#I guess it could just be like...peril

[docholligay]

Nina, you are fucked.

Please read me before commenting or sending an ask!

[brionysea]

i wanna write my season 4 fic but i don't wanna retread canon scenes because i just think that's boring (possibly more to me as a writer than to readers, idk, i haven't thought about it that deeply) but because of its nature as a limited canon rewrite and some of the components being changed certain scenes NEED to be retreaded but i'm still like if i don't care will anyone else??? also it's just not as fun playing with scenes that have basically already happened because the things the characters say and do are already set in stone and diverging from that too heavily would be weird when this is a fic that's literally striving to emulate canon but also just lifting lines isn't Fun for anyone because we've all Seen that scene already. like??? ugh

[solxamber]

I loved the platonic Malleus helps Yuu get Idia fic and I was wondering if you could so something similar with Cater or Trey or Vil or Leona or Floyd? You can choose, anything like that would be amazing my liege.

you asked and i answered, i love this concept so much

Fae Courtship 101: Romance for Dummies || Floyd Leech

In your desperation to confess to Floyd, you made the grave mistake of recruiting Malleus for help—now the only thing you’re courting is death.

For reasons beyond mortal comprehension—beyond your own comprehension—you have fallen for Floyd Leech.

Floyd. Leech.

The man who treats personal space like a suggestion, bites people for fun, and once chased a first-year across campus while laughing like a slasher villain because he was “bored.”

The man who once tried to sell you to Azul in exchange for a really nice hat. The man who could, at any given moment, be contemplating something as simple as “what’s for lunch” or something as horrifyingly chaotic as “what if I threw the prefect off the third-floor balcony to see how they bounce?”

It’s a bad idea. Objectively, scientifically, in every single way, this is a mistake.

Grim and Deuce have been holding interventions. The ghosts of Ramshackle have been looking at you like they’re already preparing to welcome you into their ranks. You're rapidly losing the moral high ground in any discussion about Ace’s bad life choices.

But the heart wants what it wants. And unfortunately, yours wants to make terrible decisions.

Which brings you here, pacing alongside Malleus Draconia, crown prince of Briar Valley, king of ominous nighttime strolls, and your designated therapist for the evening.

“I just—I don’t get it, Malleus!” you wail, gesturing wildly as you stomp through the moonlit campus. “I should like normal people! People who don’t consider attempted murder to be a love language! I should have instincts!”

Malleus hums in thought. “Hm. Concerning.”

“Exactly!” You throw your hands up. “I should be running in the opposite direction! Instead, I’m over here, wondering if he’d bite me gently if I asked nicely!”

Malleus stops walking.

You stop too, looking over to see him gazing at you with a carefully neutral expression. There’s a brief silence. A beat. And then, slowly—gravely—he nods.

“Understood.”

You blink. “...Huh?”

He turns to you with the air of a man who has just accepted a sacred duty. “You have chosen a perilous path, Child of Man.”

You stare. “I—??"

“But fear not,” he continues, raising a hand to his chest in solemn promise. “I shall help you attain your romance.”

Silence.

A breeze rolls through the courtyard. A crow caws in the distance. Somewhere, Grim is experiencing a deep sense of foreboding.

“…You’re going to what?”

Malleus nods again, expression determined. “Leave it to me.”

You suddenly have so many regrets.

Grim looks at you the way a doctor looks at a patient about to flatline. Gravely. With pity. With deep concern for the irreversible damage.

"Okay, listen hench-human, I’ve let a lot of things slide, but this? This I gotta ask—do you hate life that much?"

You blink at him. "What?"

Grim waves his little paws dramatically. "First, you fall for Floyd of all people. That’s already a death wish. And now, you’re actually listening to Malleus for dating advice? What’s next? You gonna ask Kalim for tips on financial responsibility?!"

You open your mouth. Close it. You… okay, you really have no defense. But before you can say anything—

There’s a knock at the door.

And you don’t even have to guess who it is.

You open it to find Malleus standing there, his expression set in earnest determination. In his hands is a book that looks older than your grandmother. The kind of ancient tome that looks like it holds dark secrets, forbidden spells, possibly even a recipe for soup made from human souls.

Standing right next to him, grinning like a goblin, is Lilia.

You feel your soul leave your body.

"Ah, Child of Man," Malleus intones. "I have found it. The ultimate guide to fae courtship rituals. You shall use these techniques to win the heart of your eel."

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Lilia cackles. "Do you know how long it's been since I’ve seen these methods in action? The devastation! The absolute carnage!"

You stare at them. You stare into the abyss. The abyss grins back.

Grim looks at you, his face a perfect picture of someone watching a loved one make the worst life decisions in real time.

"You’re really doin’ this, huh?"

…You sigh. "Yeah. I’m really doing this."

You are simply minding your own business, walking to class like a normal person, when you spot Floyd approaching from the other end of the hallway.

As always, you smile at him, because you have fully accepted your fate as a fool with horrible taste in men. You expect him to either grin back or threaten to suplex you for fun—classic Floyd things.

What you do not expect is the sudden sensation of a phantom hand shoving you forward.

And just like that, gravity wins.

You crash into Floyd with all the grace of a drunk goose, smacking into his chest with enough force to send both of you stumbling. Floyd barely moves (because he is built like a problem), but you rebound like a cartoon character, nearly falling over before his hands land heavily on your shoulders.

For a brief, dizzying moment, you stare at him.

Then, slowly, your brain remembers what just happened, and you whip around—

Only to see Malleus standing at the end of the hallway, looking extremely pleased with himself.

He gives you a smug, regal nod.

He is also holding a book titled "How to Romance for Dummies."

You are going to throw hands with a literal prince.

Before you can implode, Floyd’s grip on your shoulders tightens. You turn back to him, only to find him looking entirely too displeased about being your impromptu landing pad.

“Shriiiimpy,” he drawls, squinting at you like a judge in a courtroom drama. “What’s up with that, huh? Tryna tackle me first thing in the morning?”

“I—I tripped!” you stammer, trying to collect the shreds of your dignity. “I didn’t mean to crash into you, I swear!”

Floyd hums, unconvinced. Then, after a beat of consideration, he shrugs.

“Aaah, whatever.” His fingers dig just slightly into your shoulders, a slow grin stretching across his face. “You still ran into me, soooo… you owe me.”

You blink. “Wait. Owe you?”

“Mhm!” His grin widens, teeth sharp. “Now ya gotta hang out with me today.”

You blink again. Slowly. You could argue, but you have a sneaking suspicion that it won’t get you anywhere, and honestly? Maybe this is exactly the opening you need.

Maybe… Malleus isn’t that bad at this.

You take that last thought back immediately.

Because not even a day after that whole hallway fiasco, Malleus finds you again, pulls you aside with all the gravitas of an ancient ruler about to bestow divine wisdom, and insists that, in order to properly court Floyd, you must—

Compliment Floyd’s strength three times. At first, you thought, okay, easy enough, I can just tell him he’s strong and call it a day. But then—THEN—Malleus, in his infinite wisdom, handed you a quill and parchment and declared, “It must be in verse. Poetry carries the weight of true devotion.”

And now, here you are.

Standing in front of Floyd Leech. Holding a piece of paper with the most cringe-inducing attempt at poetry you've ever written in your life.

Floyd, to his credit, was already giggling the moment you approached with a look of sheer suffering. But when you clear your throat and attempt to actually read the thing—

"Oh mighty Floyd, with hands so bold—"

He just. Loses it.

Absolutely wheezing, doubling over, practically using you as a support beam to keep himself upright.

You glare at him and continue, determined to power through:

"A force unmatched, a tale retold—"

Floyd: "PFT—!!!"

He’s straight-up crying at this point. Tears. You swear you hear Jade laugh somewhere in the distance.

You don’t even make it to the third compliment. You just turn on your heel and walk away before your soul crumples in on itself like a dying star.

Malleus, watching from afar, sighs in clear disappointment. “You lack dedication,” he murmurs, shaking his head like an elder watching the youth fail at life.

You absolutely regret everything.

You don't know why you keep letting Malleus give you advice. Actually, no—that's a lie. You do know. It's because the second he heard you liked Floyd, his eyes lit up like he’d just been given a personal quest by the divine forces of romance, and now he refuses to rest until your love is secured.

Unfortunately, this means you are currently locked in yet another horrendous discussion about fae courting rituals.

"Scent-marking is a vital step in courtship," Malleus declares with the kind of grim authority that should be reserved for battlefields, not this. "He must recognize you as his."

You blink at him. "Oh, like giving him my hoodie or something?" That’s normal. That’s doable. That’s the kind of thing people do when they like each other, right? You’ve seen couples swap sweaters before. Maybe Malleus is finally onto something not-insane.

Malleus shakes his head gravely. "No. You must present him with something you have personally scented. Ideally, by rolling upon it."

Silence.

Rolling upon it.

You stare at him. He stares back. Completely serious.

You try to process what he’s just suggested. What he has just, with full sincerity, told you to do.

"Malleus."

"Yes?"

"You want me to roll around on an object like a dog and then give it to Floyd."

"Precisely."

You briefly consider just walking into the ocean.

It takes twenty full minutes to talk him down from this absolute lunacy and convince him that simply giving Floyd a sweater you’ve worn will do the job just fine. He looks at you the way a disappointed coach looks at a failing athlete.

"If you are not dedicated to the craft," he mutters, "you cannot expect great results."

You pretend you don’t hear him.

Fast forward to the next day, and you are sitting in class next to Floyd, who is draped over his desk in a deep and powerful boredom coma.

You pull out the sweater and awkwardly nudge it toward him.

"Here."

Floyd immediately perks up. Dangerously interested. He tilts his head, peering at the sweater like you’ve just handed him a rare treasure.

"Eh? What's this?"

"It's mine. You can have it," you say, trying to play it cool, despite the fact that your entire soul is trying to flee your body from embarrassment.

Floyd picks up the sweater and—without hesitation—presses his face into it.

You almost die. Right then and there. Instant expiration.

He leans back in his chair, grinning way too wide. "Heheh~ You smell nice, shrimpy~"

You barely manage to hold onto your composure. You are barely hanging on.

Malleus, watching from the hallway, narrows his eyes and mutters, "It is not the worst effort... but it lacks the impact of true commitment."

You ignore him. You ignore everything. You're just grateful that—for once—this wasn’t completely unhinged, and that Floyd somehow seems to like it.

"Nothing says romance like a meal made with your own two hands!" Lilia declares, slamming an ancient, definitely cursed cookbook onto the table.

You blink down at it. The title is in some language that makes your vision swim just looking at it. The edges are charred, the pages stained with substances you’re 70% sure are not food-safe, and Malleus—Malleus Draconia himself, looks a little unsure.

That should have been your first hint.

But you? A fool. An idiot. A desperate, love-struck buffoon? You press forward.

“Alright,” you sigh, rubbing your temples, already regretting this. “What ingredients do I need?”

Lilia beams, flipping to a page that looks like it came from an alchemist’s horror novel.

"Let's see! We’ll need:"

• Moonshade Truffle,

• A pinch of Sablethorn Dust,

• Three drops of Evernight Basilisk Extract,

• Seven Tears of a Joyful Banshee,

• And a Love-Smitten Fire Spirit’s Breath!

…

You stare.

"Lilia."

"Yes, beastie?"

"These sound like potion ingredients."

"Oh-ho!" Lilia chuckles, waving a hand. "You humans always get so caught up in technicalities. But what is cooking if not a kind of magic?"

…No. No, this is actual magic. You are not making a love potion, but this sure as hell sounds like one.

But, like the fool you are, you go along with it. You spend far too much money (your entire savings) at Azul’s Most Definitely Not a Scam Emporium for all of these ridiculous ingredients. He knows you’re up to something dumb. He does not care. He simply profits.

And now, here you are. In the Ramshackle kitchen. Grim watches from a safe distance behind a chair. Malleus stands off to the side with his arms crossed, looking like he is rethinking his life choices. And Lilia, that menace, is watching you mix the ingredients like a proud mentor.

Everything is going fine. Suspiciously fine.

And then—

"Alright, time to bake it!" Lilia claps his hands. "It says here to bake at 350 for 20 minutes!"

You nod. This is reasonable.

"However!" He flips the page. "In the olden days, we used a slightly different method."

Malleus frowns. Your stomach drops.

"Instead of 350 for 20 minutes…" Lilia hums. "It says here—750 for 10!"

…

"What."

"Don’t be shy! Give it a try!" Lilia gestures for you to do it.

Malleus shifts, looking like he wants to intervene. Grim is slowly backing out of the room. You ignore all of this.

Because you are an idiot.

You turn the oven to 750. You shove the pan inside. You watch in real-time as your dignity burns.

The oven makes a sound ovens should not make.

Something explodes. The smell is indescribable.

When you pull the pan out, it is a pile of pure, blackened charcoal.

You are horrified. Malleus looks concerned. Grim looks betrayed.

"Are ya tryin’ to kill me, Henchhuman?!" Grim yells. "I thought we were friends!"

But Lilia? Lilia is nodding approvingly.

"Ah," he sighs, nostalgic. "Just like how I remember it."

…This man should not be allowed in kitchens.

But you, an absolute buffoon, take the charred remains of your so-called courtship offering and bring it to Floyd anyway.

You find him in the cafeteria, dump the plate in front of him, and sit down. Defeated.

Floyd stares. Pokes it with a finger.

And then, he looks at you.

With pity.

"Shrimpy." His voice is gentle. You feel a chill of fear. "You goin' through hard times or somethin'?"

…

You die inside.

Your cooking was so bad that Floyd Leech—FLOYD LEECH—was feeling sympathy for you.

You have never known such shame.

You sit there, staring into the distance like a soldier who’s seen too much. A philosopher pondering the futility of existence. A person who has scent-marked a sweater and written poetry at the behest of a fae prince who thinks you’re simply not dedicated enough to the craft of love.

You are contemplating life, death, and the many, many decisions that have led you here.

And then, Jade sits beside you.

You don’t even flinch. You should. You should be wary. You should immediately launch yourself into the bushes and prepare to be interrogated in some terrifying eel version of psychological warfare. But you don’t. Because you have nothing left.

So you just turn your head slowly, look at him with the dull, hollow eyes of someone who’s really going through it.

Jade looks positively delighted.

"My, my," he says, in that syrupy, knowing voice of his. "What could possibly put you in such a state?"

You inhale. Exhale. Consider your options. Death is looking really attractive.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

Jade hums, obviously entertained, but then—then—he decides to make it worse.

"You know," he muses, "even Floyd has started to get concerned."

You blink.

"…Huh?"

"Oh, yes," he says, resting his chin on his hand, enjoying every second of this. "Between the odd gifts, the unusual behavior, and your general aura of suffering, even he has begun to notice. Which means you are being particularly obvious, because he rarely pays attention to anything that isn't entertaining."

You don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed.

"What’s your point?" you mutter.

Jade smiles like a predator about to land a final, devastating strike.

"You should simply tell him. Because this…?" He gestures vaguely at your soul-deep despair. "This is rather pitiful."

You stare.

You process.

And, somewhere in the depths of your heart, you realize he’s right.

You are in shambles.

Like, properly, horrifically, soul-crushingly in shambles. You’ve been through so much. You've spent weeks engaging in increasingly deranged behavior at the behest of a well-meaning yet hopelessly out-of-touch fae prince. You've endured ritual poetry readings, scent-marking disasters, and a culinary war crime that left you emotionally and financially bankrupt.

And now, standing in front of Floyd Leech—the very cause of your descent into insanity—you finally snap.

"I LIKE YOU!" you blurt, voice cracking like a cheap mirror. "I LIKE YOU AND I'VE BEEN ACTING LIKE A LUNATIC BECAUSE MALLEUS SAID I HAD TO FOLLOW FAE COURTSHIP RITUALS AND I—" your voice hiccups, borderline hysterical, "—I THINK I LOST A PIECE OF MY SOUL WHEN I TRIED TO BAKE THAT DAMN CAKE BUT IT'S FINE, BECAUSE APPARENTLY THAT'S JUST WHAT LOVE IS??? AND I DID IT ALL FOR YOU, FLOYD, BECAUSE I AM A DUMB IDIOT WHO LIKES YOU FOR SOME REASON."

You gasp for air, because this has been a lot.

And Floyd?

Floyd is laughing.

Not just a chuckle, either. No, this menace of a man is bent over, hands on his knees, actually wheezing with mirth as if you’ve just performed the comedy routine of the century. His shoulders shake. His teeth glint in the light. He looks absolutely delighted.

And you? You just stand there, a broken, hollow shell of a human being.

"You should’ve just told me, Shrimpy~!" he cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. "I like you too, y’know?"

...

There’s a moment of silence as your poor, battered brain struggles to process this information.

"WHAT."

Floyd grins, like you haven’t just endured weeks of psychological torment at the hands of a dragon prince. "I mean, you’re fun! You make me laugh, and I like squeezin’ ya. ‘Course I like ya!"

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, he lunges forward and grabs you in a hug so tight that your ribs beg for mercy. You are crushed, consumed, engulfed in the sheer force of his affection. Your spine may never recover, but at this point, what’s another injury to your dignity?

And honestly? You don’t care.

Because he likes you.

Floyd likes you back.

Which means—you realize, tears pricking your eyes in relief—you never have to perform another insane fae courtship ritual again.

No more humiliating poetry. No more dubious scent-marking. No more playing Russian roulette with your digestive system in the name of romance. You did it. You won.

And then Floyd leans down, cups your face, and kisses you.

It's a little rough, a little overwhelming, but you melt into it anyway, because Sevens, you earned this.

Somewhere in the distance, Malleus Draconia watches from the shadows.

Arms crossed, nodding sagely, he looks upon his greatest success.

"My expert techniques," he murmurs, pride swelling in his voice, "have secured my child of man their eel."

Behind him, Lilia wipes an imaginary tear.

"Beautiful," he sighs.

Masterlist

[ode-to-melpomene]

hi hi mel!!! i love all your works and your writing is so wonderful ^^

was wondering if you could write something where one of the bat boys reaches the reader right before they’re about to get kidnapped by some criminals?? like maybe they’re publicly in a relationship w the batboy’s wayne identity n get targeted for that reason but one of the boys gets there js in the nick of time :)

thank u sm and have a great rest of ur day ^^

Love this prompt! Some of these are pre-kidnapping, some are mid-kidnapping. If anyone wants additional characters added, let me know! Hope you enjoy 💛

Daring Rescues

Pairings: Bruce Wayne x gn!reader, Dick Grayson x gn!reader, Jason Todd x gn!reader, Tim Drake x gn!reader Synopsis: Who comes to your aid when you find yourself in need of saving? Word Count: 2466 Warnings: Established relationship! Kidnapping, minor injuries, general mortal peril.

Bruce Wayne:

Bruce knew better than to associate you with Batman. He had learned that lesson a hundred times over by now, how dangerous it was to associate the people he cared for with the cowl. But now wasn't the time to dwell on the blunder.

“Oracle, update,” he barked over the communication device. Bruce perched atop a balcony, staring down at the street below.

“Black SUV turning onto Carlton,” Barbera replied, the sound of her fingers furiously working over the keys of the Batcomputer meeting his ears. “The car is registered to a loan shark put away a few years ago. Suspected ties to Falcone.”

Bruce uttered a grunted mm in response, eyes narrowed beneath the cowl. His eyes scanned the road below. He caught the sounds of sirens wailing in the distance. “GCPD?”

“I’ve got them cutting off side roads. Headed your way now.”

He squared his shoulders and prepared himself to launch from the balcony, one hand braced on the ledge beneath him and the other on his belt. He cocked his head to the East and narrowed his eyes- yes, there. He watched the SUV turn the corner, skidding as it spun around the sharp turn and narrowly avoided oncoming traffic.

“Sixty-three miles an hour?” he guessed.

“Sixty-six. Sounds like you might be losing your touch.”

“Oracle,” Bruce warned. He scowled. That extra speed would change his entry angle.

“Sorry. Dropping in three-”

Bruce’s hand shot to his belt.

“Two-”

The end of the grappling hook shot out from the device in his hand and buried itself within the construction scaffolding across from him. He gave a single tug, then launched himself from the balcony-

“One-”

- And crashed feet first into the rear passenger window of the interior of the modified SUV, seats removed to provide more space in the back. Panicked shouts rang out as glass shards shattered across the interior. Bruce pulled his cape over the lower half of his face, preventing glass from cutting his skin as he hit the floor.

The vehicle swerved and he used the momentum to bring his elbow into collision with a man’s partially covered face, his jaw making a distressing crack at the impact. His other hand lashed out, grabbing the driver by his hair and slamming his face against the steering wheel. The driver’s nose crunched and blood sprayed against the vehicle’s dash.

Hands grasped at his suit and he drove his knee into the third assailant’s ribs, sending him stumbling backwards. Your muffled shriek filled the interior of the SUV as the vehicle swerved and momentarily rocked into the curb.

The driver’s hands gripped at Bruce’s wrist behind his head, his foot flooring the accelerator. Bruce let out a tsk as he lunged forward and looped his arm around the driver’s neck. The man’s shrill scream was quickly silenced as Bruce squeezed the man’s neck in the juncture of his elbow and bicep.

He pulled the man backwards and used his opposite hand to stabilize the chokehold. His freehand reached for the steering wheel, guiding the vehicle down the road. He just needed a moment-

The driver finally went limp in Bruce’s arms. He tugged, pulling the man from his seat and wedged a batarang against the brake, quickly bleeding off speed.

Muffled screams filled the room, followed by a grunt of pain. Familiar hands raked over Bruce’s belt. He gripped the wheel with one hand and turned his head just in time to see a zap of electricity come to life.

You dove towards the third kidnapper, barreling into him and driving the taser into the side of his neck. The man screamed, spasmed, and went limp.

You panted around the gag in your mouth, your hands chained together in front of you. You held the taser tightly in your hands, glaring down with a fiery expression.

When you turned your gaze on him, that fiery passion was replaced with a soft, mirthful glint in your eye. You gave him your best smile, despite the gag, and a cheesy thumbs up.

Bruce scowled, despite the way his heart skipped a beat.

Dick Grayson:

Why did you always have to rush into things?

Of course it was a set up. That was so obvious now that you had a split lip and blood trickling from your nose. It was a last ditch effort on the part of some petty criminals who wanted a piece of the Wayne wealth in exchange for Dick’s hapless partner.

The masked goons cornered you in your own apartment, toying with you like cats stalking a mouse. One swung a pipe wrench and you skittered backwards, nearly bumping into the end table next to your couch. You really needed to move that when this was all over, and make sure the space was less cluttered so you wouldn’t get tripped up like this again-

A blade came slashing down, glinting in the waning sunlight that filled your apartment as it narrowly missed your face. Your curse was met by vicious laughter. With a snarl, you gripped the end table and hucked it at the figure holding the blade. 

Two of the goons jumped away from the end table as it flung towards them. You took the chance to dash to the kitchen, knocking over and tossing random items in your wake. As much as you appreciated the self defense training Dick had put you through, you didn’t trust yourself against their weapons. You took solace in knowing they weren’t here to kill you… but that didn’t mean they weren’t more than willing to rough you up.

You just needed to waste some time. So you threw a plate, a beautiful, arbor rimmed plate that had been a gift to you and Dick from Selina and Bruce (you suspected Selina stole them.) The assailants dodged the ceramic, so you snatched the detachable faucet and sprayed the nearest goon in the face with cold water. Too bad they were smart enough to wear masks.

And then you saw the balcony door slide open. It all happened so fast, a flash of black, blue, and silver darting into the space. Metal clashed with skin, a sickening thunk sounding as an escrima collided with an attacker’s skull. An angered shout tore through the air, only to be quickly silenced by a thud as the outspoken figure hit the floor.

It was over in a matter of moments. Three unconscious bodies on the floor, tucked out of sight behind your kitchen island, and a shadowed figure huffing agitated breaths through gritted teeth. Spots of blood on the escrima, on his face.

You blinked once, twice, clearing the fog from your vision. Nightwing- Dick loomed across from you. He tucked the escrimas behind his back and turned to face you, the scrunch in his brow covered by his mask.

“Are you alright?” you asked, voice barely above a tremble.

His expression softened immediately. He heaved a sigh and dashed around the kitchen island, sweeping you into his tight grasp. You wrapped your arms around him just as eagerly, pressing your face to the stretchy fabric of his suit.

“Should be asking you that, love.” Dick pulled away slightly, holding you at arms length. Though you couldn’t see his eyes through his mask, you knew he was carefully taking stock of your injuries.

“Just a few scrapes,” you said with a reassuring smile in spite of the way your swollen lip burned. “You should see the other guys.”

Dick barked out a laugh and pulled you flush against him once again, burying you in a tight embrace.

Jason Todd:

You should have called a cab.

Rain poured down on you, drenching you to the skin. Rain hadn’t been on the forecast today–you always made sure to check on days you chose to walk to-and-from work. When you had stepped out of the office building to find a slight drizzle dappling the sidewalk, you had thought nothing of it. Like many other Gothamites, you had assumed it was a passing spring weather.

Now the storm drains gurgled pitifully as water gushed into it. Your clothes were sodden, shoes waterlogged, mood dampened. You squelched down the sidewalk with a sour expression plastered across your features. The torrential downpour quieted your sentences, muffling your ears to the acute sound of footsteps following you from a distance.

You turned onto the next block and huffed, the wind now buffeting you face on. What a dreary, horrible day to be let off late from work. Jason would likely be on patrol by now, leaving you to sit alone in your shared apartment, reheating whatever he had left over from lunch. Maybe you could curl up in your bed and dive into that novel you had both been reading. That could make for a good conversation to wind him down from the emotional high of his patrol-

Foreign hands snatched you from your thoughts and dragged you into a dark alley, your scream muffled by a gloved palm.

You were slammed face first into a brick wall, the rough texture scraping your cheek. You bit back a snarl as the hands turned you around and smacked the back of your head against the hard stone. The chill edge of a blade was pressed to your throat and when your eyes readjusted to the sudden darkness and stinging pain in your head you were met with a masked figure. Great, because what you really needed after a long day was a mugging.

You fought viciously as the figures around you herded you down the back alley like a spitting, snarling animal. You stomped your heel on their feet, bit at their hands, kicked and flailed until you heard muffled requests for rope and chloroform. It wasn’t until you saw the van tucked away beside an industrial grade dumpster that you began caterwauling like an anguished banshee.

You were relieved by the sound of a familiar thump at the edge of the alleyway–you would recognize the sound of those heavy boots dropping anywhere, with how often you heard them on your fire escape. Your attackers slammed you against the van and you barked out a gleeful laugh at the sight. The attackers had a moment to turn their heads before Red Hood was descending on them with ferocity. You turned away, pressing your forehead to the van.

Screams, bones cracking, bodies hitting the ground. It was over quickly. When you turned to face him, his armored chest was heaving and he clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. You knew better than to touch him when he was this high strung, so you settled for the safer option.

“Took you look enough,” you teased breathlessly, keeping your gaze one the way the red surface of his helmet snapped to face you instead of on the (you hoped) unconscious kidnappers. “I was starting to wonder if I was going to have to take care of this myself.”

The toe of Jason’s boot nudged an unconscious figure, a red and rapidly welting bite mark blossoming on the individual’s hand and wrist. “I don’t doubt you could’ve, but a little help never hurt.”

You cracked a smile, softening the hard lines of your expression in the hopes it would ease him. His shoulders relaxed at your placating gesture. You extended a hand, fingers spread in a silent offer.

“Walk me home?” you asked, more for his benefit than yours. Your heart still pounded in your chest, but the tightness eased when he interlaced his gloved fingers with yours.

Tim Drake:

Warehouses were such a cliché place to harbor an abductee. What happened to creativity? Tim crawled through an upper window of the dilapidated warehouse, some thirty feet above the ground. He stepped carefully across the rafters as he surveyed the scene.

There you were, a normal college student tied to a chair–well, normal if you ignore the fact that you were rumored to be in a relationship with the Timothy Drake-Wayne. He frowned at the sight of your arms twisted behind you and tied to the back of the chair. They had you situated in the center of the empty room with goons patrolling around you. His eyes sought a singular figure atop a pile of scrap, a rifle in hand. The figure searched the rafters–Tim would have to be careful to avoid him.

Tim stalked across the rafters, keeping to the shadows. He crept across one of the beams that bridged the center of the warehouse, ducking low and staying out of the light. His eyes were fixed on you-

Oh. You perked up, your head lifting and shoulders easing. You knew he was there somewhere, judging by the way your head turned slightly to scan the open room. You tilted your head, a flimsy gesture towards a second figure, patrolling near you with one hand tucked away in her coat. A hidden weapon? He bit back a smile at your clever aid.

Tim took another step, and something clanged. He looked below him, spotting a hook hanging from a long chain, the chain swinging under the beams subtle movements. He turned just in time to see the sniper swing his rifle in the direction of the sound-

You screamed.

The shrill shriek shook each of the assailants and all eyes turned to you. He exhaled a harsh breath of relief as you wailed and the masked figures moved in towards you. The sniper’s weapons whipped towards you and away from Tim.

Tim dropped. His landing was cushioned by the goon you had pointed out, knocking the figure to the ground. He used the momentum to carry himself into a roll, then launched to his feet and barrelled into the next unsuspecting kidnapper. This one was ready, his hands up in fists. Tim gave an opening and ducked as the man’s fist sailed past Tim. He gripped the attacker's arm and yanked, tossing him over Tim’s shoulder. The man landed with a thunk and Tim was quick to follow, extracting a pair of cuffs from his belt and linking the two fallen attackers together.

A shot rang out. It seemed the sniper wasn’t very good, considering Tim remained fully intact. His hands dipped to his belt again and withdrew a few batarangs. A quick volley knocked the sniper's mask askew and sent them stumbling down the rickety pile of scrap they stood upon. He used the opening to launch himself across the room, bo staff extending in hand. He swept the kidnapper’s legs, sending the figure tumbling down the pile.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked as he knelt to cuff and gag the attacker, kicking the rifle aside in the process.

“It got drafty,” you called back from where you sat tied in the center of the room. “Must’ve left the window open.”

[whiskeyskin]

Different kind of Intimacy

Premise: After Astarion's confession at Moonrise, you decide that your usual style of feeding just won't cut it any more.

• Astarion x gn!Tav • Mild rating •

Reader POV, fluff, conversation about boundaries set, sweetness, understanding, softness, Astarion feeding, despite female in the inspo picture no mention of gender, love, security, intimacy, doped out Astarion

2.3k words

Shoutout to @ladyofthecreed for this beautiful piece of art for @aevallare! How stunning is it? 🥹💜 And thanks to @crepsley for the tag 🙌

This is a little different than my usual smutty style but I saw this picture and felt inspired to write something a little softer for our boy ☺️

Just saw this has over 1k notes 🥹 Thank you all, my darlings! 😚✨

•°•°•

"You can feed on me tonight, if you'd like." You offered with a smile.

"I was so hoping you'd say that." He lilted back to you.

You took a breath to speak again and stopped.

"Yes, my sweet. What is it?" He questioned, with a curious tilt of his head.

After the incident with the Drow at Moonrise yesterday, Astarion had confessed some deep feelings and troubles he'd had.

After he'd admitted his growing feelings for you, despite it starting out as a manipulation, he'd stated very plainly that he didn't want anyone to think of him in terms of sex but that he still wanted to be with you.

So, you'd suggested that you'd become friends first, instead of lovers. That you would still be together but wouldn't have sex until he was ready, if he ever would be.

He'd obviously joked and tried to lessen the mood with a flippant remark but you'd learned him well enough to see he was appreciative of the gesture.

You'd pulled him into a hug, and after his inital shock, he'd held on so tightly he had been reluctant to let go.

He'd offered his hand to hold yours and a silent bond was made between you.

You'd been thinking on this development between you this last day since your conversation together. Pondering on ways to make him more comfortable, to give him more autonomy within the relationship.

Astarion had been very sweet and attentive throughout the day. Like something had settled within him, like something had slotted into place.

He'd stuck very close by you, while carefully adventuring through the perilous Shadowlands.

He'd also spotted something that would be valuable to you in a fight and gifted it to you; you didn't ask how he'd gotten it, even though you could probably guess.

During battle he'd taken a more protective and defensive role around you, instead of stealthy and offensive.

Several times throughout the day, he had slid his hand within yours and lightly squeezed - completely unprompted - just to feel the warmth of your skin.

"I've been thinking, about what you said last night, about not thinking of you in terms of sex," you started, his face pulled into an unsure expression, "It's nothing bad, it's that I've been thinking about how you feed. It's quite, sexually charged. Especially the way you feed. It's urgent and rough and-"

And now, it was time to settle down for the night, he'd dragged his bedroll to rest next to you. Producing a small potion from his pack, you assumed he was probably already hungry and needed to feed, hence your invitation, but you needed to discuss this first.

"-Rough? I thought I was being gentle. You've not said anything since that first night. I-" He sounded hurt, afraid he'd been causing you pain. You hushed his worries.

"That's not what I meant, I'm not making an issue of it, I promise. It's not something to be sorry for, it hasn't bothered me until now. I thought it was all part and parcel of the experience; foreplay, if you will?" You shrugged.

"I mean, you'd feed, get hard and then we'd usually fuck. But now I believe we need to re-think our approach." You explained further.

"This is real, just because it's not a sexual relationship, doesn't mean it's not real." You smiled, reassuring his doubts. He closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. Your heart squeezed as his cool cheek pressed further into the warmth.

"It's not that having sex wasn't out of desire for you. It's-it's complicated to explain," he signed with a furrowed brow, "I told you, that it's not that I'm not attracted to you, trust me," he smiled wickedly, you shook your head and went to speak but he cut across you to continue.

"You are wholly different to ones I've seduced before. This was of my own voilition, for one - although out of necessity as transactional protection but - things have changed. I've changed. You've made me see what I'm capable of. You've.." he paused, swallowing and looking around the vicinity for the right words.

"You've encouraged me. Had faith in me. Shown me kindness I've not felt in two centuries. I care for you in a way I thought impossible, but I don't know how to be with someone, without reliving the past.. But I desperately want this to be real, truly real." His claret eyes bore into yours, pleading and sad. You slowly raised your hand to cup the side of this face.

"The act of a vampire feeding on someone has been made inherently sexual. It's been fetishised, and so in turn, has the whole vampire thing. Which works to the vamp's advantage. I can't blame the people for it. Being bitten, being fed on is an intoxicating experience." You couldn't help but shudder at the memories of you both pressed together.

"For me too," He breathed, his neck tensing, "The feeling of feeding has no match."

You smiled softly and sighed, "Like you said, 'There's nothing more desirable in the world than a vampire'." You both pursed your lips in bitter resignation.

"So, to remedy this, we need to unsexualise it going forward," you continued, "Before feeding was all teeth and rubbing up against each other like animals. Now, it's going to be slow and intimate. Not sexual intimacy, true intimacy." You flattened you palm to your heart, to help illustrate your point to him.

"It'll be different to the enemies you drain on the road, or in battle. It's you and me, and that's special. We need to make it special." You smoothed the cool touch of his cheek under your thumb.

He swallowed and sat up, intrigued, "What did you have in mind, my dear?"

You certainly had had some ideas.

"Well, you've tried both of the 'best' places to feed from; the jugular and the femoral," you announced, gesturing to your neck and inner thigh, "But I was thinking of the wrist? It's a pretty neutral place to feed from."

"Sounds reasonable. It's certainly a slower feed than the neck, or thigh." He agreed with a head tilt, "Although they are an awful lot of fun." He said through tilted gaze and a dangerous grin, his hand gliding up your thigh to caress it.

Your stomach flipped from habit, but you squashed it down.

"Stop it," you chastised him with a gentle nose boop. He scrunched his face and let out a small, high chuckle. His hand relented to your knee, thumbing the seam where he'd stitched a hole for you.

"Feeding will be more about taking the time to connect with each other, without sex. It'll be slow, patient.. calming." You let out a long, cleansing breath and blinked slowly, to emphasise the point.

"Very well, then. Henceforth, I shall drink from your wrist when you're resting." He gave a tilted nod.

"Um, no. I was going to suggest feeding before sleep. I'd like to be present with you. Truly present with you. Not groggy from sleep, or blissed from sex. I'd like to be with you."

He looked taken aback, but interested, "Alright then.. feeding before rest," he said, testing the idea on his tongue. He seemed to measure it acceptable before asking, "Could I.. request something of you.. while I feed?" He asked, his words measured.

"Of course, darling." You answered enthusiastically, glad for his input.

"Would you.. play with my hair?" He requested, a little sheepishly, "I-I find it. It's not a sexual thing, before I always hated it but.. when you do it-it's.. comforting to me. I-I don't know why."

Your heart swelled and your eyes began to gently fill at the surprisingly sweet request.

"Of course, I will." You smiled, blinking back unexpected tears.

Astarion smiled back and took a faux breath and huffed it out in expectation.

"So, shall we, my dear?" He flourished a hand for you to lie down.

"We shall," you nodded, "How do you wish to do this?"

"Lying down would be fine." He suggested.

"If that's what you'd like." You began unfolding your leg from the crossed position to stretch it before laying down.

"Wait.." he stopped, then looked up through curious eyes, "What about this?" He asked, as he gently laid the side of his head down on your thigh.

You beamed, "That's nice.. wait-" You scooched a little more, "Lay on your back."

He did as he was told and shuffled around so the back of his head lay fully on the cushioning meat of your crossed leg, the other extended alongside his body.

You gazed down at him laying contentedly in your lap, "How's that?" You asked.

He manoeuvred himself to rest more squarely, testing the feeling, which he seemed to agree with.

"Comfortable."

"Which wrist?" You offered both in the air.

"Wrap your arms around, and I'll feed from your non-dominant one."

You leaned down more, rounding your spine so you weren't sat so upright. You cradled his head with your arms and let your wrists hang loose.

Astarion took your hand and wriggled himself within your arm's embrace, then looked up and smiled at you. Your own broadened across your face.

"Is this alright?"

He nodded, paused then crooked a finger at you.

You bent down a little more and he brought his fingers to tenderly grasp your chin and pulled you in for a delicate kiss, barely anything in comparison to others you had, but filled with a warmth and softness that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you." He breathed, "For thinking of this, for respecting my wishes."

The breath was stolen from your lungs and your chest ached. You couldn't deny it any longer. You were in love with him.

You didn't reply, you simply pressed a kiss to his forehead, "Eat up."

He paused again, looking like he was about to say something but decided against it. He took your hand and carefully pulled up the sleeve, before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply.

This was a little ritual he liked to do, like a fine wine; you have to smell the bouquet.

He chastely pecked several times at the thin blue lines on your inner wrist, before slowly sinking his fangs and drinking deeply.

The pain, while still present, was surprisingly minimal. Much less sharp than his usual snapping bite down on your neck, or inner thigh.

You rest your other arm on his chest, but quickly his other hand grasped your hand and placed it on his hair.

You grinned to yourself, "My mistake, sorry dear." You admonished yourself, giggling, while beginning to weave your fingers into his loose curls.

Astarion mumbled against your skin, something sassy no doubt, but it was hushed by the sensation of his hair being twisted between your deft fingers.

He moaned into your wrist but it wasn't with reverent pleasure, it was in contentment.. ease..

You stared down at the beautiful pale Elf laying in your lap, feeding gently on your life essence. His ears were lightly wiggling as he drank, latched onto skin.

You stifled a laugh, he was like a kitten nursing milk. It was too adorable. Of course, you'd never seen this angle to witness it before. It was beyond endearing.

He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed, slowly drinking his fill of your blood. His body language relaxed, instead of poised to pounce. The pace of his pulls against your wrist laboured and suckling.

Seeing him like this, calm and steady, instead of scared and jittering, unlocked a compartment of your heart you'd fervently kept closed off from the world.

Gods, you loved him.

You loved him so much you ached.

Your heart physically panged to see him so blissfully unbothered and relaxed.

You smoothed his locks like petting a contented animal. You brushed his hair out of his face, and twirled it between your fingers, then wove fingertips under the length, to massage the base of his skull.

Each movement illiciting a gratified sigh, his body sinking lower and lower into your lap.

After a while, your head started to feel woozy and your extremities were starting to go cold and numb.

"Astarion?" You whispered, gently rubbing your hand on his chest and tapping twice with your peace fingers, "That's enough, love."

He stirred, dazed from feeding. He clamped his two fingers on the puncture marks, as you reached for the healing potion from his pack to pour over them. A small drizzle and the marks were healed.

You took a steading breath and swigged the rest down to help with restoration of blood before a spell from Shadowheart in the morning.

Stoppering the empty bottle and placing it on the ground, Astarion's weight still lay heavy on your lap.

His lips and teeth dyed the colour of you, as he smiled dopily, eyes remaining closed.

You sat with him in the moment, returning to weave his white curls between your fingers. The vague warmth of your blood coarsing through him transferring back to you through skin contact.

Astarion let out a serene and easy sigh, his eyes heavy as he tried to open them.

"That felt.. very different." He whispered, almost like he was breathless.

You kissed your fingers that waited on his chest and pressed them to his temple. He kissed the air back at you, body still heavy and exhausted.

"I don't know how to describe it. My body feels heavy, but light.."

The light pulse of your blood through his dead veins was present again under the pads of your fingers.

"I assume this new feeding technique is a success then, dove?" You inquired, keeping your voice low.

Astarion swallowed thickly, the stain of blood still on his teeth. He licked his lips lethargicly, "Most certainly. I feel.. completely.. utterly.. totally.."

"I hope the end of this sentence is a good one." You teased at his lack of composure.

He let out a sharp exhale of amusement through his nose, "It is.." he muttered.

You smoothed the line of his jaw, careful to not touch his sensitive ears. You smiled at the recent memory of them twitching as he fed.

"Did you know your ears wiggle up and down when you feed?" You asked in soft merriment.

"I did not.." he replied, flexing his eyebrows slowly.

"It's very cute."

"I am not cute." He tried to exert, with not much conviction, "I am a terrible creature of the night, feeding on helpless victims. I am a monster. I am not cute." He posited in feigned outrage.

You gazed down at the soft, tortured, beautiful soul in front of you and quickly blinked back the tears that swelled.

"No, you're not my love.. and I promise one day you'll see yourself the way I see you." You beamed at him.

Astarion squeezed your had three times, you repeat it back. You take a shaking breath in and blow it out, smiling.

A different kind of intimacy.

•°•°•

Yo.. down here.. fancy some more? 👀

[rose-pearls]

The Perils of Love - Part 2

Did I already had an idea for the second part of The Perils of Love? Definitely and here it is! Thank you for all the comments and love I didn't think so many people would like it! I hope you like this chapter! Requests are also open!

Relations: Clarisse La Rue x reader (endgame), Luke Castellan x reader, platonic!Silena x reader, platonic!Percy Jackson x reader

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

The Perils of Love Taglist: @chadmeeksmartinswifey, @liv444me, @justanotherkpopstanlol, @taygrls, @10ava01, @2hiigh2cry, @lucycarlisleswife, @thekittyxo-blog, @ahh-chickens, @exactlycoralfox, @quackitysdrugdealer, @lafemmii, @flower-lise, @jaegerlisa1, @valenftcrush, @bdscsjhb, @niktwazny303, @llovvessssssssssssss, @etheriaaly, @spidergyall, @acourtofdeppressionandanxiety

It was quiet, far too quiet after having lived in the Hermes cabin for so long. A statue of Zeus was in the middle of the room, and you couldn’t help but think how vain you father must be to put a statue of himself in here. 

The afternoon had been chaotic, with Mister D and Chiron taking you away from the group to talk, Percy the only one allowed with you as you were now both children of the big three. After that they had sent you to your new cabin, you still had to retrieve your clothes and stuff from the Hermes cabin, but you just needed a moment. 

The quiet was suddenly broken by a loud whistle.

“Damn, Zeus really made an effort here,” you hear Clarisse say as she looks around, curious eyes looking around the room. She was right, it was much bigger than the other cabin’s you had seen with a living room when you entered and a second floor where multiple beds could be placed. It looked like a bank, mixed with lightening bolds and clouds drawn on the ceiling.

“He sure did, wonder why,” you can’t help but say, wondering for the hundredth time in the past hour why the God of Thunder had suddenly decided you were worth something.

There was a silence that accompanied your words before you felt the couch dip and the smell of woods filled your senses. 

“How are you doing?”, Clarisse looks unsure when you turn to her, but the only thing you can do is sigh in response.

“I don’t know, my father suddenly decides that I’m worth something and claims me in front of everyone. Now I am going to be living in this enormous cabin alone and everyone will probably avoid me because a child of the big three is like the most dangerous thing possible,” you take a deep breath after spilling everything that you had been thinking. Clarisse seems surprised at your outburst, and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. 

“Sorry, I guess it just needed to get out and you are the first person I talked to since then. Percy had to stay with Chiron,” Clarisse makes a noise of disagreement as you turn to look at your hands.

“I don’t mind, really. I mean your life did a complete turnaround in the last hour I think it’s normal for you to be having a hard time,” a smile appears on your lips without you even noticing, and as you look at her, she has a soft smile on her lips, one that you haven’t seen before. 

“I can’t tell you that it will all be alright but try to see the good side of it all, now you have a cabin for yourself without idiots running around all the time,” her words make you snort as you can’t help but agree, as much as you loved the comradery in the Hermes cabin it was always chaotic. 

“And if anyone has a problem with you, you tell me and I’ll make sure they don’t say anything anymore,” the sweet look she had just a second ago has morphed into determination and you can’t stop yourself from smiling.

“Don’t worry Clarisse I’ll be fine, but thank you,” you tell her, and she nods slowly, she looks unsure for a moment and the both of you look at each other before she finally speaks.

“I’m here for you, if you ever need something I will always be there,” she says it with such determination and emotions that you can only believe her, feeling lost at the feeling in your chest at her words.

“Thank you. I’m also always there for you if you need me,” you tell her with a soft smile and she seems surprised for a moment before nodding, you don’t know if you are tired or if there is really a blush on her cheeks. 

“I should go pick up my stuff at the Hermes cabin otherwise I will never get settled in before the bonfire tonight,” Clarisse has a bright smile at the words before getting up with you.

“So, I’ll be seeing you at the bonfire tonight?”, she seems confident as she speaks, but you can see some doubt lingering in her eyes.

“Of course, I’ll see you there!”, you tell her as she looks at you for a moment, seemingly trying to read your expression. Before you can ask her if everything is alright you feel a soft kiss on your cheek and Clarisse running off before you can say anything.

Your mouth is wide open, and your cheeks feel like they are burning as you touch the spot where she kissed you, the feeling of her lips still lingering there. 

--

“Coming to pick up your stuff?”, you hear as you are packing up one of your shirts in the bag, Luke is leaning against one of the double beds as you look behind you.

“I am, otherwise, I will have to come back every time for my stuff. Might not be se practical,” you tell him awkwardly, you didn’t know how to act around him anymore, not after the conversation you had overheard yesterday.

“I guess congratulations are in order,” he says after a few seconds of silence, and you turn around to look at him properly.

“Thank you, never thought this day would come but it has,” the both of you look at each other for a moment before Luke sighs.

“You know that you are always welcome here, right? Don’t ever hesitate to come by, I know the younger kids will miss you,” he says, and you can’t help but smile at his words, you would also miss them and their youthful innocence. 

“I’ll miss you too,” the words make you turn to look back at him from the bunks you were looking at and you can see him now being closer to you then before.

“Really?”, you can’t help but ask, feeling unsure after what he had said to Chris but as you look into the familiar brown eyes you can’t seem to find any trace of lying.

“Of course, you were here for three years I don’t know how it will be now that you aren’t here anymore,” you want to tell him that it will probably better for him without you clinging to him as Chris has said it, but you can’t find the strength to say it.

Luke gets closer to you and suddenly you find yourself having to look slightly upwards to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he whispers, and you shake your head slowly, trying to find an answer while getting lost in his eyes.

“I won’t,” you tell him, sure of yourself and Luke seems relieved at your words before he gets even closer to you.

And for a moment the two of you look at each other, wondering what was about to happen and if you should really cross that line until the door of the cabin slams open making the both of you jump away in surprise. Silena is at the entrance of the door, looking at the both of you with angry eyes and you suddenly wonder what you had done to have the Aphrodite girl mad at you.

“I’m here to help you get your stuff to your cabin,” she says, and you would’ve found the gesture sweet if she hadn’t still been glaring at the two of you.

“Thank you, I just finished packing everything,” you say after awkwardly clearing your throat.

“I guess I’ll see you around Luke,” the boy nods in agreement, looking a bit scared to answer as the Aphrodite girl is still glaring at him.

The walk to your cabin is silent, Silena not speaking a word to you, and you know better than to try and say something when she has ignored your previous attempts at a conversation.

“You need to make a choice,” she suddenly says as you drop your bags near your bed, making you look at her with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?”, you feel confused at her statement, but she just lets out a loud sigh, looking annoyed.

“Between Luke and Clarisse, you can’t play with their emotions forever,” the words are like a slap in the face as you look at the girl with wide eyes.

“Wait-what?! I am not doing anything like that!”, you can’t help but say, your voice getting louder as you feel insulted by what she insinuated, as if you had been playing on purpose with their emotions.

“I don’t even know why you would even say that when there is nothing happening between me and Luke or me and Clarisse,” you say before she can even open her mouth and she scoffs loudly.

“You know for a daughter of Zeus you really are clueless,” she says, and you feel even more frustrated.

“What in the gods name do you mean?”, you can feel the anger coming up, as you try to remember what could possibly have led to this conversation.

“It is not my place to tell you, but you really should open up your eyes before you hurt all three of you,” she says with a cold look and you feel once again lost, you thought that the two of you had gotten closer last night but now looking at her you couldn’t remember the sweet girl from that night.

“Acting like a victim or like you don’t know what I’m talking about won’t get you anywhere,” the words feel like a slap in the face, and you try to keep yourself calm but the sound of thunder makes the two of you look up. The ceiling that had previously been a soft gray was now getting darker with thunder rumbling. 

“Get out,” you tell her before turning around, not wanting to see the girl any longer after what she had just told you. 

And for a moment you thought that she had left before her voice broke your thoughts once again, only this time softer.

“I’m sorry, for what I said it wasn’t fair,” the words are spoken softly, carefully like she wants to make sure you don’t get angry.

“It’s okay, guess you needed to say what you really thought, good to know what people think of me,” you can’t help but mutter as you put the last of your stuff away, not hearing the sigh Silena lets out.

“I didn’t think that, not really, I guess that I am protective of Clarisse and sometimes I attack people who hurt her like some kind of-”, she seems to try and find the correct word, so you turn around with raised eyebrows.

“A chihuahua?”, she snorts at the words before nodding slowly, letting you think of her previous words.

“Why do you think I hurt Clarisse? I saw her just two hours ago and everything was fine,” you tell her, and she sighs quietly before sitting down on your bed with a grimace.

“She’s going to kill me,” she whispers under her breath while you can’t help but look at her feeling confused.

“Clarisse likes you; she has for the past two years and probably before that,” the words are like a bullet, hitting you right through your chest. You don’t know what to say as you open and close your mouth multiple times. Silena has an understanding smile on her lips as she pats the spot next to her on the bed, making you sink into it while your thoughts are running wild.

“I didn’t- I really didn’t know,” you tell her, and she nods quietly, like she already knew what you were going to say.

“I know, you don’t seem to realize that people are interested in you,” she says it like a fact, and you can’t help but nod in agreement.

“I don’t know what to do,” you say after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper but Silena seems to have heard you as she sighs.

“I think that you need to wrap your head around all of this and that you need to think about who you really have feelings for. But if you don’t go for Clarisse, please be kind to her, she looks tough, but she has a soft spot,” the words are carefully said but you can’t help but feel offended as she seems to think you would hurt the Ares girl.

“Of course, I would never hurt her,” you say quickly and Silena smiles knowingly, as if she knows something that you don’t know yet.

“Good, I’ll let you think in peace,” she says before getting up and squeezing your shoulder in reassurance.

The silence of the cabin is once again taking over the place but this time you welcome it as your head is filled with questions. Silena seemed to think that both Luke and Clarise were interested in you and that you had to make a choice. Your groan loudly as you put your head into a cushion, wondering how you were going to make a decision.

You had always liked Luke, or at least had a crush on him but as you think back of the last few days the only thing you can think about is Clarisse. The way she had quickly taken you under her wing, kissed you on the cheek and came to see you to make sure you were alright. 

Your thoughts are quickly broken by a loud bang of the door, making you jump in surprise.

“Sorry for the door but I am officially moving in!”, you hear Percy yell and as you look over the silver balcony you come face to face with a smiling Percy, a pillow under his arm and a bag with his stuff in his hand.

“You do know that we have pillows here?”, you say teasingly, unable not to smile as the boy shrugs his shoulders and starts climbing up the stairs. The sight of him makes you calm down as you finally feel at ease for a moment.

“I hope it isn’t an issue that I’m here, it just gets lonely there,” he says, looking a bit awkward for a moment but you just take his bag out of his hand to bring it to the bed on the other side of the room.

“Of course not! I’m glad that you are here, it was getting a bit to calm in here,” you say after a moment and Percy seems relieved at your words.

“So, what’s the gossip?”, Percy asks after laying down like a starfish on the bed making you snort.

“What do you want to know?”, the boy looks unsure for a moment before a mischievous grin appears.

“Everything, but perhaps what is happening between you and Clarisse at the moment,” you glare at the boy, who tries to look innocent, but you can see the mischief in his eyes.

“Fine, I need your opinion on this. But first we are making hot chocolate and face masks,” Percy seems unsure at the second option, but you give him a pointed look before picking up the stuff you would need.

And that is how you find yourself half an hour later in the living room with hot chocolate and the both of you with a face mask telling him everything that had happened.

--

The bonfire was already in full swing as you arrived with Percy, the both of you had quickly gotten ready when you had realized how late it was.

“Now go get her!”, Percy says with a big smile as you look scared for a moment, and you turn around to give him a soft smile.

“Thank you for the advice,” you say but the boy simply shrugs his shoulders, a smile on his lips.

“Always here if you need me, that is what family is for after all,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world and you can’t help but feel a bit emotional at the words.

“I’ll see you later in our cabin?”, Percy quickly nods with a large grin before giving you a thumbs up and moving towards Annabeth and Grover who were waiting for him.

You turn to look back at the rest of the bonfire, but you can’t seem to find the Ares girl, the only girl you find at that moment is Silena, who looks pained. You feel confused as to why before you turn to look closer and see Clarisse and a girl talking, or rather flirting with each other. It feels like someone has thrown a bucket of water over you as you look at the two of them, they looked perfect for each other, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy as you saw Clarisse touching the other girls leg.

“Please talk to her,” Silena says, and you turn around to suddenly find her next to you. You try to say something, but you aren’t able to as you look at both girls.

“What’s the point? She seems happy, I don’t want to disturb her,” you can’t help but say, feeling defeated.

“Look she is just acting like an idiot to get your attention, she was mad when she saw Luke and you nearly kissing so she is probably trying to see if you will react to her flirting with someone else,” Silena seems to be trying to explain everything as quickly as possible, as if she is scared that you would run out of time or that you would just leave.

“Fine, I’ll talk to her, after all it seems to be my fault she is talking to that girl. But if she tells me to leave, I am leaving,” you say, and Silena quickly nods in agreement. You take a moment to collect all the possible courage you will need before walking towards the two girls.

“Clarisse, hi, could I talk to you?”, you could’ve just started a conversation and then ask the question, but you just needed to talk to her.

“Why?”, the Ares girl suddenly asks, and you feel lost, she doesn’t seem that happy to see you and you try not to feel hurt as she looks at you like you were just some dirt on the side of the road.

“Because I need to talk to you about something, private,” you say as you quickly look at the other girl before turning back towards Clarisse.

“Why don’t you go talk with Castellan, I’m sure he’ll be interested,” she says with a mean smile, and you feel like the air has left your lungs as she turns back to the girl she was talking to.

“Clarisse, please,” you say softly and for a moment you wonder if she has heard you before you see her look up and look at something behind you. You get ready to look at what she could possibly be looking at, but she gets up before you can.

“Fine, you have five minutes,” she says, and you let out a sigh of relief as you follow her away from the bonfire and into the woods.

Your relief is quickly forgotten as you start to wonder how you are going to tell her everything. She seems impatient as she has her arms crossed in front of her and her eyebrows raised at you, making you laugh nervously.

“You know in some cultures, crossing your arms means that you are closing yourself of or protecting yourself,” you can’t help but say, and you want to slap yourself as you realize what you just said.

“So, you took me away to tell me some fun facts? Because then I am leaving,” she says and you see that she is ready to go but you take her arm and she stops immediately, looking at your hand on her arm.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous, let me start again?”, she seems unsure but nods slowly and you clear your throat.

“Right, I don’t really know how to say it, but I guess I’ll start by this. I like you Clarisse,” the words feel like a relief but is short lived as Clarisse scoffs and takes her arm out of your grip.

“Is this a joke? First Castellan now me. Did he reject you and you decided to come to the second-best option?”, the words are like a punch in the guts, and you take a few seconds to react but as you watch her leave, this time towards the lake you can’t help but react.

“Wait! Clarisse! This is not a joke!”, you yell as you follow her and you finally manage to find her as she arrives at the lake, the both of you out of breath.

“Really? How come you were so close to him this afternoon? How come after three years of pining over him you suddenly seem interested in me?”, she yells, and you can see the hurt in her eyes, the pain in them.

“Because I never knew you were an option for me. I never knew you even knew my name Clarisse, so I didn’t think that something could happen between us,” you yell back, feeling desperate for her to listen to you.

“I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize that you were there, that you always were but I am here now, and I am ready to go on my knees to beg you for just a chance,” you tell her, breathless, as you approach her. 

“I have loved you for three years,” she whispers, like a wounded animal, as if she is scared that you would hurt her but instead you take her hand in yours, unsure if she will reject you or not but she just grips it tightly.

“I know, Silena told me,” you tell her softly and her eyes widen at the words, anger coming up but you take her chin between your fingers, making her look at you.

“I am going to kill her,” she whispers, and you smile at the words.

“Please don’t, she’s the one that made me realize just how much I liked you,” you whisper, and she looks surprised for a moment before realizing just how close you were.

“She also helped me go talk to you when I was feeling jealous at the sight of you and that girl,” it’s hard to admit but as you see her eyes sparkling at the confession, you know that you did the right thing.

“Now you know how I felt,” she says, and you can’t help but feel bad.

“I know, I’m sorry for that,” you tell her, but she simply shrugs her shoulders before coming even closer to you.

“Tell me what you wanted to tell me,” she whispers and you shudder at the closeness of her lips against yours but you nod slowly, enjoying her smirk at your reaction.

“I love you Clarisse La Rue and I wanted to ask you if you would like to go on a date with me?”, you make sure that the words are said clearly, that there couldn’t be a misunderstanding.

Clarisse’s lips melting against yours is the only answer you need, as she kisses you like you are the air she needs to breath. You quickly kiss her back, one hand cupping her cheek while the other grabs onto her curls making her moan softly.

“You are going to be the death of me princess,” she whispers, breathless before bringing you into an even deeper kiss, her hands gripping your waist tightly. 

“So, I guess this is a, yes?”, you ask feeling like you are on cloud nine and as you feel her smile against your skin you know you don’t even need her to answer.

“A million times yes,” she whispers against your skin, making you shiver, before continuing to drop soft kisses against your skin.

--

Life had been better ever since that night, Clarisse often joining you into your cabin and learning to live with Percy as the two of them slowly started liking each other more. There were still quests and monsters waiting for you but as you felt her strong arms holding you closer to her, you knew everything would be alright.

[thewertsearch]

GT: I should preface this request with an overture of appreciation. GT: For how much your cool and brotherly friendship means to me. GT: It has just been… GT: Absolutely *bully* having a standup gent like you in my corner. GT: Just a grade a dude whos a cut above the others in class and camaraderie. GT: Phew… *gropes for fresh kerchief*.

Wow, Jake is fucking terrified of this guy - or at the very least, he seems incredibly intimidated for a guy who's ostensibly just chatting with a friend.

Unfortunately, this is exactly what I'd expect from a Bro who's not any different from his adult self. Jake's acting exactly like Dave did, back when he was forced to share an apartment with the guy.

TT: Take it easy, bromide. TT: Just about the only way I could salvage endearment from this perilous slope of horseshit would be to discover, really fucking soon mind you, it was a preamble to some floundering invitation for me to rush to your vicinity as nakedly as possible.

In other words, you wish he was hitting on you.

I really don't think he's kidding, especially since both Roxy and Jane seem to want a piece of English, too. Jake's sitting at the epicenter of at least three crushes, which is not a pleasant place to be sitting when you're fifteen.

TT: But since we've already shot that wad's eventuality on so many dry runs of flustered ambivalence that were as hilarious as they were one sided, TT: That leaves only one hope for this message to avoid spiraling toward qualification as a critical fucking defect in the hull of the Mach 10 rocket that is my precious spare time.

And here's the guy's actual personality. It's a fairly even mixture of Rose and Dave, a combination which synergizes much better than you'd expect.

He's still prone to Dave-style rambles - but unlike Dave, his streams of consciousness are every bit as eloquent as Rose's text, which some extra swear words tossed in for flavor.

It's very good, and immediately does a lot to humanize him, especially when all we've seen so far is "roof. now." and "State your business."

TT: And that hope lies in the extent to which you were practicing artful insincerity. TT: Now's your opportunity to pretend that's what you were gunning for. I suggest you seize it. GT: I… GT: Oh. Yes! But of course. GT: The ironies! GT: Good grief how i was bandying them just now. You know me dude. GT: *Blows smoke off red hot irony pistol.* GT: *NONSUGGESTIVELY!!!!!*

lmaoooo

Alright, I can't actually tell if that was a Freudian slip or not - but I kind of hope it was. If these two became a couple, the vibes would be incomprehensible.

TT: I'm guessing you're probably jonesing for uranium about now. No? GT: Ok can you please just sendificate me some more already?? Im in kind of a hurry! [...] TT: You know. I've offered to construct the rabbit for you many times before. I would craft a much deadlier model. […] GT: Damn it man ive told you this is just something i have to do myself. […] TT: Yeah, I know this is your policy. You've done a good job and you should be proud. TT: But it's my responsibility as your friend to offer one last time. TT: Just as it's my responsibility not to just fork over a bunch of uranium just because you ask me in a moment of weakness. […] GT: Why not??? TT: It's too easy.

Throughout this whole conversation, I've been trying to get a grasp on Bro's general vibe - and I think I'm starting to understand it.

When you're talking to Kid Bro, everything is a game - and he'll make damn well sure that you follow the rules.

Jake previously committed to making the bunny alone, and Bro refuses to rescind that rule, even if Jake's no longer following it himself. He strikes me as a guy who frames every interaction he has as transactional, confrontational, or instructional. He's not capable of just shooting the shit - there has to be an angle.

Mind you, I don't think there's any genuine malice in it. I think this is just how he's wired - and I really do think he's trying to help Jake develop as a person, in his own way.

The problem is, we've been down this road before...

...and nothing good lies down this road.

[the-devils-angel]

Through His Eyes

pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!reader (pre-established relationship)

warnings: none. just some fluff and like two seconds of angst.

a/n: some of my writing from over a year ago which I edited a bit. I totally forgot I used to write Matt Murdock fanfics for my friends in 2023.

Your eyes tightly squint closed, lashes pressed against your cheeks. Your nose scrunches up, pointing up toward your furrowed brows. A smile overcomes your features, teeth showing your happiness.

You're sitting on the hard floor, the soft carpet the only barrier between your legs and the chilly wood. Across the coffee table from you, leaning against the couch, is none other than Matt Murdock, your boyfriend.

Lately, you've been trying to see the world more through his eyes, well, in a way. When out in parks, you sit on a bench and close your eyes, listening to every sound around you and trying to guess where it came from or what made it. Sometimes, you visit your favorite garden, a beautiful place filled with the most gorgeous plants, and smell everything. You try to distinguish the different types of flowers, finding it easier the more often you go.

But your favorite thing is to lay with your head on his chest. You curl your arms around him, holding him tightly against you and keeping his warmth trapped in your embrace, and listen. His heartbeat is the most calming sound you've ever heard. Any time you find yourself in peril, freaking out about something, all you have to do is take a moment, close your eyes, and echo the memories of the steady thumps in your mind.

Every time you do something like this, you feel more near to him, and that's all you want. You want to get closer to the mystery of Matt.

The tip of your finger glides over the dice, causing a laugh to bubble at the feel. You mentally count the divots and trace around the carved circles. Feeling where the patterns lay on the cube, you finally decide their number before opening your eyes.

You grin at the victory of guessing the correct number. You've missed a few, so you're pretty happy you've gotten it right. But to be fair, Matt is distracting. That's your excuse, and it's an extremely valid one, too.

"Yes." You quietly cheer under your breath, huffing the word through your teeth as if he won't hear it.

Matt chuckles lightly, an adorable grin softening his features, "What're you so happy about?" He questions a bit teasingly before taking a small swig of his beer.

See, you haven't told him what you've been doing. You don't know if it's weird or creepy, so you're not exactly sure how you're supposed to tell him. But he can spot a lie from a mile away, maybe more, who knows?

"Happy I guessed the die roll right." You shrug, still trying to worm your way out. You reach your hand forward to give you something else to do, gripping the game piece and starting to move it the rolled amount of spaces. The rhythmic clack of the plastic against the board distracts you, bringing your focus off your weird new habits and back to the game.

"That's not all," Matt states, knowing you completely. You could tell him all about an event but leave one part out, and he instantly knows you're not telling him everything.

You look up at him, your eyes staring at his unfocused brown ones. They've landed on your chin, staring at the skin and making you shift slightly. You nibble a bit at your lower lip while he calmly sits there, waiting for you to talk.

"Well, I–" You sigh, stumbling a bit over your words. It's hard to adequately express how you feel and what you're trying to do. You take a deep breath through your nose, briefly flickering your eyes closed, "I try to see the world through your... eyes."

He lets out a huff of a laugh, a slight hint of hurt under the almost scoff, "Ha ha, very funny." He says flatly, raising his bottle to take another large gulp of his beer.

You furrow your brows, the crease between them growing as your lips turn down into a frown, "Huh? I– What's so funny? I try to understand you, to understand what you deal with, and you think that's a joke?"

"You don't understand, though." He snaps, placing his bottle down on the table with somewhat more force than necessary. His unfixed eyes are pinned to your collarbone, staring a hole through the bone.

You sigh exasperatedly, fingers tapping the table edge in frustration, "I mean, can't you see how hard I try?"

"No, not really." He jerkily moves his hand, pointing harshly to his face, "I am blind after all."

You cross your arms, face twisting in irritation. This isn't the time for Matt's smartass remarks. "Really, Matt?" You tip your head to the side, shaking it with annoyance, "I try to understand what you deal with because I fucking love you, and you find all of it funny?" Tears near the surface, burning your nose a bit.

Instantly, you see Matt's expression change, tasting the salt in the air. "Angel..." He breathes into the cool night air, his soft voice nearly drowned out by the city's roaring ambiance pouring in through the barely opened windows. He shifts around the coffee table, scooping you up into his hold. His muscular arms wrap around your waist, cradling you close to his body.

"I go to parks, close my eyes, and listen to people like you do." You huff out through slight sniffles, "And I have this favorite garden nearby that I hang out at, where I close my eyes, smell the flowers, and try to pull the scents apart." You explain through a few tears as he quickly wipes them away lovingly.

"Really?" He asks in a murmur, realizing how much you genuinely are trying. The beautiful brown of his eyes swirl around with tears and love, showing you the vulnerability you're happy he's willing to share with you.

You nod into his shirt before pulling back and darting your gaze over his face. His slightly parted lips huff out small puffs of hot air over your face, dampening more when he darts his lips out to lick them nervously. His scruff brushes coarsely under your palms as you gently cup his face, rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheekbones and jawline. Running your hands and eyes up to his brown eyes, lowered down to your chin. The dark, chocolatey color reflects the hue of blinking red and blue lights from the billboard across the street. His lashes flutter together, completely relaxing into your embrace as you smooth your fingertips over his lids.

You glide your hands over his scarred, rough skin and into his silky soft strands of hair. They mirror the comfort and velvetiness of your shared sheets, tangling around your fingers precisely the same way.

You tilt your head up, leaning toward his face to gently kiss him. You could stay here forever, sitting in his lap and showing him how loved he is. The world melts away; the only thing that matters is his touch against yours and his pure love and devotion. Eventually, you pull back, placing pecks on his lips before gingerly pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

You lower yourself back into his grasp, sighing in contentment as you lay your head on his chest. "Really." You confirm, nuzzling against his heartbeat, "And my favorite thing to listen to is your heart." You continue, stroking your fingers along his torso lovingly as you kiss where you lay, "It's the only thing in this world that brings me this much peace."

Matt's arms wrap tightly around your waist, pulling you into his hold entirely. He shoves his face into your hair, hot tears trailing down the strands and onto your neck. "I'm sorry, Angel." A soft peck is placed on the crown of your head, "I love you." He whispers against your skin.

"I love you too, Matty."

[raineydays411]

My Father's Daughter pt 14

Summary: Dick and the others have finally caught up to Y/n and her "Red Team", but have they gotten there too late?

Dark.

That's all you saw, just darkness. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pitch black water, unaware but uncaring at the immense peril you were in. You floated, faintly hearing a noise in the background, something telling you to wake up and fight. But you wanted to ignore it, it felt good. Good to just float, not worrying about a thing.

But then there was a light.

A piercing bright light that hurt your eyes as you stared into it. And a ringing. A ringing that made your eardrums feel as if they were about to burst.

"Hello."

Who the fuck was that?

"Who the fuck are you?" You say with a hoarse voice, still not grasping the situation you were in.

"Such a foul mouth." The man tskd, " The signature of a Stark I guess."

You look around and feel the restraints on your wrists and ankles. You look down to see that you're splayed out on a table.

"That, unfortunately, shall be the first thing to go."

Panic floods your body.

You finally realized what is happening.

They got you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

" What do you mean she's gone?!"

Christine screams at the her children, " She- She was just here! She was in her room! She was safe!"

Dick looks up from the ground, feeling like he was twelve again, " Mom they.. they just came from nowhere. We had just gotten there when they attacked.."

Bruce was already making his way towards his suit, Dick and Jason had burst into the house, rushing the battered Peter, Wade, and Dopiender.

They were all caught off guard when they had finally found you, literally across the street only to see a group of armed men dressed in black descend on your unsuspecting friends.

They took out who they thought would be the biggest threat, Wade Wilson.

Or at least they tried to. They first shot him in the chest, hoping that the blast would take him out of the game, but to no luck. He flew back allowing them to shoot you with a tranquilizer, but he quickly rose and started firing back. It was only when they got him with a headshot that he went down and stayed down.

Peter, although he didn't have his suit, tried his best to get to you dodging multiple tranquiliser darts and managing to knock a few of them men to the ground. He was however overwhelmed and swiftly knocked out by a hit to the back of the head.

Dopinder actually managed to kill two men before he was shot in the arm and passed out from the blood.

By the time the shock from it all wore off and the Bat crew rushed to the scene, it was all over.

You were gone, and weren't even able given the chance to defend yourself.

The sight of your limp body being carelessly lifted haunted Jason's mind. He chased the SUV for twelve blocks before he lost them. By the time he made it back to the abduction spot, Peter had woken up and was panicking.

His best friend had just gotten kidnapped and he was being interrogated by Nightwing and Robin. Jason, fueled by adrenaline and rage tried to slam Peter into the taxi but was deflected by said boy. Surprising everyone and sending into attack mode.

But before any fighting could happen, Dick came in to be the voice of reason.

They piled into the nasty taxi and headed off back to the Batcave to allow Wade and Dopinder to recover and to think of a plan to rescue you.

"Jason," Bruce said, " What are you thinking?"

Jason looked at him from where he stood, " They were watching us."

Bruce nodded, " They knew she was here the whole time."

Christine stopped her yelling, " What?"

Bruce looked at her, " They knew she was here. That's how they were able to grab her so quickly. They had a plan."

Dick looked angry," We don't even know who these people are! How are we supposed to get her back?"

And for once, Bruce didn't have an answer to that. Despite the amount of time you had been with them, there has been little to nothing found about the people who were after you. Not by Bruce and not by your father. He had spent nights sitting in front of that computer trying to help figure out how to keep you safe. But without whatever information Tony had found, he knew next to nothing.

Christine held in her tears, she thought she had ran out of tears earlier but here they come again. She had that feeling again. The same feeling she had when she left you. The same feeling she had when she listened to the voicemails and read the emails you sent her. The same feeling she had when the movers told her about your outburst, and the same feeling she had when she saw you at that gala.

Was it sadness or guilt? She couldn't tell anymore.

But she was afraid.

Afraid for you, and what these people had planned for you. This was the one thing she had been terrified would happen and it's happened. They've taken you from her.

"It's my fault." She cried," If I had just listened to her-"

"Miss Christine, I'm afraid now is not the time for your pity party." Alfred said from where he had been helping Dopiender, who was stll unconscious.

" Alfred." Bruce said in an exhaused manner

"I am sorry Master Bruce, but I believe it's best if we focus on Y/n and not tiptoeing around Miss Christines woes of failed motherhood."

The whole room froze. It was rare for Alfred to criticize Christine for anything, as she was his favorite.

"Woah..harsh Jeeves"

Everyone turned to see Wade rising froom his bed, wound healed.

"What the fuck?" Jason said, " This dude took a headshot!"

"Not the first time" Wade shook his head, forgoing the dirty joke that popped into his head, " Now where the fuck am I?"

Everyone again froze, but Bruce emerged from the shadows, full on Bat mode.

"Who are you."

Wade took one look at Bruce and laughed in his face.

"hahahaha oh oh I'm sorry- I just hahahahaha" Another burst of laughter came from his mouth, "You're so scary I promise!"

The room looked at the man uneasily. The one person that was crazy enough to laugh in Batman's face was the Joker.

"Wade stop it." Peter said from where he stood, "Y/ns gone."

Laughter ceases immediately, an eerie aura fells the room, " What was that bugs?"

"They got her."

"Then what the fuck are we standing around here for!" Wade shouts, the sudden shift in personalities making the family of bats unsettled.

Except for Jason.

"Can I just ask who the fuck are you?"

Your two friends turn to him," We're Y/ns family."

Jason pauses and nods," Okay then."

Then proceeds to give them the rundown on what they have discovered, which is not a lot.

There's a heavy silence that fills the air.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Panic fills your veins.

"That will be the first thing to go."

Those words riddled your brain as you were strapped down to this table. The room was white, almost like a hospital room.

Now, this wasn't the first time you had been kidnapped, but most of the time it was petty. Ransoms and whatnot. And your dad always managed to find you within the hour.

This was different. This was people who truly had no good intentions.

You were scared. Your dad had no idea where you were. You were worried about your friends, and even about the Waynes.

You had no idea on whether they were looking for you or still thought you were in your room. For all you knew, they were having a grand time thinking you were sulking and weren't going to discover you were gone till it was too late.

And what would happen to your dad if you die? He could barely take care of himself when Christine left him. He needed to you. He needed you to be okay so he can be okay. You couldn't dead. And your mom, you couldn't leave her to pick up your dads pieces. She didn't know how. Not like you did. and what about Jason-

"Ah, you're aware."

A woman came in this time.

"I apologize for the rather rude introduction, I'm afraid men just don't have the same gentle touch as us women."

She had a small frame. She was pale, almost deathly so. With graying hair that had no cut, just long and curly. She didn't look old however, that's what unsettled you the most. She looked about a few years older than you.

"Please don't pay no attention to whatever these men say to you, we do not intend to cause you any harm."

Her voice was calming, it soothed your panic and eased your anxiety. It made you feel like you were floating.

"Now, Ms. Stark I know you are probably wondering why you are here."

You couldn't even bring yourself to care, you felt at ease. A frail cold hand carding through your hair.

" This building we're in used to be a prestiges lab. We studied the human mind and its capabilities. With the rise of people such as Wanda Maximoff and such, this research was well needed. We searched far and wide for the people with these capabilities. Which was hard because they are so rare as I am sure you know."

She rises from her place next to you, hand leaving your hair. She walks over to a table next to you. When did that get there?

"Well, the search for these people was fruitless as you can imagine. Not many people are as forthcoming with their capabilities as we hoped. It became so bad that we had to force these poor subjects out of their hiding spaces. But even then the search didn't turn up much. So we decided that we would make our own."

You really didn't comprehend what this woman was telling you. All you wanted was to go back to sleep. You felt so relaxed.

"As you can imagine, that didn't particularly go as planned. We didn't mean to kill them, their minds just weren't strong enough."

Wait what?

"There were many that came through ; young, old, male female. And only one group was ever rarely successful. And can you guess who it was?"

A cold chill went down to your bones as you were piecing together her story.

"Young women, age 15-25." She said calmly, " Of course they did."

You didn't respond, just stared into this womens pale eyes. She was starting to creep you out.

"Now, I bet you're wondering where you factor into this equation." She hmms, hand back in your hair. A little rougher.

'Well my dear, I am afraid you just got caught in the crossfire. You see, one of my little experiments just so happened to escape." She sighs, eyes showing some sort of emotion, "She was beautiful, with a strong mind. I even came to view her as a daughter of my own. My little petal."

"Wait..what?"

"Don't interrupt it's rude." This women chides, not cruelly but you knew not to say anything else.

"Now, escaping just wasn't enough for my little petal, oh no. She decided that she needed to expose our...little secret. It was all covered up of course, you know how the government is about things like this, but our funding was cut and our doctors were arrested."

While she was talking you can feel an intense amount of pain. A deep sorrow penetrating your soul and heart. You felt betrayed, hurt.

"Well, imagine my surprise when I turn on the television and see a girl who looks exactly like my little flower."

That's when you knew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the manor, Peter was frustrated.

All these people were doing was arguing. Arguing about who should've been watching you, Arguing about what they should have done, what they did do, what they should be doing.

It baffles Peter that these were the feared vigilantes of Gotham.

Bruce was too busy trying to figure out just where you were taken and Christine had deemed him too normal to even be able to help (They didn't know he was Spiderman). Dick and Damian were out trying to find any footage that might have been taken on the scene. Wade was out talking to some of his connections with Cass because Bruce didn't trust him to be alone. So he was stuck being babysat by Tim and Jason who are arguing about the best course of action.

"I'M SAYING WE GO BACK TO THE DINER AND RETRACE OUR STEPS"

"Oh yeah that's a great idea, go to the bad side of town and ask about that one crime that happened in that one alley at night. As if anyone will talk."

"Well it's better than sitting here all-"

Peter tunes them out. He tunes everyone out. He's worried about you.

He knew that you only came here to make things easier for your dad. So he didn't have to watch you 24/7.

But the ironic thing is, Tony was worried out of his mind. He worked endlessly to find these people, people that he may have crossed in the past, people who may want to hurt him through you. Just to turn up with nothing everytime. Peter knew everyone one missed you. Your presence was not unnoticed.

He hated not being able to talk to you everyday, it was like you just didn't exist. He couldn't imagine how you felt, cut off from the only life you'd known

And all that pain for what? Just for the one thing no one wanted to happen come true in the end.

"Ahem." a throat cleared, breaking Peter out of his thoughts

"Sir, I don't mean to disturb you but perhaps now would be a good time to...call in some reinforcements." Alfred implied, softly talk as to not alert the other members of the family of his plan.

Peters brows scrunched in confusion before rising in clarity. He nodded softly, before standing and pardoning himself to the bathroom that Alfred showed him to.

When he was safely away from the commotion, he pulled out his cellphone.

*ring* *ring*

"Talk to me."

"It's Peter!DeadpoolkidnappedmetocomeseeY/ningothamandnowshesgoneandidontknowhattodoan-"

"Woah! Woah slow down Spiderboy, what do you mean you're in Gotham? That's a terrible place to be in."

"No it's Y/n sir! SHe's gone!"

A pause hits Peters ears, he almost thought he got hung up on"

"Peter, what are you saying?"

"They got her Mr. Stark. I'm sorry."

......

"Give me your location, we'll be right there."

[flawseer]

Ok, these time rate me the Jade WInglets

I've been sitting on this work-in-progress picture for so many months now. Maybe if I post it here, I'll finally sit down and finish it.

Very long post incoming.

Discussing the Jade Winglet

Okay. So, you want me to rate the Jade Winglet group. That’s going to be very easy: I love all of them.

It’s also going to be extraordinarily hard because... well... I love all of them. How am I supposed to put them into an ordered list? It can’t be done. So I guess what I’m going to do is: First I will put them into a tier list, and then I’m going to just talk about each of them individually for a bit.

But on account of aforementioned adoration I have for all of these guys, said tier list is going to be very lopsided. The tiers are going to be “I adore them with the intensity of seven suns”, “I really like them”, and “I very much like them, but...”. You’re going to have to imagine that there are five or so more unused tiers below that.

Let’s unceremoniously get that ranking out of the way first. From top to bottom, the tiers are:

I adore Turtle, Qibli, and Winter.

I really like Moonwatcher, Kinkajou, and Peril.

I very much like Umber and Carnelian.

As for more in-depth commentary, here is a disclaimer: When I think about these guys I mostly consider books 6 (Moon Rising) to 9 (Talons of Power) and the first half of 10 (Darkness of Dragons). The second half of 10... if I’m being honest, I didn’t really enjoy it. I don’t want to go into it too much here, if you really want me to talk about my misgivings with the second arc finale, put a message about it in my inbox (it’s not just the obvious thing; it actually mostly pertains to Winter and the absolute nightmare ending he got saddled with, and some very unfortunate character implications).

Some of my musings are also going to be a bit critical. I just want it to be clear that I make these observations as a fan of the series. It’s a good practice to think critically even about media that you like. It helps you better understand why you like it in the first place. Also, I make no demands to be agreed with. This is just how I see it.

Anyway, enough stalling, let’s get into it. Not in order:

Turtle

CW: Parental abuse

Turtle is the most wonderful thing to ever happen in the history of the universe. I wake up every morning and the first thought in my head is “Ugh, another day in this backwards reality where Turtle is not real! No thanks!!” Then I go right back to sleep disappointed until the next day. Okay, maybe that’s a bit hyperbolic. But I do think that everyone’s lives would be greatly improved if Turtle was real.

Turtle is a very vibrant and insightful character who, much like Winter, is unfortunately cursed with a pair of malicious and incompetent "parents". Some of his scenes really hurt to get through if you’re a parent yourself or have ever had parental feelings. The first scene he is in, when Moon observes him arriving at the academy, his mother makes a passing comment about how Turtle has no value because he cannot inherit the throne. Turtle is within earshot when she does this. And he has no overt reaction to it, which to me hints that Coral asserts this about her male children so frequently that he has accepted her line of thinking and internalized it. He just accepts it as the truth. That is heartbreaking.

And then there is his father, mild-mannered and ostensibly gentle Gill, who killed Turtle’s budding interest in writing as well as the entirety of his self-confidence back when he was a kid, by assigning a little boy a task that was well beyond him (and only to him, even though there were more people present who could have helped), and then made him believe he killed his unborn sister when Turtle inevitably couldn’t do what he was asked. The narrative really tries to make Gill sympathetic in that moment by insisting he’s speaking in anger and doesn’t really mean it, but um, no. I don’t buy it, dude. You just gave a little kid a lifelong guilt complex because you couldn’t think of asking more people for help. Or taking the egg with you while you left the hatchery. Or telling Turtle to take a message to the palace guard so someone who didn’t still have their milk teeth could mount a proper, organized search while interim guards were posted in the hatchery. Or literally any of the thousands of other options that didn’t require traumatizing your own son.

As a result, Turtle became emotionally reclusive. He registers to others as dull, placid, unpassionate, and boring, like he cares about nothing and is content to never strive for or achieve anything in his life. He himself explains that writing used to be something he was into at some point, but then lost interest in. But I don’t think he has. He still loves literature and thinking about stories, he's still doing it in his internal monologue. He just denies it because he subconsciously feels the need to punish himself. I imagine he still gets that drive sometimes, to sit down and start writing again. But every time he thinks about it, or catches himself wanting anything, his father’s voice resurfaces in his mind, telling him that he killed his sister and doesn’t deserve it. And then he self-punishes by depriving himself of everything he loves doing and every positive emotion associated with it. Because he is convinced he is guilty for failing his father, when in actuality, the opposite is true.

The tragedy is that, if Gill had known how much damage he caused and wasn’t in a situation where he needed a flowchart to keep his 30+ sons apart, he probably would have apologized. He doesn’t strike me as malicious, just horribly, horribly incompetent as a parent. But as things played out, Gill is no longer able to fix his mistake. The only person who can now grant Turtle the forgiveness he needs is himself. I hope he will be able to do it.

Turtle truly is an endearing character and a wonderful son undeserved by his parents. If I could adopt him right now I would. In fact, I’m gonna do it. Hold on while I get the papers. Wait, I have to finish? Uh... okay.

Moonwatcher

In a sense, Moonwatcher may be the most interesting character in the entire cast. She certainly had the potential to be my favorite character period. But there are a few points holding her back.

The thing about Moonwatcher is that, more than any other character, she requires meticulous care and attention to detail to be written well. The reason for this is that, when you’re writing for Moon, you also technically write for every character she interacts with. She is written brilliantly in her own book, since the narrative is allowed to focus on her; Moon Rising may thus actually be my favorite book of the second arc. It’s very enrapturing, seeing her navigate the academy’s social dynamics after growing up as, essentially, a feral jungle child, and battling with her own feelings of loneliness and inadequacy.

The thing is though... Wings of Fire has a bit of an odd quirk. Something I’ve noticed with regards to its writing is that, whenever a character is not particularly in focus during a scene, they often get reduced to their most basic traits and will rigidly act according to them regardless of prior context or external factors. I call this phenomenon “Auto-pilot”. If you’ve read my Mail Call #3, this is what I think happened to Tsunami during the second arc—Tsunami’s basic traits are that she is bossy, emotional, and blunt, so she spends the entirety of her page time as a deep-sea-themed wrecking ball who yells at everyone and dismisses everything as “ugh, nightwing powers” and “Peril was bad in book 1 once, I hate her forever”, despite having other, more pressing matters to prioritize.

Whenever Moonwatcher gets set to auto-pilot, it is very depressing. She needs careful, attentive writing to shine, and whenever she doesn’t get it she turns from the most interesting character into a dull brick that recites exposition and occasionally exists to be fawned after by boys. Tragically, the auto-pilot hits her bad after Winter’s book is done, and she never manages to escape it afterwards, save for maybe one or two scenes. There is a particularly egregious example in book 10 that, in my opinion, does permanent, irreversible damage to her character. It’s all a bit soul-crushing if dwelt on.

So yeah, I like Moonwatcher. I really do. I just wish the strong way she was written could have carried through the entire arc.

Winter

CW: Parental abuse

I initially didn’t really know what to make of Winter when I read Moon’s book. He seemed kind of like a buttface who was needlessly hostile and unapproachable. But he really comes into his own in his book, and looking back at his earlier scenes with that new context makes it all make sense. He became one of my stand-out favorites after that.

Winter really has a lot in common with Turtle, so much so that I wish those two actually had some deeper interactions with each other. Like, at one point Turtle saves his life, you’d think they would want to talk about that some time. Where Turtle’s parents are one half malicious, one half incompetent, Winter’s are pure malice AND incompetence. Blessed with three children, they managed to completely ruin one of them, almost ruin the other, and then the third one is kind of out of focus so I don’t know how he is faring, but I doubt there is a lot of love there either.

In a way, you can draw a lot of parallels between Winter and Icicle, and Zuko and Azula from Avatar: The Last Airbender—The unfavorite who tries to do right but constantly fails to live up to his father’s/parents' warped standards, and the prodigy who seemingly has her father’s/parents' approval but secretly suffers from the abusive parenting just as much, but in different ways. Hailstorm then tries to take on the role of Iroh, an older figure that acts as a source of positivity and genuine love, and offers a reprieve from the abuse. But where Iroh is an adult drawing from a lifetime of wisdom, Hailstorm is just the slightly older sibling who comes from the same abusive household battling the same demons, so his effectiveness in countering the toxicity is limited.

Where Zuko pursues honor, Winter strives to be strong. Both his parents and his sister perceive him as weak and label him irrelevant. While this hurts him deeply, I don’t think Winter fully surrendered to his inferiority complex until he heard his brother mirror the same sentiment at him. Winter is repressed and struggles with processing his emotions—Thus he heard the words Hailstorm only said to save his life and took them at face value. Even the person he loves the most, the only source of affection and affirmation in his life, thinks he is weak. This is what drives Winter to feverishly desire strength and thus adopt a persona of the strongest thing he knows: a stoic Icewing warrior.

This is why he acts the way he does in book 6: aloof, threatening, unapproachable, invincible. But all of these traits are diametrically opposed to his actual personality, which is warm, compassionate, and just wanting to be loved for who he is. So whenever Moon reads his mind, he comes across as a confused mess of conflicting emotions. Because he is pretending to be something he isn’t.

The interesting thing here is that Winter actually is genuinely strong. He is just unable to recognize his own worth, due to the toxic way royal Icewings are raised, warping his perception of what strength means. When he meets Foeslayer, who is said to be an ancient enemy of his people, his mind cuts through the veneer of tradition and old bullshit justifications and sees her imprisonment for the cruel injustice that it is. He then undoes that injustice and frees her. It takes an incomprehensible amount of personal integrity and willpower to just casually defy the will of your entire country like that. This is equivalent to treason; by aiding her, Winter risks becoming an enemy of his people on par with Foeslayer herself. And he does it anyway, because it is the right thing to do.

This dissonance in his perception of strength with regards to his Icewing upbringing, and the actual strength he embodies and has embodied all this time, is something I would have liked to see explored more in the finale or something. As it stands now, he got pressured into putting his life on the line in the battle for Jade Mountain, has sworn loyalty to a people that mistreated him and tried to ruin him from a young age, and then got saddled with an existential nightmare of an ending that leaves me baffled to this day.

In terms of personal misfortune, he certainly is the Starflight of his group.

Qibli

CW: Parental abuse

Qibli is a very charming and versatile character. It is easy to imagine him in a variety of different situations and the scenes almost write themselves, especially when there’s another person with him whom he can bounce off of (figuratively, though I wouldn’t put it past him to try to literally bounce off of someone too). The 10th book posits him as some kind of parallel to Darkstalker; the latter even overtly states this and tries to recruit him as a manner of apprentice. It’s interesting because I think they are actually pretty different.

Qibli excels in situations where his options are limited. He is great at thinking on his feet and coming up with solutions to problems within a restricted framework. He'd be great in an escape room. This ability of his is shown throughout the arc, but it is especially visible in Moon Rising, where his presence in a scene often makes Moon stronger, or more adept at solving problems, because his mind is breaking down the situation for her in a way she would be unable to see on her own.

The twist then comes in when you take Qibli out of that limited framework, by giving him power. His pronounced intellect is very peculiar; it needs limitation to be brilliant. When he has unhindered access to all-powerful magic (i.e. doesn’t have to clear his ideas with another person), he turns into a colossal idiot who buries cities in sand and almost blows up inhabited mountains.

It only follows that, if you were to give Qibli what he wants and make him an animus, it would absolutely ruin him. The great intellect he cultivated would wither and, unshackled from the limitations that forced him to think critically and be his most excellent self, he would end up destroying himself, and likely others too.

Another interesting facet of Qibli is how he works as a parallel to Winter and Turtle (and Peril to an extent). All of these characters come from broken homes and have suffered under abusive parental figures. Qibli’s case in particular is interesting because it showcases how your circumstances can make a difference in how well you handle that issue. Qibli suffered under a tyrannical mother and a pair of cruel siblings, but in contrast to his peers, someone from the outside noticed his suffering was able to intervene—Thorn saved him from his hell and became his rescue parent, restoring his confidence and sense of self-worth.

Because of this, when his turn comes to confront his demons, while it is still difficult and painful (because trauma always is), he is able to navigate the confrontation with comparatively more grace and control than the others. The contrast really shows how difficult it is to escape a toxic relationship if you are still mired deeply within it, and how you need to put some distance between yourself and it before you can see where you are and what needs to be done with improved clarity. That is the path to healing.

I could probably keep talking about Qibli for 15 more paragraphs, but I’ll spare you.

Kinkajou

Every protagonist (and a good deal of side characters) in Wings of Fire is broken, usually has some kind of gut-wrenching past (often due to terrible parents), and struggles to find their place in the world. Luckily here is a pink-and-yellow Rainwing who is just happy and everything is fantastic and wholesome, right?

CW: Forced starvation

Nah, Kinkajou had it pretty rough too. The story plays it like it’s a humorous quip when she finds out Moonwatcher is her roommate and bemoans that nobody is taking her “trauma” seriously, but... yeah, it actually is legitimate trauma. She was captured, bound, and trapped on a hell island without sunlight for several weeks. While there, she was not fed, and she helplessly watched people whom she knew from early childhood starve and die. Death by starvation is not pretty, she likely had to witness her friends slowly being driven mad by hunger until they withered away, and couldn’t do anything about it. Then she was rescued and returned to a home that didn’t believe her pain was real, that claimed she made it up for attention, and that some people who she thought of as friends didn’t even notice she was gone. The only one who believed her was a stranger whom she had met maybe a few hours ago.

Personally, if that happened to me and I came home to that, I’d likely have pulled a Chameleon and said “Screw the Rainwings, I’m moving to the desert.”

That Kinkajou is still able to be positive and full of energy after that is a testament to her immense mental fortitude. She might actually be one of the most stable and resilient characters in the story. Some things shake her up for a bit, but nothing can crush her.

Still, I imagine there are some times, after a really bad day maybe, where she wakes up in the middle of the night. And there, for just a moment, she is scared to open her eyes... because she might be back on the Nightwing island and has to watch someone else die.

Peril

Peril is a bit of an odd case in arc 2. She gets grouped with the protagonists of that arc and the ending implies she is integrated into the Jade Winglet as their new Skywing. I have no real problem with that, in fact it’s good on her that she’s made a little less isolated. But to me, Peril always felt like an awkward appendix to that group. Her only real friend in there is Turtle; for the rest of them they feel more like vague acquaintances, like she's tolerated for being Turtle's friend.

To be fair though, that friendship with Turtle is really strong; it’s an exciting and deep character dynamic. But if I was forced to tie Peril to a group of protagonists, my first instinct would be to associate her with the first arc protagonists instead.

This poor girl has been through it. Everyone seems to hate her and wants her to leave, sometimes for understandable reasons and sometimes it just seems bizarre. I already went into Tsunami’s disdain for her in an earlier post, but I also vaguely remember a point in Escaping Peril where she meets Qibli and he gives her a withering glare for some reason. That confused me, to be honest. I thought “What’s YOUR problem with her? Have you ever even met??” Like, I guess the Outclaws were in direct conflict with Burn since they lived in the same country, and Peril was an infamous elite combatant under the command of one of Burn’s allies, so maybe Peril killed people he knew? But then he gets over his disdain really quickly and with no comment, so whatever happened can’t have been a big deal after all.

My favorite part in her book is when everyone--after having learned about Turtle’s powers--chews him out for not having helped his country during the war, and Peril cuts through the tripe by saying something along the lines of “So if he uses the power he was born with to serve his Queen it is honorable, but when I do the same for my Queen I’m a murderer and deserve to have things thrown at me?” I love all of these guys, but they really deserved to be called out for their double standard and feel stupid for a bit.

But yeah, I really enjoy her friendship with Turtle in the end. And since he accidentally made himself virtually indestructible, it means Peril can now get all the friendly hugs she craves.

Umber

Umber is cool. He has a potentially interesting relationship with Turtle, which is implied in the latter’s book when it is mentioned that they sleep with their backs touching to comfort each other about their respective siblings not being there.

Unfortunately he gets written out of the story arc very quickly. I wish I knew more about him.

Carnelian

I like Carnelian. I feel like she had a lot of potential that gets wasted by her death, for not much gain. It is used to give Queen Ruby a reason to come to Jade Mountain and kickstart the events of Peril’s book, but the same could have been accomplished by having her learn that the Academy is housing Peril and going there to demand the extradition of a (in her eyes) dangerous and murderous fugitive.

Same as with Umber, really, I wish I knew more about her. I already said this during my Smaugust drawing session, but I like to pretend that she and Bigtail didn’t die, and instead had a mini arc about recovering from their injuries. It also has the side effect of averting some very unfortunate implications that come with Bigtail’s death.

~~~

I think that’s all of them. Good lord I talk too much. Please don’t throw crocodiles at my face for it. Tumblr is my queen, and--much like the Queen's former champion--I was made to do it.

[timetravellibrarian]

He was intriguing. That was a word you could describe Trafalgar Law as. With his expression hidden behind that hat and his seemingly elaborate plans, there's no question he is.

At first when you had met him in the bustling groves of the Sabaody Archipelago you wouldnt have guessed he would become an ally.

The crew had split up, exploring the place known to be a stop for both pirates and nobles alike. You had ended up exploring the market for something new to wear, this time with your own money instead of borrowed money from Nami that lead to a perilous amount of interest.

Little did you know that you were as famous as your bounty poster suggested, bumping into crews that not only knew your friends but also you too.

First impressions matter, no matter where you are and who you're dealing with and the first thing you said when your gaze fell on him there was certainly a lasting impression.

The dark circles, the goatee, the large hat and especially the jeans.

The Surgeon of Death

"You look like a backalley doctor."

Not only did he look shocked, but also offended. Mainly because his own crew were hiding their guffaws horribly, seeing the vision of what you meant.

This was before everything had gone haywire and crews were forced to claw their way out of the doors of death from which Admiral Kizaru and the Pacifistas had the keys to.

Now sitting on the chair beside Luffy in the hospital room aboard the Polar Tang, having flashes of the war playing through your mind left you unaware of the footsteps approaching. The so called "Surgeon of death" had become part of your usual routine, mainly checking on your wounds and informing you on your captain's condition.

You watched as he checked Luffy's vitals. You never left your friend's side since that day, not trusting anyone. Afterall, he was the only one in the crew who's state of being you were sure of.

"Are you going to keep glaring at me the whole time?" His voice broke through your thoughts as you absentmindedly watched him take out bandages he would use to redress Luffy's wounds

"Hm?"

He rolled up his sleeves, allowing more of those tattoos to be visible as he washed his hands. Your eyes fell on those inked hands that both saved lives as a doctor and the cause of unknown terrors as a pirate.

"You're worried about Strawhat-ya?" He stated, lifting Luffy's body as carefully as he could under your harsh gaze.

"Partly," You began, crossing your arms, " I'm curious. Why?"

Law felt something invisible wrap around his neck as soon as his hands had gone off of your captain. He had heard about one of the strawhats having a mysterious devil fruit. One that didn't need the beholder to even lift a finger.

He smirked, feeling your power pressing harder on his neck and allowing little air to flow through his body,"Why?"

Somehow he kept a somewhat confused expression despite the dire consequences of your actions.

"I'm not playing around, Trafalgar."

"I know you're not."

He had a chance to just throw you and Luffy out into sea. You were both anchors afterall. Turn you in for your bounties. Tortured us for treasure. Cut your organs up for whatever sick operations landed him the title he held.

So many questions in your vigilant mind .

"I felt like it," Law said, not being fully honest but also not lying. His eyes didn't leave your face, gauging out your reaction.

"Sounds like something a backalley doctor would say." You let go of him, watching as he took deep breaths to control the panic that he has hidden behind his calm facade.

"DINNERS READY!" a yell from somewhere aboard the ship had called out.

"Sorry for that." You said, no longer looking at him and instead focusing on your unconscious captain. Your fingers had intertwined with his, feeling his pulse at the wrist with your fingers to remind you that he was still alive, even after all the death and destruction of the war

Law hummed in thought, hands lingering on his neck before letting go of the initial threat to his life." I'll have dinner sent to you."

He walked out of the room to join his crew, leaving you to your thoughts as you guarded Luffy.

Two things were decided. One. You wouldn't leave your captain's side until he would wake up.

Two. Trafalgar Law found you just as intriguing.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Mama Mine

I woke, that first time, to the most beautiful child I had ever seen. Even through a fever that felt like it was cooking me from within, I could see she was different. It was honestly impossible not too. She looked cherubic. Angelic. Impossible, somehow. As though favored by the gods.

Even in worn, threadbare, patched then re-patched old clothes, so far from new as to have forgotten the name of it, she looked... like a dancer. Beautiful. A tiny painting brought to life. I couldn't understand, delirious as I was. I thought I was hallucinating. Worried her terribly.

She was just a small thing. Trying her best. Too care for her sick mother. She could barely reach the stove. Struggled to carry the buckets of water she needed, to cook and wipe my fevered sweat away. But she let nothing stop her. So determined to save me. Her little face so filled with love and worry, forever a step away from tears.

She was so afraid.

How could I do anything but love her back?

Disoriented or not. Lost and confused I may be. I had a child. Any plan I made? Would be for two. I had never really seen myself a mother, but cast into the role? I refused to abandon the child who loved and needed me. Who was innocent in all this.

Instead, as my fever broke, I held her close. Told her she had been so, so brave. Let her cry. Cuddled my little girl and gave myself a moment to just... breathe.

Then in the morning I got to work.

I appeared to be a single mother. A PEASANT single mother. Delightful. We had little to nothing to our name. I could try and fix that, I think. I knew a few crafts. But I had "forgotten" everything practical. Great. Luckily? I had a VERY observant little helper. Who remembered most of how everything was done.

I could context clues from there.

We made due.

Cleaned up the house, washed the linens, aired everything out. In bits and pieces, using half remembered wiki binges and crafting videos, I improved our little homestead somewhat. It wasn't by MUCH. I didn't have the skills. But it looked... nicer, I think. Homey.

We foraged. Sold hunted animals and things we had found. The occasional baked good. More then that? I tried to make time for my daughter. Keep her away from powerful eyes. The sort that might covet a pretty young thing. Taught her what I could.

Not just how to braid her beautiful hair, but that her beauty did not define her. That love was wonderful but not all there was to life. Too be wary of empty promises and watch for how the powerful treat those that they deem weaker then them. To lead with a smile but be prepared to throw her fist.

Also don't eat those mushrooms, honey, those are the poisonous ones.

I wish... Honestly? I wish I could have given my daughter a better childhood. Better education then the lessons scratched in dirt I was able. If I'd been able to REMEMBER. To recognize. Maybe I would have scrimped and saved more for third or forth hand textbooks, instead of the new hunting knife she so badly wanted.

But I didn't remember.

And as we were visiting town? PROPER town as opposed to our little settlement? I heard about wealthy, comparatively, family's having their children tested for... magic?

I faltered but adapted. Was it that much stranger then being transported into a new body and world? Magic it was then, I guess. Huh. We continued shopping. I bought my daughter a new sturdy pair of boots. Room to grow, would serve her well. She adored them. They had FLOWERS on them, mama! I couldn't help but laugh. Ah, my daughter is so cute!

Then I saw it.

As we passed the temple square. The only building in this whole town that could count as ostentatious. Some silk clad toddler broke from the pressing crowds, no doubt displeased with being crushed in on all sides. He wriggled free. Back from the steps and out into the road. Blind to the mortal peril he had just put himself in as the carriage of some wealthy To-Do raced carelessly down the street. Looking around, innocent, as only a toddler can as he wandered farther and farther from safety.

I dropped my shopping.

The world fuzzy and muffled, far away in my panic. Some Mother's instinct SCREAMING as I raced forward. Throwing a few people aside to reach the road. Then bolting. Distantly I heard my daughter scream, another scream as they finally notice, too late, their child was in mortal peril. But all I could see... was the little boy. Turning. Noticing. The big scary horses.

About to crush him to death.

Time felt slow.

I got there.

Then PAIN.

Far away, people were screaming. A child was crying. Small and terrified in my arms. Some arrogant voice was first demanding, then stuttering, then begging. A frantic voice, joined by others. Rich perfume. The... the child reaching for someone. Safe? Safe. I let go. Tried to smile. Ah... my daughters voice. Crying. Shhhh, shhhh. I'm sorry. It's okay. I'm sorry.

Ah... there... there was so much blood.....

Then there was LIGHT.

Like someone had cupped the sky itself and poured it directly onto me. Blue. So light and weightless and blue. The pain vanished as though erased. New agony and old aches alike. My eyes blinked open in suprise. And there? Tear stained and glowing? Was my daughter.

Like the sky itself had wrapped around her. Sunlight and blue sky and drifting clouds. Swirling like she was the world itself. Her eyes filled with tears when they connected with mine. With a choked cry, she through herself into my arms. Oh, baby. My poor baby. I wrapped my arms around her tight. Hugged her back for all I was worth.

"Your daughter?" A gentle voice asked.

I looked up. What HAD to be a noble woman sat, skirts ruined, in the dirt and blood at my head. Clutching desperately at the toddler I had saved. I could only nod. Understanding passed between us. Mother to mother.

Which is why, when a priest with covetous eyes came forward?

The noble women's smile turned cold.

She had changed her mind. She was, in fact, going to have her son tested by the temple closer to home. AND? She was going to be taking us with her. I agreed. Immediately and before anyone could try to seperate us. Daughter mine, darling, honey, Get In The Carriage. NOW.

We got out of there while the getting was still possible.

It was safe to assume, my new noble friend eventually said, that my daughter had magic. But what did that mean for us? Well, according to Nation Law? (Oh goodie. Laws I know nothing about.) She would have to attend the Royal Magica Academy.

What.

I knew that name. I KNEW that name! My jaw was surely on the floor, my daughter squeeking out flustered and rambling questions at my side. But... but all I could do? Was slowly turn to look at her. She was healthier then the game cover. Not as "that's not what real women look like!" Thin that... that in hindsight? Was probably prolonged food scarcity. Starvation.

She was taller too. Less... oh god, less "child like". That had to have been malnutrition. Stunted growth.

The way her hair shown, soft and healthy. The brightness to her skin and nails. Clarity to her eyes. Fullness to her cheeks. She was hardly even within sight of being a plump child, more muscle then anything, from a life of work and survival, but? She wasn't... waifish. I had made sure of that.

Even if it meant sacrificing my own meals to do so.

But I could SEE it. Could SEE the familiar features. The curling hair and doe like grey eyes. The generic princess character that I had been playing right before... before... God, I couldn't even remember the game's NAME. Just the plot. It had been mid at best. Magnificent art. Everyone raving there was some secret twist after the first play through.

So I grit my teeth a pushed through the generic. Tried to figure out what it was.

Never did get the chance. I died before the second play through and the twist everyone insisted made the game awesome. Now I wish I had caved and looked up spoilers. I tried to remember the mother. Did she die? What happens to my baby girl? Should I push her towards one man or another? Let her follow her heart?

It's a long, long night.

We stay in a guest room. Fancier then anything I've ever seen in this life. I keep my daughter calm. Help her avoid embarrassing herself. Tips for when in doubt. See, honey? It's a learning opportunity! No need to panic! Mama's certainly not, on the inside! She's very calm. Completely, utterly, definitely very ultra calm. Ha ha...

I think my soul had a panic attack.

Things moved very quickly after that. In the end, they had too, if I was to keep my daughter safe. The temple would want to train her. Her magic was apparently quite rare. Religiously significant. And being so lovely? She would make an EXCELLENT propaganda peice. A figurehead and puppet, forevermore in gilded chains.

Everything I feared for her.

No. That was NOT going to happen.

The Academy it was. Nobles and their games aside. The education would be unparalleled. She could probably even make friends. Possibly find love. I told her to Be CAREFUL. That is was a treacherous but beautiful place. Filled with powerful people used to getting their way. Do whatever she must to survive. Thrive. Be happy.

And remember, she is loved.

I...Returning home alone felt like ripping my heart out. I had thought I would have years, yet, before my daughter married and moved out. That I would have time to adjust. Get used to the idea, as my future son-in-law came around. Instead? I returned from a trip to emptiness. A life interrupted.

My daughters sewing, still resting, waiting for her, on the kitchen table.

I collapsed. Weeping. In the entryway.

My tiny home had never felt so vast and hollow.

Days passed. Then weeks. Finally, a letter arrived. Delivered by a very uncomfortable servant. The man checking more then once if I was TRUELY who he was supposed to deliver too. Clearly more then a little uncomfortable in the presence of such poverty. I did not care. I had a letter, thick with writing, from my daughter.

She was doing well.

MORE then well. My lessons had actually put her ahead of the curve in several classes, much to the shock and outrage of her peers. They had expected poverty to equal mental deficiency, it seems. And the library was quickly making up for any classes she was behind in. That's my girl!

She had made several friends that way. Quiet young ladies, willing to help her make sense of the complexities of history or magical theory. From nice, stable, neutral houses, too. No tea parties yet. Or boys. But I didn't care.

My baby had FRIENDS!

I sent a care package of her things back. Not indiscriminately, of course. But tools and notes, a few unfinished projects she had been working on to pass the time. Some snacks from home. They would likely still embarrass her somewhat, but... I did not want her to think I did not CARE. That I had tossed her towards that Academy and promptly forgotten her.

The servant, Geoffrey, and I got to see quite a lot of each other.

He got over the state of my house rather quickly. Instead, started bringing things he "just happened to have lying around" that would you look at THAT? I happened to need! Between letters on my daughter's meeting, then dramas, with pretty wealthy boys? Geoffrey helped me repair my roof. I mended his uniform. We shared new year's festivities together.

I even went to the actual festival, like I was some sort of lovely young thing.

As my daughter grew closer to graduation, the questions started. If I could go anywhere, where would it be? If I could do anything? What if I never had to work again? I wasn't a fool. Told her in no uncertain terms. If I EVER suspected she married for anything less then love and herself, I would disown her.

I did not sacrifice so that my daughter would SUFFER.

However... it seemed there was more then a few things my daughter had left from her letters. The next letter arrived in the hand of a man that wore Geoffrey's face, but even as I walked back towards my cabin from the forest... I knew.

That was not the man I had grown to love.

When the imposter turned, no doubt to lie, I RAN. Dropping my harvest of foraged wild greens. I had been planning to make a dish for him. One he was fond off. Perhaps my daughter's magic came from me, my line instead of her unknown father, or perhaps I had just enough to give it wings. To carry her to term.

Because...

I knew he was dead.

They pursued me. Of course they did. But this was a forest I had wandered for years. I lost them in the trees. Attacked them with rocks and stones. Destroyed my trails with rocks and rivers. Every hunter I crossed paths with an ally. Every hunting trap a peril I could lead them into. They were good.

I was better.

But more came.

Then more. And more. And MORE.

And I was not so good as to fend of a legion. I would not risk the village for some nobles scheme. I was dragged, bloody, bruised before some arrogant little sadist. A nasty little creature, like a porcelain doll filled with bile. What an utter waste of good fabric. I told her as much. Interrupt her sneering little monolog.

The backhand across the face barely hurt.

Toddlers had more muscle.

Unfortunate for this brat. My daughter had arrived in time to see that. And worse for this brat, she brought her friends and suitors. A veritable crowd of power and influence. The brat did not have the common sense to shut up while she was ahead. Even I, a peasant, could recognize royalty on sight. There were at least two of them before us.

MY daughter was not as merciful as the Cannon Protagonist had been.

It was a blood bath.

I tried to stay awake. Head wounds and all that. I... I had wanted to introduce Geoffrey to my daughter. Hinted at it, over my letters. I would... would never get the chance now... oh god. Geoff. Geoff, forgive me. Tears welled up. I could not stop them. Just as I could not stand. Just as I could not move...

I was... was rather useless... wasn't I?

Familiar yet no longer familiar arms threw themselves around me. Cradled me close to a softly perfumed chest, locks of hair I'd know anywhere, shielding me from the world.

"Mama..." my little girl said. Her voice the very picture of heartbreak. "I'm sorry. I... I was too late."

One of her suitors untied me. The knight, probably, from the calluses I felt. But all I could think about was, wrapping my daught in my arms. Together for the first time in years. And it had to be like THIS? Oh gods. Why was fate so cruel?

My little girl had grown so big.

This was a grown woman in my arms.

I just... I just wanted this terrible night to END. And as my daughters power slid over me? It did.

I woke up in a guest room. He dear friend Agatha had INSISTED. Geoffrey had worked for her family. It... it brought relief. To mourn with people who had known him. He had apparently spoken of me. Quite often. The sap.

It... it wasn't fair.

But when was life ever fair?

My daughter visisted. Now that i was finally closer. Her suitors dropped by, to pay their respects I think. Possibly win me over, as mother of their lady love. They were awkward little things. It was adorable. I was patient. Listened. Prodded them when then froze up, uncertain of what to talk about. Got them rambling about their hobbies. Really, it was no great difference then most shy kids.

The visited more. Stayed longer.

Brought gifts.

The gifts were expensive, elaborate, and wildly impractical. I was forced to gently explain why I, a peasant woman, could NOT accept their gift of fist size gemstones. It started with "I will be robbed" and ended with "they WILL be certain I stole these, no matter WHAT documentation you give me. I will die". They were very confused and alarmed. Much like puppies learning that suddenly treats were somehow illegal.

Agatha herself? Was a delight.

A very "mob" looking young lady with a sharp wit and an old man's sense of humor. Her personal maid was Geoffrey's niece. That neither held against me what had happened? Spoke of both of their maturity and grace. They WOULD however, never forgive the house that ordered the attack. I much agreed.

I considered, going back to the village, but...

The memories were too raw there.

I decided to follow my daughter, settle near wherever she decided to go. She seemed thrilled at the idea. Somehow, word spread. On the next visit, the future "head of the mage's tower" and man of entirely too many titles, Valtaan mentions an estate he owns near the Tower. How it lies empty. Would be the PERFECT place for a mother-in-law, you know... if he had one. Lovely gardens!

Oh, really?

Then, the Knight mentions how HE'S going to be stationed up North. In a Great Big Fortress with SO many rooms. Just... just SO MANY. Entirely too many, really. Honestly, he should bring more people! Like a wife! And... and a Mother-in-law! Really fill up the place, you know?

Mmmmhmmm.

The Prime Minister to be? Oh HE talks of TRAVEL. Ever considered traveling? The Embassies are LOVELY. So much to DO around them. Foreign lands, beautiful locals, silks and lovely little treats.

You don't say....

The Duke is blunt about it, at least.

I have a castle. I have SEVERAL castles. Estates. He is aware you are not motivated by that, but it does leave you with options for where you want to live should your daughter decide to marry him. And he DOES intend to marry my daughter. Second husband if not the first. Motivated, aren't we?

I politely infor both prince's, the SECOND they sit down, before they open their mouth, that I like them. I do. A lot in fact. But it's not going to happen. It'll be a cold day in hell the day I let my daughter marry into the royal family and they both know exactly why. They pause... consider it. Then nod.

They agree.

Wouldn't wish this life upon ANYONE who had a chance at something better.

My daughter graduates, with HONORS. There is much gnashing are rending of clothes from the elitist base. Ha! Get fucked. I STILL have no idea what the "twist" is in the plot or if I was being punked. Also not a single clue which, if any, of her suitors she's chosen. Could be all of um. I could care less so long as everyone consents and is aware of each other.

The graduation party is, naturally, grand. I'm in a dress one of the suitors likely bought for me. Somehow, I actually look like I belong. Instead of dancing and reveling, my munchkins hover. As though afraid to leave me alone at my first Big Girl Party. I laugh, trying to shoo them away. Go, go!

My daughter stubbornly shakes her head, leaning against me, her dress complimenting mine. Though I doubt I could be half as lovely.

"Noooo~ I refuse! I will be staying Right HERE, Mama!" Her voice is playful but... there's something strained. Desperate, that's never really gone away I think. Not since the accident. "What if someone tries to take you AWAY? You're too pretty! You gotta stay with US, mama!"

I laugh out loud, completely missing the interested looks that glance my way. Well to do gentleman, widowers and respected servants alike. Long time bachelor's, who's eyes linger a touch too long on the length of my neck, the curve of shoulder. The way it dips down, past my collarbones towards someplace... interesting.

My crowd of young protectors DO NOT miss the looks.

Bristle like angry cats. Eye venomous and society smiles sharp enough too cut glass. There is a murder to their expression. A command to Look Away.

While you still have EYES.

"No, Mama." My daughter insists when I try to tell her she's wrong. That I am far from desirable. "I'm not letting go. Not EVER. We're FAMILY. And that means? That means you're MINE."

[oldwritingm]

I love your ninjago stuff. Could we get the ninja team reaction to y/n dying, then poof turned out it was just a nightmare as y/n is next to them when they wake up.

I'm glad you like my writing! :D Here ya go, friend!

Ninjago - Ninjas Having a Nightmare Where You Die

Zane

In the dream, you guys had been on a mission together

He calculated the exact amount of time it would take to escape the enemy base, which was set to lock down and then self destruct, and even left you with a timer so you'd know when to get going

He went ahead to clear the way and prepare the Bounty for pickup, trusting you to make it out in time

His calculation was wrong. The bounty was sent soaring with the shock of the massive explosion, and he watched in horror knowing you were still inside

He woke up with a start, frantically looking around the room

He realized that it was a nightmare, but he was still worried

Seeing you sleeping by his side, he let out a sigh

He just watched you for a while, thinking about the dream

He didn't want to wake you; you just looked so peaceful

Besides, your serenity was infectious; he began to relax as he watched your chest rise and fall

He quietly resolved to never, never, make such a mistake; he'd have to start double-checking his work

A little smile found his lips when he decided this, and he gradually lowered himself back onto the bed

He'd keep you safe, no matter what

Safe, like you were beside him now, with his arm draped over you protectively

Cole

The dream was actually a good dream at first

You were eating ice cream together in your favorite parlor in Ninjago

Cole was eating the best ice cream he ever tasted, and he was saying as much to you

He was completely distracted, so he didn't notice the suspicious group entering the parlor

Before he knew it they had attacked, leaving you on the floor while they ran away

He dropped to the ground, dumbfounded, horrified, watching the light fade from your eyes

His eyes flew open, and he found himself whispering your name

You woke up, turning over with a little groan to see what was wrong

He let out a loud sigh when he saw your face, and he hugged you close to his chest, planting a kiss atop your head

"Nothing. Nothing... just a nightmare."

"Mmm... okay... love you."

"I love you too."

He feels a lot better when you're in his arms, and he's able to dismiss the whole ordeal as a silly dream that he'd never let happen in reality

Kai

In his dream, you were both being attacked by a group of really strong adversaries

Kai was held back by just one of them, forced to his knees and unable to move

He was forced to watch as they executed you, completely powerless

He screamed and writhed, but it was all futile

He awoke in a cold sweat, shouting your name while he flew out of bed

You jumped out of bed too, assuming something was happening

When he saw you, he ran to envelop you in his arms

He squeezed you tight, tears falling down his face while he whispered into your shoulder

"I'm sorry... I—I wasn't strong enough..."

"Kai, what are you talking about? Are you okay?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can guess it was a nightmare

You hug him back, reassuring him that everything was fine

You tell him that he's strong, and at first he shakes his head, but he nods a little when you insist

Once he's fully reassured, he swears to always protect you, and holds you close while you fall back asleep

Jay

You were both fending off villains on a perilous cliffside

Failing miserably, you were forced to the very edge, and one final blow sent you over, plummeting to the hard rocks below

Jay dove over the edge, grabbing your wrist with one hand and holding the cliff with the other

But his hands were sweaty with nerves, and you began to slip

You pleaded for your life, begging Jay to hold on tighter

He awoke just before you hit the ground

He sat up with a start, looking around frantically

He shook your shoulder violently when he saw you

"Y/n! Y/n!!'

"Wha? Jay??"

"Oh thank goodness you're alive!!"

He describes the dream in detail, quivering at the memory

You bring his head to rest on your chest while you listen, nodding sleepily while he talked

He wonders anxiously aloud if something like that would ever actually happen

You have to reassure him that it was only a dream, and it'd never happen in real life

When he's finally calmed, he thanks you quietly

You feel tears beginning to stain your pajamas, and you run your fingers through his hair gently to calm him

The softness of the moment puts you both back to sleep :]

Lloyd

He dreamed that you had been captured by an Oni, one who particularly hated Lloyd

He was trying to rescue you, stealthily sneaking into the Oni's camp

But the Oni saw him, and a disgusting smirk grew on its face

He made eerie eye contact while grabbing you by your collar and forcing you to look at Lloyd

He executed you on the spot, laughing when Lloyd began to scream

He awoke with his heart racing and his breathing ragged

He whipped his head to the side, sighing loudly when he saw your peaceful face

The commotion he made roused you, and you smiled tiredly when you met his eyes

Then, noticing that he was distressed, you asked what was wrong

He described the dream in short detail, but you could tell it bothered him

So you nuzzled into his chest, assuring him that it was only a dream

He agrees with you, but he doesn't believe it until he's sure that you're really there

He runs his hands through your hair, around your back, down to your hands, and finally to cup your cheek before he's convinced

Then, planting a kiss on your lips, he's finally able to go back to sleep

Nya

In the dream, you were caught in a trap

The trap was a metal room, its walls set to grow closer together until whatever was inside was crushed

Nya was outside the room, panicking as she tried to navigate the trap's inner workings

She cut wires, smashed buttons, flipped switches—but none of it worked

She knew she failed when you let out one final shout and then went quiet

When she awoke, tears were already streaming down her face

But when she noticed you at her side, she threw her arms around your chest

You awoke, smiling at first and wrapping your arms around her waist in turn

But you frowned when you felt her quivering, as well as the dampness of her eyes

"Woah, hey, what's wrong?"

"I... just a horrible dream... stupid, really."

Nya sniffed, wiping her eyes and trying to smile for you

You knew that you couldn't coax anything out of her that she didn't want to share, so you just held her, telling her how much you loved her

Eventually she admitted what the dream was about, and you told her that it was totally unrealistic

She giggled a little at that, agreeing that she'd never fumble like that in real life

So, with satisfied smiles on both of your faces, you drifted back off to sleep

Thank you so much for this request,, it was so cute!! And thanks for reading, take care sweeties <33

(divider by saradika)

[tragedybunny]

Ok, this is gonna sound weird but... So there's this thing that some people do when they are with their SO, where they just bite them? Not real actual teeth-sinking biting, tho, more like mock biting (I think it's called playful aggression). Can we have your take on how Astarion would react to it?

So, mock biting is a thing I do frequently with my SO. It's soothing and I only do it to one person in this whole world because I have to be 100% comfortable with them. The below drabble is just pretty much based on my life. But I do think I've got Astarion's reaction truthfully.

Love Bites - Astarion x GN!Reader

Reader gets to nibble on Astarion for once.

The night was relatively peaceful. Well, as peaceful as it could get knowing there was an Elder Brain headed toward Baldur’s Gate being controlled by Chosen of the Dead Three. And that if he failed to usurp Cazador, he’d be banished back into the darkness when it was defeated. When, not if, he was certain you would prevail, nothing seemed to be able to stop you once you’d made up your mind. Even when it came to loving a disaster such as himself. 

Stealing a glance over the edge of the book he was reading, he caught sight of you, laying on his chest, similarly engaged in a book of your own. He couldn’t help the smile that it brought to his face. Someday you would come to your senses and find someone else, but for now he was going to enjoy every moment he had with you. Letting go of his book, his fingers drifted down, tracing along your ear, jawline, and then cheek. Closing your eyes you leaned into his touch with a smile of your own. Your lips trace along his palm, a soft kiss, and then, in a moment that makes him yelp ever so slightly, your teeth sink in. “What was that?” He’s not angry but certainly shocked at being on the other end of a bite for once.

“Sorry Love,” your skin is turning a darling shade of crimson, “I guess I got too relaxed and it just sort of happened.” 

The misery in your voice has him pulling you completely into his arms and kissing your forehead, he wouldn’t dare let you believe he was upset with you. “It’s alright Darling, just a bit of a shock. Is this something you do often?”

“Only when I’m really comfortable with someone,” you mumble, face buried in his shirt. “I promise it won’t happen again.” 

The words fill his chest with warmth, you’re comfortable with him, you trust him. “In that case it most definitely better happen again! And I will be very hurt if it doesn’t.” 

That finally causes you to look up at him, and he can see your embarrassment fading. “If it’s really alright with you…”

“Well it does only seem fair, given our usual circumstances,” he chuckles and puts his wrist perilously close to your mouth, an open invitation. When you gently nibble on it, he feels that same flash of elation he gets every time you say you love him. You hum happily, and the two of you resume reading, Astarion leaving his arm where you can bite down on it whenever you please. 

[kazumist]

EYES SET ON YOU .ᐟ

✩ — xiao realizes that his eyes were set on you the whole time. if it was since you made your entrance to the party or if it was since you met fifteen years ago, he doesn't really know.

✩ — prompt: felicity – the most chased after of the season asks you for a dance. (another entry for @xianyoon's event yayyyy)

✩ — includes: xiao x f!reader. fluff. cw: alcohol consumption (again,, it never gets old with me sawry) but there's only like two details about it, ooc!xiao pls i have no idea if i wrote him well during the second half. wc: 4164. kuni is reader's twin so you're technically the daughter of ei in this. some liyue and inazuma characters mentioned kinda. slight dual pov?? i guess ... yeah that's pretty much it. no beta i die like xiao almost did during the perilous trail quest tbh !!!

a prince should be confident, courageous, sophisticated, and dignified.

prince xiao checks out on most of those things. if anything, the townspeople in the kingdom of liyue take pride in their beloved prince. king zhongli is proud of his son as well as his older sister, princess ganyu. however, out of all the four traits stated above, there’s only one that prince xiao doesn’t count himself in: confidence. he isn’t referring to confidence when it comes to his abilities; heavens no, prince xiao knows and is proud of his capabilities (although not verbally; he had always been the reserved type of man even when he was a child) in terms of strength and wit. it’s more like the crowned prince of liyue doubts his abilities in terms of being sociable. having connections is a crucial thing for a man like him who’s currently in line for the throne after his father, as these connections could aid him when he takes king zhongli’s place one day. 

marriage, of course, was an inevitable thing. it’s a requirement, a demand that needs to be fulfilled, whether one likes it or not. king zhongli pities his son that he couldn’t escape from this predicament, but the king just assures his son that he should marry someone that he loves. having a loveless marriage has more cons than pros anyway. he wants his son to be happy, this is the least he could do for him.

…as well as the ball that he held in hopes of his son meeting someone of his interest.

it has been a short while since the ball started. many of the young women around xiao’s age had decided to make their move, yet all were fruitless attempts as xiao had already turned them down. they’d put on a forced smile, walking away but as soon as the prince’s back faces them, you could see their grip getting tighter around the fan in their hand if you squinted. xiao retreats back to his father's side, sighing in exhaustion. his social energy wasn’t really made for posh events like these. he looks at the crowd below, catching a glimpse of his sister talking to her friends and entertaining other guests. (xiao had wondered at some point why he was in line for the throne rather than his older sister, who is more capable of ruling than he is, but he soon realizes that it is how the royal hierarchy works.)

his eyes shifts themselves towards the entrance. he’s not surprised that people are still arriving at this hour because, as far as xiao could recall, his father had invited a few other kingdoms to this ball as well. yet xiao could vividly feel his eyes widen as he saw a familiar face that had made it’s entrance—yours.

and all of a sudden, xiao suddenly finds himself being seven years old all over again.

— — — — — — — — 

the young boy hid behind his father, his head peeking out ever so slightly as he eyed the child in front of him. it was a young girl who looked just around the same age as him. she was rather coy as well, as she clung to her mother’s hand. xiao looked at the child’s mother. he had heard of her before, of course. queen ei of inazuma—his father told him that she would be visiting today along with his daughter and son. though he doesn’t really see the son present at the moment. perhaps he didn’t join?

“my apologies for being a tad bit late, king zhongli. kunikuzushi really didn’t want to accompany us.” he heard queen ei sighed. well, that answers one of his questions, at least. king zhongli laughs at her words, “it’s quite alright. there are times when children could get rebellious against their own parents.”

“rebellious? i prefer to call it disobedient.”

his father chuckles again before reaching a hand behind him, patting the seven year old xiao on the head. “xiao, i would like you to meet (name). she’s queen ei’s daughter and is just the same age as you.” he gently says. zhongli knows that his son is not particularly fond of socializing, but he tries to get him out of his shell bit by bit. xiao steadily steps out, slowly stepping forward in front of his father. “(name), i’d like you to meet xiao. i told you that you’d be meeting him today, didn’t i?” queen ei softly says to her daughter. the child silently nods and lets go of her mother’s hands. she approached the young boy, lending out her hand for him to shake.

she stuttered in her words, clearly nervous. “i-i’m (name).” xiao reaches out and receives her hand, saying his name in return as he lets go. “well then xiao, why don’t you take (name) to the castle garden for the meantime? me and her mother are just going to have an important chat.” xiao heard his father. he nods in acknowledgement, and this time it was his turn to reach out his hand for the girl to take. (name) looks back to her mother for approval, eyes asking for permission to allow her to join xiao. “you can go; i’ll come and pick you up as soon as we’re finished.” she says, giving her daughter a little head pat.

hand in hand, xiao led her to the castle’s garden, where the gardeners planted all sorts of beautiful flowers located in liyue. xiao immediately leads the girl to where the qingxin flowers are located. but he doesn’t say anything when they get there—he doesn’t know what to say. should he state how this is actually his favorite flower? but he thinks that boys having favorite flowers isn’t allowed. should he say that this flower reminded him of her? the white flowers swayed against the light breeze in front of them.

“this… this is called a qingxin flower.” he starts. he doesn’t really know what he should say. might as well start with telling you what this flower is, right? “it’s pretty..” you say, admiring it. a fresh and minty scent wafts over your sense of smell. you’re pretty, xiao thinks. but he swallows his words instead and blushes at the thought. but it’s true, you are pretty. you had that small sparkle in your eyes that xiao finds himself captivated by.

your time continued on with you and xiao admiring other flowers such as glaze lilies and silk flowers until your mother and king zhongli entered the castle garden, a sign that their important chat is now over—and that (name) needs to head home. she bids xiao farewell with a small wave and a smile, while her other hand has a qingxin flower in her hold (xiao gave it to her as a little souvenir) and xiao finds himself doing the same. there were no actual goodbyes said, as they both silently hoped that they would cross paths once more.

— — — — — — — — 

the flashback ends when he hears your name being announced. the crowd below him whispered, as your family had already caught the attention of the ton. well, no one could really blame them. xiao noticed numerous things already. your hair had grown much longer, you had grown in terms of height too, and your strides as you made your entrance had confidence in them. this time, xiao noticed how much you took after your mother in terms of aura. queen ei, who’s aging like quite the fine wine, leads you and your brother, kunikuzushi, as you continue walking inside.

it has been fifteen years since xiao last saw you; your last meeting with each other was when they visited—the day you met. of course, you weren’t the little (name) that he met when he was seven anymore. even your brother had taken in some changes, xiao notices. he had spent a fair amount of time with your brother when he went abroad to study and train at the age of eight. this is also a reason why xiao didn’t really have the chance to meet each other again. kunikuzushi had a stern look on his face, while you had a calm one.

king zhongli smiles at the sight of the royal family of inazuma making their entrance. it has been a while since he and queen ei met, as their busy lives as rulers of each of their respective kingdoms are quite demanding. “why don’t you go down and greet them on my behalf?” zhongli muses. xiao simply nods at him, making his way towards kunikuzushi first—after all, he knows him more than he knows you.

“kuni.” he greets his old friend as he approaches the two of you. their mother had her on business to take care of, he supposes, as he takes notice of her sudden absence by her children’s side. “ah, alatus. it’s a pleasure to see you again.” he says. you looked at him in confusion and said, "i’m surprised you’re friendly with other people, brother.” kunikuzushi looked at you, offended by your remark. “sister, what do you simply take me as?” he replies with a forced smile since they were in public at the moment. you ignored your brother, doing a curtsy as you greeted xiao. “it’s wonderful to see you again, prince alatus.” she says.

again? so you remember that time too. “again? since when the hell did you two meet?” kunikuzushi asked. “around fifteen years ago, when mother visited the kingdom of liyue to discuss something important with king zhongli. you were throwing a random tantrum that day and didn’t want to accompany us. also do mind your words, brother. we’re in public for goodness sake,"  you replied, scolding kunikuzushi. 

“and you don’t really need to point out how i had a tantrum back then. i was seven!”

“we were both seven, if i may remind you.”

xiao watches the twins interact with each other. it was different from how he and his older sister would interact. but nonetheless, xiao is somewhat glad that there’s someone in kunikuzushi’s life who could match him in verbal terms. “whatever, how are you faring as of late, alatus?” his friend shifts the topic, giving you an eyeroll, to which you return with a slight jab to his side. xiao then grabs a drink from a refreshment table nearby, taking a slight sip. the taste of alcohol makes contact with his taste buds as he slightly smacks his lips after. “i’ve been...” he trails off. how has he been lately? xiao doesn’t recall. he’s been busy with all of these ball preparations and the mental preparation he needs to take when he is to be married. 

“well. i’ve been quite well.” he finishes. “i’m glad to hear that. i heard you’re looking for a bride this season?” kunikuzushi then asks. “ah, yes. my father thinks it’s about time i start to settle down.”

“what’s the rush? we’re only at the age of twenty and two.”

“he isn’t pressuring me to get myself married away, kuni. but he wants me to start looking now, hence why this ball was held.” xiao sighs. kunikuzushi looks at his friend in pity; well, he isn’t any different. marriage has seemed to be a recent topic as well for queen ei and her son. “excuse me, gentlemen, as i see a friend quite close. i wish the best for you, prince alatus. and brother, watch your behavior, will you?” you then said, stepping away. “hey, what do you—” the other sibling swallowed his words back down his throat, not wanting to suddenly raise his voice.

“god, what does she take me for?”

“someone not trustworthy enough to be left alone, as it seems.”

“shut it, alatus.”

— — — — — — — — 

alatus then encounters you again.

you were alone this time. and xiao had just escaped the horrific clutches of mothers showing off their daughters to him. “it’s nice to see you again.” xiao then greets you, taking the spot beside you. “mhm, same to you.” the silence wasn’t awkward—it was rather serene. both of you stood there, hiding away from the crowd. perhaps you weren’t someone who finds socializing all fun, preferring to be in your own little bubble instead. or perhaps you were also hiding yourself from the other nobles that have attempted to make a move on you.

“what brings you into a corner like this?” he decided to ask.

“oh, it’s... you know, not every noble is necessarily a pleasure to be in the company of, if you get what i mean.” you replied, choosing your words rather carefully.

in your peripheral vision, you see xiao then nod in agreement. so my second guess was right, he thinks. “honestly speaking, i promised my mother that i’d dance with at least one noble tonight. she wants me to step out of my shell, per se, since whenever i accompany her to balls like this, i usually just glue myself to her side.”

“at least you find yourself accompanying your mother either way. i don’t really escort my father a lot.”

“really? and didn’t you make your debut when you were just eighteen? that’s around four years ago already. “didn’t you make your debut at the same age? we’re simply allies in this boat, princess.” xiao then shoots back. you went blank for a moment, processing what he had called you. well, you were a princess. he wasn’t wrong about it, but why did it sound... something different when it rolled off his tongue? “touché.” 

maybe it was the alcohol that he consumed taking it’s effect on him, as xiao felt rather bold now, making a smooth step to stand in front of you. he wasn’t that drunk, but maybe it’s some sort of liquid courage. “well, if you promised your mother for her to be an audience of you dancing with a noble...” he reaches out a hand towards you. the sight is familiar—and this is when you started to realize that a lot of things have changed between you and alatus over the past fifteen years. “may i have the pleasure of being your dance partner tonight?”

you take his hand. “you may.”

widening eyes and hushed gasps weren’t everything you noticed as you and xiao casually made your way to the dance floor. kunikuzushi had his eyebrow immediately raised as he watched your arm linked with xiao’s walking together, pausing himself as he was about to take a sip from his drink in hand. “well, would you look at that?” king zhongli hums in amusement from above, queen ei turning her head to see what he’s looking at.

“my, well, i certainly knew she had taken a liking to your son when they were children, but i didn’t expect it to continue into adulthood.” the queen says.

a new song had just started as xiao took the lead. they swayed—to the left, to the right, forward, and around. with one hand holding yours and the other on your waist, he twirls you around. he then catches you in his hold once more, pulling you close. close enough to hear your steady breathing, close enough to admire your face, and close enough to get himself lost in your eyes.

the close proximity aided you in observing just how much had changed with xiao over the past fifteen years. he had grown taller; that is obviously for one. he wasn’t that shy anymore, as he is now rather demure. his eyes still fascinated you with their unique shade of yellow, as his pupils were sharp—it reminded you of a cat’s. his hair had a few highlights of a lighter shade of green, in contrast to his main hair color.

you then realize that everything has changed.

the scowling of both men and women envied the two individuals dancing in the center. after all, they technically lost. the other women had lost to the princess of inazuma and the other men had lost to the prince of liyue—they wouldn’t dare to even come between them. because as much as they would hate to admit it, both of you were a perfect match. you complement each other well.

then, something xiao had been concerned about for some time happened: the part where he would have to lift her up. it may have been the proximity, the intimacy, or just the fear of letting her fall because it would be difficult for her to stay upright in such heels if his hand slipped. the lady gave a little yelp and fell back to the ground, thankfully without breaking a bone, but there was no time to consider anything more despite the slow music. xiao raised her up with an erratic act of trust.

“what a strong gentleman you are.” you whispered in his ear, commending him for the successful dance move. all eyes were on you now, as everyone was too hooked onto your performance. it was alluring—you were alluring, xiao thinks. the dance then comes to an end as you bow to each other as a sign of respect. he guided you away, and you quickly sneaked in a kiss to his cheek when no one was looking, not even xiao. his eyes widened as he felt your lips come into contact with his cheek. he then raises his hand to feel the spot your lips landed on. 

xiao feels something in his chest, something rather warm.

— — — — — — — — 

after all this time, xiao is still not the one for long conversations. he prefers to indulge in a comfortable silence rather than spend his time in a bustling crowd. so naturally, xiao finds his way into the castle’s garden. he can’t really withdraw from the party; the season has just begun. maybe give him a good two or three more parties and maybe xiao could find a way out to leave early. his cheeks are greeted by the cold and gentle breeze of the night as he steps foot into the garden.

fifteen years is enough time for one to mature and grow up. you and xiao are aware of the dark side that society holds. but one thing hasn’t really changed: his love for qingxin flowers. xiao learned as he grew up. it’s that boys are actually allowed to have favorite flowers. (could you really blame him for thinking otherwise? he was just seven.) making his way to where the qingxin flowers are, he stopped in his tracks as he noticed that he wasn’t apparently alone in the area. 

the lightly dimmed lights that surrounded the garden are what helped xiao see that it was you who was standing there, admiring the qingxin flowers. you seemed to have sensed that someone was behind you, turning around to see who it was, and much to your relief, it was xiao. “prince alatus.” you greeted him again with a curtsy. “princess (name).” he greeted in return with a bow and walked closer to stand beside you. 

“it feels nostalgic to be here again.” you said. xiao stays silent, preferring to listen. “do you remember? you bought me here when we were seven. i remember myself being very shy back then.” you continued, laughing as the memory replays in your head. xiao tries to construct a reply. “mhm, do you know what a qingxin flower symbolizes?” he then asks. “not really. what is it?”

“affection and happiness.” xiao softly smiles. it was just a small one, as he reached out his hand to touch the flower before him. you glance at him, admiring the look on his face.

and suddenly, you found yourself being seven years old again.

— — — — — — — — 

she was nervous. very nervous. as far as she could recall, this was her first time meeting someone outside of their kingdom. she really, really wants to be friends with this xiao boy—she’s heard a few from her mother. so she doesn’t really want to mess up, but she doesn’t even know how to approach him!

as soon as they arrived, she first looked at the tall man in front of them. that should be… king zhongli! she thought that his description fit the one that her mother gave her when she described him. but she looks at her surroundings for xiao. she doesn’t really know what he looks like, since her mother only told her that they’re of the same age and that he’s a nice kid. but she soon notices something behind king zhongli—something dark green? she watched him as he peeked his head out from behind his father and joy washed over her. he’s here! she thought. 

although her expressions don’t really show it, she was overjoyed when she realized that she wasn’t alone. perhaps it’s a common feeling amongst children whenever they encounter someone their age, there’s a familiar force that pushes them to befriend that person. she was no different from that, of course, as this is how she feels towards the boy in front of her now.

after they had been introduced, xiao was holding her hand and directing her to their garden. she took in everything she saw as they walked past, including paintings, decorations, and other things on display. they stopped in front of a small field of pretty white flowers. “this… this is a qingxin flower.” she hears the boy beside her say. a qingxin flower? that’s a bit hard to pronounce… she thinks. as she leans closer to inspect the flower further, it’s minty scent meets her sense of smell. “it’s pretty…” she lets out.

xiao picks one qingxin flower; there’s apparently four on one stem. xiao then takes a flower from those four. she silently watches him, wondering what he’s going to do with it. as xiao stepped closer, she held her breath. she feels the familiar feeling of a flower being tucked behind her ear. she reaches out one hand to touch it. “m-my dad always told me to be nice to girls. but i don’t really know how but i hope that’s okay.” xiao then says, looking away as she giggles at the sight of his ears turning red.

“thank you, xiao!”

while she was on the way home with her mother, she had a huge smile on her face as she gently caressed the qingxin flower’s petals with her fingers. “did you have fun with xiao today, honey?” her mother asks. “mhm! he gave me this flower; isn’t it pretty, mommy?” she exclaims. the little girl then tells her mother about what happened while they were in the garden. queen ei smiles to herself at the sight of her daughter being enthusiastic about her interactions with prince xiao.

— — — — — — — — 

deja vu seemed to take over as you saw xiao pick a qingxin flower. even more when you watch him take another flower from the four. you were replaying the memory of the day you met inside your head but surely you’re back in reality, right?

you breath hitched when xiao stepped closer, tucking it behind your ear again.

“are you perhaps taking me on a trip to memory lane tonight?” you chuckled. xiao simply smiles in return as he steps back. maybe, he swallows the response down his throat. “i realized something tonight.” he then says. “hm? and what might that be?”

xiao was never the type who would say a lot of things. he usually kept his thoughts to himself, hiding them in the back of his mind and dismissing it right away. but for once, he finds himself rambling. “that despite the fact i’m rather modest or demure and the fact that i’m not really an individual who is up for long conversations, i find myself enjoying sharing a silence that’s covered in tranquility. i am a mundane man, (name), yet in spite of that, i can’t help but yearn for an individual like you to accompany me for the rest of my life.” surprised at him for dropping the formalities, you still listened.

“i—forget that. my apologies. i doubt there is anyone who could compare for a woman like yourself in the first place. we aren’t the same seven year olds that spent their afternoon in this exact garden anymore. a lot—if not everything—has changed between us. so let me be selfish for once: would you accept my invitation for a mundane life? you don’t have to feel obligated to give a response now.” you took another qingxin flower from its stem; only two remain now. it was your turn to step closer.

“i won’t give my answer now, xiao.” you start, dropping the formalities with him as well. “this is all rather shocking, after all, but promise this: once summer comes around, there will be a summer festival held inazuma as it does every year. can you promise me your attendance? the sight of the fireworks prepared by the naganohara family is certainly one to commend.”

“i promise.”

xiao then realizes that he had his eyes set on you this whole time—whether the past fifteen years are counted or not, that’s for him to keep.

[spiritsglade]

"You know, I'm starting to think that I'm not very good at hide and seek."

The cactus studied Peril without judgment. That was nice of it. It looked very stately sitting there, despite how fluffy it looked. The desert wasn't too bad, the texture of sand familiar and the sky so open she felt like she could fly forever.

"You aren't going to find me by talking to a plant."

Peril jumped, then yelped; her snout bumped into the cactus—it was not as fluffy as it looked—the spines caught fire—

The fire was gone as quickly as it arrived, the cactus unperturbed beyond a patch of missing fluff. Peril raised her head, feeling not nearly as as dignified. "I'm starting to think you have an unfair advantage."

Glory snorted, her voice towards the right, Peril came up empty as she scanned the dunes. "You did well when you were hiding!"

"Burrowing under sand is the worst experience I've had in my life."

The cactus suddenly seemed a lot more judgmental.

"After the murdering, I guess."

"After the murdering," Glory affirmed, but she broke down into giggles a moment later, a tremor that shook her frame just enough to mess up the camouflage. Peril spotted the fluctuating landscape immediately, triumphant.

"Aha! There you are."

Orange eyes blinked out of thin air at her, narrowed. "Oh you planned this."

Peril grinned. "I would never."