A Surprise Pride And Prejudice Engagement

Anything for You

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: descriptions of menstrual cycles and menstrual blood, discussion of the loss of a parent

word count: 5.2k

synopsis: Fae menstrual cycles are notoriously terrible to endure, but yours seem to be especially torturous. Mor normally helps you through your cycles, but when yours comes early and Mor is away, a certain Shadowsinger steps in to help.

my masterlist

~ ~ ~

You were convinced your cycle was a curse that spawned from the depths of hell. Every fae female endured painful and taxing cycles, but yours was vicious. It had been since the very first time you bled, and every cycle since for the last 20 years was laced with the same crippling agony. The same pain that had you heaving into your toilet now. 

You were a healer, for Mother’s sake, and even you could not find a remedy to alleviate the pain that accompanied fae cycles. When you were young, your mother would do her best to soothe you. She would create potent sleep tonics to lull you to sleep through the pain, but even those would last only a few hours before the pain shredded through the momentary peace. She never told you what she put in those tonics, and she never gave them to patients, and you had not yet been able to replicate it since she passed. 

When she passed five years ago, the pain of your grief only compounded with the pain of suffering through your cycle for the first time alone. The agony was unbearable, and it was the first and only time you had passed out from the pain. Before you had to suffer through another dreadful cycle on your own, you blessedly met the Inner Circle of the Night Court.

~ Five Years Ago ~

The drink you had been nursing for the last hour swirled around in the bottom of the crystal glass. You frowned at the dark liquid, having lost your taste for it tonight. You weren’t much of a drinker anyway, but tonight was your mother’s birthday, and Rita had begged you to stop by tonight to pour you a drink in honor of her beloved friend.

You were grateful for Rita. You knew she kept tabs on you, if her weekly visits to your tonic shop down the street were any indication, and you appreciated her worrying about you. It was nice to know that at least one person still did. Although, you couldn’t bring yourself to down the rest of the free drink. You were sandwiched between two drunk males at the bar, one nearly passed out and the other contributing to the deafening chatter of the crowded room. 

You were just about to stand up and leave when the splintering of wood and a heavy thud shook the room. You followed the gazes of everyone else to where two winged males were hefting another male up from the floor covered in the wood shards from a table.

You couldn’t make out what they were saying to the sneering male over the murmur of the bar, but it was clear he was belligerently drunk. You noticed a blonde female standing nearby, speaking softly to a visibly terrified female. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots. Your gaze then snapped back to the two winged males, and the glowing red and blue siphons adorning their wrists made their identities suddenly dawn on you. Your eyes snagged on the blood smeared across the red siphoned one’s wing, and they widened at the sight of a large slice through the delicate membrane.

The one with blue siphons and shadows swirling around him yanked the snarling male toward him, and the two of them suddenly disappeared. The injured male and female, who you now recognized as the Night Court’s general and the Morrigan, ignored the gazes of the bar as they made their way to the back exit. You watched Rita intercept them to share a few quick words, and then they were gone.

You didn’t know what compelled you to follow them out the back door just a minute later. Perhaps it was because you were innately nosey, or maybe it was the healer instinct in you pushing you to help someone in pain. It was likely the desire to dull the throbbing pain of missing your Mother by involving yourself in a potentially precarious situation.

The wooden door to the bar shut slowly behind you as the cool night air kissed your warm skin. You took in a small breath, savoring the freedom of the fresh air, before fairly loud voices at the end of the alley pulled your attention.

Morrigan and the general were standing together, seemingly arguing. “He was clearly violating her!” the male yelled.

“I know that, Cassian!” the female hissed. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have done anything. I’m saying you should have deescalated the situation before he stabbed you and you threw him through a damn table!”

“I’m sorry!” He threw his hands up. He looked like he might have said more, but suddenly the second winged male, the Shadowsinger, appeared next to them from the shadows.

A beat of silence passed before the returned male said, “I assume she’s reaming you for acting like an impulsive brute?”

Wasn’t he right by the general’s side when that male was kicked through the table? You thought it was strange how casual the three of them were interacting with each other, even if they were arguing.

“Fuck you, Az,” the general grumbled.

The shadowsinger asked, his voice softer, “Are you alright?”

“No, he’s not alright,” Morrigan cut in, waving her hand toward his wing. “His wing has a damn gash in the middle of it.”

The general ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “We’re going to have to call Madja.”

“Are you happy now, Cas? Your bar fight–”

“Mor,” the shadowsinger cut her off quietly, and she quickly halted her verbal lashing.

A larged winged body was suddenly a foot away from you, and you yelped at the sudden intimidating presence. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice cold and hard.

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “I–I’m Y/N. I don’t mean any harm. I followed you out here.” You glanced toward the two still at the end of the alley, now staring at you, as you spoke quickly to try to calm the menacing male in front of you. “I followed you out here to see if you needed any help. I’m a healer, and I saw your wing, but then when I came out here you were arguing and I–I froze.”

The shadowsinger seemed to believe you, taking a step back from your tense and wide-eyed form before dismissing you, “We don’t need your assistance.”

You bit your lip and glanced at the wounded male down the alley, agony slowly creeping through his resolve held up by the adrenaline coursing through him. “I know Illyrian wings are…delicate,” you swallowed. “But really, I can help. My mother–she was Illyrian.”

The shadowsinger glowered at you. “We would know if there was an Illyrian in Velaris.”

You shook your head slightly, holding his inscrutable stare. “Her wings were clipped,” you said softly, before adding, “if you can call it that. She was a teenager. Some boys in her camp ambushed her, took her wings.” You looked at him earnestly. “I don’t know how she made it to Velaris. She never told me. But she was a healer, and she taught me about caring for Illyrian wings. She always said it was important to be familiar with my,” you hesitated, glancing between the two full-blooded Illyrian males, “my culture.”

“Az,” Morrigan called, snapping his attention to where she stood with her arm now around the general’s middle. “I don’t know if we can wait on Madja. His wing, it’s already healing.”

His face was stoic when he turned back to you, but his eyes held a sense of urgency beneath his cool assessing gaze. “You know how to properly heal him?”

You nodded.

With a slight twitch of his jaw, he nodded toward the general. “Then help him.” Then, as an afterthought, “Please.”

You nodded again, gathering your remaining courage to stand up straight. “Take him to my shop. It’s just a few buildings down.”

~ Present ~

Since that night, the Inner Circle started to visit you for various tonics and treatments. Madja had vouched for you, telling them that many of the tonics she used in her clinic came from your store. You bonded quickly with the group, and even became friendly with Amren when she decided to visit your shop herself. Eventually, they invited you into their fold, hoping you could use the Court’s resources to further your tonic development and research.

You moved into the House of Wind. Cas, Az, Mor, and even Amren became your new family. Not long after you moved in, Mor had found you writhing in bed on the morning of your cycle, and for every one since then she was there to help you through it. Today, though, Mor was away in the Winter Court, and it looked like you would have to fend for yourself this time.

Your cycle was early. You tracked it religiously, given its severity, and you knew you had to prepare for it to take you down for at least a couple of days. You were always prepared. This time, though, with it nearly three weeks ahead of schedule, you had nothing you needed to get through this. No linens, no pain relief tonics, no sleep tonics (not that they did much), nothing. Worse yet, you were supposed to meet with Feyre today for lunch.

You loved your High Lady, but you still feared upsetting her, or worse yet, upsetting the High Lord by proxy. Rhys had been nothing but kind and welcoming to you since he returned to Velaris. Feyre, of course, knew no different. However, you were still hyper aware of how you had altered the tight dynamic Rhys expected to return to, and you were terrified of disappointing him or making him regret keeping you within his fold. The last thing you needed was to stand your friend, your High Lady, his mate up for lunch.

The mere thought of the pastries served at the patisserie you were meant to be at in an hour sent you hurdling over the toilet basin again, heaving as pain radiated from your abdomen. Breathing heavily, your vision swam as a ripple of pain so intense spread through you that you swore you felt it in your teeth. You slowly laid your body down on the cool tile, curling up in a ball. Tears leaked from your eyes as your vision grew hazier until eventually they closed on their own accord, darkness engulfing you.

~

“Y/N,” a deep voice drawled. The voice was muffled, and you were confused where it was coming from. “Y/N,” the voice said again, this time much clearer, and you felt heat seeping into your skin. “Please, wake up!”

Brightness flooded your vision and you took in a small gasp as you reoriented to your surroundings. You squinted at the figure above you as they muttered, “Thank the Mother.”

“Azriel?”

His thumb brushed your cheek. “Yeah. Yeah it’s me.”

You winced as pain sliced through your abdomen, rolling onto your back. Azriel shifted to give you space to do so, but your side brushed his knee he had on the ground.

“Hey,” Azriel said softly, his hand now on your clammy arm. An uncomfortable layer of sweat coated your skin that only added to your misery. “Did you hit your head?”

You furrowed your brow. “What? No.”

“Then why did you pass out on the bathroom floor?”

Mortification seeped through the daze that lingered. “I—” You swallowed and glanced down at your body, still clothed in only a nightgown. A bloody nightgown now, since you’ve been laying here for who knows how long without any linens. Your face flushed. “My cycle started,” you told him meekly. “The pain—it was too much, I guess.”

His face softened and he brushed a gentle hand over your head. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He reached to pick you up, but you jerked away, mortification flooding you. “No.”

He frowned, hurt flashing through his eyes. “What? Why?”

You shook your head, looking away. Tears stung your eyes. “I’m fine, Azriel.” You weakly pushed yourself up, bracing a hand on the toilet. You quickly hunched over as pain gripped you. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re in pain,” he argued. “Let me help you.”

Your stomach twisted and a tear ran down your cheek. You weren’t sure if it was from the pain or the absolute humiliation you felt right now from Azriel seeing you like this.

“Hey,” he said softly, warmth suffusing his normally cool voice. He gently brushed away the tear rolling down your cheek. A shadow curled through your hair that was now damp at your nape. “Can I run you a bath?”

You gazed at the blood on your gown and cringed at the sight. Your hyper awareness of it coating the skin of your legs only amplified your repulsion and discomfort. Finally, you nodded reluctantly but avoided his eyes.

You expected him to get up to start the bath, but instead he lifted your chin to make you face him. His eyes were so soft, so warm, when he said, “It’s just blood.” His hand shifted to cup your face. “It’s just me. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I’ll leave if you really want me to. I can see if Feyre can stop by after—”

Your eyes widened. “Oh gods,” you gasped. “Feyre. I was supposed to meet her for lunch. What time is it?”

Azriel shushed you. “It’s okay. You missed lunch, but it’s okay. Feyre was worried about you, but she had an art class to teach, so she asked me to check on you. Clearly, she was right to be worried.”

“I can’t believe I stood her up—”

“You passed out in the bathroom from pain, Y/N,” he cut you off. “Feyre would never hold that against you. Neither would Rhys,” he added, knowing you far too well.

Water suddenly started filling the tub behind you. Azriel smiled softly. “I guess the House beat me to it.”

He stood up, and then reached down to pull you up by your underarms. You shakily stood in front of him, hands crossing over your abdomen. Your knees started to buckle under the intensity of the pain, but Azriel quickly stabilized you by your waist. You closed your eyes and sucked in a breath, in far too much pain to keep protesting his help you desperately needed. Help you desperately wanted. “Azriel,” you whimpered, nothing else coming out.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he reassured. “Do you need help getting in the bath?”

Resigned, you nodded. “I don’t think I can do this,” you whispered.

“Okay.” He nodded. “Let’s get you in the bath then. First, we need to get this gown off you.” His thumb gently brushed your hip, and his shadows mimed his gentle touch across your cheeks and neck. “Can I?”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and nodded. He swiftly pulled the gown up and over your head, and while he turned to toss the gown in your hamper, you slid your ruined underwear off. You stepped toward the bath, but you embarrassingly tripped over your own feet. Azriel was there instantly, swiftly resting a hand on the middle of your bare back and another under your arm. “Easy,” he murmured, gently guiding you to step into the tub, stabilizing you as you sank down beneath the sudsy water.

You leaned back in the tub, Azriel releasing you. “I hate that you’re seeing me like this,” you admitted quietly.

Azriel frowned as he kneeled next to you outside the tub. “Why?”

“I hate how weak I am right now. It’s humiliating, Az. I shouldn’t need your help. I should be able to take care of myself.”

“How is me helping you any different from letting Mor help you?” he asked, seriously. 

Well, you weren’t in love with Mor, for starters.

“Mor doesn’t judge you, you know that. I’m not judging you either. I would never think less of you for this,” he told you. “I want to help you. I want to be here with you. So please, let me.”

You stared into his eyes for a brief moment, absorbing the genuine care and concern shining through the normally cool and guarded male. Here was this massive winged Illyrian warrior, adorned in armor and powerful siphons, with shadows swirling around him and a dagger strapped to his side that sent most scrambling, sitting beside you at your weakest most vulnerable state. You felt nothing but safe in that moment, and the thought made you close your eyes to hide the glossy sheen quickly forming over them. 

You wanted Azriel with you. You wanted him to take care of you. You were embarrassed, yes, vulnerable and exposed, but you knew in your bones that there was no one else on the planet who would care for you as well as Azriel.

With your eyes still closed, you asked him quietly, “Will you please help me wash my hair?”

A beat passed, then Azriel said, “Of course I will.”

Your eyes fluttered open to meet his soft ones. Then you yelped as something fell and splashed into the tub, getting water on Azriel. You winced as you leaned forward to scoop it out, finding a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. 

“You can tell the House was Made by Nesta,” Azriel muttered until his breath. You couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped you, earning a shy grin from Azriel.

He took the bottles from you and sat them on the floor. He slid off some of the armor on his arms, including the siphons, leaving just the one in the center of his chest. You watched him pour a handful of shampoo into the palm of his tan, scarred hand. 

You closed your eyes again as he started gently massaging the shampoo into your scalp, building a soothing lather. His large hands and surprisingly nimble fingers scrubbed every inch of your scalp, and you thought you might melt when he paid special attention to the nape of your neck. When he was done, he filled a small bowl you kept on your sink with water, then slowly poured it over your head to rinse the soap from your hair. 

He pulled a cloth from the stack of towels beside the tub, but he paused his motions after dipping it in the soapy water. Before he could even ask, you nodded your head and murmured, “Please.”

Azriel gently washed your arm and then the next. He ran the cloth over your collarbone, barely brushing the tops of your breasts, but you were too exhausted and numb with resounding pain to think much of it, and Azriel’s touch and gaze remained nothing but respectful. A warm hand on your shoulder gently coaxed you to lean forward so he could reach your back.

A shiver racked your body as he brushed over your spine, and simultaneously another sharp pain pierced your abdomen. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes from the juxtaposition of sensations you were feeling. Azriel brushed a tear away with his thumb not covered in soap. “Doing okay?” he asked softly.

More tears leaked from your eyes. “It hurts so bad, Az,” you choked out.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said sincerely, as he finished washing your back. “I wish I could do something.”

“You are, Az.” You placed your hand over his on your shoulder, meeting his eyes briefly before he looked away. “I’ve only spent a cycle alone once and,” you swallowed the ache that formed in your chest, “And it was horrible. You just being here—it means everything. Let alone you taking care of me.”

He didn’t say anything, but he brushed small strokes against the skin of your shoulder before pulling the cloth away from your back. You took the cloth from him and said, “I can finish up.”

He nodded, and for a moment he looked unsure what to do before you said, “Az?” His gaze snapped back to yours. Your cheeks heated irrationally. “I don’t have any linens for…” You looked down at the water before going back to him. “And I don’t have any tonics.”

His eyes widened at the last sentence. “You haven’t even taken a tonic?”

You shook your head. “I’m normally more prepared than this, but this time it was so early,” you told him, embarrassed. 

“Why didn’t you ask someone to get you one? Ask me?” he asked, clearly exasperated. “Mother above, Y/N. I know Mor is usually the one who helps you, but any of us would do anything for you.”

You looked away as he sighed and brushed a hand over your hair. “I’ll get you what you need,” he murmured. “Are you okay here for a few minutes?”

You nodded. “I promise not to pass out and drown in the bathtub.”

“That’s not even funny,” he grumbled as he stood up. He put his siphons back on his wrist and said, “I’ll be right back.” He spared one more hesitant glance at you before exiting the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him.

You quickly washed yourself, then leaned back against the tub to wait for Azriel to return. You thought about getting out, but the pain radiating to your thighs and the remaining lightheadedness made you think better of it. A lingering shadow swooped over your collarbone, as if agreeing with your decision. You shut your eyes, practicing some of the breathing techniques Nesta had shared with you from their Valkyrie training to distract you. 

The door creaked open and Azriel’s voice said, “If you fell asleep in the tub, so help me.”

You peaked at him through hooded eyes before fully opening them. A teasing smile adorned his face, and he held a bottle and some linen cloth pads in his hands. He sat the linens on the counter and opened the bottle, handing it to you. “Drink this.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. He left the bathroom again briefly before returning with a new gown and underwear. “Are you ready to get out?”

“Yeah,” you said, licking your lips of any residual bitterness from the tonic.

Azriel reached for a towel and held it up for you. “I have some food and water for you in the room to wash the tonic down,” he said. You shakily stood up in the tub and he swiftly wrapped you in the towel. He held you by your arm as you stepped out, and guided you over to the counter where your clothes were.

He grabbed the underwear that already had a pad in it. “Here.” He knelt down in front of you, holding the underwear out for you. “Hang on to me and step in these.”

You did as he said, and he swiftly pulled them up your legs. He followed suit with the nightgown, letting the towel drop only after it covered you. He then used your comb on your counter to detangle your wet hair, patting it dry with your towel. 

You wanted to kiss this male for how sweet he was. He presented himself as cold, stoic, and dangerous, but he was the kindest male you had ever met. The gentleness in his touch was a paradox to the career and reputation he had.

He picked you up without warning, cradling you in his arms. “Let’s get you in bed.”

He moved swiftly through your room, setting you on the bed with clean sheets. He handed you a glass of water, telling you to drink before handing you a berry scone. “You think you can stomach this?”

You nodded, not entirely convinced you could, but you were starving. Azriel sat beside you on the bed quietly while you ate your scone. You took a few more sips of water before setting it back on the nightstand. Azriel reached for another tonic bottle on the table, handing it to you. “This is a sleep tonic,” he told you. “Madja said they don’t usually work for your cycle? But I thought it was worth trying, if you want.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Az.” You drank the tonic, this one thankfully sweeter than the first one. “When I was younger, my mom always gave me a sleep tonic that instantly put me to sleep.” You smiled, nostalgia hitting you. Azriel listened intently. “I have no idea how she made it. I’ve never been able to successfully recreate it. I wish she wrote her recipes down, so I had more than just the memories of things she told me,” you said softly.

You laid down, head resting on your pillow as you faced Az. His eyes roved over you, uncertainty flickering in them. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Trepidation laced your voice as you started, “Can you just—” you swallowed hard and shook your head. “Nevermind,” you whispered, smiling half-heartedly. “I’m fine. Thank you, Az.”

Azriel frowned, and he smoothed a gentle hand over your damp hair. The motion had his cool cedar scent wafting over you, and you closed your eyes in a brief indulgence. “Y/N,” he murmured, hazel eyes glimmering with resolution as they met yours, “Tell me what you need. You say it, and it’s yours.”

Your heart skipped a beat. A few beats passed as you grappled for the courage to make your request. “Can you please just lay with me?” you asked, voice cracking under the weight of so many different emotions flooding your system.

Nearly imperceptibly, Azriel’s eyes widened. If you didn’t know him so well, you would have never noticed the shift in his breathing, the twitch of his wings. All signs that Azriel, the Shadowsinger, was nervous. You had feared rejection, but suddenly you were hit with the new fear that you had made him uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” you rushed out. “I should never—you don’t have to—”

“Hey,” he rested a warm hand on the duvet covering your thigh. “Of course I will.” He stood up from the bed and moved to the couch that rested under your window, slipping off his boots. “Just let me take some of this off first.”

You shifted to face him fully, watching silently as he removed his heavy leathers from his torso, leaving his chest and arms bare with his shadows slowly snaking across him. He removed his belt and thigh holsters, then he started unlacing his pants before he paused and met your gaze. You blushed at being caught in your ogling, but Azriel didn’t seem to mind. “Is this okay? I can go get some clean clothes from my room. I just—I know you like your bed clean, and I didn’t want to climb in with these dirty leathers.”

“It’s fine, Az,” you assured him, smiling softly. 

He nodded and slipped his pants off, leaving him in his underwear. Your breath caught at the sight of his tanned, muscled thighs, and the blush on your cheeks intensified with the impure thoughts pushing to the front of your mind. A new wave of pain quickly dissolved any thoughts of debauchery, and your wince and sharp inhale had Azriel taking quick strides to your bed.

He climbed in under the covers, the warmth radiating from his body immediately seeping into your cool, damp skin. He moved around until he was on his side, facing you, and his wings sprawled out behind him. A few tendrils of shadow flitted over to you, grazing your neck and cheeks. You grinned despite the pain you were still in.

“Sorry,” Azriel murmured, and you swore his cheeks were tinged pink. “Do they bother you?”

“Not at all,” you told him honestly. “They’re…comforting, really.”

His eyes softened, and he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. The pad of his thumb grazed the exposed skin of your collarbone, and you couldn’t help the goosebumps that appeared across your flesh. “Come here,” Azriel said softly, gently nudging you toward him.

You both shimmied closer to each other until you were fully pressed against his tattooed chest, cheek meeting the warm skin of his pectoral. You curled your arms up in between you both, letting his body fully cocoon yours as his arms wrapped around you.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Growing up, my mother would always hold me. Whenever I was hurting. Whether it was because of my cycle, or if I was scared, or heartbroken,” your voice cracked as you continued, “She would always lay with me and just hold me.” You sniffed, and a tear rolled down your cheek as Azriel’s embrace tightened. “I miss her so much, Az,” you sobbed.

“I know, sweetheart,” he cooed and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. “You can always tell me about her. Anytime you want.”

You nodded into his chest, not ready to speak.

“I wish I could have met her,” he told you quietly. “She would be so proud of you, though, I know it. Imagine if she knew you followed the High Lord’s general out of a bar and demanded to heal his wings.”

You scoffed, but it sounded more like a choke. “I did not demand anything.” 

You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was smiling. “True, you were too polite to do such a thing.”

“Were?”

He laughed. “But we all knew you weren’t going to let Cassian leave without you at least looking at him. Most people run the other direction when they see us, but not you.” His wing settled over the two of you softly, the added warmth and pressure a welcome comfort. “I’m so glad Cas got in that fight.”

“I am too.”

You shifted slightly so you could see the wing hovering over you. You met Azriel’s warm and watchful hazel eyes as you hesitantly reached for the delicate membrane. You paused before touching him, meeting his curious gaze, and when he didn’t stop you, you lightly brushed your fingertips across the smooth and leathery membrane. Azriel shuddered, and you quickly retracted your hand.

“Sorry,” you rushed out, your cheeks and ears hot. “I’m sorry. They’re just so beautiful. I forget how delicate and sensitive they are.”

“Sensitive, being the key word,” Az choked out.

“Sorry,” you murmured, looking away sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” he assured, pulling you tight against him again. “I don’t mind you touching them. Truly. Like I said, they’re just sensitive.”

He jostled you around a bit as he readjusted, holding you tight against him with his wing still offering an extra layer of protection. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep, yeah?” His soft, near melodic voice made you aware of your eyes starting to droop with every passing second. “I’ll stay right here,” he promised.

“Okay,” you weakly rasped as you unabashedly nuzzled against him. “Thank you, Az.”

“Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispered as his cheek rested against the top of your head. “Anything.”

Because telling fat people that they are in fact humans that deserve dignity and respect automatically means you’re ~*GLORIFYING OBESITY*~

By the way, don’t dribble on to me saying you worry about a fat person’s ‘health’. That’s just a bullshit excuse to voice your unwanted opinion on a fat person’s body considering you wouldn’t give a single flying fuckadoodle about someone’s health if they were skinny. Besides another person’s health is none of your damned business anyway. Run along now and preach to a choir that actually cares.

I’m going to be honest, so long as you’re not hurting anyone, you can eat soy sauce and milk duds all day long for all I care.

TLOU2 and the Stages of Grief

To begin, here’s a quick crash course into the 5 Stages of Grief. 

There are five stages of grief; Denial & Isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Although these are the identified stages, they are not experienced the same for everyone. People experience them occurring in different orders, experience each stage to different degrees, and in some cases people don’t experience all of the stages. Often times people in real life experience these stages without full completion due to how quickly the world moves and the responsibilities that society has put on an individual. Throughout the whole process, our own feelings and thoughts of mortality is brought up. But there is a common thread in each of the stages and that is Hope. While you may have lost someone you are still alive and there is hope that you will continue to live, or in some cases just survive.

Now that we’ve covered some basics to the 5 Stages of Grief, let’s really get into it in regards to The Last of Us Part II. There will be spoilers ahead.

Keep reading

Not Alone

Steve Rogers x Daughter!Reader

Not Alone

Author: Morgan

Prompt: Could you do one where Steve finds an orphaned little girl somehow and he kinda takes her under his wing please?

Note: Awwwwww. Let’s say reader is about five years old? Maybe a bit younger?

After Sokovia, S.H.I.E.L.D. and Stark Industries set up a program to reunite survivors with their families and find them sustainable housing. Steve Rogers and the rest of the new Avengers helped some days, trying to help families find each other.

It had been months, and yet one little girl hadn’t found her family. And she wouldn’t. They were all gone.

“Sweetie,” Steve knelt down in front of you. You were sitting in a chair under the tent the team was stationed at. It was empty, and the only people left were them and you. “How would you like to come home with us?”

“Okay,” you nodded, sniffles left from all of the crying. You wiped your eyes. Steve smiled, offering you his large hand. You latched onto his finger as he led you to the quinjet. Steve helped you into a car seat and buckled you in. The machine took off.

“Are you Captain America?” you asked. He smiled, gentle blue eyes sparkling.

“I am,” he nodded. “But my friends call me Steve. You can call me Steve too, if you want.”

“Steve, where are we going?”

“To the Avengers Facility,” Steve answered. “Somewhere you’ll be safe, where you won’t have to be alone.”

“Good.” You smiled gently. “I don’t like being alone.”

***

Weeks later, you woke up crying. Nightmares about Sokovia plagued your sleep and you could never seem to sleep without a disturbance.

Steve came to your room soon after, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and clicking on your bedroom light.

“You okay?” he asked. You shook your head, fresh tears forming in your eyes. He jogged over and sat on your bed. “Hey, hey, I’m here. It’s okay, I promise,”

“It was Sokovia all over again,” you sobbed, your tiny body shaking. “I was all alone…”

“You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.” Steve grabbed a tissue from your nightstand and wiped your tears away.

“S-Steve, please don’t leave,” you begged.

“I won’t,” Steve smiled softly. He bent forward and kissed your forehead. “I’ll sleep on your couch. Right over here.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “Goodnight Steve,”

“Goodnight,”

My silver lining (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Anonymous requested:

Hey! I love your blog! Can you maybe do a steve x reader based on the song my silver lining from first aid kit? maybe were she just had enough and want to see other things or something like that? thank you so much ♥

Words: 755

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: There’s not much angst here, there’s nothing to worry about, really.

Author notes: (Y/N) is your name, (Y/L/N) is your last name. Here is the song, I know I didn’t put the lyrics to it, but I couldn’t put the plot into them, so I just wrote something. Sorry for taking so long, I was really clueless on how to write it. @ilovebeingjoyful loves Steve so I’m tagging her :)

“Steve, baby…” You said with a guilty look in your face “I may have done the most reckless thing in the world…” You bit your lower lip while you kept your hands behind you because you had something to hide. “Man, this was not my idea” Sam defended himself with his hands up to his chest “She thought of it all along… but I may have taken her to the place” “Please don’t tell me you got a tattoo” Steve actually looked like an old dad reading that newspaper on the couch “(Y/N), don’t tell me you got a tattoo” “I guess I’m gonna leave you two alone” Sam kissed your temple and hurried to get out.   Steve had been your boyfriend for a while now; it wasn’t that long of a while but you still felt like it was forever. You loved him, you really did, but he was just so boring it killed you. You were not the adventurous type either, but you loved to go out and do some new things. Fortunately, Steve had the most outrageous group of friends that loved to do crazy shit.   This time it was Sam Wilson’s turn to join you in one of the craziness of yours. From the first time you met each other, you became really close; he was like a brother to you because he loved to do unplanned stuff and he could hear you out whenever you had those moments in which Steve could not get any more boring.   “(Y/N) (Y/L/N) what did you get?” Steve folded the paper and left it next to him. “Runes” You said, proudly showing your sore wrists that just had their share of ink. “And they mean?” He rose his blonde eyebrows. “This one is protection” You showed your right one and he examined it very closely; he was only missing the glass to look like a dad “And this one is movement” You showed him, trying to give him the hints “Sammy also got a tattoo, so we kinda had besties tattoos” “I mean, they look pretty but…” “It was either this or my constellation on my back” You pointed out “But you said it looked pretty to it doesn’t matter” You smiled widely and walked to the bedroom.   The next few days, between taking care of your new tattoos and going out with the female Avengers, you decided to give Steve the talk. You couldn’t bear the boredom of our life anymore. You needed to explore the world, and not be locked up in your apartment because he was afraid of you getting hurt or something of the sort.   You had packed your stuff already and left the bags on the living room. You had called Sam earlier that day of your farewell so he could pick you up and accept you back in his place (you two lived together before you went to live with Steve). You drank at least three cups of coffee before Steve arrived and the caffeine was getting into your system, but when he finally appeared through the door and saw the bags, he asked for an explanation immediately.   “Steve, I’m gonna leave you” You said bluntly; it was not the way you wanted to break down things to him “I can’t do this anymore… I feel like I’m stuck here with you” Your caffeine façade slowly started to disappear “I… I love you so much, but I can’t bear that the only thing that we do is cuddle and have sex. We don’t even try new stuff at sex! I have asked you a hundred times to dress up or getting tied up or whatever but you keep saying no” You bit your lip “I can’t live like this…” “You’re leaving me because I’m boring?” He asked, still not really getting the idea. “I’m leaving you because I’m bored… I can’t believe that to do something fun and different I had to go to a shooting range with Natasha and Maria… Steve, I do love you because you are great… But this is unbearable” He sighed, knowing that you were right and he hadn’t done anything to keep the fire alive “I’ll be with Sam just so you know… Think about it and think if you don’t want to lose me” You leaned forward to kiss his lips one last time. It broke your heart to do it, but eventually it’ll be for the best to see if Steve was actually willing to change his ways for you.

The Magic Feat

Request:  Bucky x reader please :) They’re friends but have feelings for each other. When they’re watching a film reader takes her bra off under her shirt & he’s amazed. She can’t believe he’s impressed given all the things he can do. Fluff to end please.

Word Count: 1,402

Contains: Fluff and a baffled Bucky. Cuteness all around.

A/N: Fluffy Bucky for you all! Hope you enjoy :) 

Bucky stepped into the living room, concern in his eyes. “Where’s everyone?” he asked you.

After muting the television, you swallowed the bite of cereal you had been chewing on before replying. “They’re on a mission.”

“And they couldn’t have told me about it?” Bucky’s voice was laced with annoyance.

You scoffed. “They don’t need to report everything to you, Barnes.”

“I know, but I’d like to know where they are,” he huffed out. “And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Bucky?”

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A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?

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Complete Series! { ao3 link }

✵ indicates smut! 25-29 have some spice however, just not a full on smut scene :)

77.5k words total :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 16.5 - Bonus

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

Part 25

Part 26

Part 27 ✵

Part 28

Part 29

Thank you everyone to came on the journey! And welcome to all the new readers, I hope you enjoy!

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My ACOTAR Writing Masterlist

Good Enough - Steve Rogers

N/A: I hope that you’re feeling better now! And if you don’t you can talk with me if you’d like! 

(Masterlist)

Nearly six months of relationship, six months of new feelings and situations, six months being Captain America’s girlfriend. You were really happy alongside Steve Rogers, in fact, you’ve never been so happy before. Steve was really a good man, even with his flaws, everything made him the hero he was. Everything about him remembered how he was special … and how you were so simple. While Steve was born to greatness, to make a difference and participate in the important role of saving the innocent… You felt you were just a worker ant inside the huge anthill. You had no super powers, you had no super intelligence or was a spy or former assassin. You weren’t an important political office nor was a famous celebrity. You were just you.

You sighed heavily, looking to the clock hanging on the wall of the bakery where you worked, it was almost 7 pm and your second shift would soon end. And you would have to go home and face those blue eyes. It had been a month since you started working the two shifts at the bakery, including asking for your boss to help you with the excuse that it was necessary that the submanager had to be all the time in the store. It was a pathetic excuse, but at least there you felt you belonged somewhere. The store returned to fill with new customers as it was getting late, making your mind stay again busy with work and away from your inner problems. You moved from one side to the other, taking orders from everyone and asking for new products to the front of the store until Camille - one of the attendants and your greatest confidant - came to where you were in the store background with a worried expression.

“He’s here, (Y/N).” she whispered, while she adjusted your hair automatically. “And he looks concerned.”

You took a deep breath, straightening your shoulders before forcing a relaxed smile and march to where Steve was standing at the counter. By spending more time away working, you could better hide your emotions, but you felt guilty because Steve didn’t deserve it. He had no fault to be what he was and that you couldn’t reach the same level as him. You leaned on the counter to stretch and reach the face of the super soldier kissing his cheek and making him smile.

“Hey, soldier.”

“Doll, I was worried… Will you take a lot to go home?“ Steve put a hand to your face, stroking your cheek and then placing one of your strands hair behind your ear.

“Huh, sorry, I completely lost the time… I’ll go home soon.“ you smiled weak and Steve just nodded.

“I need to go on a meeting at Stark right now, but when you get home you send me a message?” he leaned over and kissed your forehead, you nodded silently and gave a brief ‘see you’ watching him leave the store.

You needed to leave.

Once you got inside the apartment you shared with Steve, you went straight toward the closet, grabbing your bag and throwing your things in it and then close it. You’ve thought about taking a shower and change your uniform for a warmer clothes, but afraid that Steve could get home you just picked up your bag and left. After locking the apartment, you picked up a paper and wrote a direct explanation before passing the key and the paper under the door. While you walked away from the building, you didn’t know if it was the crying or the cold that was making you shiver.

“(Y/N), I’m home!” 

Steve hummed when entering the dark apartment, finding it strange to have no answer, he turned on the light and closed the door. He sought you throughout the apartment, calling out your name and felling his chest tighten even more. It was then that he noticed the key and paper near the door, walking with long strides and ducking to get, Steve felt his body freeze when he read the message.

‘You deserve someone better. I’m sorry, but it’s better this way.’

Steve didn’t think twice, rising quickly and opening the door, he ran toward the street. It was cold and snowing, you couldn’t have gone far if you were walking. He walked for 20 minutes. For 20 minutes, he wondered what he had done wrong and blamed himself for not having noticed that you were unhappy. But he loved you and he would do anything to fix what he had done wrong, he would do anything to make you happy again. Then he saw you lying in the street banks, near the bus stop, your suitcase on the floor and snow beginning to cover you. Steve ran toward you, horrified watching the scene before him. He gently took you in his arms and then easily held your bag, walking back to the apartment in silence. The super soldier held you tight against him, trying to warm your delicate body. You didn’t move because of the cold and it worried him. He didn’t want to lose you for something like this. He wouldn’t stand. While you were unconscious, Steve took off your wet clothes and gave you a hot bath, then he dressed you with his warm clothes and laid you in bed with some quilt layers to keep you warm. He made sure to pack your stuff back in the closet before lying down at your side and snuggle you against him. Steve just fell asleep when he felt that your body was already in a safe temperature and that you were sleeping due to exhaustion.

“(Y/N)? Honey? Darling? Baby? Doll?” Steve whispered in his ear, trying to wake you gently, still feeling his heart tighten worriedly, but then sighing relieved to see you open your eyes lazily.

“W-what? Steve?” you asked sleepily for a second holding your breath and automatically trying to get away from him, but Steve held you in his arms preventing you from leaving.

“Don’t… (Y/N), look, I’m sorry. I know it’s my fault, but-”

“No, Stevie, you are perfect! The problem is… I’m not good enough… You need someone to pitch to live in your world… you … I-I …” you didn’t know what to say, feeling your eyes fill with tears, you choked slightly trying to hold back a sob. Steve watched you painfully, hugging you tighter and allowing you to hide your face in his chest.

“So this is the problem? (Y/N)… You’re everything to me… You’re what brings me down to earth. You’re what makes me sober amidst all the craziness that’s my life. Remember when we first met? You saw me as Steve, you saw me just like another man trying to flirt with you and you said no… And slapped me! At that moment I was sure that you were the woman of my life." he murmured, stroking your hair and your  back in an attempt to calm your crying and end your insecurities. If he had known before, if he had noticed… You’d never fell those things. Steve sealed the top of your head and sighed. "I love you, (Y/N). And when I say this, I mean it.”

“Are you sure?” you whispered, raising your face to look at Steve, your eyes looking for him to try to see any hint of regret, but you just found love and care. “I don’t have super powers nor am hyper intelligent, or rich or anything…”

“Hey, I love you because you’re just you.” Steve smiled tenderly, stroking your face with one hand and briefly kissed your lips, pulling out a small smile from you. “And that’s good enough for me.”

Great

Home - a Captain America/Steggy fanfic

WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH

So I had this idea after seeing the trailer for Civil War, and some people saying Steve might actually die. And I wondered, can a super soldier die? And what goes through Steve Rogers’ mind, when he realizes he’s dying? Morbid, I know, but then I thought of something that could be done for him, by someone on his team, in the last minutes of his life (Just a warning that I didn’t do too much research on this person’s powers, just based it off of the MCU ‘verse).

Also, this scene resonated with me, and heavily influences this story:

Rating: K

Words: 638

Summary: In which we find out that super soldiers can die, and a priceless gift is given.

WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH

Czytaj dalej

I'm Not a Pin-Up Girl

Summary: Steve tries to comfort the you because you’re self-conscious about your figure since everyone expects Captain America to be with a pin-up girl.

Word Count: 1245

Warnings: negative body image

Female Reader!

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