#I'm realizing I have way too many muses

[hirazuki]

So, all usual concerns and subject matter aside, I think there is one very important aspect of Eöl's character that I rarely ever see touched upon, and that is the fact that he is, objectively, a horse girl.

Like -- my good sir, you live in the middle of what is, by all accounts, a dense, dark, magical forest with all sorts of winding paths and the tallest trees in Beleriand; it sounds like an absolute nightmare for any kind of hoofed quadruped to navigate (except perhaps deer and goats, but they are insane and therefore outliers, so they don't count). What do you need all these horses for??

He never really leaves home, other than occasionally to visit the dwarves; I can understand having maybe two or three horses, for travel and as backups. And yet, he has enough of them that -- with Maeglin on one, Aredhel on another, and himself on a third -- he can not only change his out for a fresh horse, but also have his pick of "the swiftest that he had," implying that, even with those three absences, there is still a sizeable group remaining at home in Nan Elmoth.

Clearly, there is but one answer here and, personally? As a horse girl myself? It explains so much about him.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

bluetooth j.t.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: A little suggestive if you squint

Word Count: 1.2k words

You don't know how you allowed yourself to get manipulated into being a girlboss and moving out of your childhood home to live in your own apartment. While it was nice to have your own privacy and decorate your home however you liked, you realized just how many privileges you lost now that you weren't in the care of your parents.

There was no one there to make sure you woke up on time in the few cases where you slept through your alarm, no one that you could call on your way back from work to ask to switch on the water heater so you could take a steamy shower immediately.

You didn't have your mother's homecooked meals and you didn't have your father to pick you up snacks from the grocery store.

And one of the biggest thorns in your side was the reason you were dreading the entire day. Car maintenance. The auto shop was one of the most daunting places in your life as a girl who knew nothing about cars. Never once had you regretted not learning how to take care of your car or even the procedure required when you eventually take your car down to the auto shop.

But now standing in the hot and dusty garage, you were seriously rethinking your life choices. You should've scheduled these things for when your dad was visiting so you could ask him to take it instead. Or, even better, you should've gotten a boyfriend.

You were complaining in your head, dragging your feet about having to be here in the first place and whined about handing your car keys, with a bunch of adorable keychains attached to some rando.

But when Jason Todd, 6'2 man with biceps that were larger than your own head and a body that looked like he was shaped out of marble by Michelangelo himself walked out with a form for you to fill out, you were all too happy to be there.

Perhaps you'd be leaving here with a boyfriend after all.

"I have to admit, I don't really know much about cars so please don't scam me."

Jason chuckled, a deep, hoarse laugh that made you a little weak in the knees honestly and the boy-crazed fraction of your brain began to imagine how he would sound as soon as he woke up next to you, after a night of—

"A bit of advice, you probably don't want to let scammers know that you have no idea what they're talking about."

You giggled, scolding yourself mentally for finding that funny.

'Come on, (Y/N), pull yourself together it wasn't even that funny. His face is just great delivery.'

"Or I could keep coming here and have you check my car, since you're so trustworthy." You mused, sparing him a teasing smile.

Jason was completely picking up what you were putting down, giving you a coy smile of his own before responding, "Or perhaps this is just a tactic to get you to keep coming back."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Devious."

Looking back at his little clipboard, a thin metal rod of some kind tucked behind his ear instead of a pen, Jason asked, "When was the last time you got your car checked out? If your battery and brake pad was replaced recently, we could probably skip that and just do a routine check to make sure everything's running smoothly."

You winced, "I couldn't tell you, honestly. My dad usually handles this kinda stuff for me, I'm still kind of a new lamb when it comes to taking care of my car."

Jason raised his eyes from the clipboard for a second, "Your boyfriend can't do this kinda stuff for you instead?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

He perked up immediately and you ducked your head to hide your smile, "I'm sure you probably have a record of it in your glovebox or something. Most places keep a little sticker with the date of your last service under the dash. I'll check it out for you, do you have somewhere to be, or do you have a couple minutes so I can make sure?"

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders with a carefree smile, "It's my day off so I'm free as a bird."

He grinned, "Noted. Just give me a second."

You watched his back receding as he walked toward your car, shoulders looking like they could span the entire ocean and it was only when he was sat in the car and had turned on the engine did you whip out your phone at lightspeed.

"Ohmygosh Julie, I think I just met my future husband. Holy shit. He's so cute—gorgeous actually. He's working on my car right now and God, those arms, wow. And those eyes? God, I feel blessed just by looking at his face." The end of your message was interrupted by another mechanic running the engine.

You waited patiently for the sound of the engine to die before replaying the voice message so you could re-record the part that got cut off. Only you couldn't hear a thing.

Confused, you increased the volume, taking a sip from your coffee to soothe the inhumane squeal that you had let out while sending Julie the voice message. Once again you heard nothing.

You bit your lip at this, swiping down at the corner of your phone at access your control center and realizing the reason you couldn't hear anything was because it was connected to the Bluetooth on your car.

Wait.

THE CAR?!

You whipped around in horror only to find Jason smirking at you from the front seat of your car. If the world were fair, you'd be struck down with lightning right then and there. Or, since you were at an auto shop, a sentient car might run you over.

Alas, you continued to stand there in horror, completely unharmed no matter how badly you wished to be reduced to a puddle on the ground.

You called him your future husband. The ground should've swallowed you then and there. Instead, you just stood there in complete mortification and embarrassment while you stared at his amused expression.

Something startled him out of his gaze for a second and he pointed at your console, making a gesture like he was taking a call. Confused, you glanced at your phone.

'Incoming call: Julie'

Ah, saved by the bell.

*

"How much do I owe you?" You asked, quickly popping open your purse to fish out your credit card. You had stretched out the conversation with Julie as long as possible, begging her not to hang up and only interrupting her tangent when Jason finally came up to you, saying that your car was good to go.

"It's on the house." He gave you a charming grin, leaning an arm against the counter, "Can't have my future wife paying for anything, can I?"

Your cheeks flared red, still holding out your card for him to take, "O-Oh, I couldn't, really."

"If you insist, then you can always repay me with dinner. Today's your day off, right? Think you can pencil me in for 7?"

A shy smile grew on your face, your body so warm you had to resist fanning your burning cheeks, "Sounds like a plan."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

[nostalgicmiscellaneous]

Now that we have confirmation from Colin's mouth how much Pen not answering to his letters affected him and his behavior because he felt alone, missing her, abandoned by her and his family, their interaction in S3 part 1 becomes fascinating. I recommend you all to watch the entire season. With the knowledge we have, now that we know his feelings were already confusing him, it adds so much depth to his actions. We know now that he was truly peacocking towards her when he went to find her and she was cold to him because of what happened S2E8. We know he was using his charm to try to work on her - because he hoped it worked, that it would charm her too - but was truly being genuine when he said "I Miss You". He had missed her, he misses her and he feels quite empty. His apology and need to connect with her. Thinking that helping her would make her but also him, specially him, feel better, as she was with him, he felt good with her around. His vulnerability talking about LW shading him. Then we see him realizing how much he loves her company, how much it bother him when her attention is on any other men. Him realizing that yes, missing her so much has a reason...Can you imagine his mind? And when he received praise and admiration from the very person he was craving attention? And it makes the hard fall when he discovers LW harder for him to swallow...because everything she said to him and that pleased him so much was a lie, because she's LW and LW talked badly about him. I'm rewatching all episodes of season 3 and i'm having so many great moments with what we know about him now. and It makes his reticent behavior to kiss her even more sweet because it's almost like he's afraid it will confirm something to him, confirm he does have romantic feelings for her. He is insecure there too, because he already knows by then he's feeling something but she's asking for a kiss that will mean nothing, that she says it's just because he's a friend and she has never been kissed, nothing special to her, something practical. He wasn't down fast, i already didn't think so without knowing with spoken words, but now it's confirmed to us, he had been musing about his feelings for her for quite some time. He thought he lost her and then he though he got her back and maybe even more so now that he can understand his feelings and have a chance to make her feel that way too, but she wants distance and that their kiss, that meant everything to him, will never happen again. And with Debling showing up and trying to take her away, to distance her even more, and she seems to like his attentions, must have been hell and Luke played that so well, the longing, the loss and the understanding. Do it, watch it again with everything we now know about Colin, it makes everything so bloody great. There is whole summer where Colin was our Pen and now we have a very good glimpse of that, when we look at everything now with his perspective in mind.

[forever-rogue]

you asked for fallout request, so here i am, eagerly writing this…

i’ve been craving a cooper howard x reader oneshot where him and the reader are navigating through life in their own way. maybe a run in with tricky people?? angst?? fluff??? it’s up to you best friend. THANK YOU!!!

AN | Alright, let’s goooo. First go around with Cooper and we had to go with some fluff because that is my specialty. I’ve loved Fallout for a long time and I love the show too❤️

Pairing | Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x fem!reader

Warnings | language; gun violence

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Main 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't sure if you'd call yourselves friends.

More like…an unwitting duo of sorts. Unwitting on your end more than anything.

You'd promised him that you absolutely didn't need company or anyone to assist you. He'd insisted that the only way he'd let you go on your own was over his dead body. You'd contemplated that idea for a few moments. Given his reputation, you decided not to push him too much.

The realization that he was a stubborn old man who wasn't going to change his mind was the only reason he was still next to you. Begrudgingly, mind you.

“How much further, darlin’?” His deep voice cut through your internal monologue and you shot a glare in his direction, “I'm starting to think you're not the best judge of distance.”

“If you're just going to complain,” you pointed over your shoulder back to the last town you'd passed through, “you're more than welcome to go back and terrorize that town. I told you that I didn't need you to come with me.”

“And why would I listen to you, huh?” He rolled his eyes lightly as you scoffed, “you'd be dead before the sun went down, sweetheart.”

“So what?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards so you could face him, “why do you care?! You don't even like me!”

“Contrary to what you believe, I do have somewhat of a conscience,” his voice was gruff but somewhat soft, “and if I let you go and then heard that you were killed, I'd be a little annoyed.”

“Why?” 

“Because I’ve already saved your life once,” he so sweetly reminded you as you sighed heavily, “and I didn't just save your life so you could go and be killed by someone else.”

“Ain’t that sweet? You’re a modern day prince,” you mocked his twang as his expression refused to shift. It was almost annoying how unfazed he remained the majority of the time, “I had it handled. You happened to come at an inconvenient time.”

“If that's what helps you sleep at night,” he had to fight to hold back a laugh as you turned back around and you marched in front of him, making it a point not to look back at him. He had to be the most infuriating person you'd ever met. He'd had two hundreds years to perfect being annoying and he had done exceedingly well.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you had been traveling together for a number of days. You'd managed not to kill each other, luckily, but otherwise things had remained mostly the same. Silence, and if it wasn’t silence, it'd be harsh words and fast quips.

You didn't hate him - not really. You hated the idea that anyone, let alone a man, believed that you needed help. You'd had things handled and would have kept yourself safe. He'd just happened to come fight when you were in the midst of either killing or getting killed. 

He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. That much you already knew about him.

“It’s cold,” you announced as the two of you made camp for the night. You pulled your jacket tighter around your frame but it was no use, “I’m cold. Can we make a fire?”

“That, princess, is one of the many reasons you need someone out there to keep an eye on you,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost have thought that he was being kind - nice. 

“Listen,” you sat down and leaned against one of the trees near the clearing you’d decided to call home for the evening, “I know it’s not exactly safe or the best idea, but I’d rather do that than freeze.”

“It ain’t even that cold,” he mused, stripping off his overcoat and tossing it over to you. You made a sound of surprise, but didn’t hesitate to put it on, “life really was different for you, wasn’t it? I’d say it was almost as easy as those vaulties had it.”

“It wasn’t…” you knew he wasn’t wrong. You’d come from a place of privilege, having been born into a family with wealth, new world wealth anyway, and had it pretty easy for a surface dweller. You’d lived in a large, well stocked and safe home with people around to do your bidding. Those were some of the perks of having a father that was some sort of merchant prince, “it wasn’t like that.”

“Yeah?” he rolled out his bedroll, a bitter laugh escaping him, “sounds like you had nothing to do and everything done for you.”

“I mean…” you trailed off, knowing it was futile to lie to him. He’d known your father after all; Cooper Howard was the one sent to fetch you and return you home once your father had found out you’d run away, “it was…good sometimes. There were a lot of bad times too. But I still know how to do things for myself. I could kill you with my bare hands if I wanted to. I’ve done it before.”

“Huh,” he grabbed a vial and downed it one go, his eyes never leaving your face, “guess that makes you a killer. Just. Like. Me.”

“I did what I had to do,” you swallowed thickly, blinking back tears that threatened to well up. Cooper knew that you had run away, but he didn’t know the full extent of what had happened to cause you to run away, “and we’re here.”

“Tell me what happened,” your eyes snapped to him as you tried to weigh his words in order to see if he was being serious or not. He’d never really taken an interest into your personal life, but you wondered if that was because he genuinely didn’t care or if he’d just created some sort of creed for himself that didn’t allow him to get close to anyone, “what made you run away from your sweet little life, darlin’?”

“Cooper,” you wiped your hands on your thighs and shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. You’d never really said his name before and that caught him off guard, “does it really matter?”

“It’s still buggin’ you, clearly,” he mirrored your position and crossed his arms over his chest, “and we ain’t got nothing but time.”

You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling and looking at the sky. You could feel his attention still focused on you, “my father told me that there was a man I was going to marry. I told him no and he told me that I didn’t have a choice. Said man found me shortly before the wedding was supposed to happen and he…he tried to…”

You paused for a moment, wiping away the tears that had unwittingly rolled down your cheeks. Cooper’s gaze had darkened but he was still watching; the expression on his face looked like he was ready to commit murder.

“He didn’t get a chance to do anything,” you said softly, “I killed him before he could. But he managed to get me a little bit when he was trying to fight me off. That’s why I had a black eye and all the bruises.”

“Darlin’-”

“I didn’t hesitate, Coop,” your expression steeled as you looked him in the eyes, “and I won’t hesitate now. A man will never tell me what to do. And I don’t need anyone thinking I need someone to protect me.”

Cooper had been listening with rapt attention, his mind already thinking of the things he could do to your father.  Bringing you back to him definitely wasn’t one of those things. He’d made up his mind about that almost the moment he’d met you. You’d been sporting a black eye and cut lip, dried blood caked on your hands and arms. He was smart enough to put two and two together.

“For what it’s worth,” he looked back at you with the gentlest expression you’d seen on him, “I’m sorry for what you had to go through. Those are not men, those are monsters.”

“And you’re going to bring me right back to him,” it was a question presented as a statement. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan with you was; you’d been scared to ask. But he also wasn’t hadn’t mentioned a word of bringing you back to your father, “aren’t you?”

“I ain’t bringing you back,” he admitted and you couldn’t keep the surprise off your face, “I never was. I’ve been around a long time, little girl. I know what your father is. I figured it was a better option for me to find you than someone else.”

“You’re not?” you hated how small your voice sounded; how you almost sounded scared. In a way you were. Scared of going back to the place that you hated and would surely make sure you suffered, but you were also scared of forging a new path. You didn’t really know where you were going or what you were going to, “really?”

“On one condition,” of course. You waved your hand, motioning for him to go, “you admit that you have no clue where we’re going and we’ve basically been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

You tried to look serious for a moment, but you couldn’t help but start to laugh at how well he could already read you. Cooper was so taken aback by the soft, sweet sound that he couldn’t help the smile that tugged up the corners of his mouth. When you managed to catch your breath, you looked at him and cocked your head to the side, “I have no clue where we’re going and we’ve been making this hell of a trek for no real reason.”

“Honesty,” he pulled one of his knees toward his chest and drummed his fingers on it, “it’s refreshing. You’re gonna be alright, kid.”

“There’s a place,” you murmured after a few moments of silence, “that my mom told me about when I was little. She made it sound like this magical place. I guess really, that’s where I want to go.”

“I hate to break it to you,” Cooper said, “but magical places don’t really exist. They never really did.”

“I know,” you admitted softly, “it just seemed like that when I was young. She died a long time ago, but I’d always think about that place, going there someday.  She said it was west - just go west and you’ll know when you’re there.”

“Hmm,” he nodded and paused for a moment before getting up and grabbing some nearby sticks and bringing them to the center of the clearing. He started making a fire before you could even question him, “if it draws anything out, I’m sure we can handle it.”

“Thanks Coop,” you watched him work, an odd feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. Once the fire was going, he settled down near you, “Cooper?”

“Hmm?”

“We are going west, right?” your question caused him to chuckle before he reached into his pocket and pulled something small out that he passed over you. It was a small silver compass worn and weathered just like him.

“I’m sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but we’ve been goin’ east for the last couple of days,” he shrugged as you groaned at yourself. At least you didn’t have anywhere to be at any particular time, “had I know we’ve been searching for a magical place, I could have told you we were going the wrong way.”

“I guess I’m not as handy as I thought,” you grumbled to yourself, clutching the compass tightly in your hand, “you know you don’t have to come, right?”

“I know,” he nodded, “you think anyone could force me to do something against my will, you don’t know me at all, sugar. Now stop your yapping and get some rest. We’ll start heading west at sunrise.”

You paused for a moment, pulling his coat tighter around you, “thanks, Coop.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of days of trekking passed in relative peace. The two of you were now making your way west for whatever magical place your mom had made you dream of you. You weren’t sure why Cooper was still with you, but you weren’t about to complain. He provided some decent company since you’d had your little heart to heart, but he owed you nothing. You weren’t exactly complaining; he was the closest thing to a friend you’d had in a long time.

But, as things would have it in the wasteland, life threw a wrench in your plans. A wrench in the form of two raiders that definitely weren’t looking to get chummy. 

“Ugh,” you groaned as the two figures approached from a distance. The two of you were outside of a saloon, trying to decide whether to keep pressing on for the evening or staying put and turning in. Cooper followed your line of sight and made a sign of annoyance, “why do I feel like they’re going to make trouble?”

“Well, darlin’, that’s because they’re about to make trouble,” he touched the brim of his hat and pulled it further down. 

“Look who it is,” one of the men sneered at the two of you. He looked about as unfriendly as they came, “the Ghoul of the hour and his little bounty.”

“We heard you were having some trouble delivering her back home,” his partner came up and eyed you without shame. He looked disgusting with greasy hair and rotting teeth, a sinister expression on his face, “so we came to take over.”

“Go fuck yourself,” you spit at him, reaching for the dagger that was at your side. You felt Cooper reach for your hand and gently squeeze it in order to stop you from making any rash moves.

“What this charming sweetheart means is that she is not going back with you,” Cooper smirked at them, “so you can run along now.”

“Fucking Ghoul,” the first man snarled at him, “you couldn’t even do your job. Turn the bitch over and we’ll let you go alive…or whatever the hell you are.”

“You can go back to my father and tell him that he can go fuck himself too,” you hissed, blood boiling with sheer annoyance and anger, “and if you don’t turn around right now-”

“What?” His voice was sticky sweet and filled with vinegar as he smiled at you; both of them had pistols in their hands and that made your stomach churn. They could easily get the jump on you, “you’ll kill me?”

“No,” Cooper pushed you behind him and looked at them with a grin on his face. Of course he’d  be enjoying this, “but I will.”

“Why don’t you just-” but the man couldn’t get another word in as the sound of the gunshot rang through the air, causing you to stumble backwards and cover your ears. A second shot rang out within seconds and you saw the other body fall to the ground. 

It happened so fast that you couldn’t help the shock that ran through your body, causing you to let you let out a loud sob. You’d seen death before, you’d seen things much worse than before but there was something about the moment that was overwhelming. 

Blood spattered the side of the building, causing you to dry heave as you noticed the bits of brain and bone clinging to it. Your ears were still ringing as you tried not to completely lose your grip on reality.

“Hey,” you heard his voice cut through the fog and you felt his hand on your shoulders, helping to keep you steady and upright. You shifted your gaze up and found his eyes concerned, “hey.”

“I-I…” you couldn’t even form a proper sentence as you looked at him, “they…you. You saved me.”

Before he could even respond, you threw your arms around him and held tightly onto him. He was taken aback for a moment before he hugged you back, and you could feel his breath of relief. There was something so good and reassuring about the feel of his arms around you.

“You would have had it handled,” he insisted and you shook your head. 

“No,” you looked at him and to your surprise he gently wiped away your tears, “I couldn’t have. I couldn’t have saved myself this time. Thank you.”

“No need to thank  me, darlin’,” he took your chin in his hand and kept your gaze on his, “I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“I do,” you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and nodded slightly, “I do need you. Don’t go.”

“The only place I’m going is west,” there was that smile again, the one that rarely graced his features. The same one that made your legs feel like jello, “are you comin’?”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m coming.”

“Well then, we best get goin’ sweetheart,” he glanced over the carnage that he left behind, “before someone else comes to make trouble.”

He checked himself over to make sure he had everything ready to. You missed the feel of his touch almost immediately. 

Once he made sure he had everything, he held his hand out to you.

You took it without hesitation. 

[surielstea]

Schools Out!

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader are in charge of picking Nyx up from school, but Az doesn’t like the way the teacher looks at his mate.

Warnings: innuendo of having kids

1.5k words

The final bell rang and children flooded from the brightly painted doors with wide grins on their faces as they lugged on their backpacks.

I stood beside a looming Azriel with a bright smile on my face as I waited for Nyx to exit the classroom. Feyre and Rhys had an emergency shipment at the art studio they needed to tend to and I was quick to jump at the opportunity to pick the young boy up from class.

Azriel— who has slowly become my personal shadow, goes wherever I go, so I wasn't surprised when he grabbed my wrist and led me to the front door without so much as a word.

A head of blue-black hair comes bounding out of the classroom. His sky-blue backpack hangs halfway off his shoulders as he talks to his teacher, looking up at the male as he clung to his hand.

Kids quickly found their parents but Nyx seemed too intrigued with his teacher to notice Azriel or I waiting.

People stared, perhaps it was Azriel's shadows swishing around us protectively or his large black wings, not many knew of the Illyrians and only about their reputations, I didn't blame them for staring, I wouldn't want the Illyrians near my kid's school either— but none of their eyes were on him, but rather on me.

Azriel's scarred hand snaked around my waist protectively and I smiled at the sentiment, my hand coming to his in an act to soothe him.

Nyx's eyes snag on us and his expression brightens. "Auntie! Uncle Az!" He rushes towards us, practically flying into my arms with a flap of his growing wings. "What are you doing here?" The boy asks excitedly. "Your parents are busy so we're here to pick you up," Azriel says, while I adjust him in my arms. "And, we might stop at the ice cream shop on our way home," I add, eyes flicking to Azriel with a mischievous grin, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as Nyx's pupils practically morph into hearts.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," An unfamiliar voice sounds and my head whips up to see a tall male with a polite smile and finger-paint stains on his grey button-up. "Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx exclaims as if he hadn't just been with the teacher. "Hi Nyx," The male smiles at the boy, then looks back to me. "Nyx talks highly of you," A smirk curves his lips as his eyes linger all over me. Azriel's arm tightens protectively around me. "The both of you." The blonde corrects and I scoff a laugh, waving him off. "He does the same for you." I smile at him, setting Nyx down on his feet, his hand going into mine. "Always going on about Mr. Lockwood, you seem to make his day." I muse and Azriel's hand leaves my waist in order to pick a wanting Nyx up. "Please, call me Ezra." He presses a hand to his chest humbly and my brows raise a fraction.

I can practically feel Azriel tense beside me at the rushed familiarity. I bring my hand up to his bicep reassuringly as I continue my conversation with Nyx's favorite teacher.

"Right, Ezra," I smile politely at him, dragging my hand down Azriel's arm until reaching his hand where I intertwine our fingers. The teacher looks at our hands, at Azriel's scars I realize, watching as he swallows a lump in his throat. I bristle at the act, wondering what's so wrong with my mate's hands.

"Oh—" He catches the glare I'm subconsciously giving him and pulls a clipboard that was tucked beneath his arm.

"I just need you to sign here before you leave since you're not one of Nyx's biological parents." He holds the paper towards me. I skim through the fine details, the form essentially saying that Nyx's parents had consented to Az and me taking their child home.

I spotted the blank section at the bottom that I had to sign. "I'm sorry, I don't have a pen." I pad my pockets but find them empty.

Mr. Lockwood reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a red pen, but before I can take it, shadows appear before me, holding a blue pen. I looked to Mr. Lockwood who was staring down at the shadows anxiously, like the dark tendrils might eat him alive— and if my hand wasn't in Azriel's the spymaster might've let them.

I choose to take the blue pen, pulling it from the dark tendrils with a grateful smile and they happily whisk away, down towards the ground where they pooled at my heels. Mr. Lockwood puts his pen back in his breast pocket with a slight drag in his movements, as if in defeat. I sign the space with a big looping signature then hand the pen back to my mate. "Thanks, Az," I hum, he simply nods and takes it from my hold. I turned back to the teacher who was staring at the both of us like he was beyond confused as to why we were together.

It was no secret Azriel and I were pure opposites. One could tell just by looking at my pink gowns and white skirts compared to his black leathers— but it went deeper than just our clothes. I was typically the center of attention when it came to social events while Azriel preferred to observe me. I was always talking his ear off while he just nodded and chimed in every now and again. So when we met strangers it was always a shock to them when they found out we were mates.

"All done here?" I tilt my head, knocking the blonde from his stupor. "Uh— yes." He tucks the clipboard back under his arm. "Perfect," I take Nyx's backpack and sling it over my shoulder. "We'll be seeing you." I smile while Azriel pulls me away. "Bye, Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx waves with a bright smile from over Azriel's shoulder.

——

The walk to the Ice Cream parlor was brief, since Nyx's school was located in the Rainbow everything was only a short distance away, still, the entire way there Nyx raved on about his teacher. Much to Azriel's dismay.

"—And Mr. Lockwood gives us a cool sticker every time we get something right!" Nyx exclaims, skipping slightly as he tugs on my hand. "Would you rather have a sticker or ice cream?" Azriel says and I toss the jealous male a knowing glare. "Oh ice cream for sure," Nyx licks his lips excitedly. "That's what I thought." Azriel mumbles and I playfully smack his shoulder with my freehand.

"Can I please get a chocolate cone, Auntie?" Nyx asks, ignoring his snarky uncle. A smile pulls at my lips. "I don't see why not?" I hum and a grin showing all his teeth blessed his expression. "Maybe I'll get one too." I wink at the boy as we reach the shop, Azriel opening the door for the both of us. The worker behind the counter smiles at us in a greeting and I return it.

"What flavor are you gonna get?" I ask the kindergartner. "I can't see," He says, standing on his tiptoes and attempting to peer over the edge of the glass. Without a word, Azriel swoops him up and props the boy on his hip.

"Ooh, that one," Nyx exclaims, pointing to a brightly colored tub. "I remember I had that kind with Uncle Cass before and it was so good," Nyx licked his lips as if he could still taste it. I shake my head with a growing grin and approach the counter, the silver-haired fae smiling softly at the three of us.

I order for all of us, making sure to get a chocolate cone for Nyx, per his request. The woman repeats my order back and I nod. "Your total is nine gold marks," She hums, but before I can shuffle through my coin purse Azriel puts down the money due and I look up at him. I slip my hand into his in gratitude as the cashier scoops the ice cream into the cones.

When she hands Nyx the chocolate cone he nearly runs laps around the shop, but in fear of his cold treat melting he instead licks up the side, the scoop seeming as big as his head. "You three are such a lovely family," The female smiles as she hands me my cone. "Oh, he's not—" I begin. "Thank you." Azriel interrupts before tugging my hand towards the door. "Have a nice day!" I wave to the worker. "You too!" She mirrors my expression. "Bye!" Nyx waves carefully, cautious of his ice cream toppling over. She waves back before the door to the parlor opens and we exit, the bell chiming behind us as Azriel guides me down the sidewalk, Nyx still in his arms.

I wrapped my arms around his free one, suddenly overwhelmed by some type of baby-fever. Watching the feared shadow singer be so innocent with Nyx made me want a child of our own. How I'd kill for a kid that looks just like him, hoping our child has his eyes— or better yet, his smile. I push the thoughts away as a pink tinge comes to my cheeks, I lean against his bicep as we walk side by side, enjoying our ice cream on the hot day.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @ilovewarner45

Azriel Taglist: @coolepowersthings @lovely-giggles @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

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[valeisaslut]

the morning is the muse-mdni (+18)

clic to read pt.1!

⚢ pairing: Shane McCutcheon (The L Word, 2004) x Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

ෆ synopsis: after the heated events of the night before, Shane and y/n try to make it pass as a one night thing, but feelings get in the way. It's your turn to realize that Shane is someone quite difficult to avoid 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭑ word count: 2.12k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♱ content: smut (nsfw), dom! Shane, sub! reader, oral sex (r!receiving), fingering, cum eating, jealousy, cursing, Shane and y/n are smokers, pet names, etc. MDNI!! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

꒱࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ Hii! first of all, thank you all so so so much for all the support in my first fic! I honestly wrote it more for myself than for it to be popular and i didn't expect all those kind beautiful messages and so many people asking me to write a pt.2! So here it is, I really hope you like it as much as i did. Sorry in advance if there are some misspelling or writing mistakes, english isn't my first language and I will be happy to receive constructive criticism! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

The dim and warm morning light seeped through the curtains of Shane's department, reaching your eyes and waking you from your slumber in a slow manner.

As you languidly opened your eyes, you started scanning your surroundings, not immediately comprehending your present location. However, in a matter of seconds, the flashbacks of the previous night hit you like a bus and a slight blush painted your cheeks.

The first thought of your sleepy head was to make sure of Shane's presence in the bed, so you rolled up to the other side, only to discover her absence.

You looked around the room, slightly confused but not really surprised. It was something that you could expect from a one night stand.

"Shane...?" you mumbled softly, still giving it a chance to dismiss your internal thoughts.

"maybe she just went and expects me to leave before she comes back" your inner voice echoed.

You were only in your panties, so you sat up and stretched your arms, letting out a soft sigh. You were ready to get dressed and start your walk of shame as soon as possible, but a sound coming from the kitchen stopped you in your tracks.

You felt footsteps coming towards the room, so you covered yourself with the sheets again. The door creaked open, revealing Shane's long and slim figure. She had two different colored mugs, one on each of her hands and a cigarette dangled from her lips.

She was wearing only a white tank shirt and black panties, her jet black hair all messy and her eyes were slightly black from the remnants of smudged makeup (that she didn't correctly remove after your shared shower).

Without a doubt, she was the hottest girl you had ever hooked up with.

"hey, you already up" Shane said, with an even deeper than usual morning voice, she came closer to you and offered you the cup "I was making myself coffee and I made some for you too, if you want it"

"oh, thanks" you said as you took the coffee and leaned back on the bed, sipping it and letting out a soft sigh of pleasure "I really needed that, thank you again, you really didn't have to"

Shane looked at you while taking a long drag on her cigarette, the morning light perfectly illuminating your face and your locks with a serene aura. Then her gaze went a little lower, discovering your bare body covered only by the almost sheer sheets.

"my pleasure" she responded to your gratitude with an alluring manner, giving you her very renowned Shane smirk.

You looked down at your cup, chuckling when you realized what was written in it.

"Best. lesbian. ever."

"nice mug you have here" you said, turning it around to show her the quote, making her laugh too "i'm gonna need the address of the place where you got this. immediately"

"I have no idea 'cause I actually didn't bought it" she responds to your request "it was a joke from my friend, she gave me that as a birthday gift last year"

"the quote is true tho" you remarked, still chuckling as Shane drew nearer, giving you a cute peck on the lips. "hell yeah it is" she purred, planting another kiss upon you, her passion and eagerness growing with each passing moment.

You reciprocated with the same initiative, as Shane put out her almost finished cigarette on the ashtray that laid on the nightstand. Both of you left your mugs too, quickly forgetting the coffee.

You sat up on your forearms and Shane crawled up over you, placing one of her hands on the mattress while the other one moved to your nape, deepening the kiss.

You placed your hand on Shane's waist, caressing the soft flesh as her kisses went lower, nibbling upon the sensitive skin of your neck and licking the already dark marks from last night.

Her hands traced lower, softly gripping your breasts and she separated from the kiss to attach her mouth to your nipple, sucking on it and squeezing the other.

She slowly moved towards your legs, her body getting closer until she was on her knees in front of you. As she did that, she gave you a look full of lust, her lips kissing and her hands gripping the supple flesh of your inner thighs.

With each second passing, the dampness in your panties grew more, yearning to be pleased. As a reflex, you attempted to close your legs, but her strong grip kept them firmly in place.

"be a good girl and spread your legs" she deeply whispered, and you complied without complaint. Her voice slightly muffled by her lips grazing your thighs, getting closer and closer to your sensitive spot.

You audibly moaned as her tongue touched the drenched fabric of your undergarments, licking a long stripe and sucking your wetness. Her teeth grasped the waistband of your panties, slowly drawing them down your legs with her mouth.

The sight was absolutely alluring, and turned you into a whimpering mess. Her hands squeezed your flesh once more and her mouth met your bare pussy, eliciting a resounding gasp from your lips.

She began to suck loudly on your clit as your head fell back in ecstasy, your eyes darted shut as you firmly grip her hair.

"Fuck! don't stop" you moan and as if that weren't enough, her deft fingers found their way to your sensitive nipple, teasing and twisting it.

“you like that, baby?” she whispered, her deep voice muffled by your pussy. The room was filled with the sultry wet sounds, causing you to writhe beneath her touch.

“oh god Shane” your moans only seem to heighten her desire, making her more eager, almost pussy drunk. She eats you out like she is a woman starved, and you are her last meal.

A broken "fuck" escaped from your lips the moment when her hot tongue started intercalating between fucking you and flattening against your clit, knowing that it was over for you.

Somehow, she delves her fingers into the mess and the overwhelming stimulation quickly drove you to the edge, making you cum all over her mouth with loud and broken whimpers, one of your hands gripping the sheets and the other roughly pulling Shane's hair.

A shiver courses through your spine when she used her tongue to clean up every last drop of your release, her fingers still inside of you, moving slowly to extend your high as much as possible.

After you calm down from your high, Shane hovered over you and pressed sweet kisses on your open, breathless mouth. She removed her fingers and sucked them clean before helping you pull up your panties again.

"i love the way you taste" Shane whispers in your ear, and you swore you could hear her smirk. You were just about to reply, but you both stopped your movements at the loud sound of knocking on the door.

"cominggg" Shane lazily said, putting on the first pair of pants and socks she found laying on the floor. She walked out of the room and the next thing you heard was the door creaking open.

"hey Shane, sorry to wake you up" a womanly voice says "I just dropped by to ask you if you could give me back my bra from yesterday, it's my favorite"

"oh, hey Laura.. uhh yeah, jus gimme me one second and I'll look for it" you hear Shane say as you felt her footsteps coming near the room.

You can't help being embarrassed, it makes you feel kinda ridiculous laying naked in a bed that yesterday was filled for another girl, so you start putting your clothes on and grabbing one of Shane's cigarettes, lighting it and taking a drag.

"It shouldn't bother me so much. it was just a one time thing. with a stranger. It doesn't mean anything, so why do I feel like this? god im so fucking stupid" your mind echoed while you got dressed as fast as you could.

Shane walked into the room, not even looking at you and just focusing on finding that piece. She opened a drawer and took out a pink, lacy, probably D-cup bra and just walked out. Your mind couldn't find a moment where you had felt more uncomfortable than this.

"found it, there you go" you heard her say "thanks babe, call me later" the girl replied.

"sure.... see you around" Shane responded, and you can quickly feel her closing the door and her steps coming closer again. You took a drag of your cigarette and grabbed your purse.

"hey hey, you are going already?" Shane confusedly leaned on the door frame while you were putting your clothes on, her eyes still lingering at your body.

"um, yeah" you responded while your mind struggled to make an excuse and tried to sound the most unbothered it could. "I forgot I have... a deadline today, so yeah.... i'm out, sorry"

"oh, ok" she said, kinda weirded out by your sudden attitude, but still understanding. You took another long drag, trying to figure out your next words.

"hope I see you around, some of these days" you say as you turn around to put out your cigarette in the ashtray. Your words were genuine, but at the same time you didn't know if you wanted to see her again. Your head was a complete mess.

"yeah, me too" she got closer to caress your check and give you a peck on the lips, smiling at you. You swore you saw her eyes slightly glint, but didn't give it too much importance.

You both said your goodbyes with a bittersweet taste on your mouths and as soon as you were on the elevator, you took out your phone and called your best friend Alice.

"Hey Al, wanna go to the Planet for coffee in like, 10 minutes?"

"so yeah, all that happened" you and Alice were sitting at a small table outside, both with coffees in your hands.

"well, that explains the hickeys all over your neck" she said, pointing out the dark fresh marks decorating your neck and collarbones.

"oh my god, are they THAT obvious?!" you responded covering your neck with your hands, completely embarrassed.

"I noticed them as soon as you walked in, you are gonna have to invest on some good concealer or a scarf" you laughed at her remark, but your laughter stopped the moment you saw Shane walking in.

"fuck, that is the girl I hooked up with last night!" you whispered to Alice, pointing at her under the table and trying to hide your face. Al turned to look at Shane's direction, and then turned again to look at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression.

"Shane?! You arrived from New York one fucking week ago and Shane already fucked you?? this is so fucking ridiculous, its like she has a radar for every girl she hasn't fucked yet!"

"shut up, Al! shit, she's coming, act normal" you said, freaking out.

"hey guys, didn't expect to see you here" Shane said, greeting you with a confused look on her face. Then, her eyes fell to your neck, noticing the dark hickeys and smirking.

"um, yeah... I just decided to grab a quick coffee with my friend on the way, Shane, this is Alice- " you nervously said.

"yeah, I know, we are very close" Shane says "unfortunately" Alice replies.

"well, see you both around, wish you luck with your deadline y/n" she says with a kind of sarcastic tone and turned around to go with Marina, Shane's shot of espresso already in her hand.

"what a tiny and crazy little world" you say, trying to process everything that happened in just an hour.

"crazy, yes.. but not tiny" Alice responds with a smirk on her face, already thinking of linking you to Shane and expanding her board.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

clic to read pt.1!

guysss please let me know if you want a part 3 and I will happily write it! I already have a lot of ideas. Hope you enjoyed and I'm very grateful for every repost, like or share you want to give.

(sorry again if there's any spelling or writing mistakes)

[megistusdiary]

idk if this has been done yet, but imagine twitch streamer!arle

let’s say during one of her livestreams, shes playing a game of cod with the other harbingers. arlecchino is on a winning streak, and she doesn’t plan on losing it. until you show up in the middle of the livestream and sit on her lap. she’s surprised at first, but lets it slide since her viewers and the other harbingers finally get to see what you look like.

the longer the livestream goes on, the more desperate you get for her attention. so you start to grind on her lap, until you can feel her erection poking you. arle tells you to sit still and behave, but you continue to grind on her, whispering in her ear how badly you want her to breed you. this causes arle to end the livestream early and she punishes you for distracting her.

ahhh, streamer!arle. i like how canon!arle doesn't understand slang, but in our au, we can pretend 🤭

(suggestive themes utc)

it's been rumored for some time now that arlecchino, a well-known streamer, actually does have a girlfriend.

she finds the comments amusing, joking about how there's no way a cod player actually gets women.

she thinks it's entertaining. particularly because she likes streaming the most right after she's thoroughly fucked you, and you're fast asleep in bed.

tonight was a little different, though. she worked late, and of course, she came home to you first. you ate dinner together, cuddled, but ultimately, she reminded you she still had to hop on for at least a little bit before bed.

mid-way through the stream, she heard a soft knock at her door, knowing it was you. she bit the inside of her cheek, ignoring childe's screams through the mic, telling you to come in.

her chat went insane as they heard your voice, asking her how long she would be. arlecchino glanced at the screen, one side of her headset pushed to the side to hear you better. "it's still gonna be a while. why don't you just come here and sit with me?" she patted her lap, seeing the chat practically foaming at the mouth when you appeared on screen.

"you really DO have a girlfriend? fuck, i owe so many people money." childe blurted, loud enough for you to hear and you sit up.

"oh, i'm sorry-" but arlecchino is quick to soothe you.

"it was about time they stop teasing me, anyways. besides, you're my top priority always." she kisses your cheek, ignoring the 'eww's from childe and scramouche.

you smile up at her, cuddling into her chest and waiting as her stream continued. though, you began to get impatient, wanting her to come with you to bed now. you missed her all day!

with a mischievous little look, you began to wiggle around on her lap, shifting while she was focused on the screen. "baby, don't move too much." she mumbles, not realizing it was on purpose.

you keep grinding on her lap until she suddenly sets the controller down, muting her mic briefly. you can feel her hardening beneath your thighs, and she grunts, grabbing your waist. "what are you doing?"

"nothing." you muse and she sighs, stilling your hips.

"behave. there's thousands of people watching right now." she mumbles into your ear so nobody can read her lips.

you lean up. "i don't care. i want you to breed me, please? missed you. come on, i can feel you missed me too-" you squeak when she abruptly shuts off her stream, picking you up out of the room with heavy footsteps.

you realize you've won, but the way she grips your body like you're her toy makes you wonder at what cost?

[yallthemwitches]

Some thoughts on Lily Evans (Headcanons and other musings)

Headcanon things

---I think she really struggled internally about "not belonging" in both the muggle and wizard community. I couldn't imagine finding out I was part of some special group that made my family members ostracize me, THEN joining said new community to find that I am actually discriminated against and considered lesser. I don't think she was on the nerd level of say Hermione, but I think she really wanted to prove herself.

--I don't think she wore a bra. I use this in my fics a lot not just because it could be taken sexy, but because it would've been trendy at the time in the 70s. I think Lily would have kept up with the politics of the muggles and the wizarding world, and I would imagine she would be keen to follow the feminist movement.

--I'm really not of fan of the swarmy, bookish version of Lily that purveyed often in fics (I see more diversity now but back 10 years ago Lily was like some studious angel all the time.) We know she was smart and teachers loved her, but we also see a lot of anger and cheekiness from her too. I think James wouldn’t have been half as attracted to her if she was just a know it all. I imagine she was really sarcastic and quippy.

--I think Lily thought about fancying Remus in earlier years---to the point that in 4th year she turned on him quickly one day during prefects rounds and kissed him, immediately realized she felt nothing, and then they both agreed to stay friends and never speak of it (James would have died if he knew). After then, Lily had the habit of giving him a kiss on the cheek as greeting/goodbye (think of it as the french bisous, not like a real cheek kiss) and Sirius would always joke about "Where his kiss was"---which prompted Lily to draw real close to him ( making James feel jealous and uncomfortable) before yelling at him to fuck off.

--When Sirius and Lily became friends, they really became friends. They both confided in each other about being the family outsiders, they spent lots of study time listening to music, and she was always able to keep up with his sarcastic and self deprecating style of humor. Whenever Sirius would conjure rock music to play in the corridors, Lily always was the last of the prefects to put a stop to it. She would often spend time in the boys dorms even if James wasn't there to shoot the shit with Sirius and she often was his insider into all the cool muggle things he missed out on.

---Petunia peddled the idea that Lily was a "Hippie type" to Vernon and her friends upon being questioned and Lily really leaned into this gladly. She was very amused by the muggle occult craze in the 60s-70s and found a lot of enjoyment visiting muggle "esoteric shops" and getting books from them. This trait would later be adopted by the marauders who would take some of her muggle “occult magic” books and try to reproduce the (ridiculously fake) spells (often leading in explosions or very bad consequences seeing as the muggle “spells” were all a hoax and couldn’t stand up to real magical attempts). When she was home from the summer it was not uncommon for her to be reading a book by Aleister Crowley on the front stoop.

---Lily hated flying despite James' many tries to get her to enjoy it (he mostly liked that she was scared and held onto him more). Contrary to this, she loved Sirius motorbike. It felt more natural to her despite still being a flying object ( and despite both James and Sirius flying it in the most haphazard way possible.)

--One thing that drew Lily to James was his interest and love for muggle pop culture. I imagine Lily tried often to get Snape to listen to Joni Mitchell or have a laugh at how muggles depicted wizards/witches in film, but Snape didn't see the worth in doing those things---wanting to focus on the wizarding world. James on the other hand ate all of it up--he would jump at the chance to watch Carrie or The Wicker Man. Even before dating James, I think Snape's disdain for all things muggle was off putting to Lily, who saw just as much to learn from muggles as she did from the wizarding world.

Reference things

---I base a lot of my fic Petunia/Lily relationships off of the British show Fleabag. I HIGHLY recommend it and I think its a great example of two sisters who are completely at odds with each other. I think Lily and Petunia's relationship would be much more complicated obviously due to their reasoning for falling out, but I think in general its a great depiction of two sisters who don't get along. I admittedly have cradled their dialogue patterns for scenes. ( Its on Amazon prime really really really go watch it its amazing)

---One of my big references for Lily ( and James for that matter) is Paul Thomas Anderson's Licorice Pizza. I think the love story of the two main characters who are at odds against the world really works and its the typical Jily "one is madly in love with the other and does schemes to win her over while she's sarcastic and wary and grows to love him despite it all." Its also the 70s which helps a lot ( for me). I think also Alana Haim's character is a perfect lily as she's someone who is a bit lost despite having everything going for her on paper. I highly reccomend it if you haven't seen it.

Trailer link here:

[kiyomitakada]

"This isn't what I meant by 'bonding activities,'" Misa says.

L has his entire arm, up to the elbow, stuffed into the Jenga tower box. Light silently prays for his hand to get stuck. "Did you not say you wanted company, Amane-san?"

"Yeah, but I didn't mean with you," Misa retorts. "I said I was lonely without Light around!"

"Yes, and Light-kun is attached to me," L explains patiently. He successfully withdraws from the box; the missing Jenga piece dangles between his thumb and index finger. Damn it. "Many couples play tabletop games together."

"I don't want to be in a couple with this creep," Misa says. "You don't either, right, Light?"

Light sighs. "Misa, you're a suspect in a murder investigation. It doesn't really matter if you want to or not."

"What?! What about consent?"

Since when have you cared about consent? Light does not say aloud. Instead he says, "Whatever," because he's a nice person. "Let's just get this over with."

"Beh," Misa mumbles, but she settles down on the sofa to peer at the Jenga tower pieces L has dumped onto the table. Light and L sit opposite her; L, with uncharacteristic grace, places the last wood block on top of the pile.

"You know," Light remarks, "I'm pretty sure the pieces are already arranged as a tower when you first buy them. You didn't have to scatter them all out."

"Oops," L says without a hint of remorse.

No one moves. Eventually Light, with another sigh, leans over and starts stacking the tower up himself.

-

Light has played Jenga before, obviously. With friends during recess when it was raining outside, yeah, but more often with Sayu and Mom over the holidays. Mom is brilliant at it; Sayu's alright, but takes too many risks. Light's no strategic master, but he's also never lost, as far as he can remember — he just plays it safe and goes for the loose blocks in the middle.

Suffice it to say that this round is going to kill him.

"This should not be standing," he says in a desperate plea to the rules of physics.

Misa grins. She's only been taking blocks from the left side of the tower (and putting them on the right side, to be fair, but that should not nearly be enough to balance this structure). Even one piece in the base level is gone. "But it is!"

"Ryuzaki," Light says, gesturing at their inadvertent creation of the Leaning Tower of Pisa's inferior cousin, "how is — how?"

"Amane-san is quite a good opponent," L muses, neatly dodging his question. He leans forward with a smile, pressing his thumb into his lip. "I am honored to be playing against her."

Misa brightens. "Hey, Ryuzaki, you're not so bad!"

"I'm here too," Light mutters.

"Hmm." L tilts his head, thumb digging deeper. Light watches the way the strands of his hair fall out of and into place. "Let's see…"

Five seconds pass. Then ten.

Light, all of a sudden, realizes he's been staring at the way L's hair curls just slightly when it brushes against the nape of his neck for far too long. He drops his gaze immediately; it lands on the chain between them instead.

The chain. The chain connected to L's hand. He could end this hell with just one tug —

No, too suspicious. If he cheats at Jenga, L will surely jail him (again) for mass murder.

"Can you hurry up?" Misa crosses her arms, leaning forward. "It's only supposed to take a minute, you know."

"Not all of us have your reality-manipulating powers, Amane-san," L murmurs. His thumb has not left his lip.

"Or maybe I'm just better than you."

L's gaze flickers upward. "Did you often play Jenga in the past?"

"Not really." Misa shrugs. "My friends weren't all that into it."

"Then I find that rather unlikely." L glances back down to the pieces he's considering; Light lets himself exhale.

"No, it just means I'm a natural talent!"

Instead of responding, L reaches and plucks a piece away. It happens so fast Light has no time to blink, exactly the same way L eats sweets.

The tower wobbles and —

No. Still standing.

"Jeez," Light mutters.

"Unhappy I'm winning, Light-kun?" L puts his piece down on the top level. He puts it down vertically. (He's already placed five other pieces this way, packed together in a geometry that is apparently conducive to structural support. Light wishes he could strangle him.)

"Who says you're winning?" Light and Misa say simultaneously.

They blink at each other. Then Misa beams, putting her hand up for a high-five. Light meets it hesitantly.

"I do," L says, unconcerned. He tugs the chain. "It's your turn, Light-kun."

"I know that." Light leans forward, narrowing his eyes. Despite everything, this shouldn't be difficult. All he has to do is find a loose block, and then this tortuous game will continue on as usual.

He briefly considers collapsing the tower on purpose.

No. Light Yagami does not lose. He taps at one of the pieces; nope, load-bearing. Another one. Nope. Another —

Suddenly he's falling — wind whistles in his ears — and then he hits something bony and angular with a thump.

Light stares. He'll deny this later but he stares and stares and stares, until he finally registers that he is lying in the lap of quite possibly the second worst man alive and jolts back upright, pushing him away. "What the fuck, Ryuzaki!"

L's laugh is low and slow and amused. "I only moved my hand a little," he says. "I didn't know Light-kun could tip over so easily."

"You are cheating," Light accuses. "You wanted me to lose!"

"The tower is perfectly intact," L says. "No evidence, no crime."

Light tears his glare away from L to check. Yes, the accursed tower is still standing. Damn it all.

"That's the whole problem, isn't it," L continues. "No evidence…"

Misa slams her hands down on the table, making the tower judder. Light startles; he'd almost forgotten she was there. "You locked us up for two months and didn't even have evidence?!"

"There is plenty of evidence in your case, Amane-san." L turns to look at her. The loss of his gaze feels a bit like a punch, but a mild one that Light is not affected by whatsoever. "And besides, I was referring to Jenga."

"Well, what about my boyfriend? He never—"

"Just drop it, Misa," Light says. "He's not changing his mind."

For a split second, Misa glares at him. Light almost flinches — and then it's gone again, replaced with a pout. "But he's insufferable!"

"You'll only have to suffer me until we catch Kira," L says dryly. "So I suppose we'd best do that as soon as possible."

(Aizawa, muttering from the control room: "Oh, really.")

"Yeah, well, we will," Misa says. "And I bet Light's going to beat you to it, 'cause he's so much smarter than you. Right, Light?"

"It's still my turn," Light says. "If you pull me again, I'll break your nose."

"Hmm. Ten percent."

Light steadies both feet on the ground, clenches his chained hand into a fist, and reaches for the tower again.

He taps. And keeps tapping. With growing horror, he realizes that there are no loose pieces. Every level is made of just the middle block and the right block now, and none of them are pullable. They’re just not enough on their own.

…Wait.

Light takes a long inhale and holds it, just in case a breath would disturb the structure. He squeezes his eyes shut, then open. He reaches for the level 75% of the way up.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Light uses his thumb and index finger to maneuver the middle piece into a diagonal —

There! The right piece slips out easier than butter.

Light does not indulge his first instinct, which is to yell FUCK YES!!!!!. Instead he leans back, exhales, inhales, and then puts the piece back on the top layer.

The tower does not fall.

"Your turn, Misa," Light says, attempting to school his smile from "deranged" to "enthusiastic."

Misa claps in delight. "That was amazing!"

"Interesting," L muses. "Interesting."

"What?"

"I was under the impression that moving a piece other than the one played was a rules violation," L says.

"Wh—" Light nobly does not punch him. He weighs the possibility of claiming he had never done that, but the middle block is indeed at a distinctly unnatural slant now. "That's not true. You made that up."

L leans over the side of the sofa and plucks the manual out, flipping through it carefully. "'Any blocks moved but not played should be replaced'—"

"—'unless doing so would make the tower fall,'" Light reads over his shoulder. "And it would!" The middle piece is clearly the only one holding up the entire layer. "Take that, Ryuzaki!"

L frowns. "You, Light Yagami, are a sore loser."

"I think you're the sore loser here, to be honest," Light says, faintly giddy. He could kiss someone right now.

"Your turn!" Misa says triumphantly.

They both turn to look at her. Misa has removed the other side of the base layer. The tower is now standing entirely on one block, wavering uncertainly in the faint air-con breeze.

"What the fuck," Light manages.

Misa grins. "Good luck, Ryuzaki!"

[ @deathnotetober day 21: games ]

[sethsclearwater]

Hi again!! Loved the Paul head-canon it was EXACTLY how I imagined ittt.

I have a head canon for Seth! If reader was in a pouty/stubborn mood he would definitely be doing anything and everything to make her laugh or even just a tiny smile. 100%!

Like say they’re at a campfire and she’s in a pouty mood and everyone around her obviously notices, he’d be bringing marshmallows to toast and everything (since he’s such a sweetheart) and eventually she’d crack. I meannn who could resist Seth??

-⭐️

this man has my whole heart😭

...

by now the entire pack was well aware that you were not to be fucked with. on the way to the pack's near weekly bonfire at first beach, you and kim had managed to be the butt end of one of jared's never-ending pranks which led to you both getting absolutely soaked by emily's garden hose.

while kim went off on jared for fucking up her hair, seth had quickly found you and pulled you aside so he could swap clothes with you. you weren't entirely sure what made him make that decision but now he was wearing your sweatshorts that were definitely too short for him while you wore his t-shirt and sweatpants that were definitely too big for you.

in your grumpiness, you had plopped down in the sand next to emily and sam who were lost in their own world with each other. you leaned back against one of the many pieces of driftwood while you pouted over your undergarments and hair still being soaked. seth couldn't have minded though, not wasting anytime before he was striding over to you, a golden smile on his face and what looked like all the ingredients to make s'mores in his hands.

you were pretty close to breaking but held up a strong front, arms crossed over your chest with a pout on your face as he came and sat down on the log behind you so he could sit with you between his legs.

he didn't say anything, just sliding one hand over your shoulder to gently massage at the muscle there while he figured out how to get a marshmallow impaled on a stick with his other hand. seth knew how to read you by now and was well aware that asking you what was wrong would only add fuel to the fire so he remained quiet as he successfully impaled the marshmallow and handed the stick to you.

"can you hold this for a sec?" he asked, giving your shoulder another gentle squeeze when you hummed and nodded, still not too interested in talking.

while you held the marshmallow over the fire, seth snapped the graham cracker and chocolate in half with his free hand, the other one still dutifully massaging your shoulder. after a few moments, you allowed your shoulders to drop, letting out a soft sigh as you let yourself lean back into him, resting your head against his thigh.

seth slid his hand up to your hair, gently scratching your scalp and stroking his fingers through your hair while you two silently waited for the marshmallow to toast.

once you both decided it was brown enough, seth slid his free hand over yours, taking the stick from you so he could assemble your s'more for you. you weren't entirely sure how he managed to do it all with one hand but you weren't too concerned, instead basking in the warmth of the fire while seth's fingers continued to work wonders on your scalp.

"for my pretty girl," seth mused after a moment, beaming as he handed you his perfected s'more. you couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

you took the s'more from him, sitting up so you could peek over your shoulder and look up at him. he was sporting a soft smile despite the fact that you knew he definitely had to be uncomfortable with the way your soaked shorts were clinging to him, "thank you," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the wet fabric which had seth letting out a breathy laugh.

"anything to make my pretty girl feel better," he mused, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair, "now can we get outta here? i'm pretty sure i ripped these when i sat down," he said, both of you laughing when you realized how uncomfortable he definitely was.

"yes please," you laughed, allowing him to take your free hand and help you up while you held the s'more with the other, more than happy to snack on it on the short drive back to your apartment.

[sangreprince]

I wanna keep this brief (graphic design is my passion level effort but also it kinda works in a really funny way) !!! I wanna let you all know I appreciate the love you've given Zagreus and I'm so so happy to be here. You're all great and wonderful and I could say so many good things to say about each and every one of my mutuals. So fuck it, that's what I'mma do. Because you all truly deserve it. I'm super happy with Zagreus and being able to share my portrayal and have it be well received means so much !!! It's easy to say 'thank you all so much' but I want to acknowledge that I truly do appreciate and care about each and every one of my mutuals, even if my time / availability makes it tough at times. PART 1/4

@withinchains / @hercarnality : Elle you already know how much ily so I'm gonna keep this short. You're such an amazing friend and writer and you already have the screenshot about me gushing pinned so eat my shorts and play arams with me. Your Morgana is to die for and you write every character to a fucking T because of how you just interpret all their personalities and put them into words SO effortlessly.

@lasraichean : NEMO U SMELL LIKE BEEF and I think you're fantastic. You pour so much effort into all your OCs and that passion does you so much credit. You absolutely shower Annie with love in such a way that I shower everyone else with unrequested amounts of fromsoft lore so MWAH.

@blackrosesmatron : Lucy your LB is fantastic and you're so easy to talk to and communicate with. Genuinely every time we sit down and plot I find myself getting so enthralled in her antics and character. You do her so much justice

@avernusfuries : HAN You single handedly made me like Karlach and that isn't even a joke. Before we met and started writing I always thought her story was one of the weaker ones and you somehow managed to turn her into one of the more realized characters in the game. HATS OFF TO YOU and every day I beg for more of this big doofus.

@feuerwizard : Crys I know I need to get back to you for plotting things, I've just been so busy but I want to say: You and some of the other CR writers you write with are so talented and I adore reading your posts. Were it not for you guys I still probably wouldn't have any interest in CR and I'm so so excited to get started with more stuff and actually get threads going!

@soulcluster : Lilah I think all your portrayals are excellent. Your MM deserves all the attention it gets and I honestly couldn't pick a favorite muse if gave me truth serum. Plotting with you is a blast and I'm so thankful for all the ideas we pass between eachother!

@pitgritted : Your Sett, Taric, and Mutli are all so well done Jojo. I can tell you really care about all the people you write and it shines so brightly, right down the amount of detail you place into every reply and how you format things. Passion shows in the end and this is no exception!!

@palespawn : This sassy motherfucker. We've only just started writing and I still need to get to replies but you've showed interest since almost day one and I cant say how much I appreciate that. Courtney you do such a beautiful job with the twink, I almost dont wanna stab him. Almost~

@infinitysagas : I first of all wanna say thank you for writing such underappreciated characters. To see Damon get love brings me so much joy, I always take a second to read his posts when I see them come up. I know we haven't done a ton but please know that I see your writing and totally wanna do stuff, I'm just very busy skdjhf.

@deathdxnces : Irelia was a character I never cared about too much, but how you humanize her so much and have expanded on her character beyond what Riot's given us does SO much for me. I actually adore how you portray her, Mel, and I wish to get writing at some point soon!! I know you liked a starter a bit ago and I do plan to get to that, but please do not hesitate to hit me up for plotting in the meantime. It really does help and I promise I don't bite!!

@tealbeats : I know you're not super active on Ez (and I still owe you a lot of stuff actually) but I wanna say I love the amount of his personality you're able to paint into every interaction. You have such a way of making him the perfect amount of insufferable (in the best way) while still twisting it in SUCH an endearing light. I love that annoying little bug and I'm so glad you do too, because it really shows.

@agonizedembrace : Han it's been really nice to reach out and get into contact again. You're genuinely a really funny, interesting, and thoughtful person who cares about Evelynn in such a way that brings out every aspect of her character. The agony, the sex appeal, the sass, the confidence, you just nail all of it and I'm really hoping we can get stuff going soon!

@bendwill : Elder scrolls blogs are few and far between, but Miraak is absolutely one of those characters that deserves to be more written out. We haven't gotten to do a ton but please don't hesitate to hit me up and scream ideas at me, the idea of Tamrielic Zagreus is very fascinating to me. (And also I need somebody to ramble about my Oblivion D&D Campaign ideas with skdfjh)

@ofweave : First of all, trans gale is based as fuck and you have a vision. Second of all, I know you're on hiatus but once you come back I'd be so happy to get the ball rolling with this stinky wizard man!!

@kismetwilled : I'm not gonna lie, seeing how you pour effort into your headcanons and thoughtful replies kind of inspired me to do similar with my own. I also want to say that I'd love to plot more and yell ideas all day with you, your style is gorgeous and I find myself appreciating characters on your blog I've never even heard of or are barely familiar with. Seriously Dani, it's top tier and I'm so happy to be mutuals.

@enrogued : We haven't gotten anything started with but I'm so hyped. Rogue as a character has such fascinating potential with her powers, and that's not to mention her attitude towards others in general. Once stuff gets started I'm probably never gonna shut up in your DMs but like that's a constant sdfjkh STILL!!

@lunarrepel : Shadowheart my beloved. The aesthetics, writing, dialog, everything you do with her is SO on point and I can't get over it. I was already biased and liked her after Larian adjusted her a bit during the beta phase of BG3 but still. Man you just nail her and I'm so excited to develop these two out. They give wine aunt energy and THAT alone gives me so much life.

@dreadgloom / @cinderschild : I wont lie to you I was GIDDY when I found out you wrote a WoTR character. I honestly expected that fandom to have more of a presence on tumblr but I'll take what small fanclub we can get right?? And also can I comment on the takes you have from Salvatore are absolutely genius and play really well into WoTC's drow?? Genuinely fantastic worldbuilding and it's always a pleasure to see you crop up on the dash.

@nightsbloom : Your headcanons and replies have been gorgeus and I just want to say despite me being really busy and not getting around to approaching yet, I'm so excited??? Also a while back you reblogged a Qimir gifset and it's still living rent free in my head so thank you for the food chef--- Please though, if you have any thoughts or even just dynamic ideas - toss them at me at mach 5 and I will run with them because I'm HYPE.

@spiderwarden : I think you officially win the title of Minthara's #1 fan. Her performance (as I've mentioned) is absolutely captivating, as is your writing. I'm very excited to see where her interactions with Zagreus go and writing with you (or even just seeing your random hc posts and comments) is such a blast. I will always sit down and listen to you ramble about her, I think she's so fascinating and that's in no small part to how you manage to inject so much life and love into her despite all the cut content.

[milliesfishes]

Hii! Do u think u could write something about maybe how in the second episode in season 1 billy and reader r together and she accidentally gets herself in the middle of him and antrims feuds and billy becomes very protective?

౨ৎ꣑ৎprotective billy antrim౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Billy Antrim came to you like a rainstorm soaking a flower field.

His family had moved into town less than a year ago, a lovely mother, adorable little brother, a tired looking man and Billy. Your attention was piqued immediately by them. Plenty of new families moved to Silver City all the time, but there was something about this one...well, something about their oldest son...that kept your eye on them.

You merely watched from afar at first, eyeing them from the marketplace or the general store. It wasn't that you set out to see them, but they happened to be in town often at the same times you were.

But it wasn't until you met Mrs. Antrim that you started to get closer to them.

You were looking at a bolt of fabric, running your fingers along the material and debating making a new dress out of it when she appeared beside you. She was looking at another fabric, pinching it between her fingers. Noticing you, she smiled. "That's a lovely color." A lilted Irish accent made her words all the more charming to you. "It'll look fetching with your hair."

"Thank you," you smiled, looking over at the blue color she was examining. "Is that for you?"

"My son, Billy," she explained, holding up a bit of it and considering. "He needs a new shirt. He's had the old one for a long while."

"I see," you nodded, measuring out a stretch and handing the shopkeeper the money for it. "Do you live in town?"

"Yes," she smiled sweetly. "Just moved here a few weeks ago."

"Do you like it so far?" you questioned, folding up your cut.

"It's a far sight from some of the towns we've lived in," she laughed. "In the best way."

"I'm glad to hear it," you said, watching as she paid for her own fabric. "It'll be wonderful to have you here."

"Kathleen," she introduced herself, holding out her hand. You shook it nicely, telling her your name. She eyed you with a smile. "You're a sweetheart. I'll be happy to come across you again."

Indeed, every time you did after that she was. Kathleen always had a kind word for you, and you looked forward to seeing her. She was the first of the Antrims you met.

The second was Joe, whom you quickly grew fond of. He was with his mother one day in the market, and after that you'd slip him a sweet in passing every time you saw him. He was a sweet little boy who clearly loved his mother dearly.

Mr. Antrim was next, although you didn't exactly meet him. He came often to the bar you worked at, and you served him whiskey after whiskey almost every time you had a shift.

And then there was Billy. You'd heard Kathleen speak of him several times, but never come across him.

Until one day when you were out walking on a cloudy day as you often did, in a meadow close to town. Musing to yourself as you wandered, you were surprised by a raindrop hitting your nose. Looking up, you noted the dark grey color of the sky. Hopefully it wouldn't be too bad during the walk back.

But quickly your hopes were put to death when it began to pour, the rain soaking your skin and dress. You laughed, spinning once and holding your hands up to the sky.

A voice startled you out of your bliss, and you spun to see a man standing behind you with a concerned expression on his face. "You alright miss?"

Nodding in a bit of a daze from the shock, you realized who it was. The only member of the Antrim family you hadn't met.

You couldn't help but study him up close. So many times he'd been observed from far away, and your curiosity had gotten ahold of you this time. Billy was tall, on the leaner side but with broad shoulders. There was a gun belt slung around his hips, and a hat on his head, with dark brown curls peeking out. His shirt, you noticed with a modicum of satisfaction, matched the fabric Kathleen had been looking at awhile back.

"I'm okay," you assured him, pushing some of your wet hair out of your face. "I was just taking a walk and now..." you looked up at the sky then back at him. "I don't mind the rain."

This brought a little smile to his face, but he still moved closer to you. Now you could see the color of his eyes. Pure, deep blue, like the sky on a cloudless day. He was less than a foot away from you. "Still, it's gonna be a rough storm, looks like. Would ya-?"

Thunder rumbled nearby, and you jumped, automatically moving toward Billy. His hand came to your back in a protective way that nearly made you swoon.

"Ain't safe to walk back now," Billy commented, looking down at you. "Here, we can go into the clearing 'n wait out the worst of it."

"Okay," you nodded, and he took your hand, leading you through the meadow and into the trees, hiding where it was dry. The both of you were soaking wet.

"I know a little spot nearby," Billy explained, still guiding you through the clearing. "Lightning hits trees, don't want ya to get struck."

"That wouldn't be great," you agreed, and he gave you a nod.

"It's just-ah!" Billy led you to a slot in the nearby mountain akin to a gaping mouth. "Here. We'll be safe in here."

"You've been here before?" you asked, shivering a bit as you stepped in. It was dark and cold and you folded your arms around yourself to try and maintain a little body heat.

"Come here sometimes," he explained, nodding at a little circle of stones near you. "I'll start a fire. Could be awhile." You noticed a stack of cut wood to the side. It was clear he was a frequent visitor.

"Sit," he nodded, stacking wood in the circle and pulling out matches. "Can't have ya freezin' to death."

You did so hesitantly, putting out your hands when the flames started to catch on the wood. Looking up at him, you tilted your head. "Do you often rescue strange girls from thunderstorms?"

A smile quirked his lips. "I know who you are. My momma's rather fond of ya. M' brother too."

That made you smile, and you looked down. "I see."

He was sitting with one leg propped up, an elbow resting on his knee. "My momma reckons you're a sweetheart."

"That's nice of her," you blushed, looking down. "She's lovely as well."

"She is," he agreed, studying you. There was a moment of silence as the fire crackled, and with the way he was looking at you, you shivered in a way that didn't have anything to do with the cold.

He held out his arm. "C'mere."

"Hm?" you furrowed your brow in confusion.

"You're still soakin' wet," he said, his arm still extended. "I've got plenty've heat to go around."

"You're wet too," you pointed out and Billy laughed.

"Yeah but I'm bigger than you. C'mere," he flexed his fingers. "Lemme warm you up."

Carefully you moved over, into the safe looking space of his arm. He pulled you against him, settling his hand on your midsection as he held you close. "This alright?" You nodded, letting yourself lean into him. His clothes were still damp, but he was warm. You liked his hand there, big and warm with fingers sprawled across you.

"I've seen you around town before," you said quietly, your cheek smushed against his shoulder.

"Have ya?" he sounded amused, his fingers twitching on your side. "'nd ya never said anything?"

"No," you said simply, and he chuckled.

"Think I woulda noticed such a pretty girl," he commented, and you saw him set his hat by the fire to dry off.

That made you blush more, and you couldn't help your smile. "I keep to myself."

"Ah," he nodded in an understanding way. Billy rubbed your side in a respectful way, trying to warm you up more. "Has your family lived here long?"

"Not too much longer than yours," you said, staring into the fire and watching it dance.

"What's the story?" he questioned, looking down at you. "If ya don't mind me asking?"

"My father married someone new," you explained, looking up at him with a soft smile. There was something about him that made you want to tell him everything in your mind. "He wanted a fresh start."

He was looking at you in a way you couldn't place, but it felt warm. Cautiously, he lifted a bent thumb to brush a strand of wet hair from your cheek. "D'ya like it here?"

"More and more," you said, looking up at him. Something changed in his eyes and you looked up at him with doe ones. "Why did your family move here?"

Billy chuckled lightly, brushing your cheek with his thumb. "Y'know, it was pretty much the same reason as you. 'cept it was my mother who got married a lotta years back."

You nodded in understanding, looking up at him. "It must've been hard."

"Was," he nodded. "I'm gettin' used to it though. The town, not my mother's husband."

"Don't like him much?" It slipped out before you could filter it. "Oh- I'm sorry-"

"It's okay," he assured you, giving you a fond look. "It's okay. No, I don't. He's...well, he's done things no man should be proud of."

You nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry. It can't be easy living with him." Your hand moved to his on your stomach, interlacing the fingers and squeezing. It felt so natural that you barely remembered you'd only met him today.

Billy smiled softly. "Yeah. But it's okay." He squeezed back. "He ain't my whole life."

The storm turned out to be far more perilous and long than the two of you had originally thought, and when he suggested you spend the night in the cavern, you agreed straightaway. You were happy with your choice when he laid down by the fire and snuggled up to you from behind to keep you warm.

After the night in the cave, you found yourself drawn to him. He would come up to you in town and chat, leaning against a market stall or the railing of the porch to meet your eyes. You enjoyed spending time with him and found yourself missing him when he wasn't near you.

When he kissed you for the first time it was raining again, but this time you were in town, ducking under a roof in an alleyway. You were both laughing, and you'd accidentally fallen into him, holding onto his arms to steady yourself. He held onto you tight, looking into your eyes and the next thing you knew his lips were on yours, cool from the rainwater. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to reach him.

From that point on, the two of you were inseparable. You fell hard and fast for him, jumping into his arms like he was a lake on a hot day. He adored you, was with you at every possible moment.

It was such a whirlwind, and you loved every second. You quickly learned what it meant to be Billy's girl, and it was a smooth river of flowing love and attention and time. He took you for walks in the clearing where you'd met and let you sit in his lap while you braided daisies together. He'd sneak you onto the rooftop of his house and show you his favorite stars, telling you all their names. Especially concerned with your safety, he escorted you everywhere, keeping an arm around you so everyone knew whose you were.

Billy would come wait for you at the bar in the tail ends of your shifts, drinking a whiskey and watching for wandering eyes. His stepfather was still a frequent visitor, and Billy didn't like you around him at all.

It was true that Antrim's eyes had a tendency to linger, as did his hands, but he seemed to keep to himself when Billy was around.

You didn't know much of what had happened between them, only that Antrim had done some horrible things in the city from which they'd come. You knew it was a sensitive topic, so you didn't ask many questions.

One night, when you were finishing cleaning up at the bar, you noticed Antrim still at the table he'd occupied all evening. Everyone else had cleared out, but he nursed a glass of whiskey, staring at the wood of the table.

You approached him, drying off another glass as you did. "We're just about closed, Mr. Antrim. Can I pour you one more?"

He looked up at you, eyes catching on parts of you that you'd rather they didn't. "That's alright darlin'. I'd best be headin' out." There was a look in his eyes that you didn't like, and you took one step back.

"Okay, I'll-"

Suddenly he stood up, grabbing your arm. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as you tried to wriggle away. He chuckled lowly. "You're real pretty, y'know that?"

"Mr. Antrim-" you tried, but he held firmer, and the glass slipped from your hand and shattered at your feet.

"Oh ya look even sweeter up close," he whispered, and your breathing quickened, your eyes wide with fear. One of his hands came to your waist, trailing upward to your chest. "Bet if I could touch-"

"Antrim."

Both of you looked up and saw Billy at the door, arms folded. Antrim didn't let go of you. "Kid."

Coming closer, Billy gave him a warning look. "Let go of 'er."

"Aw you're not gonna kick my ass over this little thing," Antrim scoffed. Billy got close to him, grabbing hold of his arm that was holding yours.

"I said let go." His words were glaringly threatening. When Antrim still didn't loosen his grip, Billy shoved his arm off you, sending the drunk man stumbling a few paces backward.

Billy's boots crunched over the broken glass on the floor as he brought you close to him, putting his hand on the back of your head and bringing your face to his shoulder. "Out."

You heard the sound of footsteps scurrying out, and Billy heaved a sigh of relief. He rubbed your back, his big hand on your head making you feel safe. "M' baby," he murmured, hugging you tight to him. "You okay? He didn't hurt ya?"

Shaking your head, you drew back to look at him. He rested his palms on your cheeks and you held his wrists. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry this happened to you. He's rotten, ain't ever leavin' ya alone here 'gain."

"Billy," you were a little shaky from the experience and he recognized that, drawing you back into his arms and kissing your head, whispering sweet things into your hair.

He led you to his bed for the first time that night, not for anything sexual, but for protection, assuring you Antrim wouldn't come home. And even if he did, he'd have Billy to deal with. You snuck past Joe, reaching into your pocket for a piece of candy to leave on his pillow by his head.

Billy smiled at the gesture and reached out his hands for you, holding you like a teddy bear between his arms. You settled your head on his chest since he only had one pillow, and besides, you liked better here anyways.

It became a bit of a habit after that- coming to his bed after work for that feeling of safety that you had only ever found in his arms. You loved him for wanting you to feel that way. Kathleen never said a word about it when she saw you leave in the morning, only smiling at you in her sweet way.

Rarely did you come across Antrim in their home, and when you did you were always under Billy's arm, feeling like he was a shield. The nights you spent with him were always peaceful, and you treasured them dearly.

One night, after collapsing into him after a longer shift, you woke up in the still, eerie hours of the morning and Billy wasn't there. Looking up, you realized it was raining, the steady sound making you smile.

You waited a few minutes, but Billy didn't come back. Standing up and stretching, you smoothed your dress and made your way out to see if he was in the kitchen. No Billy.

Once you were there though, you could hear a distinct, violent sound coming from outside, easier to hear over the rain now that you were closer to it. Hesitantly curious, you opened the door, and immediately, you were frozen.

Billy was throwing a punch at Antrim, sending the man tumbling to the muddy ground. He shouted something and Billy did too, their words impossible to make out through the rain.

But before you could go back inside, Billy turned around and saw you, his face falling. He just stood there, in the pouring rain for a moment, staring at you and gaging your reaction.

Finally you willed yourself to move, and you came forward to him, not caring that your clothes were getting soaked. Reminded of the first time you met, you let the memory make this scene a little softer.

You reached for his knuckles and saw how bloody they were, the rainwater washing some of it off. Without saying a word, you led him by the hand back inside, and he followed.

Grabbing a rag from the sink, you pressed it to his hands, one at a time. The blood stained your hands, but you didn't care, your eyes never leaving him. He seemed ashamed, and he avoided your gaze the entire time you were cleaning him up.

Putting the rag down, you took both his hands in yours, squeezing them. "Billy," you started softly. "What happened?"

He exhaled softly, still not looking at you. "'S not for you to know, baby."

"Billy," you repeated, leaning in closer. Your words were unmoving, intentional in their purpose.

Squeezing your hands back, he closed his eyes as he spoke. "He was tryna come back in. Said some things I won't repeat."

"About what?" you pressed.

Billy met your eyes. "'bout you, sweetheart. He hit me where he knew it'd get me."

You inhaled sharply, searching his eyes. "You..."

"Hey," Billy squeezed your hands again, sensing your distress. "I get into it with Antrim all the time. Ain't no big deal."

Shaking your head, you found yourself on the verge of tears. "Your hands were bleeding..."

"Alright, alright," Billy removed his hands from yours and brought them to your waist instead, pulling you into his lap, your back against his chest. One of your legs was situated between his knees, and the tiny gesture comforted you. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his arms around your middle. The both of you were still wet from the rain but neither of you cared.

"Needed ya to be nice 'n close when I told ya this," he murmured, kissing your shoulder and lightly rocking you back and forth. "Angel...there ain't nothin' I wouldn't do to keep ya safe. You're my girl. That means you've got me no matter what. Understand?"

You nodded, leaning sideways so you could rest your head on his shoulder. Instantly you knew the gravity of what his love for you meant. Here was a man who loved you enough to protect you.

The realization only made you love him more, and you told him so when the two of you were cuddled back up in bed that morning, the sunrise starting to peek through the window.

"I love you," you breathed against his chest, your affection swelling from your heart and pouring out your mouth like sunshine.

He held your head to him and kissed your hair. "I love you, sweetheart. You're safe with me. I promise."

And as dawn stretched its rosy fingers into the sky, the way you loved him was smooth and soft like the rain that had brought you two together, only leaving joy in its wake. The steady flow of his love was something you could hold onto, something safe and solid, always found when you were nestled in his arms.

come talk about billy here!

[silassinclair]

Like Looking into a Mirror

(PolyLostBoys x Fem!ArtistReader)

Summary: Being a vampire has it's ups and downs. But one of the biggest downs was that you couldn't see yourself. Whether it be in photographs or reflections. This means that neither of the boys have seen what they themselves look like since they were turned. So when a shy little artist introduces herself to the boys with a painting of all of them they realize they not only know what they look like but also have found their mate.

Santa Carla is a city of opportunity. A place flourishing with job opportunity and people buzzling about everywhere. But for yourself, a struggling artist, it was the opposite. Running away from home was supposed to be your fresh start, a way to get away from it all and live your life to the fullest. To paint to your heart's desire. But it was nothing like that.

There were no places for you to work and use your artistry to the fullest. The only place you found where you could work was the library. Reading itself was an art but not exactly your forte, but it was close enough and payed decently.

It was 8 at night. The sun set and the amusement park alive with people. By the beach wall you sat with a miniature canvas, paints, and brushes. Every night you'd come to the boardwalk and paint it's colorful passerby's. Unlike your old small town people here dressed unique. So many colors and style subcultures.

Scanning the crowd you hunted for your new inspiration. Person or people to replicate onto your canvas. Your direction was pulled to the sounds of purring engines. To your left under a streetlamp by the very wall you were sitting on, four men looking your age parked their bikes. Their fashion stood out amongst anyone you have ever seen on the boardwalk.

A bleached platinum blonde. His mullet stood sharp, almost as sharp as his eyes. A tall brunet with no shirt under his long coat. His long hair rested on his back. A natural blonde with wild hair and a just as wild personality. And finally the short one with long blonde curls and a face that could combat a cherub's.

Everything about them was perfect. You studied them for minutes and looked away when you felt their curious gazes turn to you. Having all their features down to memory you painted away. You painted all of them standing together standing in their own way. Straight and confident, collected and cool, laid back, goofy.

As you painted each of the men's features you smiled to yourself. This may have been one of your best works yet. When you finished the piece in an hour or two you would definitely give it to them as a gift. Usually you would give the paintings you made of people to them to see their reactions. Every time they were always very grateful and happy, seeing them smile is the reason why art is your passion.

You really hope they would appreciate it though, since they are your temporary muse of inspiration and these four seem pretty intimidating.

.

.

"Yeah man I'm telling you she kept looking at us. But when I would look at her she'd look away and start writing shit on her canvas or whatever." Paul said while nudging David. He didn't care when his friend told him that the girl to their right kept sneaking glances at them.

Girls stare at him and his vampiric brothers all the time. What can he say? He knows him and his brothers are hotter than hell so who wouldn't stare?

"What Paul, you wanna talk to her or something? Just go talk to the chick like what you always do." David said with an eyeroll and a freshly lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

Paul bashfully looked down and scratched his neck. "Dude I dunno.. she doesn't seem too interested. Probably looking at us because we dress weird?"

Now David was confused. Was his flirt machine of a brother.. shy? A sly grin curled onto the platinum blondes lips. He looked to Dwayne and Marko and those two seemed to catch on quick about Paul's little crush.

Putting his arm around his blonde brother David said, "Do you perhaps like this girl Pauly?"

Paul growled and shoved him off making Marko and Dwayne holler in laughter.

"Dude you're fucking whipped! Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Marko laughed and held his chest. Paul hit him upside the head with his palm.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Dwayne's laughing reduced to small chuckles. He looked over at the girl who Paul seemed so flustered over. She was wearing a long frilly black skirt and a sage green blouse. Her hair styled uniquely and anklets and bracelets adorned their respected limbs.

"Hm.." Dwayne hummed, "I get what you mean Paul."

Paul shot his taller brother a glare. "Yeah. Should have at least checked her out before makin' fun o' me."

Marko looked over to see what all the fuss was over. His eyes widened a fraction when he saw the most beautiful girl he's ever seen. And she was painting too, something he adored doing.

Sensing someone looking at her Y/n looked up and four pairs of eyes were on her. The eyes of the subjects she was painting at the moment. Feeling like she had been caught doing something wrong, she looked back down at her canvas in a flash and finished up the final finishing touches.

"She was totally checking us out." Paul said smirking, well his insecurity flew out the window.

"Dude she's cute as hell man. How'd we not see her around before? And why didn't you tell us Pauly!" Marko grabbed his terror twin by the shoulders and shook him back and forth.

David snapped his fingers and the two instantly stopped with their rough housing. "We're all going to approach her. Perhaps we will have a meal tonight boys, or more."

Deadly smiles grew on the pack's faces. Time to do what they knew best. Lure and capture.

.

.

You stood up when you finally finished the painting. The four of them painted in their signature clothing. All standing together. Two of them smiling and two not. Honestly, you were scared to give this painting to them. What if they didn't like it? Or what if they thought you were some kind of weird stalker?

Walking to the group of the four bikers they all seemed to perk up at your sudden presence.

"What a surprise, we were just about to walk over to you babydoll." The curly haired one said. Your grip on the canvas tightened. Seeming to notice the tallest and only brunet of the group asked,

"What's that you got there sweetheart?"

Ignoring the soaring feeling in your stomach you avoided eye contact with the group and quietly muttered your explanation, "U-Uhm I'm an artist and stuff... It's a hobby and stuff and I paint people on the board walk all the time. And when I saw a-all you four I couldn't help but notice how uniquely dressed you all are. So I painted all of you!"

Looking up at the group finally with a crooked smile on your face you showed them your work and flipped your canvas around revealing your work.

All four of them brought their faces close to the canvas, the two wild blondes started to push and shove and what seemed like the leader of the group punched both of their arms.

"You really did this?" The platinum blonde said. He looked into your eyes, a mixed emotion behind his. His gloved finger pointed at himself painted realistically.

"That's me?"

You nodded and handed the painting to him which he gently accepted.

"Of course that's you silly. I painted the four of y-you. Hope you all like it!"

The four boys looked up at you gratefully. It was sudden but the brunette pulled you into a hug. He didn't seem like the touchy type and it surprised you with his sudden action.

"Thank you sweetheart. My brothers and I appreciate this... a lot. A lot more than you may think." He released you from his chilling yet warm embrace.

"No need to thank me.."

"Dwayne."

"Dwayne, I do this to make people like you and your brother happy. It's what I love about art ya'know?"

He smiled and introduced each of his brothers. David, Paul, and Marko.

"I am truly grateful for this kitten. Say, you wanna ride with us? You know where Hudson's Bluff is right?"

Nodding you let him continue.

"Wanna hang out with us four for the night? Promise we won't let you be bored for even a minute." His black gloved hand twirled a lock of your h/c hair around his finger.

Shyly moving away you muster up the courage to agree and go with him. He asked who you wanted to ride with and Paul seemed to be the most eager to get you to ride with him, so you gave in and got on the back of his bike.

"Hold on doll!" He revved his engine while his brother did the same. Hooting and hollering they sped down the sandy beach taking you to their cave.

"This is just the beginning!" Paul yelled over the sound of the engines. Not understanding him well you tightened your embrace around his torso and leaned in closer.

"You're gonna love us I promise!" Now that one you heard.

this was lowkey dogpiss but my head hurts so oopsie daisy

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

[daydreaming-nerd]

Hey, I saw that you are writing to Rhys and I have been asking, I just ask that you be patient because I don't know how to explain it very well

Anyway, would you like a fic, like, with two scenarios? where Rhys and the reader LITERALLY love each other with the same intensity? like, a scenario where Rhys defends and protects the reader, and another where the reader defends and protects him?

Thanks!

Unconditionally (Rhysand x Female! Reader)

Summary: you and Rhysand are fiercely protective of each other no matter what the situation is. 

AN: I hope this is kinda what you were looking for!

Warnings: fluff, mentions of abuse, Amarantha sighting (brotha ew), blood, death, mentions of rape, SA.

When I found the High Lord of the Night Court I was nothing but a weapon crafted and created from birth by Keir. Chosen for my impeccable beauty, Keir had molded me to be an assassin that could rival Azirel himself. Keir had long sought to own the entirety of the Night Court and he had every intention of using me to do it.  My beauty allowed me to seduce any man within an inch of his life. But my sleight of hand and dexterity made me nearly lethal. When Keir wasn’t using me I was locked away deep within the Hewn City, forced to train with men who were much bigger and stronger than me. Oftentimes I thought to run, escape, but I was always beaten into submission. 

The night I met Rhys was the mission I had been bred to complete for many years. I walked into Rita’s dressed to the nines and blended in perfectly. The second the devilishly handsome High Lord made to leave I followed him, waiting in the shadows until it was my time to strike, the second I got the blade under his neck he winnowed out from under me and returned the favor with a blade of his own. I’ll never forget his first words to me...

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing with such a dangerous weapon?” he drawled. 

He could've killed me that night, but he didn’t, he showed me mercy and maybe pity too. It turned out he knew much more of me than Keir thought he did. He saw how scared I was offered me sanctuary. At the time I didn’t have a clue who he was to me, but looking back, I think he knew all along. Through months of getting to know each other despite my fear of him at first, we grew to like each other. Soon we grew to have witty banter that kept me on my toes, and intelligent conversation about anything and everything that would surpass the long hours after dinner.  After a few months he started sending me on missions with Azriel, and eventually after a year or so he sent me on missions of my own, his way of saying he trusted me.  

One fateful mission I was sent on to an Illiryan camp left me battered and bruised. It seemed the Illyrian generals sought to teach me what happens when a woman comes into their camp and causes problems, even if it is at the request of their High Lord. I never would’ve made it home if Cassain hadn’t found my frozen body in the ditch they had left me in. Looking back I was almost thankful for the event, it was how Rhys and I realized we were mates. Ever since then we had been truly inseparable.

“Rhysand, I won’t ask nicely again,” purred that clearly female voice. 

Amarantha had been after Rhys since he escaped from under the mountain, but I had never seen her in the flesh. She would send letters and emissaries asking for Rhysand to be her whore, promising him riches and luxuries beyond his wildest beliefs. Yet now she stood in the townhouse, auburn hair cascading down her bare shoulders, her black off the shoulder dress squeezing her tightly.  How she got here? I don’t know, but I do know that from where I sat in the shadows she wouldn’t see me drive a knife through her skull. 

“Amarantha, I'm a mated male. The answer is no,” Rhysand drawled trying to keep up appearances, but down the bond I could feel a sense of fear. 

“She can watch if she likes,” Amarantha mused, and it was my last straw. 

I snuck up behind her with the stealth and dexterity that had been bred into me from a young age. I hardly needed to use it anymore, being Rhysand’s mate gave me ample immunity across Prythian. But god if there was ever a time. I press my dagger to Amarantha’s throat and I feel her body try to move but she's far too late.

“Sorry Amarantha I don’t like to share,” I growl, pressing the edge of the blade even deeper. 

“Did I mention that my mate is lethal?” Rhysand boasts with pride.

“I’m s-sorry,” she pleads and a tear falls on my black dagger. 

“Now mate,” Rhysand smirks. “We wouldn’t want to get blood on the new rug.”  

I roll my eyes at his snarky remark. It was little comments and that effortless swagger that had made me fall in love with him in the first place.

“Beg,” I utter in her ear. My voice filled with absolute authority. 

“P-please I’ll leave. I-I’ll never come back,” she says through her sobs. 

I yank her hair back further, “Why should I let you go?” I smirk. 

“Because I’m s-sorry. I-I’m so sorry.” she cries even harder.

“Sorry for what?” I ask condescendingly.   

“For what I d-did to R-Rhysand,” she says, like she’s too afraid to reveal the whole truth.

I felt Rhysand tense through the bond but it only made me see red even more, knowing that her presence still affected him. 

“What did you do to my mate?” I ask like I don’t already know the answer. She stays silent, choosing to cower. “Tell me!” I shout. 

“I’m sorry I f-forced him into my b-bed.” she admits and her knees go weak at her admission the only thing keeping her up is my hand in her hair and my dagger to her neck.

I couldn’t help but see the image of him and her. Rhysand helpless below her as she rode his cock, the reason he still was too scared to let me take him that way. Images of him cumming inside her, his body's natural reaction to what she was forcing him to do. I remember how he told me the stories of him crying himself to sleep while she slept soundly and happily. 

“You touched my mate, and for that you’ll pay the ultimate price,” I sentence her. “He’s fucking mine.” I growl before slitting her throat. 

Her body falls to the floor in a heaping pile of dress skirts and her own blood and I toss my bloodied dagger over her dead body. I check my hands for blood, but like a trained assassin should have it, not a drop is on me. 

“Well so much for the rug,” Rhysand drawls, standing from his chair. 

I walk over to him, the rage the mating bond caused me to see drifting away at the sight of him. He wraps his arms around my waist. 

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “But she was a dead woman the second she stepped in this court. Thinking about what she did to you still makes me sick to my stomach.” 

“Shhh,” Rhys coos, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m not mad at you. If you didn’t kill her I was going to.”

“Sorry I kind went all deadly assassin on you, but-” 

“The mating bond was provoked,” he cuts in, tipping my chin up to meet his gaze. “Trust me I know the feeling. How do you think I feel when you come home injured from a mission?”

“Holy shit y/n!” Cassian drawls from behind me. I turn to find him nudging Amarantha’s limp foot with his boot. “Mating bond chafing a bit?” he chuckles. 

“More than a little bit,” Rhys laughs with male pride. 

I simply raise my eyebrows at the Illyrian in a challenge and pull Rhys down to kiss me.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Rhys asks me for the millionth time. 

“Yes Rhys I’ll be fine! I promise!” I reply but I wasn’t too sure of my answer. 

I had never been back to The Hewn City since I left on that mission to kill Rhys all those years ago. But today I finally made my return. I had avoided the city as much as possible and Rhys never so much as asked me to come along with him. Returning would mean the torture, the assault and every nightmare I faced here, I would have to face again. Today I had decided I was done hiding, I wanted to face my fear, show Keir that I was more than just what he made me. I knew I would be more vulnerable down here, most likely off my game. But Rhys had assured me we would only be making a quick appearance at the party and then leaving, so I felt now was as good a time as ever. 

“Alight, but if you want to leave at any time you let me know okay?” he says, kissing my brow.

“I will,” I smile. 

We walk through the large doors to find the people of The Hewn City already kneeling. The second I come into view their gasps reverberate throughout the room. Everyone knew I was Keir’s pet, but now I stood dressed in black with a crown atop my head, beside the one man I was bred to kill. The High Lord. 

We take our seats on the twin thrones at the end of the room. Keir bows to us both and I don’t miss the shock in his eyes as he sees what became of his pet. It becomes clear to me that he thought I was dead for all these years, and now I walk into his city once more with a crown on top of my head. 

“Let there be music and dancing!” Rhys proclaims and the room fills with a beautiful orchestra as the festivities begin. 

“Welcome Rhysand, who have you brought with you tonight?” Keir asks, faking his innocence.

“My mate of course,” Rhys says, pressing a kiss to my hand. “I must thank you for introducing us. She is without a doubt the most delectable creature I’ve ever known.” he continues nibbling my palm. 

“I- uh. Well” Keir stumbles over his words. 

“Leave us,” Rhysand orders. 

Keir scrambles down the steps to wherever he thinks he might be safe from Rhysand’s death stare. I knew this place always put him on edge, no doubt with me here tonight he was fuming. 

“How are you feeling?” Rhys asks, fondling my hand.  

“Good, considering I’ve never seen Keir show true fear before,” I laugh replaying the image in my head. 

“Maybe next time I’ll have him juggle and sing you a song then too mate,” Rhys chuckles. 

I watched as people danced and sang and were generally happy. I never knew this side of the Hewn City. The normal side I should say. Keir always kept me locked in the dungeons, the only time I was ever allowed out was on missions and when he chose to parade me around like his little pet. His way of striking fear into the hearts of his subjects. Seeing the people act like, well, people was almost jarring. They were monsters, but they were still fae just like me. 

“I’m thirsty darling, I'm going to grab a glass of wine, would you like one?” I ask Rhys. 

“Yes but let me fetch a servant or come with you.” he replies and I can sense his unease. 

“No, I want to show them all I’m not afraid of them,” I say quietly so only Rhys can hear. He nods his head and I feel him tug on the bond as if to say ‘be safe’. 

I waltz down the dias steps and over to the corner where wine is held in large barrels.  I don’t miss the shocked looks from those around me followed by hushed whispers. No doubt all of them were talking about how I used to be Keir’s pet. I keep my head held high and reach for a glass to fill up. 

“Well hello beautiful,” a deep voice drawls from behind me and I whip around 

My shoulders tense up. I would recognize that voice anywhere. Dante. The man who helped to “train me”  in the art of seduction. He would come into my cell and teach me how to seduce a man, which of course led to him taking advantage of me. He was one of Keir’s favorites. 

“Remember all the fun we used to have little one?” he grins wickedly stepping towards me. 

“Normal people would call that rape,” I snipe at him, trying to act like I’m not terrified. 

“Oh but you used to make such pretty sounds for me,” he teases, stepping closer and I feel my back hit the wall. “Lets see if you still do.” 

In a second his body presses me to the wall and his hands are hiking up my skirts. I try to push him off or look for help, but here in the Hewn City it wasn’t uncommon for males to take what they want when they want it. 

Dante’s motions stop and his eyes go wide, like his brain is about to explode. He falls to his knees before me and every vein in his head and neck look like it’s about to burst. I look up to see Rhys standing behind him, nothing but pure murder in his eyes.

“I would think twice before touching another male’s mate,” Rhys grits out standing in front of me so he can look down on Dante. “Especially your High Lord’s.”  

“I’m sorry Rhysand I didn’t know,” Dante wheezes. 

“Have you touched my mate before?” Rhys asks and Dante neglects to answer. “Very well then I’ll just have to find out for myself.” 

Dante screams in agony writhing on the floor, Rhys no doubt tearing into his mind to find out what he wants to know. I look around at the stunned faces watching one of their own lose his mind in the middle of the ballroom, even the orchestra had stopped. I felt shame fall over me as I realized what Rhys was seeing. Images of me, dirty, bruised and helpless being forced to seduce and please the man writing on the ground. Rhysand’s shoulders tensed and suddenly Dante stopped writhing. 

“So you have touched her before,” Rhysand drawls. “What a pity, I almost considered letting you off with a warning.” 

Within moments Dante’s screams echoed off the walls and I knew what Rhys was doing, he had done it to the Illyrain who threw me in a ditch all those years ago. He was melting his mind from the inside out. He didn’t even have to lift a finger. 

“Let it be known that whoever disrespects my mate again shall meet the same fate!” Rhysand’s voice booms, addressing the crowd now. “Maestro you may continue!” he finishes, turning to me.

Rhysand’s shadows shield us from the rest of the onlooking crowd and the second I look into his eyes I’m immediately comforted. 

“Are you okay?” he asks me, taking me in his arms. 

“Yeah I’m fine, you got here before anything happened.” I sigh, melting into his touch. “I’m sorry you had to see that, you know, the things he did to me. I hoped you’d never know” I say, casting my head down in shame. 

“Hey don’t you dare be ashamed,” he says tilting my chin up. “What he did to you was unforgivable. If I had known earlier I would’ve had his head on a pike.” 

“I love you Rhys,” I say, burrowing my head into his chest. 

“I love you too mate,” he smiles stroking my hair. “Let’s go home.” 

[artistsfuneral]

Jaskier meets Death at a forked path. He has never seen them in person before, their face - although incredible kind looking - is not one he's familiar with and yet he instinctively knows who is in front of him.

It's quite the idyllic picture to be honest. The path Jaskier has been following for the past few hours is lined with rough stone walls, the ones that are keeping flocks of sheep from straying too far. The sun is out and shining through the tree's leaves, creating a kaleidoscope of dancing shadows on the fresh grass. Death sits under one such dancing shadow-patch, surrounded by napping sheep. Their left hand is idly petting the spotted fur of a guardian dog, with their right, they're waving Jaskier over to join them.

He silently wonders if he should be scared. Others certainly would be terrified upon seeing Death waiting for them, but Jaskier has always been easily intrigued. Besides, Death is hardly looming over him, it's more like they're waiting for him - like one may wait for an old friend. It could be a trick of course, he muses as he walks over to where Death is sitting, then again it feels like the two of them could have met many, many times before and in much worse situations than this. So who is Jaskier to question Death?

The closer he gets the more he is able to take in. They're tall - taller than anyone he's met before, Jaskier thinks - and incredibly pretty. Not in the perfectly manicured kind of pretty, like some of the most beautiful darlings at court tend to be. No, Death carries a natural loveliness that can only be found and never created, like a special constellation of freckles, an off-center nose, or a small gap between your teeth. Death is everyone Jaskier ever sung of combined in one person, which makes him wonder if they always look like this or if they changed their appearance to please Jaskier's eyes specifically. If the latter, he'd surely feel flattered.

"Come sit with me, sweetheart," Death says and Jaskier is delighted to hear their voice. It's a very nice voice. He wants to hear Death laugh, he realizes as he sinks down next to them on the grass. Their eyes meet his and Death sends him the kindest smile, "It's been a while since I've seen you, sweetheart, I'm glad to see you happy and healthy." Jaskier grins, because what a funny thing for Death to say, but he can hear the honesty in their words. "Oh you know, just the usual aches and pains of my slowly progressing age. Nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before, I'm sure," Jaskier happily chatters back in the same familiar tone. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?" He asks and reaches for his pack. Might as well take his lunch break now, while the fruit he bought earlier this day are still fresh. Death answers his question with an agreeing hum and oh yes, Jaskier might just fall in love with them right then and there.

He focuses on his lunch and wills his foolish heart to calm. "Would you like some?" he asks Death, because his Mama raised him well and eating alone is never quite as enjoyable as sharing a meal. Death looks at him with amusement in their eyes. "I can not eat, but I appreciate the gesture."

Jaskier sighs, "What a pity."

"A small price to pay for a life like mine."

"You're alive?"

"I am here, am I not?"

He looks at Death wide eyed, a hundred thoughts stumbling through his mind at the same time. "I have so many questions."

"And I have a favor to ask of you, sweetheart," Death retords not unkindly. Throughout their short conversation the amusement never quite left their eyes and while Jaskier would normally feel patronized by such a look he somehow knows that Death is simply enjoying his company.

"Are we doing this right? Doesn't this whole asking for a favor thing usually go the other way around?" Death laughs and Jaskier's heart does a little jump, his fingers itch to write a new song. "You read too much, sweetheart."

"I don't believe there's such a thing as reading too much."

"The words of a scholar and a poet."

"At your service."

"Of course. I always get what I want," Death says knowingly, shoving yet another metaphorical box of Pontar towards Jaskier. Lucky for him he has long since learned to not think about these kind of things too much. It does feel a little bit like Death tricked him, though he loves a good repartee. "I have to admit, I am curious indeed. What could I possibly offer to you?"

Death turns their head away from him, looking at the dog in deep consideration. "I need..." Death pauses and Jaskier almost wants to think of it in a hesitant way, "to win a bet." The bard's shoulders drop immediately. "Ah," he says, because the hesitation now starts to make sense. Surely Death must know this of him. "I don't do bets, I'm afraid. It never ends well for the poets caught in between."

"I know," Death agrees easily and not very reassuringly, as a matter of fact. "But I am in need of a song. A song to bring the gods to tears and neither can I write nor sing. What I can do, is offer you my protection."

Jaskier's mind floods with thoughts.

Protection from Death.

The two of them stare into each other's eyes, the world around them timeless, everlasting. Finally, it is Jaskier who breaks the contact and returns to his bundle of food. He bites into a fruit, it's sweet juices run down his chin and drip onto his chemise. "I will make the gods weep," he declares and watches Death smile full of warmth.