#also to whoever it may concern!!!

[melkintoyou]

thinking about arguing with mark over text and him just showing up outside your house with a text saying “ok come let me in then” and you would run to the door half panicking bc it’s the middle of the night and you didn’t expect things to get this heated?

he would fully not even have one foot in the house before he’s trying to kiss you and you’d push him away. “I’m still mad at you” you’d say holding back a smile at his sweet gesture.

“clearly not mad enough to not let me in, gimme a kiss babe” he would try to lighten the mood.

“ok I’m sorry, I know I should’ve planned my time better and not double booked myself but I’m here… baby.. I’m sorry” he’d look at you with his big doe eyes, trying to grab your waist so he can hold you in an embrace. he’d cling to your body and follow you around the house and up the stairs, into your room.

“mark, look.. I understand we get busy but you have got to let me know your schedule on the days we agree to see each other. a commitment is a commitment and you ca-“

he wouldn’t even let you finish your sentence before his lips would come crashing down on yours, knocking the wind out of your lungs. you’d try your best to keep a stern tone but his grip on you would tighten, kisses would travel down from your lips to your jaw, to your neck..

“Yo! Fuck you for thinking I’m just gonna stop being mad if you come over tryna act all cute. You piss me off!” you’d push him back lightly, trying your best not to melt to his touch. and it would work too until your eyes would meet his. all you would see is his lips slowly curl into a smile, before he takes his bottom lip into his mouth.

walking towards you slowly, he’d stand behind you and move your hair to one side. leaving kisses down the back of your neck, he’d whisper in your ear, “you’re kinda sexy when you’re mad” he’d snake his arm from your shoulder to your neck and give it a light, gentle squeeze and you’d feel your underwear slowly dampen as you try to hold it together. he’d chuckle, noticing the goosebumps on your skin. he’d let his other hand travel from your nipples to slip into your shorts.

his long fingers, with rings still on from his schedule earlier, would find their way in between your folds to gather up all the slick just to bring it up to your clit. “Mar..k” you’d whimper his name, falling weak to his touch.

running slow circles, he’d ask “nah.. please continue all the shit you were talking earlier”

[softquietsteadylove]

Thena and Gil playfully arguing…in business style!

Tyrant King,

If you would find it suitable, I have had a meeting cancellation this afternoon.

Gil's brows raised as he read the email on his phone. It was nothing if not succinct--classic Ice Queen. She didn't even sign it. But he was surprised she had even attempted to invite him over today. She had stated she was busy all week. No time for them to 'meet'.

No time for them to fuck like wild animals in her office between meetings.

Why so formal, Ice? If you want me to come over, just say so ;)

Her response was prompt, which proved to him that she was anxiously awaiting his response, much to his delight. She could play coy as much as she liked, but she wasn't very good at that game. In all fairness, nor was he.

I have a tight schedule today, Tyrant. I am offering my time, not begging you for your company. You may disregard my previous email if you are otherwise engaged.

Ice cold, his Princess was. But Gil grinned, happily responding, still in email rather than texting. She had yet to give him her personal number, but he was honestly just glad she wasn't having Kingo filter his messages to her, either.

As per my previous email, I would be happy to meet if your schedule sees fit, Ice.

Two could play at this game. Even as he was looking over his schedule and moving things around for himself. He really needed a Kingo for himself, and her older chief of staff Karun also seemed really on top of things. He had once joked that he would try to poach them from her, and the look he got made him know why people were so afraid of someone as beautiful and delicate as she was.

I have a meeting slot available from 4 onward.

So, it was a lie that she had a tight schedule. If she was offering her 4 o'clock then that was her last meeting for the day, most likely. Unless she was planning to make wild love for a tight 45 minutes and then have meetings until 6.

The whole hour?

If you think our business will take that long, I can offer you the full hour. I advise you decide preemptively if you require the full allotment.

Oh, she thought he didn't want the full time? She was making a joke about him not lasting long, sure. But he was having too much fun flirting with her to let it get to him. He gleefully typed out his response, already swiping his other hand through his hair.

Please be advised, Ice Queen, I believe I have several positions to propose during our meeting. I do hope you are prepared for such intentions during only one hour.

He would give anything to see her face right now. He liked it when she got kind of flustered, even when she was annoyed with him. Call him childish, he liked having her attention. He was entirely the the old story of a boy not knowing how to tell a girl how much he liked her, so instead he did little things to get under her skin.

She was facetiming him.

He picked it up with a wicked grin on his face, "to what do I owe the honour, Ice?"

"I would prefer not to have a paper trail for this proposal, as you put it," she glared at him. She knew he was having fun with their little entendres. "Are you coming or not?"

"Don't I always, with you?"

"Insipid juvenile," she practically hissed at him. She leaned back in her chair, ever poised and elegant. "If you don't want the time slot, I'll schedule someone else."

Gil frowned. "Are we still talking about us, Princess?"

She raised her brows at him--the minx. "I was talking about meetings."

He growled faintly under his breath. Such an impossible woman he had chosen. "I'll be there. Who would you even have offered it to?"

She shrugged, now playing coy for her own enjoyment. "I heard the Prince Eternal is floating around the city. I'm sure if I contacted his beastly little assistant, he'd come running."

Gil puffed through his nose, feeling like a bull getting a red cape waved at him. "Now you're just trying to piss me off."

Thena's eyes dashed down to her lap. She was playing a game of chicken with him, and the Ice Queen didn't take unnecessary risks. "My time is valuable, Tyrant. And others are willing to pay even more than you."

That may have been true, but no one would give her more.

He tugged at his shirt, calling her bluff, "you hate that guy."

She made a face; there was no lying about that. "Perhaps, but it's always at least a few million whenever he pays me a visit."

Gil rolled his eyes. He didn't have to be part of the rich boys who were all insignificant admirers of hers. He wasn't some kid with a crush, he was the Tyrant King.

"Thena," he began, and immediately she was set on edge. Even though they had made love several times now (not that she called it that). He leaned forward, making sure his shoulders looked nice and wide in the shot. He lowered his voice, giving her his best, most smouldering look. "I want to see you."

Desired effect: achieved. She blinked, looking just the littlest bit flustered, maybe even blushing a little. Her eyes drifted away again, but she was smiling a little, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. The diamond stud on her ear cuff sparkled at him. It made him want to pull it off with his teeth.

"Fine," she attempted to maintain her cold facade, but he could see a little more Thena under it. She drew her lace tighter around her. "I'll tell Karun to expect you."

And with that, she was done talking about it. She hung up, but Gil didn't feel hung up on. He smiled, slipping his phone into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He stood, fluffing his hair again and grabbing his essentials to tell his security that he was leaving the office.

He had an important date to make.

[stonerzelda]

Unfortunately that kitten had to go back to her foster mom who. I am pretty sure is going to be fired from the shelter we work with because holy fuck she was The worst -_- god she was cute tho im glad i got to spend time with her today

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Healing Factor

Danny Fenton is a little shit, everyone knows that. Now, consider he is medically inaccurate, but on purpose, and it makes everyone question their life.

Because he has an accelerated healing factor. He is also a ghost and his bones are nonexistent half the time. He may look like a human, he may act like a human, but he is not really one, and he forgets about it sometimes. Or maybe he's just fucking with everyone.

So imagine he got caught up in a fight in Gotham, Crime Alley to be exact, and he fist fought some robbers or muggers or whoever. Then Red Hood comes to save the day, and when he asks this teenage scrawny boy who looks like he doesn't even know what taxes are, is he okay, Danny just

Spits a bloody clot on the floor, looks at it for a moment, and goes, "Oh. That's a tooth," with little to no emotion to it. Jason is now concerned because it kind of looks like the boy is concussed. But that's definitely a tooth on the floor, yes.

"Shouldn't you be more worried about it?"

Danny shrugs nonchalantly, "Why should I? It's gonna grow back."

"What?"

"You know how when you are a baby, your teeth fall out, and then you get new teeth? So since I lost one, a new one's gonna grow out," Danny explains, and Jason is not even sure what to say because, first, no, that's not how it works, and second, who the fuck doesn't know that at fifteen? Has this boy ever been to dentist?

"Kid, no, you only get two sets of teeth," he carefully tells him, "Baby teeth and adult teeth. That's it, no more teeth, you're not a shark."

Danny blinks at him slowly. Then, he reaches inside his mouth with his fingers, touches his teeth, and shrugs, "How come it's back already then?"

Before Jason can ask anything, the boy opens his mouth to reveal a perfect set of teeth. Nothing is missing. He looks back to the floor, and, yup, that's a tooth there.

But no teeth are missing.

What the fuck.

"Wanna keep it to offer to the tooth fairy? No one said she only takes your teeth," the boy asks him.

Later, Danny calls Jazz with a single purpose of telling her he is now a shark and hanging up on her.

[demilypyro]

Chat is a very useful term tbh. It's like "whoever is receiving this." "To whom it may concern." I'm addressing everyone but also no one in particular

[thedailydescent]

📚Book Raffle for Yahya! 📚

Hi guys,

Yahya's fundraiser has been stagnating to a concerning degree for over a month, so I've decided to host a book raffle on behalf of his family.

Yahya (@yahyabkheeblog) is a husband and father of three, who has been struggling to raise the necessary funds to get his whole family on the evacuation list. I have spoken about this family here, here, and here, and you can also find more information from their old blog here.

With winter coming, and a lack of protection from the elements, he currently needs right away:

-$200 per metre of shade ⛺️

-$100 x 3 for winter clothes for each of his children ($300)

If he does not raise the funds to properly secure their tent by the next upcoming shower and the tent is destroyed, then he will need to purchase a new one, which can cost up to $1000.

Other necessities that Yahya and his family will also need:

-medicine for Dima, Mira, and Anas, who have, and will be again, at risk of getting sick due to seasonal change, polluted water, and lack of protection from the elements. With a reminder to everyone, there have been recorded cases of Polio in Gaza, and second rounds of vaccinations for children under 10 will not occur until mid-October.

-medicine for Yahya's mother, who suffers from heart disease and diabetes

-everyday supplies such as food, clean water, bedding materials, new mattresses, charcoal for cooking, firewood, soap/toothpaste, sanitary products, money for Internet access, etc.

-at least $27,500 for the Ya Hala Egyptian Travel Company to be able to cross into Egypt.

Whoever wins my raffle will receive a copy of House of Psychotic Women by Kier-La Janisse.

If you donate:

-€5-€9.99 to Yayha, you are entered in once,

-€10-€14.99, twice,

-€15-€19.99, three times,

-€20-€24.99, four times,

-€25+, five times.

Send me proof of donation by dropping it in my submission box (if I follow you or we're mutuals you may message me). The donation must have occurred between Oct 1-30. Oct 30 is the last day to enter and the winner will be announced on Oct 31!

This fundraiser has been vetted by nabulsi.

Tagging for further reach (let me know if you don't want me to tag you):

@neptunerings @khanger @ana-bananya @dirhwangdaseul @buttercuparry

@maester-cressen @brutaliakhoa @doublycharming-tetraquark @captainsaltymuyfancy @danlous

@strangeauthor @socalgal @diasdelasombra @lesbianmaxevans @greetings-fiends

@heydreamchild @tortiefrancis @appsa @northgazaupdates @lesbiandardevil

@victoriawhimsey @commissions4aid-international @punkpal @officialspec @dlxxv-vetted-donations

@transmutationisms @komsomolka @prisonhannibal @ericbogosbian @beserkerjewel

@a-shade-of-blue @tododeku-or-bust @streakoflavender @pikslasrce @pcktknife

@heliopixels @chilewithcarnage @greed-the-dorkalicious @naggingatlas @butchmagicalboi

@dykesbat @juniperhillpatient @jezior0 @claudiaeparvier @thevampirejules

[greensagephase]

Expectant Father!Miguel

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader Summary: Sweet Miguel who's a daddy to be and trying his best to support you and prepare for the baby's arrival! Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: none, just fluff Masterlist

Imagining a Miguel who after BTSV grieves and heals from his loss and trauma. He opens up and falls in love with someone, you, a Spider-Woman from another universe. The two of you eventually get married and after a few years of a beautiful marriage life, the talk about children comes up once more. You both talked about it early on in your relationship, of course, especially with Miguel losing Gabriella. You wanted to make sure that Miguel was open to the idea of starting a family in the future.

Even after marriage, the topic came up a few times here and there. Each time, Miguel always reassured you that he was open and ready for whenever you both decided to begin trying. And so, the talk eventually started again after a few years of enjoying your marriage. You both discussed it and reassured each other that you were both more than ready to start, so at last, Miguel and you begin trying!

Surprisingly, or may not so much, you soon begin to show symptoms and before you know it, there’s Miguel and you in your shared bathroom with pregnancy tests. Miguel holds your hand as you both wait for the result, both feeling nervous because this could be it. Trying to ease your nerves and his racing heart, Miguel peppers your forehead with kisses, whispering sweet words of reassurance.

“Te amo [I love you].”

“Don’t stress if it’s false symptoms, mi vida [my life]. We’ll keep trying.”

After what feels like forever, the tests reveal the results…

Expectant Father!Miguel, who tears up and wraps his arms tightly around you before kissing your face out of pure love and affection when the pregnancy test turns out positive.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who can’t sleep that night out of excitement! Miguel holds you close to his chest while you sleep soundly, planting tender and sweet kisses to your head to avoid waking you up as he thinks about the new and beautiful change in your lives, unable to believe that this is happening. He’s going to be a dad!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who wants to tell the whole world that you’re pregnant, but who agrees not to say anything for the first trimester, just in case. Despite wanting to scream the news to all of Nueva York, Miguel also loves being able to keep the news to yourselves. It’s your little secret!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who wants you to have the best midwife, doula, ob/gyn, or whoever you wish to treat you during your pregnancy. Miguel wants to make sure you and the baby will be well taken care off during and after the pregnancy in all aspects, especially medically, so he does research like his life depends on it with you to choose the right professional. This is especially important to him because he’s aware of how often women are disregarded when it comes to their own health, so Miguel wants to make sure that whoever you both work with, takes your concerns seriously.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who goes with you to every single appointment. No matter what. Miguel will schedule things around the appointments in order to go with you because he’s not missing one. His eyes soften up every single time he looks at the screen, seeing your baby moving around. He holds your hand, smiling and filled with happiness as the professional explains the progress. He may not say it at every appointment but he always thinks about how you both, “made that” happen.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who holds the ultrasound pictures after the appointment in his hands, looking longingly at them. At home, he asks if it's okay to frame them so they can be added to the wall of photos in your living room. He personally hangs it up!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who already keeps a stock of your favorite snacks in his lab, but now that you’re pregnant, expands it. As your pregnancy progresses and you start getting weird cravings, Miguel stocks up on a mixture of food items to be ready.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who will go anywhere and everywhere to get you food when you get cravings, no matter how weird they are. Miguel will travel the multiverse, even at 4am, to satisfy the cravings you and baby have!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who gains weight during the pregnancy, too! He doesn’t mind at all, but instead smiles every time he remembers, feels, or sees the new extra weight because “estamos esperando, mi amor [we’re expecting, my love].” He’s proud of it and he doesn’t let any little joke or comment about it get to him!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who massages your swollen feet to ease your discomfort! He tenderly massages them and rubs lotion to keep them soft. Talking about this, Miguel will do your toenails if you don’t get them done professionally. He surprisingly does a great job and he finds that this is another great way to continue pampering you in the future. Miguel also helps you put your shoes on, tying them when it's necessary when you find it too difficult as your pregnancy progresses.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who always tells you how beautiful you are, but especially now that you’re pregnant. Miguel thinks you’re absolutely gorgeous with your pregnancy glow, that's how he sees you, but he also knows that you could easily get ideas about your body not looking good or feeling self-conscious, so he makes sure to tell you often how stunning you are. Miguel wants you to know he loves you no matter what your body looks like!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who buys you the prettiest maternity clothes! He doesn’t care to spend money on clothes or anything else because he wants to you to feel beautiful and comfortable all throughout your pregnancy. Every time you go shopping, he always wants to buy you something, even when you tell him that you have enough clothes but again, Miguel wants you to feel beautiful and comfortable. Plus, Miguel is sure the maternity clothes will come in handy again in a few years!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who holds you tenderly and whispers in your ear how beautiful and strong you are when you have those moments of self-consciousness. He gently reminds you it’s okay to feel that, he knows your body is experiencing changes, but he also reminds you that in his eyes, you’re absolutely beautiful. “Eres una diosa, mi amor [you’re a goddess, my love]”, he whispers.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who starts reading books about parenting and babies! Miguel is an avid reader (you cannot change my mind about this; the man loves to read, but with so many duties as the leader of the Spider Society, our current Miguel doesn’t make much time for it, but he’s def a bookworm), so it’s no surprise that a neat pile of books always sits on his nightstand, but the difference is that his books suddenly turn from science and fiction genres to books about parenting, children, and childbirth to educate and prepare himself as a father. As the pregnancy progresses, Miguel stays up late reading while you’re curled up at his side, sleeping soundly. He rubs your back tenderly with his free hand, partly to comfort you in your sleep but also because physical touch is one of his love languages. Miguel takes little breaks here and there just to admire your sleeping figure, wondering what he did to deserve you and the life he has with you.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who loves cooking to spoil you! He already enjoyed cooking for you before but now he finds double the happiness because he knows you’re eating for two! Also, Miguel will cook anything and everything for you; from your favorite dishes to new ones you’re suddenly craving, even if he’s never cooked it before.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who has to keep his emotions in check during the first trimester because you both agreed to keep your pregnancy a secret to avoid raising suspicions. You both agreed to keep it a secret until the first trimester just in case there are complications, which thankfully do not come up. Despite both of you agreeing to behave normally, people at HQ begin to wonder why Miguel is suddenly extra smiley. Some spider members ask him about it, which makes him realize he’s not doing too great of a job acting normal (but like, you can’t blame him! Miguel is just so, so, so happy that you’re going to be parents!). During the first trimester, some spider members dare ask why he’s so much more cheerful, so he always hits them up with, “Can’t I just smile?” He then puts on a grumpy face for show and to quiet down the suspicions, even though he’s so happy he’d buy a holographic billboard to announce your pregnancy to the entire population of Nueva York if he could, which financially he can, but he’s certain you wouldn’t appreciate that too much.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who no longer bothers to hide his happiness and excitement once the first trimester has passed and you announce it to your friends and coworkers at HQ because the pregnancy is going well. He doesn’t care to hide his excitement when someone asks him how you’re doing or if he’s ready for possible sleepless nights.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who truly, and I mean truly, doesn’t care about the baby’s gender! You guys talk about it as the weeks go by, wondering and guessing for fun, but Miguel truly doesn’t care. Whether it’s a girl or a boy, Miguel is going to love, cherish, and protect that child until his last breath!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who is over the moon when your baby bump starts showing! His gaze softens every time his eyes land on it, his heart elated with happiness. Miguel loves to cup it in his large hands, filled with awe that a little being half him and half yours is growing in your tummy. He obviously knows how the process works but either way, Miguel is always filled with such awe as he caresses and cups your bump.

Expectant Father!Miguel, whose eyes widen and mouth parts the first time he feels the baby kick. He looks at you, his expression one of love and tenderness while he feels the soft kicks under his hands. He kisses you sweetly before he kisses your bump and whispers softly, “Mi familia [my family].” He laughs softly as baby keeps kicking and jokes about having “un futbolista [a fútbol player]” in the family, which only seems to fuel the kicks. This is how you both discover that the baby loves listening to him talk.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who talks to your tummy every day once you both discover that the baby loves listening to his voice. Miguel talks about how excited he is for the baby to arrive, about how loved they will be by both their parents. He often reminds the baby that, “I’ll always protect and love you.”

Expectant Father!Miguel, who is involved in a very part of putting together the nursery because he’s so excited about it. You catch him smiling to himself very often while you both work on the nursery little by little over the months. He builds the crib, making sure that it’s assembled properly for the baby’s well being, and every other piece of furniture that needs to be put together. Talking about furniture, Miguel makes sure there’s a bookcase included, one you both slowly fill with children’s books. He helps hang up the picture frames you both decided on with cute photos appropriate for a baby nursery. He buys the most comfortable chair/couch for the room so that you’re both always comfortable while tending to the baby. You try to keep a budget for the room, but Miguel tells you to not worry about that! Miguel has more than enough money to provide for you and the baby, and he doesn’t care to spend it on the two of you, so he has no budget when it comes to setting up the baby’s room because he wants to make sure you and the baby have everything that’s needed!!

Expectant Father!Miguel, who goes with you to every class you attend to prepare for the baby’s arrival. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the middle of the day. Just like how he schedules things around doctor appointments, Miguel also fits these classes in not only to make sure he’s there as a supporting spouse but also to learn and be prepared to assist and support you when the baby arrives.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who smiles warmly when members from the Spider Society throw you a surprise baby shower. He looks at the cute and small clothes with affection, filled with some amusement as well when he sees some of them are spider theme.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who reads to the baby and you because he learned from somewhere that this is beneficial for children. He does this late in the evenings when you’re both cuddling on the couch, his hand tenderly caressing your stomach. Due to his gentle voice, he usually lulls you to sleep right there on the couch. If you don’t wake up soon, Miguel carries you to bed.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who also plays music for the baby and you. Again, he read something about this having benefits, so he’ll play different genres but usually it’s calm tunes you both choose to play.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who sits with you to decide on a name once you find out the gender of the baby. You ask him about his opinion on the choices you’ve both selected, but he can’t settle on one. He never realized how hard it’s to choose a name, something your child will have forever. You think it’s cute how his eyebrows furrow in deep thought as he contemplates on his personal choice.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who sits on the floor while you sit on the chair you decided on for the nursery while the two of you pack the hospital bag when you’re in the last few weeks of your pregnancy. He checks the bag about a thousand times to make sure you and baby will have everything that’s needed while at the hospital, trying to make sure neither of you have forgotten something.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who makes sure your place is clean right before the baby arrives so that when you come home, the place will be spotless. He also makes sure that all the devices for the baby, such as the baby monitor, are ready to go.

Expectant Father!Miguel, who holds your hand as you’re about to have the baby and refuses to leave your side no matter what! He quietly and sweetly tells you how much he loves you, how strong and beautiful you are. He knows his words of encouragement might do little to ease your pain and discomfort, but the words spill from his mouth regardless because he truly believes what he’s saying. He brings your hand to his lips before he kisses the back of it with misty eyes, filled with so many emotions.

Papa!Miguel, who wipes his tears when the nurse hands you the baby for the first time. He gazes at you with so much love and affection while you hold your baby for the first time, noticing how gentle and natural you are at motherhood. He saves the image in his mind, knowing he'll remember that moment for the rest of his life.

Papa!Miguel, whose eyes spill more tears when you hand the baby to him so he can experience holding his child for the first time, too. His soft gaze captures every detail of his child’s face, searing it into his memory forever. He notes how light and small they feel in his arms, the warmth from their little body, and the beautiful scent coming from his child. He turns to look at you, smiling, and in that moment, he wonders if he’s dreaming all of this. If so, Miguel silently wishes that he never wakes up from this beautiful dream.

Finally got to post this one; it's been in my Notion vault since April 💀but anyway, thank you for reading!

Alondra❤️

[just-some-user-hunny]

Yandere vampire hunter D

‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊Yandere D and his obsession ♡...

~✧ Having D as your yandere is a complex experience. He wants to be close, but he stays far away. He needs to make sure you're safe, but please don't see him. He cannot bear the pain of your rejection.

~✧ Unlike his reputable existence- he's not a cruel yandere. he's too gentle for a dhampir, but too unorthodox for a human. He's an entity all of his own- a strange creature that beckons silently and unexpectedly under to your heed and calls for help, without you even knowing it.

~✧ He's a stalking yandere who watches and protects you from far away- he'll always be the eerie extra set of footsteps that follow accompany you home. He's the shadow who occupies the darkness that lingers in doorways- the shape of a foreboding figure leering silently in your home when you think you're all alone... Unaware of the filthy vampires blood that wets his blade, the one that stalked you home that very evening. He took care of it, but you don't need to know that.

~✧ He is always near- as much as he can spare, when he is not hunting the creatures whom he shares blood with. It is not often that he parts from your shadow from afar, and traverses away from the direction of your sweet breath and presence- but when he does, you'll always linger in the back of his mind.

~✧"I mean it D. This is getting dangerous now". The parasite will seeth quietly, only to be wordlessly silenced with a stern commanding grip. This is of no concern to you, stay out of this.

~✧ The parasite will grumble and huff. Of course this is of concern to him. He can see every dark crevice of this dhampires mind- and frankly he's tired of the constant presence of you occupying it. Your name, your face, your hair, your figure, your blood-

~✧ Silence. D will command with a cool, icy tone. Peeved.

~✧ D has vowed to protect you from everything that means harm, and he means everything. Even himself. He can deny all he wants, but he knows his urges will always be lurking within him- no matter how hard he resists. Be assured he's a damn good fighter, but it will urge him to stay away further for the sake of your safety.

He is half human like you, yes- but he also has the blood of vampyre. Dark depraved creatures of the night that desire blood and agony. He cannot deny himself of his own existence, he has tried well and truly- and this obsession of his won't change that.

The parts of him that reveal are always soft and lenient. Subtle and protective. If only you could see the darkness of his desires that twist and coil within him like a nest of asps. Slithering and hissing with poison and desire.

~✧ But believe it when I say this, he is not a sadistic creature. Especially towards you. He may hunger for you, desires of possession and adoration grasping at his cold heart- but trust that no harm will ever come to you. Especially by his own hand or word. Does he frighten you with his daunting height and unnerving presence? Very well. He'll stay out of sight, appearing nothing more than a shadow in your footsteps. Does being followed home scare you? Then he shall take care in not getting too close then- close enough where you are within his sights, but not close enough where you can hear his steady and even footsteps following in your own tracks.

~✧ As time goes on and you inevitably catch onto his presence, things will gradually change. There's only so many times you awake to find yourself properly tucked into bed after collapsing onto your couch after a long day at work, or capture a glimpse of the tall foreboding shadow in your doorway to use the same excuse of exhaustion to explain it. It's not just paranoid fueled visions anymore.

~✧ However, much to your chagrin and determination to expose whoever this mysterious guardian angel of yours is, he'll never expose himself. He can't afford it. You'll often be left feeling like a fool as you call out into the dark street for whoever he is to appear- only to be met with the stillness of the lonely night and sound of cicadas chirping softly in the grass.

~✧ The only scenario in which he would ever approach and expose his identity, is if you were in trouble. Still- once the threat is gone, and you are safe, he's eager to dispel back into the shadows.

~✧ The thing with D as a yandere, is that he's fully lucid about what he's doing is... Wrong. But he can't help himself. Often he is troubled with the morals of his own doing- a neverending internal debate. Thoughts upon thoughts spiral and twist into an endless entangling web, and all he can do is mull over it and helplessly tangle at his own thoughts with a distant stare and tongue held between his sharp teeth. Brooding and mulling.

~✧ He knows this isn't right. His desires to protect you are more than that of a silent saviour- he's not doing this for a reward or thanks- he's not looking for your gratitude or admiration. He's selfish. So selfish. You are something that occupies the loneliness that will forever haunt him- keeping you alive is all he has left to grasp upon to give him hope for a life beyond this bleak ongoing existence of his.

~✧ He's so selfish when he imagines you waiting at home for him. Selfish when he imagines holding you, gazing upon you adoringly because he's missed you after a long day's work.

~✧ He won't admit these little fantasies of his- his yearnings for a life of his own. He doesn't dare say them out loud- like an unspoken dream that'll fade if ever spoken. A silly whimsy of a naive child who doesn't know any better...

~✧ These little thoughts will stay his. Only he can keep these delusional conjured memories- they're the only ones he can keep.

~✧ So please, take no mind of him. Live freely in the light as he guards you in the shadows. Take your fill of life and death sweetly and peacefully, all under the watchful eye and encompassing cloak of night of none other than vampire hunter D

I'm admittedly not quite sure if I like this or not, I feel a little in the dark with his character due to only watching the two movies (?), and knowing there's novels out there that'll explain his lore and character in much more depth.

If there's anyone who knows more about vampire hunter D, I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas!

[solspina]

Rating primarchs based on how good of a boyfriend they would be

full send no context

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

Horus : 8/10

He’s a nice guy for the most part, very charismatic and though very goal focused he’s also kind and open to those he’s closest to. Outwardly, he’s very straightforward, stern, and absolutely ruthless to his enemies. There’s humanity within him though, and he won’t keep his friendly, loving demeanor away from those who deserve it. Find him at a celebratory event, drunk with Sanguinius, moments in which he’s full of nothing but laughter and love for his brothers and the one who stands beside him. His love language is quality time.

Leman Russ : 4/10 (negotiable)

Though he knows love, it seems to be quite strictly familial. He’s described often as ruthless and barbaric, naive and braggish. If you can put up with things like that, I’m sure he would be a fine boyfriend. Similarly enough though, he’s had many women try to court him all at once, and successfully. I can’t promise his loyalty if someone better looking comes along, as no one ever taught him the importance of that. Outside of the constant, lingering fear of replacement, he can have his caring and understanding moments, occasionally bringing you gifts from crusades and sieges on other planets. Maybe his loyalty to the emperor would apply to his lover too, if you tell him what it means to you. His love language is gift giving.

Ferrus Manus : 7/10

Rage is his fatal flaw if we’re being honest. Not towards you, but towards battle. Toward you I imagine he would be more straightforward and honest, though trustworthy and strong willed to make your relationship work. Loyalty will never ever ever be an issue with him, but it seems like he spends more time with war and battle than he does you. He spends time with you when he can, though, and he truly does care. Points off for his temper. He gave his brothers personalized gifts, and i’m sure he would go through many lengths to do the same for you. His love language is gift giving.

Fulgrim: 6/10

He’s constantly trying to be perfect, and he wants whoever he’s with to be perfect too. A lot of the time, it gets to his head. He can be incredibly ignorant quite often, and isn’t very considerate of your feelings. You’re more of an idol to him, a model. You’re human, so he sees you as perfect, something he and his people should strive to be like. Youre idealized, and under rose tinted lenses, this looks a lot like love… Lots of acts of service and gift giving.

Vulkan : 10/10

The only man you will ever need point blank period. He’s patient, he’s empathetic, he’s kind, he’s humane. He’s incredibly easy to love, and he truly is beloved. The Salamanders love you too, sometimes listening to your commands as if they were his. You’re respected as long as you’re under his arm. He wants to understand the way humans feel, especially understand the reason they wrap their arms around each other and sleep with their bodies entwined at night. His love language is physical touch.

Rogal Dorn : 6/10

He’s incredibly loyal, and also incredibly honest, but his seriousness can get in the way sometimes. You love him, very much, but there are times you get into petty arguments and he has to go consult Horus and Sanguinius for advice on what to do. He’s also very reserved at times, a lot like a single dad who’s just doing his best to keep his job and go about his day. Acts of service would be his love language.

Roboute Guilliman : 9/10

Guilliman is a great boyfriend, a great tactician, a great warrior, all of the above. The only reason i’d take a point off is because I believe he may be a little arrogant at times. He believes that his way is the right way, but he’s usually willing to listen to you and your concerns. He’s incredibly intelligent, very sympathetic and understanding of human trials and concerns, and he’s a lot like we are modern times. I think he would look for comfort in a significant other, and his love language is likely acts of service.

Magnus the Red : 3/10

Another man that I don’t recommend being with. He’s more arrogant than Fulgrim. When I said Guilliman believes his way is the right way, Magnus takes it a step up. He thinks he’s ALWAYS right. He cares, and he means well, but he’s way too much to put up with. Highly manipulative and self absorbed, don’t put yourself in that situation. He values knowledge more than he does you.

Sanguinius : 10/10

Besides the fact he’s a vampire, you’re probably the most safe with him. He genuinely cares for you and your well-being, and sleeping next to him at night with his wing draped over you is an absolute dream in a universe plagued by war. His sons may fall to their bloodthirst when they’re on the home ship, and Sanguinius is fast to wrap himself around his human partner and protect them from any and all harm. You hold him through his sorrow every time a mass of humans or his sons lose their lives, and you watch him kneel to offer you his loyalty and unconditional love rather than you offering it to him. He gives both physical touch and words of affirmation.

Lion El’Jonson : 7/10

Of course he has his moments where he can come off as aloof and paranoid, but that’s for the most part only on the battlefield. Outside, he’s incredibly charming and charismatic, but in a noble way. When his paranoia gets to him after an argument, he seeks out Sanguinius and Horus for advice, wanting nothing more to fix your relationship and solve whatever went wrong. He become more secretive as time goes on, but old habits die hard. I believe he’d offer acts of service.

Perturabo : 6/10

He’s incredibly smart, but finds relating to you and your human tendencies incredibly difficult. His moods can shift and change rapidly and violently, but I believe he means you no true harm. He would never hurt you intentionally, often opting to back away and give himself space, sometimes for days. He never returns to you without a mechanically engineered gift, though, one of his design. Alongside a very gentle hug and a conversation about how you care about him, what he loves. You love him, not for his usefulness to the emperor, but for him. His love language is definitely gift giving.

Mortarion : 8/10

He’s very confused as to why you would choose him. He’s disgusting, an abomination, he hated everything from psykers to his oppressors, what did anything matter if he would be left to the mercy of another oppressor anyways? All thoughts he had until he met you. He was cold and hateful to you at first, untrusting, and yet you showed him kindness. You showed him kindness over and over again. For once, it wasn’t just a one time thing. You’re the only thing in this universe who sees him as more than a warlord, more than the embodiment of death itself, so for you he has a soft spot. He hates the idea of having a human curl up next to him, absorbing his warmth and disease alike… and yet you do. You remind him that his touch is not deadly, and he too is capable of humanity. He will be more considerate of his decisions, because for once, something matters. His love language is physical touch, because he’s been deprived for so long, you’re the only one who allows him that piece of humanity.

Lorgar : 5/10

Does he love you? Does he not? No… He needs you… Maybe he just needs space actually.He loves you, he really does, and by god he tries his best, but when you’re as impulsive and indecisive as he is, it’s hard to know sometimes. If you’re okay with it working 50% of the time, maybe more maybe less, I’m sure you’ll be fine. His love language is… uh… well?

Jaghatai Khan : 7/10

Loyal, decently humble, and a relatively peaceful man. Outside of war, he has potential to be great to you. When war is his focus, however. Expect no attention, he’s a fierce warrior and needs to focus on his allegiance to the emperor, that’s what comes first. You follow very closely after, though! He’s quick to praise you for the things you do well and gently remind you of a better course of action when it comes to the things you don’t do too well. Acts of service enjoyer.

Konrad Curze : 2/10

DO NOT DATE THIS MAN. Konrad is a walking red flag. The self loathing, the anger, the angst, the general belief in humanity as a fallacy. He’s also incredibly violent, and may cause you serious harm if you ever managed to anger him. He’s a primarch, and you’re a human. Don’t you dare piss him off. I don’t know why anyone would realistically want that. Please continue to paint him as mean angry babygirl with a soft spot in your fics though. If you think you can fix him, you can’t. The emperor already tried.

Angron : 4/10

Before his conversion to chaos, Angron would’ve been a great boyfriend if we’re being honest. He was kind, compassionate, encouraging. He loved you when you were enslaved beside him, but once he became a primarch and lost everything, his beloved included, he became one of the most ruthless and cruel people out there until he succumbed to Khorne. He doesn’t remember you. His love language was words of affirmation.

Corvus Corax : 4/10

A very melancholic and depressed primarch. He’s very angsty and honestly a major drag to be around. He and Konrad, i feel like, would be better boyfriends to each other than either of them would be to you. Corvus isn’t as violent as Konrad, but he definitely carries on the hatred, the sorrow, and the bitterness. He’s also very sensitive, so expect to be met with either violence or a breakdown if you try to leave. 2 extra points because you may get to keep your life, his love language is words of affirmation, always followed by self deprecation.

Alpharius Omegon : 7/10

He’s they’re a great boyfriend to be honest, though very secretive, and that raises many questions. You don’t know that there are two of them. It’s a secret, not even one that you’re allowed to know the answer to. Alpharius is obviously the more dominant brother, the one who you think has a soft side. He doesn’t. That’s not him, that’s Omegon. Omegon is much more gentle, quiet, and quite honestly a little more touchy. Why? because you make him feel seen. Alpharius is used to the spotlight, so giving him every ounce of your attention feels like the usual, though he still enjoys it very much. Alpharius expresses love through acts of service and gift giving, while Omegon expresses love through words of affirmation and quality time. They make up for everything the other lacks, as long as you don’t know the massive secret they’re keeping from you…

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 6

WC:1288 Masterpost CW: Self-esteem issues, past abuse, past experimentation, past starvation

“Hey Kid,” Jason said after he knocked on the door. It may have been left open a crack for safety reasons, but Jason still wanted to give the kid as much privacy as they could with all this.

The kid looked up at him from the bed with wide, startled eyes.

Right.

“I’m the one with the helmet.”

“I, yeah, same outfit,” the kid mumbled but didn’t look any less wide eyed.

Jason held back a sigh “Can I come in?”

“Sure, yeah,” the kid said as he forced himself to sit up against the wall with shaky arms.

Jason took the seat that Tim had used and kept a careful distance between them, even as he leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I want you to be honest with me, Kid, because you feeling safe here is the most important thing. I’ve made some soup and I’d like you to eat it and some bread, but if you don’t feel comfortable eating something I made we can do am MRE instead. That way you can know it’s still sealed.”

“No. I mean, no to the MRE. Soup sounds…” the kid had to stop and swallow. “That sounds really good.”

“Okay, Kid,” Jason said with as gentle of a voice as he could manage right then. “It’s only going to be a small portion to start, just to give your body time to adjust, but you keep it down and are still hungry there will be more. Whenever you’re hungry there will be food, I promise, and you don’t have to do anything to earn or deserve it. You can just ask whoever is around. Hell, when you’re well enough to walk around you can get anything you want from the fridge or pantry, okay?”

The kid nodded slowly, but that wide eyed look was back. Jason was going to have to warn the others about making sure that the kid ate and knew that he had free access to the food. They should get some granola bars, chips, and bottled drinks for the kid’s room too, but only once they knew the kid wouldn’t gorge himself.

“And just to check, any allergies or restrictions? I made the soup vegan, just to be safe, but it’s got some corn starch as a thickener.”

The kid shook their head.

“Good. After you eat, if you feel up to it, it would be good for you to take a bath or shower. But if you can’t,” Jason gave a little shrug, “that’s fine too. It can be another time.”

The kid shook his head. “I want to. I mean, if I can, I want to. A shower sounds… really good.”

“Yeah, I bet it does. I’ll go get you that soup and a sports drink. I know it’s going to suck, but we’re going to want to track you staying hydrated so you’ll be drinking lots,” Jason warned to another answering nod. He closed the door most of the way behind him again as he left the bedroom.

“He was awake then?” Dick asked softly when Jason moved to fill up a bowl.

“Yeah. Hey, can you start a log? I want to track what the kid eats and drinks and when,” Jason said.

“What’s the starvation concern?” Dick asked with a little frown as he tapped on the tablet.

“Right now I’m worried about the kid not believe he can eat whenever he’s hungry, so we’ll have to keep asking. But we need to watch for gorging. Lots of small meals often right now.”

Dick nodded. “Okay. I’ll make the log and set a silent alarm for whoever’s with him every hour. Did you talk about moving safe houses?”

Jason shook his head as he place two bowls and a plate of buttered bread on a lap tray. “We’ll let him get fed and through the shower first, maybe even another nap.”

“We don’t want him to get too settled here,” Dick pointed out.

“But we also don’t want to spook him,” Jason countered.

Dick just sighed. “Fucking timing.”

Jason opened his mouth—

“And if you make a dick joke right now I will throw something at you, little wing, I am not kidding.”

Jason help his hands up in surrender for a moment before he picked up the tray and headed back to the bedroom. He knocked with his foot before he pushed the door open.

The kid had fixed the bed while Jason was out of the room. He even straightened up the mess of tools that Tim had left.

It made Jason’s stomach turn over.

“You didn’t have to clean up,” Jason said, hoping to let the kid know he didn’t have do work to stay. “Red leaves a mess wherever he goes.”

The words had the opposite effect and the kid ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Jason soothed. He’d have to mention this to the others too. “It’s nice not to accidentally step on a screw or something, just that you didn’t have to. Can I set the tray on your lap?”

The kid nodded and scrambled to straighten back up. Jason was careful not to touch him as he set the tray down and made sure it was balanced.

“So I divided the veggies up differently. Which bowl do you want?”

The kid’s eyes darted between the two bowls and then up to Jason, as if trying to find the right answer.

“I don’t mind either,” Jason added, casually as he could, and sat on the bed next to the kid. “I can get more if I want it. Hell, I probably will. Spoiler always says I’m a bottomless pit with how I eat.”

Slowly, the kid reached out to scoot the bowl more more potato chunks closer to him. He glanced up at Jason from under the messy white bangs. Jason just smiled and took the other bowl for himself. He blew on a spoonful of soup before starting to eat. A beat latter, the kid did the same.

Jason ate steadily, setting a rhythm for the kid to follow, and the kid was mimicking him. It was almost like the other didn’t even know how to eat any more. For a moment, Jason had to close his eyes and breathe. The Pit Rage wasn’t what it used to be, but there was a still an anger that could burn inside him and when it did, it burned so fiercely hot. Right then, it wanted to burn whoever did this to the kid to ashes. Jason didn’t much want to stop it, but he wouldn’t risk scaring the kid for vengeance.

Not when this was his new little brother.

(He wasn’t going to mess up this time, not again.)

The sound of the spoon scraping softly against the bowl next to him trailed off. Jason kept eating, focused on his own bowl, so not to call note to it. He’d like the kid to eat a little more, but he wouldn’t push it. He’d push so little with this kid, not outside of keeping him safe.

When the barely there weight settled against Jason’s side, he froze.

Slowly he turned his head as little as possible.

The kid was tipped over, head pillowed against Jason’s arm, sound asleep.

Jason reached up with his other hand and tapped his comm twice. Dick was at the door in a flash, silent despite having obviously run. The alert bled out of Dick as he took in the sight and his face split into a grin. Silently laughing, Dick raised the tablet still in his hands and started taking photos.

Jason flicked him off for the next shot.

Damn brothers.

---

AN: Another mostly soft Trauma Tuesday! But my is poor Danny messed up... at least he has his big brothers looking after him! (Even he doesn't know that part yet.)

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe here!

[littlespoonevan]

Princess Diaries 2 au!

not me already cheating askdjfhsa so i actually have the first chapter of this fic written but i never got any further than that so i never posted it. but!!! that means you are in luck bc i can offer you 3.5k almost immediately lmao

i had a lot of fun rereading this though so hopefully this might give me some motivation to keep going with it 🤞✨

-

“You want to do what?”

Buck’s parents regard him with identical disdainful looks. It’d almost be intimidating if he wasn’t on the receiving end of looks like that from both of them at least once a day.

“Evan, this doesn’t concern you,” his mother sighs.

“Like hell it doesn’t!” he exclaims, looking wildly between his parents and his sister. “Aren’t you forgetting what happened the last time you tried to stick Maddie in an arranged marriage-“

“Evan,” Maddie cuts in, voice gentle but firm enough for Buck to deflate. The smile she offers him is resigned. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright,” he protests weakly.

“Maddie understands the responsibilities she has as our daughter,” his father says, the, you don’t, heavily implied.

“Regardless, she’s far too old to be concerning herself with something as trivial as a love match,” his mother scoffs and Maddie’s mouth tightens into a thin line.

His parents love to bring up that Maddie is in her late thirties and still single. As if the whole reason for that isn’t because the last person they set up her up with tried to kill her – a trauma from which she’s obviously still recovering. Buck’s not about to let it happen again, not on his watch.

“Do you understand what a match like this could do for our family?” Margaret continues. Buck’s never understood his parents’ obsession with titles and social climbing. He would’ve figured still being a viscount and viscountess would be enough for anyone when, y’know, no one gives a shit about the monarchy nowadays.

“Besides, lord knows the Diazes would be indebted to us for even agreeing to it,” Philip adds with a derisive snort.

“I’ve heard Prince Edmundo is very pleasant,” Maddie offers, clearly trying to placate Buck and possibly trying to convince herself also. She’s putting on a brave face but Buck knows she’s nervous after Doug. It’s been years but Maddie still jumps at shadows.

Buck rolls his eyes. He may never have met him before but Buck has heard the scandal surrounding Prince Edmundo. He fell in love with a commoner and tried to marry her but his parents refused the match. Then, four years ago, a child was left at the palace gates with a letter addressed to Prince Edmundo. Apparently before they were forced apart Edmundo had gotten her pregnant and she was no longer in a position to take care of the child. Within hours, the whole world knew.

The Diazes had hired an entire new security team after that.

Buck hasn’t heard much since but he does know the potential marriage King Ramon and Queen Helena had been arranging for Edmundo completely fell through with the reveal of the child and he hasn’t publicly dated anyone since.

So now they’re here: a proposed match between Maddie and Edmundo so Edmundo can ascend the throne in the fall like he’s supposed to.

 “I still don’t like it,” Buck mutters.

“How about a compromise?” Maddie suggests then. “We have a trial period.

“I personally have no desire to get married to a stranger – I would, at least, like to know the man’s favourite food or his hobbies – so why don’t we see if Prince Edmundo would be agreeable to my coming to stay at the palace? Six months. A proper courtship. And, if anything untoward happens or I suspect something isn’t right, the union is ended.”

Their parents share a look, conversing only with their eyes and pinched mouths. Eventually their father looks back to them. “If the Diazes agree, then fine. But Maddie, you are running out of time. If Prince Edmundo doesn’t marry you then you can’t protest whoever else we choose. You’ve put it off long enough.”

Buck wants to protest but he knows this isn’t his fight. He’ll get his turn whenever they decide to turn his attention to him. He watches Maddie take a measured breath and is, once again, in awe of his sister’s ability to keep her composure. He can never do that. He always feels too much.

She looks their parents dead in the eye and nods. “I understand.”

“I’ll write to Helena then,” Margaret sighs.

~

“I don’t like it.”

Eddie just about refrains from rolling his eyes. He suspects the hand he has braced against his temple is just about the only thing preventing his parents from seeing the exasperation on his face.

“It sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” Eddie says and his mother clucks her tongue.

“Of course it does, Eddie. You’re just looking for a way to get out of this.”

“No, I’m not,” he exhales. He’s long since given up on trying to get out of this marriage. Any hope he had of marrying for love ended when his parents forced him to kick Shannon to the curb. Christopher arriving on his doorstep a few years ago left that hope buried six feet beneath the ground.

Truthfully, he doesn’t care anymore. His priority is Christopher now. He doesn’t need romantic love; all he needs is a political match with someone who will, at best, be decent to his son or, at worst, ignore Eddie and Christopher except for public appearances.  

He understands Maddie’s reticence though.

“Maddie’s last fiancé tried to murder her, Mother,” Eddie points out. “She doesn’t know me. Of course she’d be hesitant to marry immediately.”

“Philip and Margaret never mentioned this when we were making the arrangements though,” his father cuts in and Eddie does roll his eyes this time.

“They probably hadn’t told her yet,” he says. “Really, I don’t mind.” If anything, six months in which his parents fixate on someone else besides him sounds like a dream come true.

His parents whisper to each other but Eddie doesn’t bother trying to listen in. Instead he glances out the window to where Chimney is training in their new security hire, Ravi. The kid looks fresh out of high school and like he spooks way too easily but Eddie still wishes he was out there with them. Or in the playroom with Carla and Christopher.

Or anywhere that isn’t here.

“Fine,” Helena says, snapping him back into reality. “We’ll allow it. But you are to be on your best behaviour, Eddie. Do you understand how difficult it was for us to find you a match after your indiscretions-“

“You mean my son?”

His mother huffs. “You know we love Christopher. But people talk and you must admit your actions with that woman were completely reckless. Just like always.”

Eddie ducks his head, fists clenching in frustration. “Mom, it’s been nearly ten years since I last even saw Shannon. I was a kid. I was stupid. But I’m not going to apologise for it. Not when it gave me my son.”

“Don’t speak to your mother like that,” Ramon commands but then he folds, just slightly, and rubs at his forehead. “This is a good thing, Edmundo. It’s almost time for you to ascend the throne. It is your turn to honour this family; try to see that.”

Eddie doesn’t think there’s a single word in the English language he hates more than honour. Rolling his shoulders, he lowers his gaze and nods in acquiescence.

~

Eddie spends the rest of the day preparing for the Buckleys’ arrival with Hen, taking the chance to duck away to his room when she gets a phone call. She scowls at him and flaps her hand in a gesture that clearly indicates she doesn’t want him to go anywhere but he pretends not to understand and gets out of reach before she can grab him.

She’s confirmed Maddie’s brother, Evan, will be coming with her as well as Maddie’s personal security guard, Athena Grant. Eddie wasn’t aware the children of viscounts needed their own security detail but he guesses for Maddie it might be an extra precaution.

He’s heard the story, of course. How she and her previous husband had beaten the odds. Arranged marriages were common in their world but one that was also a love match was all but unheard of for people like them.

But Maddie and her fiancé, Doug, had seemed like the real thing. Their lavish wedding had been the talk of royal enthusiasts everywhere – the only people who actually pay attention to high society weddings. Then, a little over a year ago, Maddie was brutally attacked and almost killed.

Her husband had been the culprit.

And if Eddie’s sources are to be believed, Doug had been beating her the entire time they were together. Honestly, Eddie’s surprised she even agreed to the match. Though, if her parents are anything like his own, he doubts she had any say in the matter.

It makes him feel only the tiniest bit better about his own situation.

Losing Shannon is a pain that still aches deep inside of him but at least he’d loved her and she’d loved him back. And if nothing else, she’d given him Christopher, the most precious gift of Eddie’s life.

With him and Maddie…well. He doesn’t think they’ll fall in love but maybe they can be friends. After all, isn’t that what marriage is? Companionship? Eddie’s had love now; he knows what it felt like. Once is more than enough for him. He can be grateful for that – it’s more than most people get in his line of work.

A knock at his open door rouses him from his reverie and he looks up to find his abuela standing at the threshold, a mischievous sort of smile on her face.

“Abuela,” he says warmly.

“I hear we have visitors coming?” she says, crossing into his room and coming to rest at the chaise longue near his writing desk.

“I’m pretty sure Mom’s arranging a car as we speak,” he says, flashing a fake smile.

Abuela hums, regarding him with an appraising look as if she’s trying to read everything he’s not saying in the set of his shoulders or the slant of his eyebrows. She’s always been far too perceptive when it comes to him.

“How are you really feeling, Eddito?” she asks. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Eddie hangs his head, letting out a weary sigh, before coming to sit beside her. “Do I have much of a choice?”

“You always have a choice,” she tuts. “Don’t let your parents make you think you don’t.”

“I always knew what my life would be. This isn’t some cruel twist of fate handed down by the universe. It’s my duty – to my family, to this kingdom.”

“And what about your duty to yourself?” she asks quietly and Eddie looks away.

He takes a moment to rally himself before he can manage to smile at her again. “I’ve gotten everything I want from life already. Christopher is enough. I don’t need anything else.”

Abuela watches him with something that could be pity on anyone else. From her, it’s just an overwhelming sense of empathy and love. She reaches out to pat his cheek and Eddie marvels – as he always does – at the way the casual affection he shares with her and his aunt never comes as easily with his parents.

“Protect yourself, Eddie,” she murmurs, a quiet request. “Please. For me. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He swallows, emotion he doesn’t expect clogging his throat. “You had an arranged marriage. So did Mom and Dad. I’ll be fine,” he promises, lifting a hand to cover Abuela’s with his own where it still rests on his cheek.

“I know,” she says, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “And I was very happy with your abuelo. But you, mi ángel, have always dreamed of love. I want that for you.”

Tears burn behind his eyes but he blinks them away and forces a bright smile onto his face.

“I’m sure the Maddie will be a perfectly good match.”

It sounds like a lie even to himself.

~

Buck yanks at his tie for the sixth time since they got out of the car and Maddie slaps his hand away.

“Relax,” she mutters. “I feel like you’re more nervous than I am.”

He lets his hand drop with a sigh, shooting Athena a winning grin when she casts them both a sidelong glance. She rolls her eyes before turning back to talking to the Diaz chief of staff, Bobby Nash, as they make their way up the steps of the palace. Henrietta Wilson, who is Bobby’s second in command and evidently personally responsible for Prince Edmundo, keeps pace with him and Maddie.

“How are you feeling?” he asks under his breath and Maddie gives him an exasperated smile.

“I’m fine,” she insists, reaching out to latch onto his pinkie finger with her own and giving it a quick squeeze. “You don’t need to worry.”

“I can’t help it,” he mutters.

Up until now Buck has been able to pretend this is all some farcical plan or- or a vacation for him and Maddie! But now they’re here and they’re about to have a formal introduction with the royal family and it suddenly feels real. Maddie’s getting married. Courtship or not, that’s the end goal in all this and she’s not going to be able to say no unless Buck can find a legitimate reason why.

And maybe it’s not Prince Edmundo’s fault and maybe he’s just as helpless in all of this as Maddie is but Buck’s still ready to hate him on sight.

This whole thing feels wrong, out of place. Maddie shouldn’t have to get married again if she doesn’t want to. And she sure as hell shouldn’t have to marry someone just to satisfy their parents’ need for social climbing. It’s not fair. She’s been through enough and he can’t believe their parents are willing to put her through another potential trauma by forcing her into an arranged marriage.

Well, not if Buck has anything to say about it.

He’s older now than he was when she and Doug first met and he’s determined to do whatever it takes to protect her. He even convinced his parents to let him be Maddie and Prince Edmundo’s chaperone during their courtship. (Not in an official capacity but still.)

It’s not much but if it lets him keep Maddie’s safe, it’s worth it.

They reach the main entryway and Buck grinds to an abrupt halt, just stopping short of barrelling straight into Athena. She gives him a look like she knows that’s exactly what he was about to do and he ducks his head, chagrined.

Henrietta clears her throat, clearly attempting to bite back a smirk when Buck looks up at her. “Ready?”

She’s talking to Maddie but Buck still has to tamp down on the urge to say no.

“Of course,” Maddie breathes and the doors open.

One of the other staff members introduces them. Buck hears it just as they step inside.

“Presenting the honourable Madeleine Buckley and her brother, Evan Buckley.”

The royal family are waiting by the staircase for them, their expressions ranging from eager to cordial.

And well. Prince Edmundo is exceedingly handsome, he’ll give him that.

He’s tall, though not quite as tall as Buck, dressed in formal attire with his hair swept back off his face in a way that looks seemingly effortless – unlike the fifteen minutes Buck spends in front of the mirror in the morning trying to make his curls sit just right. His tanned skin and big brown eyes, coupled with the affable smile make him seem…

Charming. He is, quite frankly, the fairy-tale definition of a Prince Charming and Buck feels himself seethe with something that’s not quite jealousy but maybe somewhere adjacent to that.

Prince Edmundo steps forward and, for the first time, Buck notices the little boy behind him. That must be his son, Christopher. He’s got crutches under his arms to keep him steady and one of the Diaz’s staff stands beside him – a kindly looking woman that keeps her hand protectively on his shoulder.

“Miss Buckley,” Prince Edmundo greets, stepping forward to take Maddie’s hand. He presses a faint kiss to the back of it and Buck bites the inside of his cheek so hard he’s pretty sure he draws blood. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

“And you as well, your highness,” Maddie replies, offering up a curtsy and a careful smile. And if nothing else, Buck will admit the smile Prince Edmundo offers in response seems more sincere than Doug’s ever was.

He turns to Buck then, extending a hand to shake.

“Your highness,” Buck greets before Prince Edmundo gets a chance to, giving his hand a too-tight shake and finishing it off with a half-assed smile.

Prince Edmundo raises an eyebrow but decorum wins out above anything else. “Mr Buckley,” he returns, his own hand tightening for a moment around Buck’s. If Buck didn’t know any better he’d almost think he was amused.

Queen Helena interrupts then, gliding forward to take Maddie’s hand. “Madeleine. It’s so lovely to finally meet you.”

Maddie bows again, greeting the queen with a, “Your majesty,” that betrays none of the unease she might be feeling. One thing’s for sure, their parents trained her well.

“Welcome to our home,” King Ramon adds, coming to stand beside his wife and offering Maddie a greeting of his own.

They greet Buck and Athena next, completely pleasant and completely perfunctory. Their focus is on Maddie and that’s abundantly clear. Well, that’s fine with Buck. It’ll make it a hell of a lot easier for him to poke holes in this whole match if no one’s paying attention to him.

“We hope your journey was pleasant?” Helena says, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“It was very comfortable,” Maddie assures. “It was so generous of you to send a car.”

“It was our pleasure,” Helena says then and she looks like she means it. “Well, we’d love to stay and chat a bit more but I’m afraid the king and I have a very important meeting we must attend to.”

“The work never stops,” Ramon jokes. “Eddie will show you to your living quarters and we’ll see you at dinner tonight.”

With that, they take their leave and Buck lets out the breath he’s been holding this entire time.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Prince Edmundo does the same. But then he turns to them with a beatific smile and gestures to the staircase.

“You must be tired after your journey. I can show you to your rooms and give you some time to get settled?”

The car ride had only been a couple of hours but Buck’s not gonna complain. Standing on ceremony is exhausting.

“Thank you, Prince Edmundo,” Maddie says because Buck might’ve used up all his manners by now but she clearly hasn’t. “That’s very kind of you.”

For the first time, there’s something almost awkward in the prince’s demeanour. Buck doesn’t understand what it is until he says, “Please, call me Eddie. I don’t see any reason why we should have to stick to formalities if we’re going to be getting to know each other as we are over the next few months.”

Maddie’s shoulders drop where she stands beside him and Buck is begrudgingly impressed Prince Edmundo – Eddie – has managed to put his sister at ease.

“In that case, please call me Maddie,” she says. “I don’t need any titles. And Evan-“

“Goes by Buck,” he cuts in, flashing Eddie a closed-lip smile.

“Buck,” Eddie repeats, as if testing the name out.

Buck hates that he actually likes how it sounds coming from him.

“I’ll remember that,” Eddie says before glancing over his shoulder. “And um, if we’re still making introductions, I’d like you to meet our chaperone.”

He steps aside and Buck watches as the little boy takes three tentative steps forward to stand at his father’s side. Eddie immediately crouches down to his level once he does, wrapping a comforting arm around him and Buck hates his own traitorous heart for melting a little at the sight. “This is my son, Christopher.”

“Hi, Christopher,” Maddie says, voice warm and welcoming, as she holds out a hand for him to shake. She always was amazing with kids. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Christopher takes her hand after a moment’s hesitation and stutters out a soft, “Miss Buckley,” that has Buck biting his lip so he can maintain his composure.

Why did Eddie have to have such a cute kid?

“You don’t have to call me that,” Maddie says with a chuckle. “You can just call me Maddie if you like.”

Christopher nods and lets go of her hand and then Maddie is reaching back for Buck. “This is my brother, Evan.”

Buck huffs at his given name but obediently steps forward, crouching down in the same manner Eddie had to get on Christopher’s level.

“My friends call me Buck,” he tells Christopher with a wink, offering him a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Christopher.”

“Nice to meet you too, Buck,” Christopher says with a bashful smile as he fits his tiny hand in Buck’s to shake it.

Eddie clears his throat and there’s something inscrutable in his expression when Buck looks at him. “How about we show you to your room?”

~

[brittle-doughie]

Going to outright admit it, this is my first time doing a request, but here goes:

This request is based on an April fools event in a game called Nikke: Goddess of Victory.

https://youtu.be/l1pWg-ujU-o?si=GKV12WISdeGSsluR

The above link may seem 18+, it’s not lol, it’s April fools and thus it’s simply chaos happening due to a harem of jealous women. (Although yanderes DO butter my toast very nicely.)

Basically my request goes:

Y/n pranking legendaries by sending letters to said legendary figures. Beasts, ancients, dragons, you can add whoever you want, just pls add Elder Farrie I am STARVING for content of this faerie fella, Y/N is terrified by the sheer amount of powerful cookies busting through their door, ceiling, etc etc, but also goes “welp, I’ve come this far, if I die, I’ll die with a bang” and pranks the godlike cookies because ✨CHAOS✨

Apologies if I seem too formal, too vague or just plain weird by the layout or wording of this request, it’s my first time and due to a change of events in my life, I’m currently very giddy and wish for chaotic joy by sending a request to my favorite reader x cookie run writer, thank you brittle!

I saw you mentioned two characters specifically, so I’ll focus on them.

Elder Faerie would’ve shook his head at your attempt of a prank. You know how risky it is to send a message like that to the entire Legend Chat, cookies with not so pure intentions could’ve gotten to you first and had done unspeakable things.

You were lucky he was quick to prepare his attire and weapon as well as making it here on time. If you had simply wanted some time with someone, you should’ve just brought the matter to him only and he would’ve came over.

Why he was in the Legend Chat when he’s a Super Epic was beyond you.

Xylitol Nova Cookie would show similar concerns when it came to just messaging something that outrageous in the board. Having to be alone with cookies Like Timekeeper or even one of the dragons would’ve been bad, you’d have to be decontaminated from head to toe!

It just so happens that he had been working on a security system that will ensure that nothing short of a Beast will be able to break through the made defenses. Of course, he’d have the clearance to enter the room unopposed if you ever messaged seriously about being lonely again.

[shirefantasies]

Hey! Recently finished LotR for the first time and just wanted to thank you for sharing so much amazing writing with the fandom!

I was wondering, after reading the how many children they’d like hcs, if you’d be comfortable writing some characters(personally requesting Legolas and Eowyn, but whoever you’d wish of course!) meeting their(/them and their partner’s if they already have children ofc) firstborn!

Either way! Tysm for reading and have an amazing day!!

Forgot I had one more finished draft lmao sorry everyone🤙🏻 here's one more post

Bro OF COURSE I love doing parent AU stuff!!! This is such a cute imagine omg. Also thanks for the kind words & welcome to the fandom 🥰 consider this part 2 of the pregnancy headcanons~

Warnings: some descriptions/mentions of childbirth/labor pain/blood (not too graphic though!)

LoTR Characters Meeting Your First Child Together (Wife!Reader)

Aragorn

Concern paints your husband's handsome features, furrowing his dark brow and glittering deeply in his blue eyes at your sudden, frantic motions. You are too quiet, too focused. Hiding something, perhaps? "What troubles you?" Aragorn asks, moving to your side, a hand caressing your shoulder as he breathes your name. Eyes widening, you start for a moment before deflating in a sigh. "I think the baby is coming. But I did not wish to worry you until I was certain, until I had more prepared and-" Saying your name, this time a little more firmly and a lot more lovingly, Aragorn takes your hand. "Worry me? Cast all your worries upon me. I am your husband. My heart is yours, and my service. Come, we will go to the healing halls at once."

~

Aragorn smooths your hair, wincing as you cry out and calmly whispering encouragement. He quiets you down as the pain and stress wash over you in nearly blinding waves, your body writhing with each push. Hours pass like this, Aragorn your one anchor until finally, blessedly, your body can fall limp against your sickbed and pant and sigh in relief, the babe proclaimed healthy and taken to be soothed and cleaned. "What a marvel. Truly you prove strength beyond measure every day. Beyond that, I simply love you more every day," he adds with a smile. Leaning up to kiss him, you fix your husband with tired eyes, loving gaze broken only by the midwives' calls. "My king," they say, "a son was born to you! The prince of Gondor!" "A son," you repeat, finally breaking back into a grin as you accept your little boy. Aragorn looks down upon him too with as wide a smile, greeting him in Elvish. "My son," he says, "how loved you are, and how blessed are we your parents. May you grow strong, healthy, happy, our little gift."

Legolas

Even as far as you had gotten, an unspoken fear had crept up between you and your husband until the very day of your labor, but your twins held fast. Such a thought echoed through your mind as much as you could bear to will it between the waves of pain. They held fast, and so would you, your husband at your side stroking your head and holding your hand, whispering calming words in the language of his people. Through tears, you smiled at the beautiful sound, at Legolas's constant reminders that you are strong, you are the most amazing gift the prince has born witness to in hundreds of years. He reminded you to look into his eyes as you were urged to push harder, your hips burning like never before...

~

"A son. A son and a daughter,” Legolas breathed, pulling you and both your twins into a gentle embrace. “And my wife. What more could I desire? Nothing. Nothing indeed.” You feel moisture, realize a tear has slid from Legolas’s eye to your hand, and reaching up you dry his eye before bringing your hand down to stroke the side of his face. You can feel the bags of exhaustion circling your eyes and your whole body aches, but all you can do is smile, smile until your face is just as sore; with your aching pleasure glowing throughout you nuzzle the babe in your arms, your son. “Our dreams are finally reality, Legolas. I would ask for no more either.”

Boromir

"What for it? What can I do?" Boromir is less calm than you expected at your sudden pain, the downward rush you can only assume is the baby coming. Not that you have told him that already. "Let us go to the healers." You try to steady your breathing, praying your water will hold out and break only upon entry to the home of the dear friend you'd selected to aid in your birth. Grateful are you for the grasp of your husband’s hand and the strength with which his arm raises you, tugging you against him for support, even if you feel his heart racing like mad when your hand falls against his chest.

~

For hours you toiled, your body rent and torn in creative horror as Boromir tried his best with jokes and sweet words to keep your wits about you… for far shorter hours than usual in your friend’s words. “I find that hard to believe,” you panted as she cleaned the child. “No, truly that was quite amazing,” your friend shot back, stepping back your way with a bundle in her hands, “We’ve had them take twenty hours before. Five is quite fast I daresay.” Every orifice in your body cried out with pain, so all you could do was incline your head until you raised it again, saw the child in her outstretched arms and felt your lips part in amazement. Eyes still closed, your child groped for you, stilling a bit in satisfaction upon your acceptance, feeling the weight fall and rest gently upon your chest. “Impatient little man and with some fire too! He fought against cleaning quite well.” “Little man?” Boromir’s head snapped so rapidly up to your friend and back to your baby you thought he might snap something. “We have a son?” “Indeed you do, you old dog, you,” she grinned. “It’s a boy!” He shouted gleefully, one hand resting firmly between your son’s and the other cupping your cheek and yanking your lips to smash against his. When Boromir pulled away, he laughed aloud, hearty and triumphant. “Bless him and bless you for giving him to me! I never knew I could be this happy, love!” Your smile widened to match his grin. Suddenly your pain didn’t seem quite so bad.

Gimli

“Push! Push!” “Am I not?!” You reply, uncaring of the raise of your voice or the vice of your hand about your husband’s. For his part and quite in spite of himself, Gimli must laugh, for such was the fire that stole his heart some time ago and the fire from which your newest love was forged- though not without some trouble first. Chip off the ol’ block, indeed! “That’s it, that’s it,” the healer encouraged, “yer doin’ great, lassie!” “Doesn’t feel like it!” Even as he winces in pain by your iron grip, Gimli chuckles again.

~

“A healthy little lad!” Six more hours have passed, but finally he’s in hand and you won’t give him up for anything. Except Gimli- he is the only one to survive your death glares when he reaches for your son, and pushing some hair off his shoulder he gently extends his arms further when you acquiesce. His lips part in an o of endearment and shock at your son, crying moments ago but now laying peacefully in his father's arms. Breaking into a wide smile, Gimli stares down with moist eyes and it is like time is frozen. “My son,” he half-declares, half-sobs. His gaze tears from the babe after a minute or two only to meet yours and bring a wide, triumphant smile to his face. "And most importantly, son of the fairest this earth has yet set forth, she who gave herself that he should be here. You did wonderful, my love. Thank you." "Thank you for being his father," you reply, "and for loving me through it all, even when I was quite ugly about it." "Ah..." Gimli replies diplomatically, "you were in a great deal of pain." Of course he forgives you, he worships the ground you walk on, after all, and you have just gifted him the honor of a son, a little flame all his own! And who, the dwarf suspects with another smile, shall look a lot like his father too!

Frodo

Frodo walked you all the way to the bed and laid you down by himself before he would finally relinquish any care of you to the midwife, despite the fact that he had selected her. You knew it was borne of no distrust of her, however, only a sign of the immense care in his heart he felt for you and the sum of all the kindnesses done upon Frodo in his most difficult years. When you love someone, after all, you carry them up a mountain. You lay them down and take their hand and kiss their forehead, telling them you will never leave them in their greatest pain. Just as your husband now did, just as he spoke upon cradling you close, grip only tightening as you cried out in pain.

~

"You're doing so well," Frodo encouraged during your last pushes, stroking your sweat-beaded forehead, "This is almost over." Indeed it was, for minutes later your final whimper broke Frodo's heart, sending spikes of dread shooting down his spine until a new set of cries stopped them cold. "She's here," the midwife tells you, standing up and fetching the cloths she'd dunked earlier. "A girl," Frodo breathes, "A little girl!" "Our little girl," you agree, reaching out to accept the tiny babe. Frodo's heart melts at her now-calmed face, the way her tiny eyelids flutter and the spray of tiny dark curls already visible on her head. "Hello there," he whispers, "my beautiful little girl. Never did I think my heart could give any more, and yet here it is, doubly taken."

Sam

"What's wrong? You look a little peaky. Here, why don't we-" "Sam, I'm fine. I just think I twisted my- hngh!" Crumpling in half with a grunt of pain you cannot even complete your sentence. Sam is rushing to your side, taking your hand and leading you back to your shared bedroom. "Shh, shh, it's going to be ok, you'll see. I'll get the midwife and she'll know everything to do, alright?" Sam's green eyes are warm as ever, his tone the sweetest and most soothing thing you've ever heard and ever will. Despite the waves of pain and the gush you begin to feel soaking the sheets around you, you find yourself nodding and willing up a faint smile.

~

"You're a strong lass, aren't you?" The midwife remarks as Sam returns to the room with more boiled water, looking at you with wonder in her pale blue eyes. Panting, you manage to reply that you suppose so with a faint smile of amusement before being wracked with the pain of another contraction. The only thing that keeps you going is the way your husband is there, leaving only to help you both before tumbling back against the bedframe to grip your hand, never once losing his smile even as you crushed the life out of him. It feels like a lifetime and yet no time before cries fill the room, your head immediately whipping to Sam's and meeting the tears spiling from his kind, loving eyes. "You did it," he whispers your name with awe, kissing your head, then your cheeks sweetly and softly again and again until the midwife is ready with your bundle of joy. "She's beautiful," the older hobbit comments, handing your baby off to you and beaming as you pull your daughter into your chest, loosening her swaddle enough to see her peaceful face. "Lovely," Sam replies, tone even more awed now despite its faint sob, "she looks like her mother. Her mother who worked so hard. Look, she has your hair." "She sure does," you agree, "but I hope she got your eyes." "Nah," he shook his head, "that can be the next one. I love that she's the spitting image. You've earned it after all that, I fear." You laugh at that, still smiling down at your daughter's face, which is still red and calming from her cries of alarm. "That I have. But the only reason I could at all was because of you, Sam." Tears falling anew, he shakes his head one more time. "The thanks are all yours. I knew you could do it all along. It's 'cause of you we have our little beauty."

Merry

"Come on, come on, that's it," Merry coaxed, lowering you down into the squatting position you'd asked for. Inside he was screaming bloody murder, but it was no good letting you know that, not when he had a duty to do and the most important one at that. No indeed, courage was far beyond necessary. Just as he'd had on the battlefield, he was to have with you. For you. Merry only could thank his lucky stars that you began your labor at home while he was there. Once you'd gotten settled, he reluctantly began to pull away his hand from yours, face falling at the way your fingers trembled. "I'm just going to get help. I'll come right back for you." "I know," you whispered with a smile, and just as it had been broken Merry's heart was up and skipping beats.

~

What a good sport the midwife was, for she had been in the middle of her afternoon tea when Merry found her, but never had he seen a napkin thrown down so fast. She rushed with him back to you and found you there still squatting and wincing, this time with sweat beading upon your brow. For hours there you remained, flanked on both sides by husband and midwife, until suddenly your skirts were lifted even further and the lady was calling "He's out!" You cried out in pain and relief and Merry just laughed and gave a big smile before remembering you, looking down at you with great concern. At that, you gave a chuckle of your own. "Sounds like we have a son, Merry." "We have a-" "Certainly you do and quite a big one! Here, you can hold him if you like, but not after the missus has a turn," the midwife cut in, laying your son in your arms. Merry's jaw positively dropped at the sight of him, and he leaned down to speak at once. "Hello there, little one. It's me, your dad. You remember the sound of my voice, don't you?"

Pippin

“Pippin, it’s time.” “Time? Time for what?” You loved your sweet, wonderful, clueless husband, but now was simply not the time. “The baby is coming! Get my supplies, please.” Your command came out as more of a whimper, your face twisting into a grimace at the feeling of moisture trickling down your leg. Water’s broken, then. Pippin caught sight of this, paled, and tore off down the hall, a crash sounding and a handful of stomps before he emerged again, bag slung over his shoulder and a pile of rags in one hand. "You know, for your..." "Yes, I know," you nodded, smiling in faint amusement as he took hold of your arm, barely giving you any time to straddle the rags at all.

~

"Push!" "What am I doing, then?" Your reply shattered Pippin, for it dripped with no sarcasm, only broken tears as you struggled with the pains of labor. The midwife shed a tear of her own, promising you did well, but this went on for hours until suddenly, finally, cries pierced the room's tense air and a massive smile spread across Pippin's face. "You did it!" A loud, triumphant laugh. "You did it, my love!" "She sure did," the midwife agreed, handing the babe off to another older hobbit and chuckling at the way Pippin's open hands followed them. "Don't worry your head off, he's just getting cleaned up." "He? It's a boy! Love, it's a-" "I heard," you grinned, "A little mini-Pippin. Just what I always wanted." "Are- are you joking?" "No," you shook your head, accepting your son with open, grabbing hands, "Not at all. Oh, look, he really does look just like you, too! Oh, Pippin!" Another little Pippin. This time hopefully not one who'll make the same mistakes. No. No, he won't, because he'll have the big one to guide him. And you, oh, his lovely wife... "Pip, are you crying?" "Of course I am," he replied in a quiet, awe-filled voice, leaning to press his curly head to yours, "Our son. Yours and mine. What a glorious gift you've given me. I'm going to work every day to pay you back."

Faramir

Faramir would have given anything to escape the meeting he had become entrenched in, the droning on about some law or another that- Slam! A messenger came bursting in through the door, one of the young page boys whom Faramir had sent notes off with. Rather than pass a message, though, the young man strode right over to his seat and leaned in to whisper to him. Feeling his face contort in shock, then a smile, Faramir rose from the chair at once. “My apologies, gentleman, but my wife has gone into labor. I will review all notes taken at my earliest convenience.” So it seemed the twins inherited their mother’s sense of humor.

~

Watching you strain and hearing your ragged breaths, listening to every cry of pain, stabbed Faramir in the heart with a hurt of his own. He never let go of your hand for a moment, though, despite the ache in those muscles as well. For hours he whispered you words of encouragement, reminding you that you were his hero and that you were doing great, even if it didn’t feel such. And finally your grip was tightening one final time, one final cry of pain as the second twin was born. First your daughter had come. “A girl!” Faramir breathed. “We have a daughter.” And with that last push Faramir himself caught your son. “A son as well. Two beautiful children.” Tears welled up in his eyes, which quickly turned to you as your son was cut free, lifted from his arms, and cleaned. Thumb stroking over the back of your hand, Faramir leaned over, head resting against yours. His stubble tickled your face as he shifted to press a kiss to your cheek. “We got the most difficult one out of our way first, hm?” You joked. Breaking into a tearful grin at your words, Faramir nodded.

Eomer

He should never have agreed to ride out on that patrol, but the others were pushing harder than usual and Eomer knew they trusted him. Trust went far in the Riddermark. Hence his shouts of frustration upon returning to a herald rushing his way and telling him that you had gone into labor. Luckily only about an hour and a half back. He had plenty of time. Running to the halls of healing and all but throwing open the great doors, Eomer barreled in and was met with your smile, then your cry for him, to which he ran to your side and took your hand at once.

~

"It's a boy," he panted hours later, hand aching from your grip and mind fatigued by pained screams, "our son is here." How in this world could you have endured it all if it drained even a bystander so? What a warrior you were. And what a warrior your son would be! Taking in the cleaned babe being placed in your arms, the enamored smile upon his beloved wife's face, the great rush of joy finally overtook him, all pain and exhaustion melting away for a brief moment. "Our son is here!" He called out again, this time louder, more triumphant, and when you spoke it also in your softer tone Eomer pulled you gently by the back of your head into a kiss that spoke volumes, every year of your love story thus far and all of them to come.

Eowyn

The pains of birth were no stranger to your wife; in fact, Eowyn recognized them before you did, cutting into your panic that something was going wrong with the reassurance that things were going quite right. “Our baby is coming,” she told you with a small smile that quickly faded back down when your knees buckled. She was prepared for this, very prepared. Having been forced into work as a nurse for so long had some benefits, after all, and very quickly your things were in hand, your body settled into the most comfortable position possible, and your wife rolling up her sleeves and pulling back her hair to get to work. Her own child would not be the first she had delivered, simply her favorite by far. Spikes of pressure fought their way up Eowyn’s chest, but just like in the heat of battle they spurred her on and she got to work with renewed courage.

~

“You are doing so well, my love, there we are,” your wife coaxed, “almost done, in fact! Our little one is almost here!” “Really?” You smile widely before your next wince and Eowyn can see her words have encouraged you. You pushed with all you had, and crying out finally forced the head, then finally the whole of your child, out into the world. Eowyn cut the baby free quickly as she could, all her focus tied down to making sure she heard breath before she let herself truly look. At the first call of little lungs she sighed and collapsed down upon her knees, hugging the baby to her chest. “Healthy, perfectly healthy.” Hurriedly cleaning your child, Eowyn saw that you had delivered a girl. “You’ve birthed a healthy girl. We have a daughter, my love!” Hearing you sob, she hurried quickly over to your side. “We both did,” you told her, reaching out to caress your daughter’s reddened cheeks, “Both her mothers birthed her. Where would I be, after all, without you?” It was Eowyn’s turn for tears to fall at your words, smiling as she was when you pulled her close and kissed the crown of her golden head.

Haldir

Long, difficult months had led to the moment of your doubling over with the first pains of birth, hobbling out to where you could find a hand to lead you to the midwives. You were half-knelt at the side of a bed, gripping its post for dear life, when your husband burst in. “Your patrol,” you inquired between waves of pain. “Safely in the hands of another,” Haldir responded, hand groping for one of yours, hastily taking it, “and no, they blame neither of us. Nothing but the pain of death could have separated me from your side.” A smile crossed your face, but moments later another wave of pain split your smile into a cry of agony. “The little ones are coming very rapidly,” one of the midwives told you, “your labor will not be long, at the very least.” At that, you heard Haldir exhale in relief. After such difficultly carrying them, your struggles with the twins would soon abate. Soon they would be in your arms.

~

True to her word, the midwife saw you through every push of labor in just under three hours’ time, one of the fastest she had seen in her many years. Haldir’s grip upon your hand never faltered until the very moment one of the twins was placed wrapped up in his arms. The other held by you, exhausted, shocked, but joyous, tears of relief and celebration flowing. “Two daughters. Two fair and healthy little souls all our own,” Haldir remarked, his voice barely above a whisper and a stunned smile upon his lips as he glanced back your way. The moment your eyes met, tears fell from his, too, and you both let out another exhale in relief; shifting the little one in his arms, Haldir grasped your hand. Smiling up at your husband, despite every strain of pain and exhaustion upon your body, all you could feel was the glow of utter triumph and bliss. “I have said it countless times, I am sure, but you my fair maids have my sword, my word, my heart, my everything,” Haldir told you, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your head, then that of the baby girl in your arms.

Galadriel

How Galadriel managed to remain so calm amidst your heaving breaths and calls of alarm, amidst a healer and midwives forgetting their place and trying to move her from your side, surrounded by bodies and screams and heat and fluid so serene, you would never understand. The way you’d doubled over in the middle of your wife’s vision, failing to smother the choked cry that escaped your lips, and she’d simply risen from the water with wide eyes and a nod, taking your hand. Had she let go? Not as you could recall, though memories blended and faded through great waving curtains of pain. Your strength is beyond admirable, my love. Head swiveling to meet your wife’s intense blue gaze, you smiled faintly. Comparable only to your beauty, her voice teased in your mind. Smile growing, the rush of joy gave you strength for another push…

~

“A daughter,” Galadriel breathes your name, joy permeating every faint crack of her so even voice, “you have borne us a daughter!” You see her extend a hand, accept a cloth you assume shall dry your little one off, but the midwife swipes your newborn for a moment and your wife dabs your tears, then the sweat clinging to your forehead. Setting the small piece of white fabric on the table by your head, Galadriel lets her hand drop down to trace the curve of your cheek, the ring you placed upon her finger some years back on your wedding day sliding over it with a pleasant cool. Your daughter, clean and swaddled, is placed in your arms, and beaming down upon you, your wife takes your hand. “A beautiful gift unlike any this world has seen,” she speaks out loud this time, though it is a whisper, “and surely with a heart as strong as her mother’s.”

Arwen

Pain rushed to you so rapidly it was as though you were stabbed. Crumpling and crying out was how your wife found you, rushing in with skirts held at her sides and dropped just as quickly so Arwen’s hands could close around both of yours, words of worry followed by encouragement whispered between you. Her father was the greatest healer you knew, thus he was to aid in his grandchild’s birth, the first of his family. Elrond was calm when through the veil of your pain you saw your wife bring him into the room, brows faintly furrowed as he pulled back his sleeves. Your hearing practically faded- or was it simply your memory?- as he began giving quiet but firm commands to another elf that followed.

~

Vision blurred with tears, you fell back against the downy pillow, breathing ragged. Much as Lord Elrond could do for you, the pain was still great. "The cord is severed!" You heard him announce and your head snapped back up to see your son in his grandfather's arms, hear him wail as breath filled his lungs. "Our little boy," Arwen grips your arm, grinning down at you, "He is here! Go on, Ada, keep us waiting no longer." Shaking his head at her teasing, Elrond gave you a wide, tearful smile as he lowered your son. Smoothing his dark hair, Arwen gazed down at him with loving eyes before leaning over to you, kissing your lips with such love and joy both of you were smiling into it. "My dearest love, he is so beautiful. Just like his mother."

Elrond

"My lord, your wife-" Lindir needn't say more. Elrond is already gathering up his robes and abandoning entirely the parapet on which he stood, regretting leaving you for a moment even if you had insisted he take some time while you rest. Hurrying down the staircase to your shared room, Elrond finds you sitting bolt upright in bed, brows furrowed and hand resting upon your middle. "I must get to the-" "No," calm as he is, Elrond seems to have developed a habit of interruptions, he thinks, "the midwife will come to you. Lindir?" "Sending for her now, my lord." At Elrond's side, you whimper. All too well does he remember this anguish; nodding, he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Lie still. You will be well."

~

Thank the Valar for healing magic; soon your screams melt into whispers shared between you and your husband and winces become faint, tired smiles. Elrond feels the strain of each push upon you, but marvels at your strength, the midwife all but telling you to slow down. "I beg your pardon," you reply, gritting your teeth, "but I must be free of this!" And free you are, for not long later cries fill the air and tears of relief and joy spill down your cheeks. Elrond caresses your face and meets your eyes with a tearful smile; never does this moment stale, in fact nothing in this world can compare. As soon as the bundle is placed in your hands, you hold your newborn out between you, Elrond taking hold and reaching out his other hand, which your daughter grasps. "She looks just like her mother," he tells you with a smile. "But hopefully she inherited her father's wisdom," you tease back with a tired grin.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🩷

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

a best friends to lovers trope with eddie where he goes to reader about every date, hookup etc for her advice which she sadly provides. that is until she sets a boundary with the excuse that she’s tired of constantly helping him like this (but also because she’s in love with him and it hurts)

happy ending please (or not) do what you want and i hope this helps 🩷🩷

May I request a fluffy Eddie piece where reader had a long day and she quite literally collapses in Eddie's lap cause she's so tired, and her head is in his lap and he's stroking her hair cause he's so in love with her??

Combined these two requests because I thought it would be cute. You'll see ❤️🥰

Request by anon.

❤️

"Do you think Sammy will like this shirt?" Eddie asks worriedly. He's holding up another band shirt and you nod, feeling the familiar ache inside of you.

It happens every time Eddie has a date. To Eddie you were his official advice giver, he asked you for help with every date he had and it ranged anywhere from what to wear, to what flowers he was to get, to kissing etiquette on a first date.

Dutifully you answered every query and worry but over the last few months, it has been tiring. It's been difficult to separate your feelings for Eddie and act like him going on dates isn't killing you inside.

The pressure was too much and you can't hear any more about Sammy or Tina or Anna or whoever he's dated in the past couple of months. You don't want to be selfish as he's your best friend but if you don't say something then you'll just get even more upset and withdrawn inside.

"Eddie, stop. Stop please I can't do this anymore. We need to have some boundaries" Eddie stills and gazes at you stunned. He literally looks like a deer in headlights and you feel so bad but this has to be done.

"What's wrong princess?" he sounds so concerned and your heart aches even more that you have to do this.

"I'm so in love with you and I can't do this anymore, I can't. It's killing me inside because I so desperately want to be with you but you don't feel the same and I have to hear about all of your dates when I know you would never feel that way about me, ever"

It all comes out in a big rush and by the time you've taken a breath, Eddie looks stunned.

"Uh, I... Shit" he gasps out and you feel absolutely humiliated. Fuck. What if you've ruined everything with Eddie.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I have to go" you rush out before he can say anything else.

❤️

You're going to stay in your room forever and not see anyone. It's the only way that you could get over confessing your biggest secret.

Now Eddie would be on his date and what if he had a problem and felt like he couldn't turn to you because you made everything so awkward. So you were staying right here and hopefully after some time everything would be okay.

You would face Eddie tomorrow. Unfortunately for you Eddie has other plans. There's a knock on your window and Eddie is sitting outside on the slate of your roof.

Panicking that he might fall you rush to get the door open and he tumbles inside. He gets to his feet and smiles impishly, all dimples. God you loved him.

"Hi Eddie, uh how was the date?" Oh real smooth you idiot. Ask him that after you blew up at him. Eddie blushes and ducks his head shyly.

"There was no date, sweetheart, I've been thinking about what you said and I can't believe that the girl of my dreams is in love with me"

"Sweetheart, I never thought you'd ever be interested in me. So I dated and shit, hoped I'd forget you but that's impossible" he caresses your cheek and rests his forehead against yours.

When his lips meet yours for your first kiss, you feel like you're in heaven, you can't believe that this is happening.

"Would have saved a lot of heartache if you just told me that Eddie" you point out and his cheeks darken.

"I know princess but if you give me a chance then I will make it up to you, I promise. What do you say?"

Pleased you nod, "Okay" he's beaming at this point and presses his lips you yours again.

"Get ready for Eddie Munson's guide to wooing, will sweep you off your feet baby" he winks and you roll your eyes giggling at his antics. Idiot.

But now he was your loveable idiot.

❤️

Six months later

Geez you were so tired. It had been a busy day at Family Video and you were so tired, like you could barely keep your eyes open because you were so sleepy.

Some of the customers had been trying on your patience today and you had a headache on top of being so tired.

Steve had dropped you off at Eddie's and all you wanted to do was cuddle up with your adorable boyfriend. Eddie cuddles healed all (at least in your opinion)

When you head inside and straight to Eddie's room he's waiting up for you and pats his knee so you collapse on it and feel the tension leave your body for the first time today.

"Ugh, today was shit" you moan as Eddie softly strokes your hair, his big brown eyes gaze down at you lovingly. The love in his eyes always took your breath away, you couldn't believe that Eddie loved you this much.

It mirrored how much you loved and adored him.

"Oh, my princess, you want me to run you a bath? We could watch The Princess Bride and eat the cookies that Max baked for us?" that sounds so nice but for now you just want Eddie to hold you.

"In a bit babe, can we just stay like this for a little bit longer" he agrees with this and continues stroking your hair softly.

"As you wish"

❤️

[tragedy-of-commons]

HI GWEN POOKIE CONGRATS ON 200 IM SO PROUD OF U !!! U DESERVE IT SM <33

can i req “who did this to you” + xiao + romantic

teehee 🫶

"Who did this to you?"

Xiao trembles with an energy he knows all too well. It's wispy and dark and miasmic, keening at the idea of tearing whoever or whatever roughed you up like this to shreds.

Despite your swollen eye and bruised knuckles, you only smile at him in response, not an iota of dejection swaying your form. It's one of the things about you that intrigues him, loathe as he is to admit it - you're never seen without a performance of bared teeth or stretched lips.

But even if you're unaffected, that doesn't change that you're hurt, that you've been threatened by some unknown force, and Xiao wasn't there to protect you--

"Well, hello to you too," you swallow, sensing his unease and repressed rage. "Um, nothing like that happened, promise! One of my friends is visiting in the area, and we decided to spar. Like old times."

Adeptus Xiao knows what sparring is, and he knows what injuries (maybe not mortal...) sustained from those lessons look like. He's fairly certain, despite you being his only human companion, that you're not supposed to be limping.

He can't touch you right now, as much as his impure heart flooded with sin yearns for it. Before he ever trusts himself to comfort you, he'll sit on his hands and remain still for centuries.

"This friend," he almost chews the syllables, "I require a name."

You purse your lips, looking out towards the melting skyline. "That's not how this works. He isn't a threat, okay? These are superficial wounds. Sometimes it just gets intense... if he'd gone easy on me, it'd ruin the whole point of the fight."

His eye twitches, and the voices recede, if only for a moment.

You are never without merit, despite how others may dismiss you. Xiao does know what it's like to be caught up in the throes of combat. Plus, you've tried to reason with him about 'how he gets'. Normally, being told off by a mortal would earn them his silent ire, but even he can't deny he feels like a scolded dog.

...but you are important to him, so he'll let it slide like he always does.

"If he truly wounds you," Xiao starts, considerate, "I need to know."

Blessed with your grin once more, you take a step closer. He's not scared of you, per se, but the Adeptus' hackles start to raise instinctually. What if he hasn't calmed down enough yet? Should he play it safe and go about his duties, if only to make sure none of his penance unjustly latches itself onto you?

Should he run the tip of his spear through every menace to Liyue, soaked in viscera, wracked with the phantoms of your injuries?

"Xiao," you whisper. "Listen to me."

No. He won't do that, because you're right here, and you are alive.

"I'll make sure to call you if that ever happens. I'm safe," he hears a bird cawing somewhere as you take ahold of his ring finger. Of course, it's devoid of any wedding band - customs such as that are below and of no use to him - but the gentle grip of your hand is close enough.

It's a silent promise; one that Xiao needn't repeat, but he will anyway.

You're fine - you're not to be taken from him. In order for you to trust him with your mundane secrets and joyous laughter, he needs to trust you to fight your own battles.

He only nods solemnly, recovering at his own pace. "Did you... achieve victory?"

Letting go of him, in a headache-inducing, booming voice, you boast, "Did you think I could show my face around here if I didn't?! These marks are nothing! You should've seen what he looked like after I wiped the floor with him! Honestly, all of my old pals have gone soft--"

Xiao is once again swept up in the whirlwind that is you. Curbing his overprotective instincts, your relationship is something he holds sacred. For as long as he's able, he wishes to relish in the dynamic, even if he's undeserving of it.

(...and perhaps also because he's a little concerned you may 'wipe the floor with him' too.)

🏷️: @akutasoda, @aviiarie, @lowkeyren

a/n: i hope you enjoy where i took this, ray! i know it's a bit shorter than average ^^" but i did enjoy writing xiao in this setting. your support means everything to me! silly yaksha. barely proofed since i'm sleepy...

event post here

[hotheadedhero]

Threshold

AN: Think I still got Rise Raph deep-rooted in the brain, especially his savage mode, soooooo enjoy the result of my obsession :3

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: violence, couple of bad words, kinda angsty (are you surprised?), savage Raph being protective <3

Dark. Pitch black. Quiet.

When did it get so dark?

The last thing Raph remembers is-

Crud. His head is pounding. He pulls himself up from the strangely cold floor and rises lethargically only to cause further incursion against a ceiling. Ow. One hand nurses the top of his head as the other feels around. He’s inside some kind of box, smooth all around and cold - must be a metal. How did he get in here? He was… he was out. Somewhere. That’s it, he was out with… with… with you! Yeah, date night, that was it. Then, something happened. Damn it. He can’t concentrate with this drumming in his skull. Him and you. Out together. Then… then? 

Shit!

His shoulder suddenly barrels into the side, and a second time but no budge. He remembers now: the two of you were making your way back from an anniversary date when a group got the jump on you. They must have knocked him over the head and trapped him in here whilst he was unconscious. That means they have you. No. Not on his watch. Not as long as he’s got breath in his lungs.

Surveying his circumstances, he realises just how serious these guys are about keeping him at bay. No windows, not even a keyhole for light to pass through, nothing but darkness. This box also appears to block out a decent amount of sound. Just him and the crackle of his breathing as it comes in and out in shorter successions. His palms stroke over the cold, metal walls before he punches one. Then, again. He slams his fists in the same place over and over in the hopes of creating a weak spot. 

Nothing.

His annoyance and dread only grow. Just what is this thing made of? No. No time to speculate. It doesn’t matter how sturdy this entrapment is. What matters is finding a way to break it. Whoever has done this is going to pay sorely. Raphael is protective of everyone he cares about but when it comes to you, he feels a bit more passionate; decisively out for blood. A concerning revelation he hadn’t the cause to encounter until now but he won’t worry about that now. He needs to make sure you're not hurt. He needs to get out.

Once again, his hands ball up and he punches every spot he can feel. He's not going to give up. He'll keep going until his knuckles bleed if he has to. Every whack makes the metal ring in his ears. Every jab stings as bruises form on his fists. With every hit, an image of you flashes in his mind, scared of what danger you may be in. The interior lights up with the bright red of his ninpõ and he carries on. He has to protect you. There’s no way of contacting his brothers for their aid. He needs to get out.

Eventually, he comes to a stop. Raph gave it all his might and hasn't even made a scratch. The perpetual darkness and his stunted gasping pushes him closer to the edge. He falls to his knees, head spinning, his mind dizzy and disoriented. Right. That’s right. This cage is a complete seal, which means it's more than likely that there aren't any cracks for even oxygen to pass through. His air is finite and he's wasted it all on this futile attempt to break out. No. He needs to get OUT!

The large snapper cries out in frustration, only for his screams to bounce back at him with an even fiercer roar. You’re alone with the threat out there. He’s alone in here. He can feel himself slipping. The only assurance he has is himself and his self-assaulting shots of paranoia. Why can't he get out of this forsaken box?! No. No. Nonono! He needs to stay. He's not going to be much help if he ends up going berserk. Raphael’s teeth clench and he clasps onto his head desperately. It feels like his brain is splitting in two. Crap! Keep it together. Keep it together. Keep it to-

On the outside, some tunnels down, you have your hands tied, held behind your back with little give. The ropes bite into your wrists as you twist and turn, trying to find some leverage to loosen them. Your surroundings are cold and unwelcoming, filled with the faint scent of metal and something else you can’t immediately place. It’s unpleasant but recognisable. The sewers. More specifically, New York sewers. That’s a relief in some respect, knowing that you’re still in familiar territory. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. Raph is out there, and you need to find a way to reach him. Your heart races at the thought of him being in pain or worse. You can't let that happen. You have to find a way to get to him, to tell him you're okay, to let him know that you're fighting too. Think. There must be a way to get out of this before those hoodlums come back. Everything around you is as bare as the ideas in your head, in that you have none. With a huff, you adjust back into a sitting position. Something pokes at you where thigh meets hip bone. Something sharp. A shuriken! You’re glad for your need to be ready for any given situation but wish you had opted to place it in your back pocket instead. The top half of your body swivels one way and you force your legs to turn the opposite. Your fingers twitch and stretch in desperation. With each movement, the ropes dig deeper into your skin, but you push through the pain. You suck in a sharp breath and twist yourself further. A nail scratches against the metal and then the tip of your fingers. You frantically stroke towards yourself until it’s released from the captive pocket and clanks onto the ground. There’s no time to get breath back, however. You quickly stumble on an axis and clasp onto the star, wasting not another second as you delicately rub it back and forth against the ropes. The fibres begin to fray, and you can feel the bindings loosening. Hope surges within you, igniting a fire in your belly. You just need a little more time.

Just as you’re about to free your wrists, two figures, masked and menacing, step inside the concave structure of grey brick and stone, their eyes glinting with malice as they size you up. You do the same, noting the slightly inhuman shapes of them. They must be Yokai of some description if you had to guess. Do the turtles have beef with any Yokai? You don’t recall.

"Well, well, look who decided to wake up," one of them sneers, stepping closer.

You swallow hard, adrenaline coursing through your veins. "Where's Raph?" you demand, your voice steadier than you feel. “What do you want with us?”

The other figure kneels down to your level and chuckles darkly, “Our only interest is that big pet of yours. He’s got a pretty price on his head for the battle nexus and we intend to collect.”

The battle nexus: a major blood sport attraction that used to take place in the hidden city back when Big Mama was running shop. An event that you thought to be deceased many years ago. You suppose it’s only natural that someone would eventually want to resurrect it for their own nefarious desires. What better way to do that than with a behemoth turtle who showcases great strength? If their only priority is Raphael then what’s the point in keeping you around? You’re glad they’ve kept you alive but they could have just as easily left you behind. You’re almost afraid to ask but you need to maintain conversation whilst subtly working on your restraints.

“Why keep me around then?”

“Leverage,” the one in front of you states simply and you can feel the smirk in his voice. “Our guess is that he’ll be more agreeable if he doesn’t want you getting hurt.”

The two laugh and you frown. A sense of dread swirls in your stomach. Sickos. Taking advantage of someone’s love and care just to torture the life of another. Each cackle from their hidden lips only feeds into your desperation that much more. It takes another moment and then, finally, your shoulders can relax and you take a calming breath. You join in their laughter, rising in volume as they quieten. When they silence completely, you do the same with a long, melodic sigh.

“You made just one teeny tiny miscalculation.” Suddenly, your arms land at your sides and you fall back, bringing your feet up to kick the first tyrant in the face. “Dating one of the Mad Dogs means picking up a few tricks!”

With one down, you push yourself forward onto your feet, quickly tossing the throwing star in the other guy’s direction. It catches him on the leg and he howls in pain, falling to one of his knees. That works for you. You see your opening and take it, running as fast as you can down the long tunnel. With determination fueling your every step, you run, ready to face whatever awaits you, knowing that the moment you find Raph, you’ll both be able to get out of this.

"Raph!" you shout, desperate for him to hear you. "I’m here! I’m coming!"

The sound of something scraping against metal echoes through the sewer hall, and you can only assume that it has to do with him. Running on that theory, you sprint in the direction the sound came from, bounding past a couple of goons and bringing you to a large junction where four tunnels meet. In the centre of this junction is a large metal cage and it cries from something inside trying to get out. He’s in there. This is it! 

You run past five or six more masked figures to get to the box. Maybe you should have thought this through better. Yet again, they won’t be a problem if you can figure out how to open this thing; a switch, a lever, anything! But there’s nothing. In a last-ditch effort, you pick up the first thing at your disposal - a broken pipe - and whack it against one of the corners. The hit reverberates and sends a shockwave through your bones, making you drop the pipe. How are you supposed to get this blasted cage open?!

You reach for the rusted tube of metal again but a set of arms snake around you and lift you from the ground, tearing a scream from your lungs. Freedom was so sweet, yet so short. You shout hysterically for your Raphael, hoping with all your breath that it’ll reach him, that it’ll give him the strength to breach him of his capture. 

"Sorry to burst your bubble,” one of the crooks from before laughs, although breathless from his run here, “but that box has been infused with mystic energy! It would take a miracle to-"

SCHREEE-EEEECH!!!

A piercing shriek cuts through the open air and everyone halts. Bangs like thunder trail after, followed by another loud, ear-splitting scrape of metal. All eyes slowly glance over to the box where a couple of large, dark-green spikes are poking out from the side, having cut through. They disappear back inside and are soon replaced with two hands that proceed to push the metal away. You smile victoriously. You knew your big lug would find a way to break out. That spiky shell is sharper than he gives himself credit for. You attempt to run forward and reunite with him but this damn bastard won’t let go of you.

Raph erupts from the confines of the metal box, hunched over and huffing with a gravelliness that makes the hairs on your neck stand up. The atmosphere shifts like a storm brewing on the horizon. He stands tall and intimidating, the dim light casts shadows over his hulking figure, muscles coiled like springs ready to unleash chaos. The moment he spots you, a deep growl rumbles from deep within his chest, resonating with an anger that has been building in the darkness.

Still, no one has attempted a move, no one brave enough to do so, but one is eager to see this standstill put to an end. “Don’t just stand there! Attack!”

The crooks scramble, thrusting their weapons in his direction and he responds with a guttural battle cry, lunging at the nearest bandit - a hulking brute who barely has time to raise his weapon before Raph’s fist connects with his jaw. The impact is followed by a nasty crack and the crook is sent sprawling backwards into a wall before slumping to the ground like a ragdoll. This beast - your boyfriend - doesn’t stop there, moving with an agility that almost seems unnatural. He pounces forward with a speed that belies his size, taking out more assailants one by one and without restraint. Each attempt on his life is met with devastating retaliation and another nameless body on the ground.

Heart racing, you stand helplessly caught in the grip of the larger thug who has yet to release you. You can only watch in awe and horror as the dark side of your boyfriend further emerges like some fiery reincarnation. It’s as if he’s become something other than himself, a creature of pure rage, driven by a rudimentary wrath that eclipses the calculated fighter you know. Raph’s movements are fierce, but there’s something primal about them, a wildness that feels almost foreign. It’s as if he’s been overtaken by something deeper, something instinctual that drives him to protect.

When there are none left to fight, you call out, “Raph!” your voice breaking through the chaos.

He stalls, sits on pause for just a moment, and his head cranes to the side to face you. That’s when you see it, that’s when it makes sense; his eyes. They hold no shine, nor do they ignite with relief upon realising your presence. Clouded over, ghost white, they are completely and utterly devoid of your Raphael. You think you’ve grounded him, even slightly, but the sound of your voice and your helpless form only torches his fury further.

Those blank eyes stare just to your left and at the thug still holding you. You feel his entire body stutter, hear the gulp in his throat, and a whimper just before he lets go. He runs off with a trip and gets away as fast as he can, being the only one who has managed to flee the area unscathed. You’re weirdly glad for that. In a morbid kind of way, he can hopefully warn others not to ever mess with you guys again.

You gradually tempt yourself to look back at your hulking goliath of a boyfriend. You’ve heard about Raph’s “savage mode” but you’ve never seen it yourself. There’s never been an instance in which it could happen. From the moment you two have been together, you’ve practically been tied at the hip. You don’t want to fear him of all people but you recount stories of this beastly persona, how even his own family have not been entirely safe in the midst of his presence. There’s no telling if you’re in danger right now.

He makes his way towards you and it’s as though you’ve been turned to stone. Worst-case scenarios flood your better judgment to the point that you can’t bear to look. Remaining dead still, you listen closely to his movements, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart in your ears. It sounds like he’s right in front of you and then… behind you? Slowly, you take a peak and turn. He stares off where that last thug had run off, seemingly chalking up whether he should chase after or not. If you had to guess. He appears to decide against it and circles you again. There’s been no move to actively acknowledge you, which you hope is a good sign.

“Raph?” With no idea of what’s going on inside his head, all you can think to say is his name.

He huffs and makes a glance at you, only to return his attention to the room. A strong arm is held out in front of you as he breathes gruffly. His head jerks side to side in case there are any more threats to vanquish but it’s clear to you that they’re all beat. You need to find a way to calm him down so that you two can get out of here. Pronto. He backs up closer to you and lowers himself more. Before you can wonder what he’s doing, he suddenly grabs you and pulls you into his chest, holding you there with one arm.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, big guy. It’s okay. You got them all.”

Your efforts to lull his antsy behaviour are for nothing. He huffs from his nostrils down at you again and runs off. His grasp on you is secure, strong, and safe like any other instance you’re wrapped up in green muscle. You thank whatever higher forces that even this feral side won’t hurt you but you still need to get your Raph back before anything goes out of control again. You imagine he must be taking you somewhere safe, where is what you’re concerned about. There’s no telling who you may cross paths with and who could get hurt while he’s like this. Granted, the sewers aren’t regularly populated but it would just be your luck if there were workers down here at this time or something.

You keep trying to usher him to calm down but he continues on his quest, running through the maze of sewers. There’s no getting through to him. He only skids to a stop when something clinks around the corner and gets down on all fours minus the arm holding you. The source of the scuffle is nothing more than a group of mice looking for a good meal. Despite the lack of threat, he’s still on edge, body tense and rigid around you. You try to wiggle free of his arm and reach out for his cheek, softly petting the rough skin.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” you calmly usher. “We’re okay.”

He takes in a shuddery breath and shakes his head. There’s a battle in his mind, an instance in which he wavers. Much is clear when his hold loosens. You scramble against the floor and onto your feet, taking a hold of his face before he can straighten himself out or blow up again. There’s a combative roll of his vocals, sounding shot, and his head leans down into your hands. Hunched over like this, he almost looks like a big, wounded dog in need of comfort.

“Raph… keep safe,” he grunts quietly.

Those blank eyes flicker up, a spark of recognition igniting behind them. It’s like watching a storm cloud begin to part, revealing the sun beyond. He’s in there. He’s coming out. Little by little, your soft-hearted giant is trying to return. You smile down at him, hopeful, and softly pull him closer. As you hold him against your chest, you plant a soft kiss on the top of his head. He relaxes into it and gingerly wraps his arms around you.

“I am safe,” you whisper, stroking a hand over his head. “You always keep me safe.”

He hums back lowly. You both stay like this for a moment; the security of his hold around your waist, your fingers delicately caressing his head. You don’t mind how long it takes for him to fully relax. You’ll take all the time in the world if you have to. Though time seems to be on your side when he suddenly gasps loudly. His arms go taut and you hold onto his head, paving a hand over the top of his shell.

“Hey, heyheyhey! It’s okay, I gotcha,” you reassure. “Just breathe.”

His breathing is ragged, each inhale shaky as he processes all of the chaos that unfolded. Raphael can’t piece together what happened. He knows what happened to him to get to where he is right now but he doesn’t know the extent of what he’s done. The echoes of his own growls and the sounds of battle play back in his mind but without any cohesiveness. It’s so terrifyingly frustrating. It’s there and it isn’t. He quickly looks up at you, eyes frantically darting around, then back on you in search of any injuries.

“Where- What happened to- I didn’t-” He swallows hard and trembles against you. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you answer quickly, “you didn’t. You could never.”

You hold onto his face, grounding him as best as you can. The fear still lingers. His chest is still collapsing under every half-breath and stuttered gasp. He can’t bear the thought of hurting you. Even if it isn’t entirely him, he would never- could never forgive himself for such a thing. As he continues to crumble, you know it’s going to take more than words to calm him down.

“Raph, look at me,” you say softly, urging him to focus on you. “I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. I promise.” You kiss his forehead and speak into the skin. “Just breathe, okay? In and out. Just like we practised.”

He nods, albeit slowly, and tries to mirror your breathing. His head hangs low whilst he tries to collect himself. You watch as his body rises and falls, your heart aching more with every pained whimper croaking in his throat. His vulnerability is something you’ve rarely witnessed, reserved for the few times that he’s had night terrors. 

Gradually, the frantic energy starts to dissipate. He leans into you, resting his forehead against yours as he tries to regain his composure. You can feel the tension in his muscles begin to ease. His eyes slowly open and he expects to be faced with distress but all he finds is a gentle, sad smile. He only wishes he had the strength to give you one in return. At least he’s gotten a grip on himself now. His nerves are shot but he’s steady again. That’s the main thing.

“There we go. I’m so proud of you.” You softly peck the space between his eyes and smile more assuringly. “Let’s go home now, okay?”

Coming to a slow stand, he breathes out and nods. “Yeah… yeah. Let’s go home.”