocked you on absolutely everything.

...but then, he thought of something. A nice plan... one that would hopefully make you dependent on him... you'd dump whatever loser you're dating right now... and he would be your only source of comfort.

He unblocked your accounts on his main... and then, he logged onto an alternate account, one that doesn't connect back to him in any way; sorta like what you tried to do with your stream persona, but actually unconnected, unlike yours.

He sent you a message from his sock puppet...

Your stream ended for the day, and... you were confused to see a message from an account you didn't recognize. You thought that maybe it was just a fan deciding to message you, as you get that a lot, but once you accepted the message request to see what they sent...

[xNDRWRLDx] : this u?

...you saw... a picture of yourself... one a family member of yours posted a few years ago... you tried your best to make sure that your online persona didn't connect back to your real life at all, so... how... how did this person get this picture?!

As terrified as you were, you chose to ignore this message. About an hour later, you received another.

Despite your thoughts, screaming at you to not give this person the time of day... that last message just set you off. You decided to respond.

[xNDRWRLDx] : ignoring ppl is rude

[xNDRWRLDx] : u know that, right?

[xNDRWRLDx] : or is ur thick skull not able to comprehend that

[xNDRWRLDx] : lmao yeah, thats prob the case

[xNDRWRLDx] : u could get a much higher paying job if u quit streaming & decided 2 use ur tits & ass 2 ur advantage

[xNDRWRLDx] : getting railed all day would b easier than streaming. u wouldnt have 2 pretend u have a personality beyond "uwu im a girl who plays video games arent i cute??"

You suddenly saw a string of numbers appear on your screen in the next message from this person. Is that your IP?!

[n3k0-ebi] : who tf are you??

[xNDRWRLDx] : o right, u said smth abt not being comfortable w/ talking abt stuff like that

[xNDRWRLDx] : lmfao weak much??? cant even take a joke

[xNDRWRLDx] : wat a pathetic excuse of a human

[n3k0-ebi] : whats your angle dude

[n3k0-ebi] : are you just trying to make me mad on purpose? it wont work, so just leave me alone.

What could this person know? Just what you look like in real life?? As much as you don't want people to know, it... it isn't that bad. You're not going to pose like that. You're not even going to give this person the time of day anymore.

[xNDRWRLDx] : look familiar?

[xNDRWRLDx] : just saying u would look adorable laying under me w/ ur mouth agape & drooling w/ ur eyes half shut <3

[xNDRWRLDx] : maybe if u send me a pic of u looking like that i might consider not sharing wat i know w/ ur entire audience

[xNDRWRLDx] : ur choice bitch

You log off for the night, not giving any more thought to this person's likely hollow threats.

The next day, you woke up, not realizing what happened over night.

You took a nice, relaxing, early morning shower...

Strangely enough, as you left your washroom, you could have sworn you'd seen a strange, blue light outside your hallway window. Probably just your eyes playing tricks on you... or light reflecting off something...

You make your way to your living room, and sit yourself down on the couch, comfy in your bathrobe and hair towel. You turn on the tv so you can half watch whatever comes on, and focus the rest of your attention on browsing Magicam.

...

...that's a lot of notifications.

You decide to look through your mentions first, and... you see a post from that account that was messaging you last night. It details your full legal name, your address, your partner's name, your parent's names, your homeland, every personal detail you could think of was listed in this post.

In a sudden moment of not thinking, you decide to message them.

They... they just sent you... a picture of you coming out of your shower... and then another, of you sitting here on the couch-?!

[n3k0-ebi] : what the hell is wrong with you?!

[n3k0-ebi] : you fucking doxxed me?!

[xNDRWRLDx] : i told u it was ur choice didnt i

[xNDRWRLDx] : u chose 2 not send me that pic i wanted

[xNDRWRLDx] : so really its ur own fault <3

You look out your living room window... but you don't see anybody.

[xNDRWRLDx] : ur not responding?

[xNDRWRLDx] : rude

[xNDRWRLDx] : little missy cant think of anything to say huh

[xNDRWRLDx] : idk wat i expected lmfao

[xNDRWRLDx] : typical 4 a female pretending 2 know stuff cant even hide ur identity properly

[xNDRWRLDx] : wat an idiotttt

The next month is a chaotic one.

Being stalked by so-called "fans"... yourself and your family members being sent weird letters and death threats... your regular workplace firing you... your family and friends cutting ties with you... your partner breaking up with you...

...why did this all have to happen...?

Is this your fault...? Maybe if you had just sent that picture... no, no don't even think about it. That person probably would have done this to you anyways...

...oh...

Oh, you... you have a notification. Since what happened last night, you haven't checked any of your notifications, but... this one... it's from someone you trust...

Idia was absolutely enraged. He could barely even believe what just happened. You have nothing. He is the only person in the world offering you comfort and support, and you just... YOU JUST WRITE HIM OFF LIKE HE'S NOTHING?!

[Gloomurai_] : hey, is everything OK w/ you?

[Gloomurai_] : i just saw you havent rlly been online since what happened

[Gloomurai_] : not that i blame you obv

[n3k0-ebi] : hi gloomy

[n3k0-ebi] : things haven't been great... lol.

[Gloomurai_] : i heard youre single again btw

[Gloomurai_] : that must suck

[Gloomurai_] : i hope this doesnt sound too forward but uh

[Gloomurai_] : is there anything i could do to help?

[n3k0-ebi] : definitely not, but thx for offering

[n3k0-ebi] : it's enough to just know you're there :)

...but, all of a sudden, the anger leaves him. Everything leaves him. All rational thought is gone from his head... and he smiles.

"Ortho... tell the vice leader he'll be in charge of Ignihyde for a while."

"What-? Big brother, why would you-"

"I need to go home for a bit." Idia closes the chat log, and stands up from his chair. "I won't be gone long. I just need to... make a copy of a file on my pc back home and bring it back here. That's all."

Ortho didn't entirely believe his brother...

...it's raining.

It's dark, stormy, the dead of night...

And most importantly, you're alone.

You used to like being alone. Not so much now, now you just feel... unsafe.

What with all the death threats, general threats, your home address and real face now being known... you don't feel safe in your own home anymore.

It's not a pleasant feeling, yet it is one you've felt before. One you never hoped to feel again. It's such a terrible feeling, knowing you might not be safe, in the place that you very well should be...

...

There's a knock at the door.

You are NOT going to answer it.

There are a lot of things that can happen in the exact moment of danger. Time feels like it slows down, and you have to make a choice... fight or flight, your natural instincts.

The door is kicked open and you drop down to at least somewhat hide yourself thanks to your couch. Maybe that pepper spray you lost last month is under there??? Hopefully...

And then... you hear a voice. A strangely familiar, sickly sweet voice.

"Ohh (Y/N)~" It calls out... "Where are youuuu~???"

That voice... you know that voice... you've been in a voice call with that voice before... that voice...

It's Gloomy... someone you thought was your friend...

"(Y/N), I know you're in here. Just show me where you are already. I-I won't hurt you~!!"

You frantically run your hand along the floor under your couch, looking for your pepper spray. You can't help but hope it's under there...

You hit something that rolls out from under your couch... it's exactly what you're looking for, but it also shows him exactly where you are.

A blue glow comes closer as the long, flaming hair drapes over your couch, the tips barely touching you as you lay on the ground. Then you see his face... piercing yellow eyes, and a terrifying, sickening smile full of sharp teeth...

"There you are!"

You scramble away from him in a panic, taking short glances at where the small canister rolled...

"There's no need to look so scared, (Y/N)." He smiles. "It's me, Gloomurai, Gloomy, Idia, your boyfriend."

"W...w-what... the hell... are you talking about...?"

"Are you fucking stupid? I think it's really clear what I said, isn't it?" He scowls at you... not just any scowl, it looks like he completely despised you... before quickly returning to a sickly sweet, and clearly fake smile. "I'm your boyfriend. You're my girlfriend. We've been dating for a long time, and I'm going to be taking you home with me now! I love you so much!"

"W-we've talked a few times... a-and I guess we're friends, but... but we aren't dating!!" You yell, clenching your fists tightly. You're absolutely terrified, but you don't want to just agree with him. There's no way in hell you're going to validate this...

"Yes we are. Do you not remember? Is your single braincell working overtime trying to understand what you already know? Aww, cute kitty..." The intruder suddenly pulls something out from his pocket.

He thrusts the object at you as you avoid it by crawling on your hands and knees as fast as you can towards your small canister. You stand up in the best defensive position you can, being sure to hide your spray from this creep.

"Ugh. Why are you so stubborn?? It won't hurt as much if you just stay still!!" He rushes towards you with the object, it's clear to you now that it is a syringe...

You spray him directly in the eyes as he screeches out in pain.

You run for your front door, hoping you can get away while he writhes in pain... but you feel something prick into your neck... and being flushed into your veins...

"YOU BITCH. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!!" He screams at you as you collapse. What is this... what in the world would work this fast...?

"...wh..." You try to ask what this is, before you feel a sudden metallic taste in your mouth, and blood begins to pour out...

"You don't need to know what it is. It's better if you don't know." The intruder shushes you. "I love you so much. I love you. We'll be happy together... me and a better version of you... I'll recreate you perfectly."

...he kisses you on the lips. He wipes your blood off of his face as he pulls away... when you realize he's wearing gloves.

"It won't be long before you hemorrhage all your blood... this stuff works really fast~" He smiles. "At least you'll look pretty as you die."

Idia's life entirely went back to normal after that. In fact, it's been a year since what he did.

Your body was found, but evidence to his crime was not.

Idia is a model student at NRC, despite almost never attending class in person. His grades are phenomenal, he hands in all his assignments in time, and he's going to get a good job when he graduates...

And... in his spare time... he's programming.

Idia is programming an artificial intelligence, based on a certain someone he used to know.

His lovely girlfriend.

"Don't worry... we'll be seeing each other again soon... I'm sure of it. I'll do everything I can to make it true... I love you, (Y/N)."

#btw if you noticed your username being 'nekoebi' its actually a reference to two things #'neko' and 'koebi' since your stream persona in this is a catgirl & obv silly shrimp name #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #yandere #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere idia #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere idia x reader

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piss-pumpkin · 4 months

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🔒That time you died(?)🩸

(Older)dipper pines x reader, Douce amere chapter 20, ~3.3k words Masterlist Prev

Tw- violence/blood

Ford used spray paint to draw the zodiac in the grass on the mystery shacks front lawn. You watched on the porch, arms folded into a chin rest as you stared out. You hadn’t been outside the shacks magical borders in a while. The sun was bright. Brighter than you remembered, as dramatic as that felt to think.

Everyone was gathered around. Pacifica and Dipper were inside together. Ford was nodding along with McGucket as he drew out the symbols. Robbie, Wendy, Mabel, and Gideon were chatting by Robbie’s car: halfway broken down Honda that he’d spray painted himself.

You smiled. Despite everything, it was a nice summer afternoon. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and the sun was bright overhead. It might’ve been enough to make you an optimist.

Sighing, you stood up and stretched your arms above your head. Maybe the sun was making you tired. Or maybe you could barely sleep with the anticipation. One or the other, either way you yawned on your way to the vending machine.

Lazily, you typed in a code, and got a Pitt cola. It was only a little gross. The pit wasn’t great. Sighing, you sat with your back to the machine, and sipped the drink. It might be a long day. Or not, if… you know. Whatever. You might not have known much, but you knew the waiting, no matter how long it really was, felt like a lifetime.

“Hey,” said Dipper, leaning on the machine beside you. His eye bags looked a little like war paint. Or maybe you were just searching for some sort of fight, or battle, and could find it anywhere. It would be so much easier if this was a fight.

You nodded up at him, and he slunk down beside you. “So,” he started awkwardly, watching the same scene as you. The preparations were pretty much done. Guess everyone was waiting on you, now.

You smiled, “So,” you echoed.

“Are you still sure about this?” He asked, studying your face. You could feel the way his eyes burnt into you.

You sighed, “Guess so.”

That must not have been the answer he was hoping for. Dipper didn’t say anything more, but his gaze never left your face, even as you looked back on the others, sipping your drink. The letter you’d written him was carefully tucked under your bag in Soos’ break room. Hidden just enough that they’d only find it if things went wrong. If all went well, you could get rid of all your papers nice and easy.

You tapped your feet against the porch, crushing you’re empty can, “are you ready?”

“I should be asking you that,” Dipper laughed dejectedly. He glanced at Ford and his red paint zodiac on the grass.

You snickered, “You already have.”

Dipper pulled his knees close to his chest, and rested his chin on them. “Then I guess I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” he sighed.

You smiled, lightly hitting him in the leg. You let your hand linger there a good moment, and flicked him when you pulled it back. “It’ll be fine, man,” you promised. He didn’t look like he believed it. But he nodded along with you.

Well, soon Bill would be out of your mind, and you could go back to… whatever summer you had left. You took a breath, stood up, and stretched your arms above your head. Smiling tiredly down at him, you offered Dipper a hand up.

He bit the inside of his cheek, and took it. Once his hand was firmly in yours, you heaved him up with force, leaning back on your heels and sending him stumbling forward with a grumble. “Come one, Dip,” you snickered.

You stepped off the porch towards the group. When you got down the stairs, you stopped. The grass felt nice on your ankles. The shacks magical border was ahead of you. You weren’t sure where on the lawn your safety ended, but it couldn’t be far now. The circle was drawn a few meters away. All you had to do was step out there.

Dipper waited beside you. Maybe he could sense your apprehension. You slowly inched forward, unsure when the effect would kick in.

You took a little baby step. And another. One foot, and then the other. You must have looked a little silly. Each step you waited for him to come back. Where was that barrier? It had to be getting closer. You didn’t feel any difference as you-

And then it hit. Once tiny step forward, and you may as well have been stabbed in the head. You little- you’re going to regret this. “Oh shit,” you started, stumbling forward. Dipper caught you by the arm. I’m going to kill him. Then you. You’re not as good a host as I thought. So he’s here already. You looked down at the grass, the spot that must have been the barrier. If you stepped back, you’d be safe. But you weren’t going to do that.

”Y/n?” Dipper asked. But his voice was like a distant echo. All you could focus on was the headache. Yeah, he’s gone, Bills voice rang through your ears. Just yours though, it seemed. You turned to Dipper, face twisted with pain. Good chance you didn’t have long before he was in control.

“I’m, uh-“ you tried. Oh god, it’s happening. You looked up. Oh no. You couldn’t much feel the headache anymore. Your eyes fixed on Dipper, and you were vaguely aware of his hand on your forearm. Bill. “Hey Pinetree,” Bill said, grinning. His smile felt sick on your lips.

His grip around you tightened for a moment, then all at once fell away. “Guys, he’s here!” Dipper shouted, turning to the crowd. Yeah, get his ass. Fuck him up.

Bill was back in control. That was fast. Your pulse was racing, heart pounding. He must be a little anxious. Bill we’re totally gonna kill you, you taunted in your mind. You’re so dead. “Then so are you, host body,” he laughed. Guess he know everything you knew, considering you were stuck together. He could sense your worry, maybe. He giggled, “you bet!”

Then the wind was knocked out of you. It was all you could do to watch as you fell to the ground, and Dipper backed away slowly, even as you hit the grass. Whatever attacked you came from the side, and flipped you into your stomach to hold you down.

“Bill,” Ford said. Your vision was a little blurry, and your cheeks pressed into the dirt. Ford had your arm locked behind you to keep you down. Good. Keep him that way. Don’t give him the chance.

Bill hissed under your breath, voice pushed out through barred teeth. Grass brushed pay your lips as he opened your mouth. “You’re really going down with the ship on this one?” You weren’t sure the others could hear his hushed tone. This was just for you. “How noble. Dead at what, sixteen?”

Oh my god, does he know something we don’t? You thought. You’re gonna be fine, you told yourself, Ford said it was a maybe. But…

Dippers words echoed through your mind. All the warnings. Bill tricks people, it’s what he does, you thought. You could feel your finger nails dig into the dirt, ripping through grass roots as Bill curled your fingers with rage. I’ll be fine, you thought louder. Loud enough for him to hear.

Bill grumbled as Ford, Stan and Wendy hauled you up to your feet, starting to pull you towards the circle. A pit was forming in your stomach as Bill growled under your breath. Holy shit, he was scared. This could just work.

But then in one swift motion, your legs flew out from under you. Bill shot your foot out straight into Fords knee, sending him buckling to the ground as he groaned in pain. The exclamations of the others were like a far off call, most of what you heard was the thumping in your ears, and the guilty sound of Fords pain.

In the small moment of panic, Bill was turning the tide. He whipped your arm out of Wendy’s grasp, and tried to trip Stan on his way out.

Stop. If you had any control of your breath, it might have quickened. Bill took heavy steps on your feet as he tried to pick up speed on your weary legs. Guess you still had some energy left after this whole ordeal.

”Don’t think so,” Bill hissed.

“I don’t either,” Dipper cut in. Where’d he come from? Bill stumbled as he grabbed you, wrapping his arms around you to stop Bill from fighting back. And suddenly Wendy was racing back, and before Bill could even think about swinging your legs again, she grabbed you by the ankles, forcing your legs up so her and Dipper could carry you. As Bill struggled and wriggled, she hugged your feet close to her body to sequester them.

Oh my god. They’ve got this. The force of their hold was tight, but it lifted a weight off your chest.

Bills voice was a whisper, barely even words. Maybe he didn’t even speak, and just moved your lips. Either way, you heard it loud and clear, “Wanna bet I can talk my way out of this?” Despite everything, he still acted like he had the upper hand. Calm, calculated. You would’ve shuddered.

The eyes of the others were searing into you. Whenever Bill thrashed, you caught glimpses of horrified expressions across the board. Even Robbie looked unsettled, and unsettling was usually the vibe he was going for. The only one who didn’t look phased was McGucket. Though Ford and Stan were still out of sight.

Hope Fords leg is alright. Another apology to add to the list that was growing more every time you stepped outside. Had you apologized to Stan yet for stealing his car?

Wendy groaned, resisting a kick, “how are we gonna do this?”

Bill was yelling and laughing, very much incoherently to you. You did your best to focus on your friends voices.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Ford hobbling over with Stan supporting him under arm. “They need to be restrained,” he said stiffly.

Wendy and Dipper paused, and you got an under hand look at Dippers face, mostly his chin, as he hesitated. They shared a glance as Bill squirmed. What happened to talking his way out? Bill didn’t seem to be trying very hard.

“Have a little patience,” Bill whispered. Even without control of your body, it made you feel cold. You stared idly wherever Bill pointed your head as Wendy tied your hands behind your back. No more fighting back. Duct tape restraints dig into your wrists, but the feeling seemed far away. Your ankles were next.

If Bill was going to make a move, he didn’t show it. They carried you to the centre of the circle, entrapped by the zodiacs members in case Bill found an away to escape again. Bill kept your eyes trained on Dipper, Mabel, and Stan, even as Ford spoke to him. You could feel the beginnings of a sick grin on your lips.

The twins faces were locked in a grimace, but they steeled themselves. They didn’t speak to him, even when Bill started to laugh. Oh my god, stop that. Dippers eyes flickered to the grass at his feet rather than look at your face. Bill wriggled to the edge of the circle to hone in on him. Stop that.

“I’m not doing anything,” Bill whispered. Maybe he just mouthed it again.

Ugh. You’re freaking him out. In a second you wanted to hit yourself for thinking that out loud. If Bill was looking for a weak link, you’d confirmed he found it. Dippers eyes were trained on the grass.

Bill giggled. Shit. He looked up at Dipper with those big manic eyes and wide smile.

Ford had finished saying something to the group, maybe telling them what to do. They all held hands. Thunder clapped in the distance. Wasn’t it sunny? A peripheral glimpse overhead showed grey clouds gathering overhead. A faint blue glow emanated from the group. Shit, that was fast. Is this it working? The wind was picking up around you, seemingly coming from all directions towards the centre of the circle.

So, this might go according to plan, then. That’s… good. You’ll be fine.

Then Bill did something that surprised you. You could feel your body contort as he winced, and sucked a breath in through barred teeth. Your face was twisted in a grimace as he let out a small cry. He might’ve been doing his best impression of you.

I- what are you doing? Even with your senses dulled, you could tell there was no pain. The most pressing sensation was just the grass beneath you and the tape around your joints.

Then it clicked. Dipper was staring down at you, horrified. Oh no. Do not. Bill, no. Your laughter perforated the air as Bill cackled. Doing his best impression of your pain, he said, “Are you really willing to let them die over me?”

Don’t listen, we’re fine, you wanted to shout. But you couldn’t. Dipper was glancing back and forth between you and Mabel, occasionally Ford. Bill giggling drowned out Fords voice across the circle.

Bill coughed. That’s just dramatic, why would this affect our lungs? Our lungs. You would’ve kicked yourself for saying our. They were your lungs, he was just occupying them. “Your loss I guess,” Bill said to Dipper, doing his best at a pained smile.

Dipper shouted over you, “Ford, is it supposed to hurt them?”

”I don’t know,” a faint voice yelled back. Dipper bit the inside of his cheek, and by the way it moved you could tell he was chewing. He grimaced, but didn’t break his hand hold on Wendy beside him. Good.

Bill was on your knees, and with a groan turned your head down to the grass, hiding your expression. A few dew drops sparkled with the light that got through the shade of your head and hair. He glared at the ground and mouthed, ‘fine, you really want me to play?’

You didn’t. That is definitely not what you wanted. How much longer did Bill even have? The circuit had been complete for a few moments now. This had to be over soon.

Bill was doing your voice. Your mannerisms. Just the way you’d speak. “Hey, wait- wait,” he sputtered. “Is- is this supposed to hurt? I don’t think I’m ready!” Crocodile tears were welling in your eyes as your head whipped up to look at Dipper again. Stay strong.

Dipper stayed strong. “Yes, good, staying strong,” you said. Wait, what? Bill grumbled, and your face knit back into a knot of pain. Hold on, are you losing control here? You wanted to laugh, maybe punch the air. Instead, your fist twitched as it gripped the grass. Baby steps.

Bill threw your body down, wiggling away from Dipper again, your eyes laser focused on the ground, scanning the dirt. “Fine then,” Bill growled. “We’ll play a different type of game.” Your bound hands might’ve made you look like an inchworm.

Bill stopped before a rock in the dirt. Wait. What are you-

Bill slammed your head into the stone.

The pain was dull. In the same way most senses were, like the yelling that sounded far off, or the grass beneath you. Bill went in for another smash, nailing you in the forehead between the eyes. The clearest feeling you had was a small trickle of blood creeping down to your nose. Stop stop stop stop stop stop. You saw the ground rapidly approaching again. Stop.

You didn’t hit rock. When your head came up again, a hand came into focus beneath you. Bill whipped around to look, grin on your lips even as the blood from your forehead hit them. The same blood was wiped on Dippers the back of hand now. Dipper. Dipper Dipper Dipper.

Bill was still smiling. And with a twitch of your lips you felt the grin widen seeing Dippers maddened distress as his hands flew to your shoulders.

He didn’t seem to know what to say. He gritted his teeth, and stared into your yellow eyes. Thank you. Thank you. “Thank you,” you managed to say.

“Dipper, the circuit!” Ford shouted. He sounded muffled and far away.

Dippers eyes didn’t leave you even as he yelled back, “Someone needs to hold them down!” Pulling his sleeve over his hand, he wiped the blood from your forehead, and pressed the fabric in to stop the blood. When he pulled it back, it had a bigger dark stain than you’d have liked.

Mabel and Pacifica fell to their knees beside him, rushing over to you both. Pacifica might have asked what was going on. Her voice sounded far away. Bills echoing laughter was the clearest noise. Weird we aren’t passed out yet, huh?

’you aren’t that much of a little bitch,’ Bill mouthed. In one swift motion, he swung your head forward again, making the floor spin below you. Your head clashed straight on Dippers skull. Your vision was blurry when you pulled back, but you saw blood smeared in his birthmark where his hair parted.

Dipper stumbled back, breathing heavy. That was Mabel and Pacificas wake up call. Them, and maybe some others- it was a blur to you- came forth to steady your head.

Yells sounded garbled and underwater. Dipper looked so scared. He tapped and brushed at the blood on his forehead while his eyes were trained on you. He looked a little like when he first fought you- Bill- off.

Bill laughed, thrashing when they tried to restrain him.

Fords calm and steady hands came from behind, and his voice was clear. “I’ve got them,” he said, dragging you back away from the rest. “We need to complete the circuit, that’s the only way to end this.”

How he managed to steady his voice was beyond you. The world was spinning, Dipper was terrified, all your friends looked at you with a mix of pity and horror, but at least Ford was steady. Guess he’d probably done something like this before. Stan seemed to nod along too, and was the first to retake his place on the circle.

Ford carefully forced you to the ground, and put his foot down to hold you. With your body weak, and Ford strong, Bill couldn’t wriggle out.

As everyone linked hands again, the faint blue light and storming counts above came back.

Bill laughed. Then it was you for a moment as he lost a little control. Then he was back with a growl. Once more he started talking, and each word seemed to come out muffled or slurred or with a gasp for breath as the world spun. “I’ll be back,” he declared. “Again, and again, you can’t get rid of me,” he giggled with a malicious glee. He swallowed, “Sixer, you must know that, right?”

Ford grumbled.

”This isn’t how it was meant to happen, but next time will be better. You think the zodiac can end me?” Bill laughed. “Caveman drawings are nothing! This is nothing!”

Your face was pressed into the grass. Things were starting to get dark and spotty. Maybe it was Bill, maybe it was your head, it maybe it was the pressure of Fords boot. You had a hundred reasons to pass out now.

But Bill held on. “A x o l o t l-“

And then it all went black.

Fellas. A little before writing this I watched ‘talk to me’ it’s an Australian horror movie and like iykyk cuz I sure did steal some ideas 😭

Also we pretty much caught up to where I’ve written too so like you’re experience the story around the same time I am now 😭

Taglist: @dead-esque @cipheress-to-k-pop

#x reader #my writing #douce amere #dipper pines #dipper pines x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls x reader #dipper x reader

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