#and silver had to fight him to snap him out of it

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

❗❗ HEY ❗❗ I SAUR YEW ADD BUCKY BARNES TO YOUR MLIST 🫵🫵🫵 YOU AINT SLICK ❗❗

anywayssss would you be willing to rank your comic book men on least to most willing to kill for their darling? i know we got your opinion on dick but i wanna see how it compares to everyone else

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋…

!!! GN reader, mentions of death/murder, violence, breaking bones, intimidation, threats, manipulation, general mental issues, biochemical attack (how the fuck did we get here), mutilation, self-harm, can be translated as either romantic or platonic.

Help, why did the beginning of this ask trigger my fight or flight for 0.2 seconds, LMAO. I dropped my phone like I was caught red-handed or some shit.

So, I initially made an oath to not answer any more asks until I either finish Life With Older Brother IV or my secret side project, but then I got this ask and figured I could use a little creative break. I’m hitting some brick walls right now with all of my writing projects, sobs.

So!! Here we go. Remember, this is in the order of least to most likely in a general sense. Featuring some new faces because I’m finally confident in depicting their comic book counterparts, yippee!!

Jaime Reyes: Obviously, if the scarab had its way, anyone who poses as a threat to Jaime’s beloved would be neutralized. But we’re talking about Jaime. As long as he’s in full control, he’d probably do everything in his power to not kill anyone, even if it’s for you. He knows he’s fucked in the head. No matter how hard he tries to convince himself it’s still just the scarab preying on his anxieties, it’s getting harder and harder to distinguish Khaji Da’s thoughts from his own. This spiral into insanity around his own morality and guilt would have him cling oh-so desperately to the idea that he’s still a hero. To him, the no-kill role is the only way to know for sure he’s still (kind of) himself.

Bruce Wayne: He’s The Batman. Of course he doesn’t kill. Sure, he may be a bit more violent towards potential threats when it comes to you, but he still doesn’t kill. It’s a core belief that he’ll stick to for as long as evil lurks in the shadows of Gotham. Besides, why would he need to kill when cracking a few ribs gets the message across just fine? Most people don’t even want to fuck with him in the first place; both as Bruce Wayne and especially The Batman. In many cases, simple intimidation will do the trick. It’s much neater than violence. Though violence is definitely still on the table when he’s in a mood (Alfred, for the last time, he does not need a therapist. He’s perfectly functional).

Clark Kent: Whereas Batman doesn’t kill, Superman can’t kill. Meaning, Clark is well aware of the image he has to uphold as the ever-so hopeful Man of Tomorrow. Which is actually fine by him. Due to his strong sense of morals, the thought of blood on his hands makes him sick to his stomach. But there are some cases where that dark voice in the back of his mind whispers he could easily snap the neck of that weirdo talking to you. Of course, this is clearly just a strange intrusive thought, and he guiltily shakes it out of his head the moment it appears. He’s Superman, for heaven’s sake! He’s better than that! Stooping to that level is simply not an option. But you know what is an option? Gripping people hard enough that their bones shatter. Accidents do happen, after all…

Wally West: The chances of him killing are very slim. Believe it or not, he’s not against the idea or anything (only when it comes to you), it’s just he doesn’t see the need to get his hands dirty. There are enough tactics in his arsenal that the thought won’t even cross his mind. A silver tongue can work miracles on its own, and standing at 6 feet tall, Wally can be surprisingly intimidating in his own right. Should there be any threat agains you, he’s more focused on getting you out of harm’s way than beating the shit out of anyone (that comes later, away from your prying eyes). At worst, anyone who pushes their luck will get fractures and road rashes as a result. Killing just isn’t an impulse Wally has. But if it absolutely has to happen… well, wouldn’t that be a shame?

Dick Grayson: As mentioned before in a previous ask, killing is off the table. Dick’s still a hero, and heroes don’t kill. It’s just that he miiiight accidentally lose control if he sees you in a critical state. The ask goes into much deeper detail than this, but to sum it up, he would feel devastated afterwards but eventually justify it to himself. It was to protect you… if he didn’t do it, god only knows what would’ve happened. Otherwise, he’s not one to get his hands dirty like that. The most he’ll do is deliver a very ominous threat that doesn’t outright mean he’s going to kill anyone, but the implications aren’t very pretty. And, if he can help it, he’d rather if you’re not in earshot. Unless if he somehow sees it as a good manipulation tactic. Then sure, you can hear all about how he’s going to drown someone in their own bathroom.

Peter Parker: He has a strong aversion to killing. Now, is that an outright no? As much as he’d like to think so, there are situations where no-kill is optional. Most of them involve you being in active danger. While he doesn’t go out of his way to kill anyone, he sure as hell isn’t thinking about the survivability of his rampage to make sure you’re safe. Causalities would be collateral damage; unfortunate, but possibly necessary. He also has a habit of threatening people’s lives when he’s particularly pissed off. As long as you’re not in some sort of critical state, he usually doesn’t follow through with them (and may even feel guilty afterwards). That being said, hearing your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man deliver a cold one-liner about wanting someone dead is still hella scary.

Steve Rogers: Listen, it’s not at all what he wants. He wouldn’t advocate for murdering your problems away both with or without the shield. But sometimes — just sometimes — it’s necessary. Of course he’d kill someone that posed as a threat to your personal safety. That doesn’t make him a terrible person or anything; most people would do that for their loved ones. Where the line starts to blur, however, is when there isn’t any immediate danger. Does that weirdo who was looking at you for too long count? God— no, Rogers. What is wrong with you?! But… then again, there was this look in their eyes… something’s just so off about them. Ultimately, Steve wouldn’t go through with it, but the thought does cross his mind. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

Hal Jordan: The answer is yes, but mostly because he’s a Lantern. Sometimes, neutralizing the threat is necessary. He would absolutely kill if it meant saving your life. Is it ideal? Absolutely not. Is it cathartic?… Lowkey. Hal’s not afraid to abuse his right as a Lantern to “neutralize the threat.” But keep in mind that this is a rare occurrence that depends on his mood. Really, he only considers it for situations you’re extremely distressed by, like some piece of shit giving you the creeps. He wouldn’t kill for his own personal gain, as much as he sometimes wants to; this is all about you, not him. I also don’t really see him having regrets. If he wants someone dead, he absolutely means it.

Remy LeBeau: It’s simple; if he’s gotta do it, he’s gotta do it. He’s got not moral hang-ups when it comes to killing. He doesn’t do it often, but he’s willing to clean up a mess or two if needed. The need to kill ranges from your personal safety to just not liking someone’s vibe. If that were the case, he’d give the poor sucker more than enough hints to leave you alone. Murder would be a last resort should they not listen; which is totally on them, by the way. Gambit can’t help it if they’re not the sharpest tool in the shed. Is kinetically charging someone’s car to explode not enough of a warning or something? Man, what is wrong with people these days…

Tim Drake: Okay. Tim is just so versatile. Yes, he’s absolutely morally opposed to killing. Yes, it’s a necessary evil. Yes, the thought of it makes him want to throw up. Yes, he’d do it in a heartbeat for you. Somehow, all of these thoughts coexist in his sick little head. What makes Tim a threat is the fact he’s extremely unstable. One day, he’s got himself in check; god, he would never kill anyone, why would he do that?! Then the next day, he seems to have a change of heart; if anyone even looks your way, he’s dumping anthrax in their cereal. His preferred method is something clean, but if he’s in a particularly bad mood, he may revert to some mutilation with his nails. On those particularly violent days, he’d much rather harm himself than others, but there is something cathartic about scratching at someone else while sobbing about minute problems. Though that’s one hell of a “did I do that” moment when it’s over.

Scott Summers: Yes. And he’ll fucking do it again, too. When it comes to you, this man has killed people by accident before. Did he give a shit? Absolutely not. Why would he care if someone doesn’t know how to protect their spinal column when taking a blow; especially if it’s someone who dared to lay a hand on you? And, yeah, he’s supposed to be a good role model for mutants all over the globe, but a good leader knows how to take calculated risks when needed. Your safety is his top priority, meaning he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to keep danger away. Man, is it just absolutely brutal watching someone’s skin melt away from the friction of one continuous optic blast. Who knew he could cave in skulls with that shit?

Bucky Barnes: Let’s be honest, is anyone surprised? Yeah, that’s what I thought. You could simply point to someone you hate and they’d be gone within the next 24 hours. Bucky isn’t here to fuck around. While he may regret any kills he was forced to carry out, he sure as hell doesn’t regret the ones he’s actively choosing to do. If anything, his conditioning has left him no other way to show his total devotion to you. Yes, this means you he leaves fresh human hearts at your doorstep. Yes, this means he strings up the remains of your annoying colleagues where you can see them outside. Yes, this means he watches you sleep while caked in blood and guts after every nightly kill. Some small part of him knows it’s wrong, but he really could not give less of a shit. So much for trying to reform him…

[llondonfog]

I saw the injury prompt list. If you're taking prompts, could you do "...Who did this to you?" "Let it go (Name), it doesn't matter-" "Yes, it does. Who did this to you?" With Lilia and Silver, Silver being the one injured?

anon, you spoke right to my heart with this prompt <3 apologies for the wait, i hope you enjoy it!

"Who did this to you?"

His father's voice could curdle the blood of battle-hardened men, flat as a blade and twice as deadly. Silver swallows the guilty flinch that tremors through his exposed spine with the same devastation of a small earthquake (would it be cruel to hope that Lilia's aging eyesight might have missed such a reaction in the dim light?), and curses himself for leaving the bedroom door unlocked— granted, with the vast majority of the student body celebrating the dismissal of final exams in the aftermath of Malleus-sama's overblot ("A very generous decision of mine, indeed!"), he hadn't anticipated that anyone would linger in the dorm during the festivities.

Even after everything they've been through, the old man was still as unpredictable as ever.

He needn't to look up to begin to imagine the expression on Lilia's face, the fury and concern melded as one on the fae's delicate features. After all, he was still Silver's father— was there any other appropriate reaction upon seeing the angry scars metered out in deliberate strokes against the smooth skin of his back, as if something had raked vicious claws across him with cruel intent?

"I'm fine, Father," Silver is quick to reassure the fae all but vibrating with incandescent rage in the doorway, a side of his father that he is still getting used to— Crewel had cautioned them all about navigating the effects of Malleus-sama's overblot, especially on his father's own recovering mental state. Having spent so much time, even if in a dream, recessing back into his frame of mind during the great human and fae wars only to be violently thrown back to reality . . . it was little wonder as to why Lilia's emotions were so vulnerable and raw, spiking freshly up to the surface when it came to members of his precious family.

"It hardly matters now. Professor Crewel already examined me thoroughly, and he gave me potions that he personally brewed to ensure that they were healing well—"

"You did not answer me—"

His father rarely breaks into Silver's responses. His patient, encouraging father who waits for his considerate thoughts to coalesce and emerge as if they were precious pearls worth their time. His father, who has crossed the room to where Silver sits on the bed, frozen, in quick strides and firmly raises his chin to meet their eyes; blazing crimson into strained aurora.

"Silver, who did this to you?"

His lips move on their own, traitors to the way his heart is screaming for them to be silent. He is a spectator removed from his body, watching as Lilia's face turns ashen, sick with a horror as he stares with disbelief at the clawed hand cupped around Silver's face as if it could not belong to him.

" . . . Father, you— you could not have known—"

After all, it had only happened once upon a dream.

[diejager]

More Wolfie plz🥺? Idk what you’d right but I love the universe you built up with it and would love more of it, even if it’s just a sliver

Training Cw: smut, training, collar, ring gag, doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, PinV, fingering, tell me if I missed any.

“What did I tell you about growling, pup?” He sounded so demeaning, his hand laid heavy on your nape, holding your face down and away from the two men in the room with you.

Ghost had pulled you to Price’s office under the guise of this being training, wanting to work through your aggression you’d thrived on while living in the wild. You were jerky and a biter, baring your teeth after a low growl, threatening to sink into someone’s hand or arm as retaliation. They were getting a lot of complaints from people who would approach you and attempt to pet your ears and tail, wanting to touch the softness of your washed fur and disregarding your personal space and boundaries.

“None of that,” his grip tightened around your neck when your throat rumbled, a growl slipping through your gagged mouth, drool rolling down your cheek.

They gave you a pretty, black ring gag, placed behind your teeth to keep your mouth open from biting them and showing off your sweet and fiery mouth. The black leather looped behind your head, a thin strap connecting it to your collar, a smooth, black leather that sat comfortably around your neck without irritating it, but thin enough for you to feel everything. They had you wear it as a sign of possession, the silver insignia of their Task Force hanging from the front, a skull and winged sword proudly gleaming under the light wherever you go.

You mellowed down, growls quieting to loud pants, exhausted from your skirmish with Ghost, doing your best ignore your Captain’s rough handling, his calloused fingers kneading the flesh of your hips and stomach, his hands smoothing over the arch of your back to your tail. Your fur was matted and wet, dirtied with slick that - prior to being forced into this position - pooled down your rim and wetting your soft fur. You’d long given up in fighting Price, he was much stronger than you and smelled of power and strength —like alpha. He was the leader of your little pack, a fiercely protective leader who had every intent of putting his group first, but it was his scent that made you stop. He smelled of strong musk, a heady scent of cigar and cedar, less smoky and sweet than your Lieutenant’s sandalwood that kept flooding your sensitive nose.

“Good pup, you’re doing so well,” Price cooed, running his fingers through your hair, scratching the reactive nerve behind your ears. It made you whine, a high sound that had both of them shush you, “That’s it, you’re all right, pup.”

Your panting grew louder, mewls slipping out as a final sign of submission, letting them bend your body to their pleasure. You arched your back, bucking against the bearded man that was ploughing into you, driving his hard cock into your wet cunt, slick squelching out of you with every snap of his hips, his balls slapping your twitching clit. You couldn’t deny how good it felt to give up all autonomy after having taken care of yourself on your own for years, letting another care for you and manhandle you in the best way. His veined girth laid heavy in your cunt, your gummy walls wrapped round him in a tight hold, just a hair away from coming.

Canting his hips and leaning forward, your world exploded in bright lights when Price’s head tapped your cervix, punching the air out of your body with every thrust. He was guiding you through your orgasm just as he had his, his cock throbbing and veins pulsing before the tip spurted ropes of cum, painting your walls white with his tangy lad, hot and thick. Price groaned lowly, palms holding your hips flushed to his, giving a few jerky thrusts before he hilted inside of you, unmoving but grounding you with the smooth touch of his thumb and Ghost’s grip on your scruff.

When he pulled out, his cum oozed out of you, dripping down your mound and landing on the old couch in his office. He admired the gift with a slight twitch of his cock, it leaked out of you like an unending fall. Wasteful, truly. His fingers slid down your thighs, gathering his cum and pushed it back in, fingering his load with a few wet sounds.

“Stay good for Ghost, pup. Can you do that?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Baby, Mine

Azriel x Reader - Angst/Fluff - One shot

Rhys returns from under the mountain and Azriel’s life is changed forever as a bond snaps with the female his brother brings back with him. After an unexpected pregnancy is revealed, Azriel strives to show his mate just how much she and their child mean to him. Please read warnings below.

Bonus Chapter/Part 2

Warnings: discussion of rape and S/A, pregnancy resulting from rape, mentions of trauma, language, mention of pregnancy termination

“We should get up. My stomach’s growling.”

“And I thought it was just the little one chatting with my shadows.” Azriel teased, flushing beneath her gaze as his scarred fingers traced lightly over the growing swell of her abdomen, becoming more apparent by the day. He’d been nervous touching it for the first time, like he’d desecrate that precious life force growing underneath with his hands that had inflicted so much pain. But the way her eyes lit up the first time he touched it, he never wanted to forget the feeling of love and joy radiating into him through that newfound bond. It was beautiful - made him feel worthy of helping raise the beautiful life she was bringing into the world.

Though her stomach growled again, she made no move to get up, and by the way her hands were holding onto him, Azriel knew better than to go retrieve a plate from the House of Wind’s kitchen for her. So he sent a shadow beneath the door to see if Nuala or Cerridwen were there and if they could bring leftovers in, that is if Cassian and Mor hadn’t devoured the entire breakfast already.

“How’s she doing?” Rhys asked into his mind.

“Better than some days but not great, Rhys.”

There was a pause before Rhys’ guilty voice reentered his conscious.

“She’s the most selfless person I know, Az. I’m glad you two have eachother. But if she needs anything, if you need anything, let me know.”

And she was. Selfless in a way that Azriel couldn’t fathom. Selfless in a way that made his gut churn, a way he wanted to roar at the moon and the stars, and anyone who would listen. Selfless when she should have never had to be. She was bright and radiant and kind. The world looked at her and saw ethereal sunshine, walking starlight, unfathomable beauty both inside and out. But there was darkness and pain there too, so buried down deep that only Azriel could feel it in the middle of the night as whimpers disrupted her sleep.

So many nights Rhys would have to come in and cradle her mind, send her soothing thoughts and visions of anything beautiful that could mask the perils that haunted her dreams.

Azriel hated himself for it, the jealousy. He wished he could soothe her in that way but no matter how much love he sent through their bond, that darkness rooted itself so deeply within her that sometimes it took significant power from Rhys to reach it.

As if Rhys wasn’t already fighting his own trauma and waging against the insurmountable guilt he carried after being under the mountain, plus worrying about Feyre in the Spring Court. And that wasn’t to say Y/N was a burden in any way, though she felt she was. It killed Azriel to see both his mate and his brother fighting so much grief and not being able to do anything about it.

She’d have been better suited to be Rhysand’s mate than Azriel’s own by their intertwined traumas, by their ability to put themselves aside for a better world. Azriel, of course, fit into this court of dreamers but she… despite only being here for such a short period of time, she was the biggest dreamer of them all.

Another rumble from her stomach snapped Azriel out of his thoughts, mentally noting to Rhys, “She could use breakfast.”

“I’ll send some for both of you. You need to take care of yourself too.”

Azriel smelled the salt of her tears before he saw the silver lining her eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow, draping a wing over her, he began to ask softly, “Hey-“. Her head immediately shaking and she choked on the word, “No.”

“Baby, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a burden. He just wanted to know if you needed anything.”

She took a few deep breaths, willing away those tears. “He doesn’t have to check on me. It’s my f-“

“Stop that. Listen to me, I’m always here to listen to you and I know that you’re dealing with complex emotions and trauma that I cannot even begin to fully fathom but this.. it’s not your fault.”

Her eyes welled up further as Azriel continued,

“I don’t want to lecture you or invalidate what you are feeling. Your emotions are justified but… these thoughts will eat you alive, they’re vicious lies that have been conditioned into you, and I can promise you that nobody blames anything on you. This entire family is so fucking grateful to have you as a part of it. In a world of darkness, where you had every right, every reason to bring that darkness with you, you chose light.”

He choked on his words as those tears flowed down her face. “You chose light when it only brought more darkness upon yourself.”

She cut him off. “She’s not darkness.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow. “She?”

And through her tears, he saw the slightest gleam of radiance in her eyes. “I can just feel it. Feel her.”

Azriel pressed a kiss to Y/N’s belly. “Yes, you are absolutely right. She is not darkness - she’s a beacon of light, the brightest star in the sky, perhaps aside from her mother - but the mental load you are carrying, it is dark and it’s heavy. And yes, you would carry darkness with you regardless of this spark of hope” he rubbed her belly in tender circles for emphasis. “But I know that mind of yours. That you are telling yourself that you’re a burden, that you made the wrong choice, when there was no wrong choice.”

At this point, the tears were streaming down her face, his shadows dutifully whisking them away, but only gratitude and love flowed from her.

A knock came on the door. Azriel’s eyes glazed over as Y/N recognized the telltale signs of what was happening. A line creased in his brow before she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, he can come in.”

“You sure, my love? He understands when you need space.”

She nodded. “I know but I think I need to see him today.” Azriel brushed his thumb in soothing ministrations across her abdomen until she pulled her night gown back down to cover herself.

The door creaked open and Rhys padded over to the bed, guilt and adoration limning his features. “Hey, starshine.” She blushed at the term. She hated her own name after Amarantha had called it so many times under the mountain. Rhys had begun calling her Starshine in secret due to her Day Court origins and the fact that he was convinced she’d been more suited for the Night Court.

Rhys had been drawn to her under the mountain, something about her reminding him of his brother. Rhysand could admit that Azriel was the most beautiful of the three brothers, his features seemingly crafted by the gods themselves. But if Azriel’s features were crafted by the gods, Y/N’s were crafted by the Mother herself. Aside from that, she had a quiet presence, though far less stoic and broody than Azriel’s, it was more of a quiet, gentle grace. A grace that Amarantha had tried so hard to shed her of but was never quite successful.

Amarantha, of course, made it her mission to both seek pleasure from her and torment her. When she never fully broke, Amarantha decided that instead of throwing her to the dark corridors she stuffed most lesser fae in, she’d make an excellent play thing. She looked mostly High Fae after all, yet had enhanced sexual appeal due to her nymph ancestry - perfect high and round breasts, long legs, a firm yet supple ass, and an arousing scent - needless to say, Amarantha delighted to add her to her roster of bed chamber accompaniment.

Y/N and Rhys developed a quiet understanding of each other and the roles they were forced to play in the year that she’d been under the mountain before Feyre arrived. They did not grow close enough for Amarantha to become concerned but enough that she knew her play things got along well enough to bring them both into her chambers at the same time.

Rhys would never forget the first time Amarantha had forced he and her into her chambers at the same time. Y/N tried to be strong, and she was. Another aspect of her that reminded him of his brother.

But she began to crack slightly, and Rhys knew Amarantha would make it so much worse for her if she did. So he did the only thing he knew to do and held her mind. He showed her visions of the Night Skies of the Night Court, the spirits of Starfall, the laughter of a family surrounding a table in a beloved restaurant, anything that could help her through it.

As he held her mind, she’d unwittingly sent visions from throughout her twenty-two years of life prior to being captured and brought under the mountain. She was loved deeply by her family who had little more than love to give. Eventually they had been murdered by Amarantha’s cronies at the age of nineteen - she’d been able to escape and live among the High Fae who sneered and objectified her, but offered enough coin to sleep with her to keep a roof over her head.

Rhys had determined that night that if they ever made it out of there alive, he was taking her to Velaris with him. She’d never live like that again.

He even smiled at the thought of introducing her and Azriel when she was ready to meet his family, already picturing his brother’s rose-dusted cheeks in her presence.

“Thank you” Azriel’s low voice withdrew Rhys from his thoughts, taking the plate from his hands.

A familiar scent wafted off of Rhys to Y/N. Pregnancy had heightened her sense of smell substantially.

As she sniffed the air Rhys gave a soft, sad smile at the eye brow she raised at him before asking, “Where is she?”

He shook his head, darkness rolling in waves off of him. “Tamlin locked her in his fucking manor. She had a breakdown.”

Her face drew tight. “That bastard!” Azriel flinched at the rage flowing down the bond. “She must have been terrified.”

“She certainly terrified the servants in his manor. She shrouded herself in darkness and nobody could get through to her.”

“He doesn’t deserve her.”

Rhys nodded. “He doesn’t.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Rhys. Where is she?”

“At the Town House.”

Her eyes blew wide. “Cauldron boil me, is she staying?”

Azriel smiled as he felt her excitement flow into him. A bit of that Day Court sunshine returning to her.

“I don’t know. She knows she can’t tell anyone if she goes back, but…”

“I felt it through the bond, Y/N. I think she’s here to stay.”

Azriel’s shadows agitated at the pause in verbal conversation, chattering back and forth,

“Secrets”

“Secrets”

He rolled his eyes and dismissed them, already knowing there were some things that remained between just Y/N and Rhys. He’d accepted it the very moment he’d shown up after he received word that Rhys was finally home and the bond snapped as soon as he laid eyes upon the radiant female by his side. He knew it snapped for her too when she walked right up to him, touched the hands he tried to hide behind his back, her eyes speaking everything she couldn’t. “I see your scars. I bear them too.” And pressed a kiss to each hand.

“Do you want me to leave? I assume she’s at the Town House but I’m sure she’ll be visiting here too, yes?”

Azriel bristled. No way in hell was Rhys going to make his mate leave, whether this home was his or not, she had a right to be present wherever she wished.

“Easy brother.”

Azriel shook off the feeling. The mating instinct was still so strong that he had a hard time not jumping in to defend her at the thought of any threat, physical or emotional.

“Y/N” Rhys took her hand.

“Don’t bite my head off for holding her hand, either.”

Azriel huffed before firing back to Rhys’ mind “I can’t wait for you to find your mate someday so you can see what it feels like to be so wound up like this.”

Rhys only gave a small, secret smile in return.

Y/N interjected. “Are you two done gossiping or can I know whether I should pack up or not?”

“This is your home just as much as it is my home. You are my family and I want Feyre to meet all of you. Cassian has already barreled through the door of the Town House along with Mor begging to be fed. Feyre went up to nap and recollect herself.”

“Can we have dinner with her… if she wants to?” She asked softly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness to her voice.

Rhys gave a nod. “I was thinking that same thing. Would you be comfortable?”

She nodded before the reality of the situation caught up with her.

“Y/N.” Rhys leaned in, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “I am not ashamed of you. I will never hide you or the life you are selflessly bringing into this Court of Dreamers.” His eyes lined with silver. “And I will always be so proud of the love that you both share. I knew from the moment I met you that my brother would adore you. And the fact that you two are mates? It’s one of the greatest things to come from that shit hole of a mountain. A reminder of the beauty that can prevail, even after the most dreadful of circumstances. I love all three of you.”

Azriel held his mate closely, ensuring she felt just how loved she truly was.

“She kicked for the first time the other day.”

Rhys raised a brow.

Y/N let out a sigh. “Ugh, you two are so skeptical. I really believe that this baby is a girl.”

Rhys eyed the scarred hand protectively placed over her round bump, so many complicated emotions running through him, with love being the strongest.

“Feyre will likely ask questions tonight regarding all of us, our stories. Nobody has to share anything they do not wish to, but you also may share if you are comfortable doing so. I would really like for Feyre to become a member of the Inner Circle-“

Rhys looked to Y/N rolling his eyes at the smirk and waggling eyebrows she gave him.

“Stop that. My point is just that, I would like for her to know all of you. I know she’ll love you all just as I do. Hell, she’ll probably love all of you before she’s ready to even fully tolerate me.”

Azriel let out a chuckle as his mate quipped “Tell me the story of the time she threw a shoe at you. It’s my favorite!”

“You cruel, lovely little thing.” Rhys laughed. “See you both for dinner.”

As Rhys exited them room, Y/N sighed. “You were awfully quiet.”

Az nudged her. “And that surprises you?”

“Okay, quieter than usual.”

Azriel pulled her in close, peppering kisses across her forehead. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. You are still healing and now you’ll be facing someone else that was under the mountain with you.”

“She saved us all, Az.” She looked up into his hazel eyes with nothing but genuine adoration. “Without her, I never would have met you. And what kind of existence would that be?”

She began picking at the plate Rhys had brought in. Letting out a moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.

Az couldn’t help the involuntary twitch of his wings at the sound.

She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas until I’m finished with my food.”

Azriel raised his palms. “I’d never get between my pregnant mate and her meal. With the way she’s started moving, she’d likely kick me away anyway.”

She took another bite while nonchalantly commenting, “I thought of a name for her.”

“Oh yeah?” Azriel’s brows raised in anticipation of a potential name for their child.

“Azure. The same blue as the skies. I thought…”

Azriel cut her off, marveling at the name. Whispering more to himself than her. “Blue like the Day Court skies, blue like the skies that I love to take you flying in.”

She flushed. “Yes, exactly. And though it’s a different shade of blue, like your siphons.”

A lone tear escaped his eye. “And,” she continued with a coy smile. “We could call her ‘Az’”

Azriel sat still for a moment. And she would have thought he didn’t like it had it not been the rush of pure shock and awe flowing through the bond.

Suddenly he took her face in his hands, barely giving her time to swallow the bite of bacon she’d just taken, and crashed his lips into hers. And after her lips were swollen and puffy from the heat of his lips, he began pressing kisses all over her belly, whispering between them, “I love you, little Az. I love you more than the skies I fly in. More than my own name. More than any dreamer could dream of being loved. I can’t wait to fly you through the open skies, and show you every shade of blue this beautiful world has to offer. Nothing in this world matters more than you and your mother. I couldn’t be more proud to be your father.”

And he meant it. Every single word. The blood running through the baby growing inside of his mate didn’t need to be his, what mattered was the love flowing within the child and he intended to pour every single ounce of love he had into their baby.

It was Y/N though who broke down at those words. She and Azriel had spent every free moment together since meeting. He’d healed her in ways that she never could have dreamed. Finding her mate changed the time after Under the Mountain from the lonesome trauma reckoning hellhole she’d anticipated and into a time of healing. He listened to her, understood her, let her set the pace in every aspect. And he’d shared his trauma with her, all of it.

The child who had been abused by a wicked stepmother and horrid step-brothers, overlooked by his own father had grown up to be loving, caring, and patient in every way. And now, he was going to be the parent of a child that was not his by conception, choosing to love the child just as he would his very own. A vow he’d sworn in their mating vows and sealed with a bargain.

“What is it, love?” Azriel wiped away her tears.

“Stupid hormones. I just love you so much and I need you to know that you are so much more than I ever could have dreamed of. If I had to, I would go through it all again as long as it led me to you.”

Azriel’s eyes began watering again. “Look at us, Y/N. We’re quite a sight. Whatever you say tonight, just don’t let Cassian know that I’ve gotten so soft.”

Her glassy eyes sparkled as she gave a sweet smile. “I have a feeling that softness has already been there, my love, I just had the privilege of coaxing it out of you.”

He smiled. “Truth Teller personified.”

————————-

“We’re heading up now.” Rhys’ voice cut into Y/N’s mind.

“Are you sure about this, Rhys? Most of them do not know what all happened under the mountain. What if it’s too much for Feyre to take in?”

“She’s my mate, I have to hope that she will love and accept us all in time. It may be a lot to meet us and hear our stories but they’re a part of us, a part of loving us. I’m worried about Cassian scaring her off more than anything.”

“Valid concern. See you soon. Despite the circumstances, I’m so happy she’s here.”

“You know,” Rhys chuckled. “I feel the same way about you, Starshine.”

“You flatter me. Now enjoy your flight with the literal girl of your dreams.”

“She’s glaring daggers at me right now. Pray I make it there alive.”

“Where’d you go?” Az nudged.

Leaning into her mate’s side, embracing the warmth of his arms wrapped around her shoulders she replied, “Rhys and Feyre are on the way.”

“Are you ready for this?” He asked.

“I’m sure you can already feel my nerves down the bond but I appreciate you for asking.” She teased.

Azriel kept his pace slow as they wound through the hallways of the House of Wind toward the dining table. “If you’re not ready…”

She took a steadying breath. “No, he needs to get off on a solid foundation with her. And Cassian, Mor, and Amren have eyed us for a while, they realize that something is off. Plus, I mean, look at this thing.” Her delicate hands found her stomach. “They’re going to figure out that the timelines don’t match up soon enough.”

“Our girl IS growing.” Azriel spoke, not missing the opportunity to feel the life growing within his mate.

She teased, “You’ve referred to the babe as “her” a few times now. Coming around to the idea?”

“I know better than to go against your intuition.”

With that, Y/N gave a wicked grin. “Mother knows best.”

As they approached the dining room, Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right by your side.”

She beamed. “And I’ll be by yours too, with whatever you may share tonight…and forever, of course.”

As everyone arrived and gathered at the dining table, Y/N couldn’t help but admire how lovely Feyre and Rhys were together. Though she hated the situation that brought her there, that Tamlin tried to hoard her away in his manor, she couldn’t help but feel joy knowing that she was finally beginning to see the true Rhysand.

The Inner Circle kept up with the typical antics and plenty of laughter filled the space, but the conversation eventually turned more serious as everyone took turns giving Feyre insight into themselves.

Feyre looked to Y/N with curiosity. “You were under the mountain, but Azriel was not?”

Her hands shook as she prepared to share. A warmth covered them as Azriel gave a gentle squeeze, sending waves of that reassurance in abundance. She took a breath.

She began by sharing the background of her family, their deaths, that she’d sold her body to survive afterward, how she’d only been under the mountain for a year before Feyre arrived.

“You didn’t know Azriel before they took you?” Feyre asked. Not harshly, just inquisitively.

Y/N held her head high. Her story was not one to be ashamed of.

“I did not. Rhys was one of the only souls to show me kindness under the mountain. I have nymph ancestry with primarily High Fae features. Amarantha took an interest in me and….”

An unreadable expression covered Rhys’ face. This was his trauma too, but he gave a reassuring nod.

“She began taking me to her chambers. I had no choice. It was warm her bed, or face physical torture until death.”

Feyre flinched along with Rhys. Y/N recognized that they were remembering the human girl Amarantha had tortured to death just before Feyre’s arrival.

“She also, against our hopes, realized that Rhysand and I had an understanding of eachother - serve her or die. Being the lust-driven wretch that she was, she began taking us both to her chambers. There was no room for weakness in there. She wanted us just weak enough to submit to her, but we had to remain strong in every other aspect. The first time she had Rhys and I, together,” she cleared her throat, giving pause before continuing, “Rhys saved me. I began to crack, and he held my mind. I will let Rhys speak on his own trauma and the mental load he carried, but he didn’t hesitate to help me get through it. It was not the last time he had to help me through it.”

The table was completely silent. Heart-wrenching expressions filled each face at the table. Palpable rage could be felt radiating off of Amren, though her face remained straight.

Her voice began cracking. Azriel pulled her close into him. “When you saved us,” She looked to Feyre. “I don’t mean to fawn or gawk over you, but Feyre, you did save us.” Feyre gave an empathetic look, nodding to Y/N to continue. “Rhys brought me back to Velaris because he couldn’t bear for me to return to the life I was living, because this Court of Dreams is made up of individuals who have lived through terrible traumas and, despite every reason to lead bitter lives- have chosen to dream of a better world. To fight for a better world. And he knew a certain Shadowsinger and I would get on quite well. In fact, he’s been a smug bastard ever since over just how well things went between us.”

“When I met him.” She stared lovingly to Azriel who swallowed a lump in his throat. “The bond snapped between us immediately. The same day I was brought here, I met my mate.”

Instinctively she placed her hands on the swell of her abdomen. “Rhys gave Azriel leave to spend time with me, for him to help me through the aftermath of what I’d been through…”

“But two weeks after arriving back, my scent began to shift.” Mor’s brows furrowed in contemplation.

“I became very sick shortly after that. Rhys called in a healer, Madja, who confirmed that I was two and a half months pregnant.”

Cassian audibly gasped and Mor murmured “Oh my gods.”

Azriel kept his composure for the sake of his mate, but this was killing him. His brother and his mate being forced by that fucking witch. “Azriel is not the biological father of this baby. The child was conceived under the forced coupling of Rhysand and I by Amarantha.”

Feyre’s face was a mix of sadness, and rage, and sympathy.

“There were options to terminate the pregnancy. However, due to my Nymph ancestry, such options can have negative, potentially deadly effects. Aside from that, though I never planned to have a child - I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member. Rhys, after losing his family, felt the same, which he only expressed after I shared my feelings with him. He was completely supportive of any decision I made.” Feyre looked to Rhys and then back to Y/N, no negative judgement written on those lovely features.

Y/N looked to Azriel with a loving grin “And Azriel- he took me to a priestess that night. We both wanted to accept the bond from the moment we met, the connection was unbelievably strong, I never believed in the power of the bond until I found him. And now because he’s ever the romantic, though I see him already blushing at the mention of it, he wanted to make a vow before the Mother - a vow to love me no matter what choice I made, a vow to love the life within me as his very own child, to love and cherish us both until his last breath.”

She pulled the sleeve off of her shoulder, revealing the intricate tattoo solidifying his vow.

“And Rhys,” She gave a soft smile. “He made a bargain to love and care for this child and to recognize Azriel as its father. We will not hide the parentage from our child. And Rhys, I know, already loves them dearly, but mine and Azriel’s decisions for our baby come first and will be respected as any biological parents would.”

She’d left out the part where Azriel had gone under the mountain to investigate later on and found that Amarantha had begun supplying a fertility tonic instead of birth control to Y/N after the Calanmai that Rhys had gone to the Spring Court and seen Feyre. Though she didn’t know who Rhys saw, she likely suspected he’d developed interest in someone else and become jealous, hoping an accidental pregnancy would either create a rift in any potential relationship or, even worse, that the baby could be used as leverage against him.

The table remained silent until Rhys chimed in. “So my brother is my child’s father. I’m sure stranger things have happened.”

Despite that sadness the Inner Circle felt, Rhysand’s comment elicited smiles. Azriel gave his brother a nod of thanks for breaking the tension while affectionately caressing his mate.

Mor eased the tension further by chiming in “Y/N! You are further along than we realized which means….. we get to go shopping for our newest family member sooner!!!”

Feyre decided soon after that she would like to work with the Court of Dreams.

————————-

Epilogue

Because his mate was always right, Azriel was indeed the father of a beautiful little girl, clever and stubborn like her mother, and the light of his life. Her mother the sun, and she the moon.

He and Rhys had just returned from taking “Baby Azzie” who was now a toddler to get pastries along the Sidra. Azriel returned with his half-asleep daughter in his arms, who perked up upon seeing her baby brother cooing in his bassinet. “Nyxie!!” She yelled, hurrying over to the winged babe. Rhys, however, arrived with numerous shopping bags in his own arms.

Feyre, who had been lounging with her head on Y/N’s shoulder gave the two a big smile. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “All of that better be for Nyx.”

Azriel and Rhys shared a laugh before Rhys spoke. “Well, half of it is, but only because someone batted her little lashes at us repeating ‘Brother, present. Brother, present’ until we took her into what is conveniently her favorite toy store.” Az cut in, “And because my brother is getting soft in his old age” before Rhys could remind Azriel that he was, in fact, the older of the two, Az continued, “Rhys had to buy something for her for every item she picked out for Nyx.”

Y/N groaned. “Cassian literally just bought her five new toys and six new outfits on their last outing.”

The raven-haired toddler with her mother’s nose and radiant skin, Rhys’ smile, and by some gift of the Mother - had Azriel’s golden-flecked hazel eyes, toddled up to Feyre, giving her a big hug. She then turned to her mother, leaning in to whisper something, that came out as quietly as a yell. “I got something for sissy too. Daddy has it in the pocket realm.”

Y/N’s face flushed as Rhys and Feyre gaped. “So much for keeping that a secret for a little longer.”

Feyre squealed leaning in and throwing her arms around Y/N. “I thought that maybe I was getting allergies, your scent hasn’t been as strong but you were glamouring it!”

Rhys pulled Azriel into a long hug, then walked over to Y/N with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Azriel placed a hand on his chest as he took in the sight of his blended family. It wasn’t what he’d ever expected but, to him, it was everything.

[beansprean]

manipulative grown baby colin rly is the star of the show

My Familiar’s Ghost part 86

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up of Guillermo's orange vampire eyes with slitted pupils, looking tired and frustrated. He says, 'This is so unnecessary...' 1b. Background showing the cage in the basement draped with silver chains, Nandor and Guillermo trapped within while Nadja, Colin, and Laszlo stand outside. Guillermo is pressed against the side closest to them, hands gripping the bars, and Nandor is leaning on the back wall with his arms crossed. Several bubbles with close ups of the characters pop up in the foreground as they speak. Colin, grinning maniacally and holding up the sparking cattle prod so the light reflects off his glasses, shouts 'We decide what's necessary, fool!' Guillermo turns from Colin to gesture frantically toward the others, asking, 'Who bought him another cattle prod?' Laszlo glances away, looking as contrite as he is capable of, and replies 'Whomever it was, I'm sure they regretted it immediately.' Nadja looks down sympathetically at her husband and says 'My love, I know you have been absolutely whipped by Colin Robinson, but we will have that intervention at another time.'

2a. Split panel, close up of Nandor on the left and Guillermo on the right in their same positions in the cage. They both startle and blurt out in unison, 'Intervention?!' Offscreen, Laszlo says 'Too right, by darling. These lobcocks have been left on the shelf too long.' 2b. Chest up of Colin, who is twirling the cattle prod authoritatively in the air as he says, 'Unlike Harvey Lowe Lifetime Achievement Award winner Dale Myrberg, we're tired of all this g-damned yo-yo-ing!' An asterisk on Dale Myrberg's name leads to a footnote which reads 'Decorated yo-yo player and US national grand master (yo-yo.fandom.com/wiki/dale_myrberg)' Next to him, Nadja gestures toward Colin with a hand and says 'What he said! ...I think... Yes, we have been exhausted by the slow burning of your groins,' 2c. Close up of Nadja in profile in the foreground as she rounds on the cage and points at Nandor and Guillermo accusingly. She continues, snarling through her fangs, 'And we are not letting you out until you un-stink your sad penises!' In the background, Guillermo, still hanging onto the bars at the front, blushes, snaps his mouth closed, and brings his knees in as if to cover his crotch. Nandor, still positioned at the back wall, blushes and looks away, hands darting down to cover his own. 2d. Waist up of Laszlo as he begins to ascend the stairs out of the dungeon in the foreground, Nadja close behind. In the background, Nandor stands wide-eyed in the cage, watching them go. Guillermo presses himself again to the bars, desperately calling out, 'Wha-? W-wait, guys, come on!' Laszlo raises one finger above his head to point dramatically over his shoulder at the cage below and says, 'When we return, there had better be words in mouths or dicks in arses!' Guillermo shouts, 'Laszlo!!'

3a. Waist up of Colin at the dungeon door, already leaving but leaning back in as Guillermo calls out uncertainly from below, 'Colin?' Colin puts on a shiny-eyed pleading expression, sparkles forming around his head, and says, 'Sorry, Uncle Memo, but as the great lyricist Katheryn Hudson sang, 'we fight, we break up, we kiss, we make up.' It's time to finish the song.' An asterisk after the lyrics leads to a footnote which reads 'from 2008 hit single 'Hot N Cold' by Katy Perry (katyperry.fandom.com/wiki/hot_n_cold).' 3b. Repeat. Colin slams the door shut behind him, leaving with the parting words, 'I don't wanna be a child of divorce!' 3c. Shoulders up on Guillermo back in the cage, Nandor stepping forward behind him to point an accusatory finger up at the now-closed door. He sneers, 'Playing the 'child' card will not work on me, Colin Robinson!!' Guillermo, eyes shining with guilt and mouth going wobbly as he looks toward the closed door, says nothing. Text nearby points at him and reads 'working on him'. /end ID

[almostfoxglove]

ELEVEN STITCHES

as voted for by you for ⭐ my milestone celebration ⭐

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Joel Miller x Reader WORD COUNT: 3k CW: Graphic descriptions of canon-typical injury, blood, gore, and mild body horror. use of restraints (our man's strapped down) this is just fluff with blood.

SUMMARY: After Joel comes back from patrol injured, he wakes up restrained to a bed in Jackson's clinic where you've been tasked with patching him up.

read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist

You’ve never seen him this close. Nor this peaceful: asleep, his lips a breath apart, dark lashes scalloped over his cheeks. Scarred and battered, yes. Tried, yes. Such blue hangs beneath his eyes. But if you squint—blocking out the leather straps and silver handcuffs restraining him to the metal clinic bed—the notorious Joel Miller looks almost sweet. As you pierce him for the first time with the bite of your needle, sewing closed the end of his jagged wound, you almost can’t imagine this guy hurting a fly. He looks so soft. 

Then you pull the stitch taut, the chasm of split skin narrowing, a fraction of the slick, red muscle below disappearing. One second out and the next second gasping, Joel Miller shocks to his senses like you’ve electrocuted him, his whole body thrashing against his restraints. You pull your hands back just in time to avoid stabbing him with the needle, catch his brown eyes black with terror—

No, scratch that. With rage. 

“Woooah, alright there,” you coo, needle idle in your hand despite the steady drip drip drip of his blood on the floor. “Easy tiger, it’s okay, we gotcha.”

But he’s all animal, all fight. Won’t stop bucking against the leather straps leashed over his shoulders and ribs—his hands ball to fists below their cuffs, metal pinching into joints. It takes him a minute to even register you, too busy writhing, his boots kicking at the end of the bed. Makes a horrible sound. You have to say his name twice to get Joel to turn his head, then it’s over for you. You’re dead. 

Or you would be if you hadn’t agreed to let Tommy strap his brother down when they’d dragged his body in. Saying, it’s for the best, doc. Trust me. Just seconds ago the man looked harmless, face slack and unmarred by the creases that now canyon his brow, and yet there’s no denying in this moment that Joel Miller could pull every kind of pain from you. Drain every ounce of your blood. 

Smiling calmly in the face of his fit feels not unlike watching a jaguar growl in a zoo behind the safety of a fence: in awe of a predator’s bloodlust and naively unafraid.

“You hit your head on patrol,” you say, and your voice is a lake untouched by weather. The picture of professionalism. “You know where you are?”

He’s gonna break a tooth grinding his teeth like that, but you don’t say. You just watch him blink and scan the room again, his arms taut in their shackles. The injured one is bared for you to work on, unveiling the ropes of muscle and sinew that strangle each other as he struggles. “Jackson,” Joel grits, and fixes you with that ire again as he blinks, lucidity slowly creeping into his eyes. He’d kill you, you think, if he only had a free hand. A free pinky finger. At least until this panic wears off.

“Atta boy,” you smile. “You know your name?”

“Where’s Ellie?” 

You click your tongue. “Don’t think that’s it.”

His glare spears through the center of your skull—eyes that know no color but black, two tunnels of wrath-soaked violence. Stubborn, livid, in pain. He rocks his jaw left to right before answering with a stiff, “Joel.”

“Atta boy,” you grin, then return one hand to his arm above the dip in his inner elbow, hopeful Joel might let you resume your work, but he seizes the moment your glove grazes his skin. You don’t remove it. You need to steady him, close him up. 

You let out a patient breath. “You remember what happened?”

Something snaps then. His struggling returns with a vengeance, every muscle in his broad body fighting and fighting and fighting to get up. “Where’s—” he sneers, sharper now, “Ellie?”

Again the legs of the clinic bed squeal on the tiled floor, shearing as nails on a chalkboard—your ears tweak. 

“Hey—hey, it’s okay. She’s okay,” you hush him, lifting your hand again to show him your palms, your needle pinched between two fingers and attached to the arm he’s yet to notice is bleeding. “She’s alright, didn’t even need a stitch. We checked her for a concussion and she’s clear. You, on the other hand—”

“Take me to her, right now,” Joel growls, more animal than man.

You sigh, draw up restraint from its deep, deep well. “Can’t do that yet, honey. Gotta finish patching you up first, hm? That sound alright?”

Joel’s nostrils flare, upper lip peeling from his teeth as he snarls.

“Take me to Ellie. Right. Fuckin’. Now.”

“And here I was thinking Tommy was fucking with me when he suggested the restraints,” you tease, then soothe the palm of your hand over his bare shoulder. To your dismay Joel only thrashes again, trying to get away, so you set down the needle on the bed beside him and nudge your chair back to give him some air. “Not here to hurt you. But you got cut pretty bad, and I think once this adrenaline wears off you’re gonna be glad you let me finish this before releasing you on the world. But, here. One second—”

You hold up one finger and roll your chair back, kicking yourself over to the clinic room door. With the toe of your shoe, you shove it open a crack, letting in blue fluorescence from the hall. “Ellie?” you call into the corridor.

After a moment of quiet a far-off voice shouts in reply, “What?”

“Say hi to Joel for me, will you honey? Afraid he might Hulk out over here before I get him closed up.” A beat of silence hangs the air in which you peek at Joel with a smirk before Ellie yells out from a distant room,

“I’M FINE JOEL.”

“Thanks, honey,” you call back. When you’ve kicked yourself back to his bedside, Joel has settled to quiet seething. “Better?”

A grunt’s about as much as you could hope for. Smiling, you pluck up your needle again. “Alright. Think we’ve got ten stitches to go. Tell me what you remember.”

“I’m tied down,” Joel says instead, letting his eyes sink closed. Exhausted, you suspect. In no small amount of pain. But he doesn’t jump this time when your hands return to his arm, nor when the needle bites his broken skin. Little wins. 

Like magic, you’re a seamstress again. Once upon a time blood turned your stomach—even cheesy horror movies could trigger a storm of nausea—and any needle you took up was destined only to patch a quilt or save someone’s favorite shirt, never their flesh. Times change. Now you can stare down every kind of gore with an iron stomach and eerie calm. Any skin, any body, becomes a project to you when you’re working. Just a little cloth in need of mending.

“Very observant,” you tease with a small chuckle, daring to glance at Joel’s eyes as you pull the next stitch tight. A muscle ticks in his jaw but he doesn’t move. “Humor me a minute longer, okay?”

“There was,” he starts to say, “half a dozen of ‘em, maybe. We were—mmph—a mile out, had this lookout spot on a roof we usually check.”

“Mhm,” you hum, attention fixed on the disappearance of pink. 

“Don’t know how they got up there. Thought we had ‘em all but one was hidin’. Knocked me down the—think it knocked me down the fire escape.”

You nod along. “Eight more,” you interject in his next pause. “You remember how you got this?”

As his head turns, Joel’s curls scratch the stiff pillowcase and he looks down at his arm for the first time as if he too is looking at nothing more than an old quilt. Something that’s not quite his, not quite a body. “Was glass on the fire escape,” he mumbles. “Broken window I guess.”

Then he drags his eyes to you, bringing a singeing of a different kind. Maybe your jaw feathers, maybe it doesn’t. But something in your chest undeniably flares. “Well,” you grin. “Think we can rule out memory loss.”

Joel hmphs.

“Got six more.” 

You begin the next stitch. More red tissue seams, breathing pride into your bones. Can’t fix much these days, not on any meaningful scale, but you can do this—close one wound. Make one small thing right for the person on your table.

“Gonna untie me?” you hear Joel say.

With a small grin you glance up at him through your lashes. “Gonna lie still?”

His jaw rocks, considering this, maybe swallowing some snarky answer—but in the end he nods. Something hard deflates in his chest, that last pillar of hostility, so you too resign. Set down the needle again; it’ll need to be cleaned. When you stand over the clinic bed the weight of him watching you grows heavier and heavier until flicking open the buckles that cross his chest becomes an arduous task, your hands slow like they’re pushing through water. The metal clink of each loosening clasp is deafening. Then the thud of the leather belts slinking away, dropping to the floor. You pluck the key for the cuffs from your silver tray, toggle open each round jaw, and Joel lifts the arm that isn’t bleeding just enough to roll his wrist out, opens and closes his fist.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

“Sure thing.”

Gloves snap off and a new pair snaps on. You dunk the needle into a small bowl of vodka—it’s not perfect, but you make do, grateful for whatever supplies find their way to you—and at your side Joel remains stationary like he promised. A man of his word.

“We met before?” he asks, as you return to your stool. A voice like that oughta be bottled—coarse and deep and dragged through rubble. It could do terrible things to you, now that you’re listening. Now that you’re aware of being observed—feeling the tables have turned, that you’re the one being observed.

You don’t look at him. You stitch the quilt, bid adieu to thinning red tissue. “I haven’t worked on you before today,” you say evenly.

Joel goes quiet again.

“Four more,” you go on, pulling the thread. 

“Don’t know your name,” Joel says.

“Like I said, honey,” you reply. “First time patient.”

Below your hands Joel’s arm twitches at honey, or else it looks like it does, but he keeps it where it lays. “Meant outside of here,” he says.

A grin tucks into your cheek as you shake your head. “Seen you around,” you admit, eyes fixed on his closing wound. “But no. Not officially.”

You swear you feel him squint even though you can’t see his face, not hunched over like this, focused. “Officially,” Joel echoes, as if he’s trying out the word. Rolling it on his tongue, getting a taste. It’s a question without the punctuation—he wants you to elaborate.

“Three left,” you tell him, heart quickening.

Another hmph. A wordless press, another way around asking while still asking. Stupid, you flick your eyes to his face for only a moment, find him already staring at you, his eyebrows folded down so thoughtfully.

“Holding up alright?” you say. 

“What’s officially mean,” Joel asks.

Two stitches, that’s all. Two little knots and you can cut the thread of this conversation and send him on his way. Catch your breath before it shortens when he’s close enough to hear. You shrug. “Means we haven’t introduced ourselves. Haven’t really spoken before.”

He’s frowning in the corner of your eye. “But we’ve met,” he extrapolates.

“Last one,” you say.

“Dodgin’ my question.”

A traitor, your mouth slips up and grins—brief but telling, that shy tense of your cheek. “Barely,” you reply, pinching the needle through his arm once more. You secure the final knot with a small tug and reach behind you for the scissors, then snip. Project done. Quilt mended.

“Alright, just need to clean and wrap it and you’ll be a free man,” you tell him, rolling yourself back on the stool to browse your tray of supplies. Your fingers dance briefly over the gauze and medical tape as you consider your instruments, all the final touches necessary to make things tidy and neat. 

Behind you, the clinic bed squeaks as Joel shifts but you don’t hear his boots touch the floor.

When you roll back to his bedside, he’s sitting up, one leg hinged on the papery bedsheet and the other hooked over the edge at the knee, his boot swaying and laces hanging loose like two long streamers. Impatience bleeds across his face, and though it’s not quite anger in his eyes you nonetheless feel something in your body straighten. Sitting like this, Joel looms over you and your stool. No longer shackled, filthy and blood stained. Dangerous. 

This isn’t fear, though—it’s something worse. 

You hold out one gloved palm, closing your fingers twice in a silent give it here and Joel obeys, setting his forearm in your hand. Warm and heavy and tense—muscle ticking as you drag the alcohol-soaked pad across his stitches.

Your silence broods in the stale clinic air. A vapor you can feel on your skin.

“I was a dick, then,” Joel presses, breaking the uneasy quiet. He’s looking down at his arm as you wind stripe after stripe of stale gauze around the trunk of his injury as if entranced. As if shy. As if ashamed.

“Wasn’t your fault,” you surrender.

“Doubt that.” A dry chuckle follows, to your surprise. Such a warming sound.

Perhaps unprofessional, you laugh softly too and Joel’s head lifts at the sound. “You, uh—” you begin to say, pausing to find the right word. When you’ve got him wrapped well enough, you clip the gauze from the roll. “ We ran into each other in the mess hall, sorta bowled me over. Don’t think either of us was looking where we were going.”

You leave out the bit where he’d spat out watch it as he went, not slowing down for a second. Even then you didn’t blame him—sure, you’d bristled. Frowned, even, as he glared back at you over his shoulder. But he’d been with Tommy, clearly in the middle of some argument, and the anger he swung at you was wrongly aimed. You didn’t care. Later you even found it kind of funny. You’d glimpsed him for years at a distance, heard whispers, and more than a few of your friends had expressed hopeless infatuations with the inscrutable eldest Miller. Reporting that you’d run straight into his solid chest by accident had all of you laughing.

Joel looks to be remembering. Or rather he appears to be failing to, scowl deepening as you tuck the bandage’s end. Without thinking, you bend over to reach for his boot and retie his lace. There. Safe, secure. Fixed. 

“Voila,” you say, then push yourself back from him with a smile. “You are good to go.”

But he doesn’t move. Joel just sits there with his wrapped arm—his bare arm—resting in his lap, twisting one way and then the other, fidgeting. Eyes ticking between bandage and boot, perhaps surprised. “Don’t remember that,” he says. Like this you can see the crown of his head, all those silver laced locks that lick up in all curling directions, tousled and untamed after patrol. His broad frame droops as he sinks into something that looks too much like shame. 

Shaking your head is pointless; he isn’t looking at you. “Was more than a year ago, honey,” you say. “And it really wasn’t anything. I laughed about it, promise.”

Before he can answer, the door swings wide and a grin appears in its frame, squared by that eerie blue light. Ellie’s hair is getting long, the front bits tied back from her face, and the side of her baggy shirt is stained with darkness—Joel’s blood, if you had to guess. Long dry. 

“Hi,” she says to you, eyes round like she’s surprised to find you’re still here, since Joel’s clearly handled. 

“How ya feeling?” you ask.

A short nod, mischief in her grin. “Pretty good.” Then she turns her attention to Joel. “I’m starving.”

So you stand to give them some privacy, collecting everything from your tray that needs cleaning up, bagging the small mountain of red-stained scraps that had mopped the worst of the blood. Another metal creak, then the thump of Joel’s boots as he stands. You hear Ellie say, “Thanks, doc,” and twist over your shoulder to give her a wave.

The door swings closed.

“I wanna see those stitches in a week,” you tell Joel, busy with your tools. “But take the wrap off in a day or two, keep it dry. If you have any trouble—”

“I know where to find you,” he finishes.

He’s almost grinning when you turn your head, eyes crinkled but lips flat, pulling the second sleeve of his flannel back on. Yes, soft was right. You can see it again, clear as ice or moonshine—the tender center tucked under battered shell. 

You watch Joel cross the room with long, loping strides. Your friends might’ve been onto something, unfortunately. You like the shape of him up close, the surety in the way he moves. With his good arm, Joel opens the door and steps into its frame and though you expect him to go without goodbye, he hesitates in the doorway. Props the entrance open with the toe of his boot. 

You lift an eyebrow at him and the muscle of his tongue wets his bottom lip in reply. Fine—your friends are definitely onto something. You feel likely to melt if he intends to keep looking at you like this, with something dark in his eyes. Animal of a different kind.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Joel says, voice drawled and low so as not to be overheard, and here’s another peek at that something softer: his lips curling once more, just enough to dimple one cheek. “Promise.”

“See you in a week,” you tell him, and Joel nods before going.

You expect seven days to pass before you see him again.

He comes back in four.

dividers by @saradika-graphics - tag list & some mutuals!

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[chososluv]

✎₊˚⊹♡ summary: in which i thought of Work Husband!Nanami and how supportive and delicate and how he would be and how i'd want him to ruin me and thus this came along. w.c 2.2k 🏷 tags/warnings: fem!reader, reader has a vagina, office sex, petnames (hun, sweetheart, darling, little work wife), squirting, cremepie, dirty talk, also got excited will proofread fully later

Work Husband!Nanami: Who saw you your first day in the office and immediately wanted you to succeed greatly amongst the new hires. However you had no idea, taking his mature and direct aura personally and thinking he didn’t like you. You kept your distance.

Work Husband!Nanami: noticed you kept your distance and one day called you over. He sat you down and unprompted gave you pointers on how to succeed. You took the lesson with surprise and attempted to hide your excitement that you had been wrong. The man before you didn’t not like you. He wouldn’t take the time to give you a lesson — that you learned later he did not do to the new hires — if he didn’t like you? Right?

Work Husband!Nanami confirmed he liked you by telling you were the most impressive new hire he has seen. The compliment coming genuinely during a moment where he was admiring your work. A mock proposal and he had no critiques for this one. Versus when you first started — almost a month ago — he had plenty of feedback and concerns.

Work Husband!Nanami has to hide his excitement when you are offered the chance to stay. One of three of the twenty interns that came in, and due to your growth and determination, you earn the opportunity to score your first big person job with generous benefits. One of them being Nanami Kento.

Work Husband!Nanami offers to take you out to lunch as a celebration. Officially colleagues, you begin to let loose and relax around him. Your banter became increasingly witty and Nanami found his pants becoming increasingly tighter than usual whenever in your presence.

Work Husband!Nanami Who is oblivious to your slow testing of boundaries to see how far you could go. Your skirts became tighter on the days you knew Nanami would be working close to you — the shirts became magically one button undone whenever you were surprised with his visits.

Work Husband!Nanami catches on to your passes when you take the first step by verbally flirting with him directly. It was with the help of a little tequila, but you looked longly at his wrist, eyeing his watch one day during an after-work-drink. The pretty silver Cartier bringing attention to his prominent veins in his hand and thick digits. . .

Y/N, are you listening?”

“Sorry, was distracted by your hands.” You admit and he felt the heat flush to his face. Stunned by your words but you don’t flench, you go a step forward to bring his right hand into your delicate pair. Your soft hands running against his and he has to fight with strength to ignore that familiar tightness in his pants.

“Your hands are pretty”

Work Husband!Nanami regrets nothing happened that night between you, but he fucks his cock into his hand furiously that night, wishing it was your tight cunt riding him. Little does he know you’re riding your dildo, fucking your tight cunt on the silicone wishing it him instead.

Work Husband!Nanami plays a cat and mouse game with you. A game of flirty banter and longing gazes and touches. The two of you began building up suspense. Each day a day closer to one of you snap.

Work Husband!Nanami is surprised he snaps first. The day he snaps is the day you show up to work wearing a short skirt and high heels that accentuate your ass. It’s your presentation day too and as you turn to the side to present, your ass faces Nanami and he has trouble focusing on your topic. His brain so frazzled and dazzled by your generous rear he is digging his toes into the leather soles of his loafers. His fists tighten and you bite back a grin when you cast glance to him and see his jaw clenching.

Work Husband!Nanami has to flee as soon as the meeting is over. he quickly runs to his private office, shutting the door and sitting at his desk. he throws his head back, muttering and swearing as he spreads his thighs apart, alleviating the tightness between his legs. his mind began to wonder if he could survive the rest of the day with a hard cock and a pretty devil by the name of y/n.

Work Husband!Nanami begins thrusting his pretty pink cock into his hand. the itch and desire being relived as he thinks of your scent and what you tasted like. if you creamed or if you squirted — or shit, if you did both. he thinks about the recurve of your ass whenever he’d hit it from the back, or how soft your skin would be against his when he took you missionary

Work Husband!Nanami panics when he hears you knocking at the door but nevertheless says you can come in. When you do, you lock the door and immediately walk over to his desk. You sit down in the chair on the opposite side, pouting dramatically.

“How can I help, y/n?” Work Husband!Nanami asks of you and you only continue pouting. A dramatic, and comedic, sigh escapes your mouth and you cross your legs. A sudden cold draft due to your plan you had in motion before you entered his office.

“You left before saying anything to me.” You say rather needy but Work Husband!Nanami can’t help but feel entranced by your tone. A moment he realized he liked this bratty side you were displaying. However, he clears his throat and sighs.

“I wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t about you, darling.” He assures and you can’t help but feel guilty, oblivious that he was just beating his dick to the thought of your scent. You jump up from the chair, placing your hands on the desk and leaning forward. You unintentionally show him a charitable view of your breast but he tries to remain holding eye contact with you.

“Kento, I’m sorry I’m such a terrible work wife.” The first time you let the phrase fall from your lips and he chuckles. He’s well aware of the phrase, overhearing you loudly proclaim he was your work husband to coworkers not knowing he was on the others side of the wall. He waited for the day you would say it to him and today you finally did. . .

And for some reason, that really did it to him because felt his cock twitch in his trousers and then he finds himself looking at your breast briefly before speaking.

“Work husband, huh?” A soft smirk toying at his lips and you can't help but nod in confirmation.

"Yeah, don't you know?" You toy with him, an attempt to remain in control at the situation and you pass it off as flirty banter. He can only smile at you, tapping his hands along his desk as he speak his next words.

"No. Why don't you come show me, sweet work wife?" The low baritone of his voice went straight to your cunt and you're rubbing your thighs together. A pheromone daze shared between the two of you as you two stare at one another. A brief pause before you reach into your bra, retrieving your panties you departed with earlier and tossing them at Nanami. The dainty material lands on his thigh and he immediately sees the navy lace dark blue and soaked through. His cock jumps, and he looks at you. A cocky smirk is on your lips and he clears his throat before speaking.

"Come here, now" Work Husband!Nanami commands sensually before you and before you can talk yourself out of it you’re rounding his desk. He gets up from his chair, meeting you halfway before grabbing your body swiftly. He places you on his desk and it takes you a minute to register he lifted you like you weighed absolutely nothing. Your cunt fluttering at his brute strength and you stare at him doe eyed.

Work Husband!Nanami has to eat you out after pocketing your soaked through panties. His tongue dipping to collect your arousal that dripped out of you. Your scent clouding his nose as he moans against your wet and swollen clit. He sucks generously on the bud and you bite down hard on the back of your hand to silence yourself. Your eyes roll in the back of your head as his hot tongue circles your cunt like he was starved. Your free hand tugging on his blond locks and you feel like you’re about to cum.

“Kento . . . want to come on your cock, please.” You beg quietly and who is he to be a bad work husband and object?

Work Husband!Nanami rocks gently in you after slipping inside. He holds your legs up by the back of your knees, lewdly exposing yourself to him as he pistons himself inside. Your warm cunt hugging him deliciously and so tightly, yet you were so wet at the same time. Nanami is amazed, and already feels so pussy drunk off you surely he’s addicted. How can he not be? Especially with the way your tits bounced with each stroke and the way you moaned, singing his praises he ached to he able to take his time next time he was intimate with you. However he takes in the moment, casting a gaze to see your fucked out face and he wishes he could take a picture . . .

“Been dreaming of this pretty pussy.” He admits. You answer with a mixture of a giggle and a moan. The sound is beautiful and melodic and its something he can get used to.

“Been riding my toy wishing it was you.” You admit before you can stop yourself, allowing this side of you emerge as you felt drunk off his cock. He groans at your confession, rolling his hips deeper and tip kissing the deeper parts of you. It sends your toes curling and choking back a whimper.

“My poor little work wife been suffering by yourself. Let me make it better, honey.” He coos to you gently, kissing your forehead before rolling his hips harder. His long fingers find your swollen and neglected clit. You twitch harder against him, squirting and surprising both of you. You bite back a squeal as your eyes roll back.

“Kento!” You whispered in a desparate tone. Finds himself asking “Are you going to come, hun?” To which you reply — “mhmm, are you?”

“Fuck if you keep creaming on me like this, fuck yeah sweetheart.” Nanami makes a mistake and casts a look down to see his cock coated in a mix of his cum and your cream. His cock has never looked prettier and he fights the urge to fill you right there.

“Want you to come in me. Please, Kento.” You beg and he clenches his jaw.

Work Husband!Nanami has to shove his face in your neck when cums. His teeth biting hard on your neck as his tongue tastes you and your sweat. He feels you fight screaming as the bite travels straight to your belly, and his fingers circle your clit faster. That thread in your stomach unwinding and snapping. Your grip on him tightens as you cum all over his cock.

Work Husband!Nanami silences you with a kiss as he fills you with his cum. The overstimulation causing you to moan, clamping tightly on his cock as you fight to wrap your legs around his waist. He drops his hands, allowing you to do so and you wrap your arms around him as well. He holds you close to him, chuckling as you fell into the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Work Husband!Nanami has to see his cum trickle out of you and onto his desk. He has to fight getting hard again, but remembers one round was risky enough so he kisses your forehead gently to tell you how good you are for him.

Work Husband!Nanami wipes you down tenderly afterwards. He cleans you delicately before situating himself and his office space. When you fix yourself over he looks at you.

“You were perfect this morning by the way. Never been prouder of my work wife.” Satisfied with his words, his praise, and still in the haze of your orgasm you smile wide. You stand from the chair, fixing yourself to leave before he steps close to you.

"Thank you, Kento." You say, looking up as he looms over you. He brushes your hair back into its normal place, looking you over before you walked back into the office. His eyes are filled with nothing but tenderness as he tends to you, fixing your clothes and checking you over one last time.

"Do you feel better now," you nod at his inquiry, "all you needed was to be stuffed with my cum? Naughty." He shakes his head and you only shrugs before grinning up at him.

"Only for you." You tease Work Husband!Nanami and he clears his throat. He leans down, taking your lips with his deeply. You melt, humming gently before his broad fingers find your ass. He gives it a rough squeeze through your skirt and you blush at his gesture.

"Let me know when you need me to fill you again." Work Husband!Nanami says paired with an ass slap as you nodded. You look up at him beneath your lashes as you do before sauntering sultrily away. You unlock the door and exit his office nonchalantly as if he was not fucking you on his desk moments ago.

Work Husband!Nanami now has to figure out how he has to cope with knowing you're walking around the office stuffed full of his cum . . .

©chososluv ╰┈┈➤ P A R T T W O [Boyfriend!Nanami] ╰┈┈➤ M A S T E R L I S T !

[girllblogging777]

𝑈𝑁𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐾𝐴𝐵𝐿𝐸 ༉‧₊˚.

↳ 「𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒」 mattheo riddle x fem!reader (cousin’s best friend)

↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1,3k

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : mattheo tried to stay away from draco’s cousin, until she had a panick attack at a party

✩✩✩✩

mattheo riddle was “unbreakable”. everyone knew that. everything that he touched, he broke, including people. hate and anger seemed to be drawn to him, fighting and arguing with people had simply become his daily routine. but no matter what terrible things happened to him, or what horrors he endured, he never broke. because he was unbreakable.

tonight, he was currently standing outside of the ravenclaw common room where a party was being held, leaning against a pillar and smoking a cigarette. the moonlight softly shined through the glass windows of the castle and reflected on his hair as he slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke.

loud music could be heard from the inside, but he had chosen to stay away from it. truth is, despite his reputation, mattheo hated parties. he hated everything about it, from the people to theirs actions, to the way drunk girls practically threw themselves at his feet to be chosen for his usual hookups. so there he was distancing himself from everyone, because social events like these were the reason of his anger issues and anxiety in the first place.

the brunette boy slowly exhaled the smoke and closed his eyes. for the first time in a while, things felt slightly peaceful. but that was all thrown away when you appeared.

his eyes snapped open at the sound of your footsteps, and his heart almost leaped out of his chest when he realised it was you. the girl he had tried to distance himself as much as possible. out of all the people, of course it had to be you. as gorgeous as you looked all dressed up for the party, wearing a silver skirt and a matching makeup, your face said otherwise. your bewitching doe eyes were wearing a look of anxiety, and the cracking sound of your knuckles confirmed it to mattheo. so when you noticed him, you turned around and tried to walk away. your cousin’s best friend had made clear that he wanted nothing from you ever since you had transferred here, but little did you know tonight would change everything.

“hey, wait up !” three words that startled you. was he really speaking to you ?well that was new… mattheo couldn’t believe it either, he had promised himself he would stay away from you but the sight of your tears stained cheeks and smiles messed up hair made it impossible for him not to care.

“what’s going on ? are you okay ?” he asked in the softest voice you’d ever heard from him as you walked up to him. wiping your eyes and trying to fix your looks, you spoke.

“no, i need to see draco”. of course you were gonna shut everyone out except your cousin, how typical of you.

“he’s not here, left with a random girl couple of minutes ago” riddle nonchalantly declared as he took another drag of his cigarette. he would never let you see that in reality, he was a savoring each word you said to him as if you’d disappear at any moment. the moment he had waited and thought about for months, your first ever interaction.

“was he supposed to walk you back to your dorm ?” you whispered “yeah”. your cousin would never leave your side, knowing it’s not safe for a girl to walk alone at night in hogwarts. but of course, the only time you had a panick attack, he had to leave the party with a girl.

“i can walk you to your dorm… if you want to, that is. i wasn’t planning on going inside anyways” he declared without even thinking about it, carefully studying your precious face as if it was the most fragile thing he’d ever seen.

you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and took a deep breath. “okay, sure.” after all, he was close to draco and despite his usual nonchalance towards you, you knew he was trustworthy.

mattheo grabbed his worn out leather jacket and stubbed out his cigarette before following you in the moonlit hallways.

“will you tell me what’s wrong now ?” he asked you, as you kept fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

“nothing, i just may or may not have lost my mind in there” you sighed.

“and why is that ? you seemed fine when i left earlier….” each of his words were careful, not wanting to overstep any of your boundaries, especially since it was his first time properly talking to you.

“i always seem fine” the words were out of your mouth before you even thought about them. “hogwarts’ perfect girl, draco malfoy’s perfect cousin.” you always had to be perfect. you were always fine.

he noticed your automatic response and raised his brow, knowing you were lying. “yeah well, i don’t buy that for a second”

you scoffed “oh trust me, me neither”

“why keep that perfect act then ? if you’re not fine, why keep pretending to be ?” he looked at you to see your reaction.

“would you rather have me break down in tears in the middle of the party ? sure, that would just be lovely” you snickered.

he ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out what to he should say next. normally he would’ve left by now, normally he wouldn’t care and yet there he was walking you back to your dorm and trying to comfort you the best he could. “you’re stubborn, has anyone ever told you that ?”

“yeah, i get that a lot” you admitted as you began to enjoy the boy’s presence next to you, the banter between the both of you feeling natural. you couldn’t explain it but mattheo riddle felt comforting, and that was unbelievable.

“why pretend to be flawless ?” he asked “stop pretending you’re this perfect girl. stop putting unnecessary pressure on yourself to be someone you aren’t”

was the one and only mattheo riddle, infamous son of lord voldemort seriously giving you advice on happiness ? how ironic, you thought, trying to find a reason why he would even bother talking to you like he was doing now.

“i’m not saying you need to be anything different, just stop pretending you have all your life together and be yourself” he continued “because i doubt this perfect girl act is good for your mental health”

you scoffed “that’s bold coming from you”. when you saw the brunette’s jaw clench and the way he started walking faster, you immediately regretted your words.

“hey sorry, i didn’t mean it… it’s just, i don’t really understa-“ he immediately cut you off “it’s fine.”

“i just don’t understand why you’re doing this, that’s all. you don’t talk to me much, or ever…”

his eyes immediately softened. how could he tell you that the only reason he never talked to you is because your mere presence was enough to make his heart rate speed up ? and here you were tonight, walking gracefully as the moonlight reflected on your shiny hair. it was too much for him.

“well, your cousin made it pretty clear he didn’t want my fucked up self near you, so…”

“i couldn’t care less what draco thinks” you admitted, knowing that wasn’t even true. “if you stay away from me, i want it to be because you want to. besides i’m pretty fucked up too, i’m sure you got that by now.”

he scoffed, want to stay away from you ? no one in their right mind would ever wanna do that. “no, i don’t want that. i won’t ignore you anymore as long as you drop your perfect girl act with me” he suggested.

a soft smile creeped up on your face and his beautiful brown eyes lit up “deal” you answered cheerfully as you both reach the staircase leading to the girl’s dorms. “and by the way, i think you should apply your own advice to yourself. you need it more than i do” mattheo didn’t bother answering back and simply nodded. he may not have done anything special to comfort you tonight but you sure did feel better now, your anxiety long gone by now.

“thanks for walking me back, you’re not as bad as i thought you’d be” you said to him with a grin as you tried to mimic his usual nonchalance. mattheo chuckled “no problem, miss perfect. take care of yourself, yeah ? wouldn’t wanna see you have a panick attack again…” you knew the nickname was sarcastic but it still made you feel fuzzy inside.

“good night riddle, i guess i owe you one now. take care” you answered as you studied his face for one last time, not knowing if your paths would ever cross again. he cherished the smile you gave him and with that, turned around and left. heading back to his own dorm, mattheo replayed your entire interaction again in his head.he knew he had always been attracted by your looks, but now that he had a proper conversation with you and discovered the truth about you, there was no way he would ever move on from his best friend’s breathtaking cousin.

“broken and unbreakable” he scoffed. you two made quite the pair…

✩✩✩✩

a/n : i literally wanna make this a story at this point, also this is heavily inspired by a convo i had with mattheo on character ai (oops)

please like/comment/reblog (tell me if you wanna be tagged) & take care of yourselves ! dm me if you need to talk to anyone, love you all <3

@pizzaapeteer @mattheosdior @tateshifts @iris-qt @helendeath @yikesitslush @fluffycookies22 @princesspeachthefroggy @fbvreadingblog @lonelydesks @dexoq @deadghosy @reys-letters

[tunatoge]

pairing: teen!s. gojo x fem!reader (use of "mom")

contents: gojo fucks up tsumiki's talent show (whoopsies!), mention of smoking and swear words, slight slut shaming

“my parents are really cool—uh, hi mom… hi, satoru,” tsumiki announces to the group of students and parents during her talent show. you glance at gojo who holds his phone up like a proud dad, recording the entire thing as he gives tsumiki a thumbs up. “and they helped me with this,” she adds as she wrings her hands. “this is for you guys… and megumi.” 

you giggle as megumi shifts in his seat, his cheeks a soft pink. you stop laughing when an explicit song starts playing from the auditorium’s stereo system, tsumiki awkwardly dancing on stage to the music. you snap your head towards gojo, your mouth agape. gojo stands up as he whoops and hollers, still recording tsumiki. 

“that’s my daughter!” he shouts as parents rush to cover their kids’ ears. “yeah, tsumiki! you’re doing great!” 

you cover megumi’s ears as you step down on gojo’s right foot. “satoru,” you hiss angrily, watching from the corner of your eye as the school staff struggle to pause the music. “what the fuck is this?” 

he looks at you, his blue eyes practically glowing in the dimly lit room. “what? it’s a good song!” he insists. 

“yeah,” you say as the music pauses and tsumiki bows before skipping away. “for people our age while we’re out clubbing and drinking! that was so inappropriate for kids!” 

satoru sits down next to you, ignoring the way the other parents glare at him and curse him out under their breath. “she told me she wanted to stick out so i told her i knew what to do!” 

you frown and you uncup your hands from megumi’s ears. he glares at gojo with you, easily knowing gojo fucked up. 

“i thought we agreed you’d stop helping the kids with their talent shows after you told megumi that using jujutsu for a magic show was a good idea,” you hiss, briefly turning around and apologizing to the angry mom behind you who kicks at your feet. 

“god,” the mom hisses after seeing your face, “of course it’s some stupid teen parents.” 

you frown at her words, keeping megumi from jumping up and attempting to fight the lady. you excuse yourself, squeezing past knees as they look at you and glare. 

“did you hear what that little girl said?” someone whispers to their partner as you walk by. “she said mom and satoru, not dad. that’s gotta be one messed up family.” they snicker. 

you grit your teeth as you move towards the exit, quietly squeezing out the door and pulling a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. you always knew you and gojo were going to face backlash for raising tsumiki and megumi while being kids yourselves, but you never thought you’d be facing it yourself after the kids had taken to calling you mom and refused to call satoru dad. you sigh and move away from the school building, taking a cigarette between your lips. you dig around for your zippo, frowning when you can’t find it. 

“i thought we agreed you’d stop smoking,” gojo says behind you. you look up at him, tsumiki in his arms and megumi next to him. 

you swallow as you place the cigarette back in its box. “not like i could’ve smoked it anyway,” you say as you take megumi’s hand in yours and walk towards the car. “i lost my lighter, the one suguru gave me.” 

“i have it.” you look at gojo as he digs around in his pocket and pulls out your tarnished silver zippo lighter. he flips it around and around in his hands, index finger gently running over the engraving on its side. “hand me your cigarettes and i’ll give it back to you.” 

you sigh as you unlock the car door and situate megumi into his car seat. “i don’t need it if i’m not smoking.” you buckle megumi in and gently ruffle his hair before shutting the door. 

gojo sighs as he sets tsumiki in the car and shuts the door. “what’s wrong?” he asks, rounding the car and taking your elbows into his overly large palms. he smooths them up your triceps, touch airy and light. “you only ever feel the need to smoke when something’s bothering you.” 

you sigh as you lean into his touch. “i’m just tired of people assuming i’m some whore who spreads their legs for anyone. it really hurts when parents look at me with so much disgust when tsumiki or megumi call me mom.” you lean forward and press your forehead into gojo’s firm chest. 

“y’know,” gojo starts as he rests his chin in your hair, “those parents probably would have never stepped up like you did. you gave up the rest of your childhood for theirs and those stupid adults will never know that.” he pulls away and carefully looks you in the eye. “they can assume as much as they want, pretty, because the four of us know the truth and the truth is much stronger.” 

you let out a choked laugh as you press your head back into his chest. “yeah, you’re right. they’re just some stupid old people.” 

gojo laughs as he fully wraps his arms around you, rocking you back and forth in the parking lot of tsumiki’s school. 

megumi swings his door open. “can we go home now?” he calls. “tsumiki’s tired.” 

you laugh as you pull away from gojo and wipe at your eyes. “yes, we can,” you respond, digging in your pockets and handing gojo your cigarettes. he smiles and hands you your zippo in return. “mom’s gotta have a long talk with dad once we get there.” 

gojo grins at the way you laugh at megumi’s scrunched up face. he’s thoroughly glad that it was you who stepped up with him.

[chris-slut]

𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ! 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

pairing. bsf!chris x fem!reader.

summary. even thought you and chris are best friends, you don’t want eachother to see nobody else.

warnings. pet names, kissing, use of ‘y/n’, blow job, face fucking, no actual p in v, jealousy.

a/n. based off ‘boyfriend’ by ariana grande.

you and chris are bestfriend’s and there is nothing that could ever change that. or so you thought.

it was regular for you and chris to go out to parties and wander off to other people for the rest of the night, but one night in specific you see chris’s jaw clenched as he watches you grind up against a random dude.

your eyes wander to his hands. chris had them gripped against the couch as he watched you dance up on him. you could visibly tell he was pissed— he sucked at hiding how he felt.

a smirk appears on your face as his eyes trail down your figure. noticing him do this, you decide to put your back against the guys chest and run your hands along his biceps.

and that was it. chris snaps, standing up and rushing over to you and the dude. “chris—“ you go to say, but before you could finished your being dragged up to a random bedroom.

“really? what the fuck was that little show you were putting on?” chris yells slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair. he closes the door and locks it before anyone could come in. your eyes begin to fill with worry. “what do you mean?” you ask, your eyes meeting his. he’s hovered over you while his chain is dangling from his neck.

he lets out a scoff, “really? you know exactly what you were doing y/n.” and he was right, you absolutely knew you were doing. but why did it have an effect on him? it’s not like your anything serious.

his hands meet your waist. you feel your back slam against the wooden door as chris stares down at you. “i don’t like you dancing all over ‘em guys, just want you to myself,” he whispers. your eyes widen at what he says.

chris’s lips ghost over your’s. you know you want to, but you can’t. “please say you want this too,” he says as his hands run up and down your body. you open your mouth but nothing comes out. “y/n, please say something. i mean anything— even if it’s bad,” he tries to maintain eye contact with you but your eyes wander to a random wall in the room.

do you want this? fuck you want it more than anything of course. but should you do it? no. you know it’s gonna fuck everything up. but cmon, chris is standing in front of you ready to give you his all, can you really say no?

“i want it chris, more than you know..” you whisper. chris’s lips are now ghosting yours again. “can.. can i kiss you?” he asks. once he see’s you nod, his lips are against yours. at first neither of you wanted to move, but once you felt chris’s bulge press against you— your tongue’s were fighting for dominance.

chris runs his hand over your chest which causes a moan to slip past your lips. chris uses this as his chance— slipping his tongue into your mouth. you run your hands through his thick hair as he moves his mouth away from yours, now placing wet, sloppy kisses down your jawline and neck.

“please,” you mutter while feeling chris against you. “please what? gonna have to speak up f’me baby,” chris says while his hands are in your hair. too embarrassed to say it, you just plop down onto your knees in front of him. “go ahead,” he whispers. chris knew what you wanted and wasn’t gonna force you to say anything.

running your fingers against his silver belt, you finally take it off as you watch chris’s baggy jeans fall to the floor. he was big, you could tell. your fingers slide into his black boxers as you pull them down. you were right, he’s fuckin’ huge. your eyes look at his red tip that has pre-cum glistening on it. quickly spitting into your hand, you run it up and down his length and you rub your thumb against his sensitive tip.

“don’t be a fuckin’ tease,” he says while holding your hair up into a ponytail. not listening, you kitten lick his tip. chris rolls his eyes at this before slamming his cock down your throat. you feels tears swell up your eyes as he hits the back of your throat.

“just like that, so good f’me pretty girl,” chris says while his hips thrust forward. your hands rest against his thighs to try and tell him to slow down but he doesn’t. watching as chris’s eyes roll to the back of his head in pleasure as he fucks yoir mouth.

once he finally slows down, you jerk whatever couldn’t fit in your mouth before as you watch his reaction. chris’s hair was sticking to his forehead from the sweat since he never took his hoodie off. his grip on your hair tightens as he feels himself get closer.

your head bobs up and down, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. “mh- fuck! close!” chris whimpers loud, completely forgetting that you guys are at a party and almost anyone could hear you if they walked past the room.

once he looks down to see your face, tears swelling your eyes— saliva forming on the corners of your mouth— just everything, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. with one last thrust into your mouth chris releases. he throws his head back as he feels you slide his boxers and pants back up for him.

“y/n, one last thing—“ he says, watching you stand up. “what is it?” you ask while getting yourself situated to go back to the party. chris catches his breath before he says—“please don’t do this with anyone else, just wanna have you to myself.”

[rueclfer]

casual // touya todoroki part 2

when the boy you're in love with wants to keep it casual.

a/n: i was fighting for my life while writing this 😭 pray for her (and me while i write... part 3? HEHE)

part one part three

You made your way up the fire escape, the cold air and icy railing nipping at the bare skin of your neck and face for the short travel up a level.

From outside of his window, you took a second to admire the scene. Tenko was sitting criss crossed on the couch while cradling a beer in his lap, and directly across from him is Spinner on the ottoman with their switches out- in which you could only assume was playing super smash bros. Toga was at the kitchen bar taste testing Kurogiri's mixed drinks, and everyone else plus a few more unfamiliar faces were drunkenly draped over the couch, laughing at one another.

You continue peering around the room for Touya. No one else had noticed your presence outside the window quite yet.

"Looking for someone?" A deep voice snaps you from your search.

You look up to see Touya sitting on a step another level up.

"God, Touya." You shutter from the cold breeze. "What are you doing out here? It's freezing."

"Needed some air." He shrugs, crinkling a bottle of water in his hands. "Not going inside?"

You climb your way up to him, taking a seat right beside him. In the moonlight, his silver hair glowed blue, and at a closer look, the tip of his nose and cheeks were dusted with pink.

"Was just about to before you ambushed me." You smile at his tipsy state. "How much have you drank?" You pressed a hand to his cheek, making him melt into it from the warmth.

"Enough, and not enough at the same time." He chuckles, grabbing your remaining hand and pressing it against his other cheek.

"Fuck, you're warm." A sigh of relief escapes his lips.

"Can I kiss you?"

Fuck

You had just told Toga that you were done running in circles around him, but in this moment with the buzzing lamp post drilling into your head and his swollen lips mere inches from yours, it was almost an offer you couldn't turn down. Do you close the gap between you two and continue this charade or will you end it now?

In a perfect world, you wouldn't have to make this decision now- you wouldn't ever have to, but you loved him. Desperately.

You looked at him, deeply. His bloodshot and glossy eyes, an effect of the alcohol, were peering right into yours while waiting for your answer.

You could savor this forever- a rare moment where he's the one waiting for you.

After a beat of silence, he sensed your hesitation and leaned back, searching your face for an answer for your off behavior, because Touya knew that the answer would've always been a yes- undeniably so.

"What's wrong?"

I love you.

"Nothing." You force a reassuring smile. "Why?"

"I don't know. You looked like you were about to cry for a second there." He moves his hand to your face now, rubbing his ice cold thumbs against your cheek. "Maybe I'm just drunk." He smiles.

He pulls your head in to press a kiss on your hairline. "Also, I saw Fuyumi today. She said hey."

"I'll text her later." You couldn't help but feel a twinge of warmth knowing that you came up in conversation with his sister.

"Were you not gonna come tonight?"

"Hmmm I don't think so" You casually say "I was kinda busy, but the fomo was kicking."

"Works out in my favor." He chuckles. "You wanna go inside? Toga said she was expecting you."

He starts standing up, gripping onto the railing to stabilize himself. With his other hand, he extends it out for you.

"Yeah I owe her a shot. That is, if she's not already fucked up." You grab onto his hand and hoist yourself up.

"In that case, I'll cash in the shot in her place." He wraps his arm around your waist, helping you down the frosty steps.

Once you made it through the window, your body instantly warmed up with the thick air of the apartment. Across from the kitchen, Toga spots you and squeals to herself, motioning for you to come to her.

"Kurogiri's been showing me how to make drinks!" She grins, panning her arm to the array of mixed drinks and shots sitting on the counter.

"Christ, Toga who's going to drink all that?" Touya mutters behind you as he moves into the kitchen.

"Y/N and I, duh!" She rolls her eyes before passing you a glass with a shots worth of pale pink liquid.

You swallowed your hesitation and glanced over to Touya, who was leaning up against the refrigerator watching you with a slight smile.

Seeing his pretty face was not a good reminder for yourself as to why you were here in the first place. Nonetheless, you and Toga clink your glasses together and down the first shot.

You cough into your sleeve, letting the burn warm your skin and help settle into your nerves. You shoot her a warning glance when she slides another drink into your hands.

"Oh so you're trying to kill me tonight, huh?" You down the new drink, pinching your nose as the lukewarm liquid burns its way down your throat. You slide the empty glass to her just for her to replace it with more alcohol.

"If there's one way to cure a sad girl, it's alcohol." Toga clinks your glasses together before finishing off her's.

"I only promised you one shot!" You pushed the glass away. "I'm a lightweight, let me take a breather unless you want me on my ass in half an hour."

"Okay fine" She pouts. "Just finish this one and we'll stop."

You grimaced, but she shot you a knowing look. You needed this. You needed a night to not think and worry about repercussions later.

"Fuck you." You sigh, clinking your glass with her. "And I love you."

After the last shot, your head clouded and your skin went hot. You pulled out a bar stool to sit and propped your head in your hands, watching Toga and Kurogiri talk about the mixtures and types of alcohol they were experimenting with.

Maybe the last shot was overkill, but 3 shots in 5 minutes meant that you'll be sober in a couple hours? You hoped so, at least.

"If she starts throwing up, I'm gonna kick everyone out." Touya jokes.

"You think I'm done?" Toga starts. "Touya, you have to finish the rest of these drinks with me."

Touya kept his distance on the other side of the the kitchen, chatting and drinking with Kurogiri and Toga all while glancing your way every now and then.

You were confident that everyone in this apartment knew about your entanglement with Touya, but with any outings and functions, PDA and other romantic gestures were kept to a minimum. You kept your distance, but this last shot started to feel like you needed a moment alone with Touya.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

At some point when the alcohol had fully settled in your stomach, you decided to get up and wander around the apartment while everyone else was occupied.

You slowly go through the main hallway, looking at the framed band posters hung up that you had seen about a hundred times.

At the end of the hall, there was your favorite piece of decoration he had- a framed photo of him and his high school garage band at one of their practices. His hair was dyed midnight black and his jeans were all sorts of torn up and embellished with spikes and chains. Every time you came over, you had to look at it at least once. You always told him that you wished you met him at this age, and that he could've broken your heart, but he insists that he would've never been able to pull you in the first place.

You continue your walk, staying close to the wall to keep your balance before you finally made it to his bedroom. You step in and takes deep breath, savoring the crisp pine and green apple that lingered from his cologne.

If you had been sober, you probably wouldn't be bold enough to sneak off to his bedroom in the middle of the get together, but you were sure that he would rather you lay in his bed than the bathroom floor.

You flop down and close your eyes for a moment of solitude. You made a mental note to curse Toga out for getting you this tipsy when it was only supposed to be one drink.

"How did I know I could find you here?"

You instantly recognized the voice and the chuckle that paired with it.

"Shut up." You muttered, keeping your eyes closed. "If you didn't let me drink so much, I wouldn't have to crash here."

"So sorry, pretty girl. My fault." You feel the bed shift as he crawls onto the bed to sit beside you. "I brought something for you."

You open your eyes and sit up to see him holding out a red solo cup. You shoot him a glare.

"It's water, before you say anything."

You release a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

You downed the water in one go, letting the cold liquid bring you back to life. You lean over to set the empty cup on his bedside table before letting yourself lay back down. Touya follows suit, propping himself up on his elbow.

"You feeling okay?" He brings his hand up to your cheek, lightly brushing away stray hairs.

You nodded your head, letting yourself soak in his light touches. Looking up at him from this angle made your stomach twist. You reached up and held his hand on your cheek, letting your thumb brush over his knuckles.

"Can I have a kiss?" You turned towards him, propping yourself up to face him.

He smiles and leans in, pressing a soft and gentle kisses on your lips and cheeks.

"Should I kick everyone out?" He whispers between kisses. "Just you and me tonight. I'll take care of you."

"Aren't you drunk too?" You prop yourself up, leaning over him and making him fall back on the bed.

"Yeah but not multiple-shots-in-the-span-of-2-seconds drunk like you."

You drag your finger down his nose bridge, tracing it down to his lips where he gives your finger a kiss. You replace your finger with you own lips, letting your hand fall to cup the side of his neck.

"Say the word and all of those fuckers will be out of here." He silently mutters against your lips.

In your mind, you were screaming at yourself. You wanted the night with him, but you couldn't bear doing this to yourself anymore. Every night spent with him and watching him leave through your window made your self worth crumble bit by bit.

"Enticing offer." You smile, sitting upright now. "But I think I might have to throw up."

His eyes widen in fear. "And you're telling me this now?"

He sits up and hops off the bed, pulls you off with him by the arms. "Idiot. Sweet, beautiful idiot." He presses a kiss to your temple before ushering you to his bathroom.

He helps you kneel down in front of the toilet before running out to grab more water.

You sit there for a moment before dry heaving into the toilet a few times. Nothing. With every cough, you cringed at yourself. Here you were, at a party you didn't even want to go to, gagging in the bathroom of someone who doesn't love you back.

You knew you truly didn't have to throw up, maybe just gag it out a bit, but you mainly needed to step away from Touya to clear your mind. Tomorrow, when you would have to tell Toga about how you folded is going to be a whole separate issue for you after tonight.

In the corner of your eye, you saw a glistening black rectangular object lay next to his trash can. You reach over to grab it, revealing itself to be a tube of berry red lipstick. You felt sick to your stomach, but for a different reason now.

In your drunken state and the alcohol running through your veins, you felt yourself choking up with tears. You knew you weren't the only one, but now that it was right in your face, there was no more pretending that you were. God, how stupid you felt.

"Get it together, Y/N. It was never going to work out." You thought to yourself.

You began to stand up, stumbling while doing so. Right as you steady yourself on the the door frame, Touya comes back in with a glass of water in his hands.

"Done already?" He asked, peering over your shoulder to see the damage.

You say nothing and move around him to get pass He sets the glass down and grabs your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"Where are you going?" His eyes widened once he see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"What's wrong?" He says a bit quieter.

You choked out a laugh before showing him the object in your palm. "One of your girlfriends left this."

He gives you a puzzled look. "Okay? And you're upset over this? Why?"

"Are you serious, Touya? You're asking me why I'm upset over finding another girl's lipstick in your bathroom." You purse your lips,

He runs a hand through his hair, and releases a long sigh of air. "Y/N. This thing between us...it's casual. You know that. You can't get mad at me for that when we both agreed to it."

"Casual?" You spit back. "Is it casual that you're always coming to my window at 12am to fuck and talk about our futures? Is it casual when your siblings invite me over for dinner? Is it casual when you leave your front door open for me?" You exclaim. "It just doesn't make sense to me."

You storm out of his room to find that his apartment empty of your friends. He wasn't lying earlier, after all.

"Come on, Y/N." He follows you out "We were friends before anything else. In the beginning, Toga told me that you had a little crush on me, and I thought it was cute, but I didn't think it would turn out like this."

You make your way to the window, almost ready to jump out from embarrassment. A crush.. a little crush.

You rub your face in your hands. "You see, that's the problem, Touya. I think I'm in love with you, and you think I'm cute. Is it still casual?"

You step out onto the fire escape, and look back at him. This whole time you were avoiding his gaze, but there he was, his eyes wide and mouth gaped open watching you disappear from his fire escape for the last time.

tags: @bumblebeebutter @whitneys-favorite-slut @randomrosie01 @yuwuuta @raquel-star @the2ndl @vixendeery

[qwimblenorrisstan]

ACOTAR Masterlist

🥀 = Angst 🌼 = Fluff

🌸 = Comfort 🌹 = Smut

Request Guidelines

Azriel

~ Free Fall | Azriel x Angel!Reader 🌼

Summary: After you fell from the sky into his arms, Azriel finds you as his mate, and finally introduced you to his family.

Part 1 | Part 2

~ Blood Red | Azriel x Cassian’sister!Reader 🥀🌹🌸

Summary: After both you and Azriel are left, abandoned and replaced by those close to you, you find company with him in a night of drunken lust, only for old secrets to be unburied in the morning along with a mating bond.

~ Kindred Spirits | Azriel x Rhys’daughter!Reader 🌸🌹

Summary: Amidst Starfall, Azriel discovers that he has a mating bond with you, Rhysand’s daughter, and after pleading his case, he gets to spend some quality time with you at the cabin.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~ Candles and Cuddles | Azriel x Reader 🌸🌼

Summary: You take Azriel to get a personal wax mold of your hands intertwined, and after overcoming insecurity, settle into each other’s warm embrace.

~ The Clandestine Culinarian | Azriel x Reader 🥀

Summary: Azriel requires a deadly poison, and the only place he can get acquire it is through a bakery in Hewn City, and in the process grows closer to you, the owner of the shop, and is there for you when tragedy strikes.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

~ Snow Bunny | Azriel x Reader 🌼🌹

Summary: After the bat boys enjoy their annual snowball fight, in which Azriel wins, he gets the best prize of all, a night alone with his mate.

~ Short Drabble | Azriel x Reader 🌼

Summary: Sleepy mornings with your mate.

~ Catch of the Eye | Azriel x Hippy!Reader🌼

Summary: After you moved into Velaris, your bright demeanor and clothing seemed to demand Azriel’s attention, as well as the rumors of the Princess of Autumn’s disappearance.

~ Dawn Daydreams | Azriel x Peregryn!Reader🌼🌹

Summary: While visiting Dawn Court with his High Lord and Lady for political relations, Azriel finds himself falling for you, Thesan’s sister, from a distance, only for the bond to snap in the middle of the High Lord’s meeting.

~ Home, At Last | Azriel & WitchDaughter!Reader🥀🌸

Summary: Unbeknownst to Azriel, an encounter he had with a witch nearly three centuries ago will come back to haunt him when his shadows begin speaking of you, his “daughter”, a witch in danger of being thrown out of her coven.

~ Glimmering Shadows | Azriel x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: While visiting Spring Court on political business with Rhys, Azriel meets you, a Faerie with little glimmering sparks that help you in the same way his shadows help him, and he decides that visiting you a few more times afterwards couldn’t hurt.

Part 1 | Part 2

~ Wine-Nights And Shadow-Sneezes🌼🌼

Summary: You are an artist in Velaris, and a popular one at that, leading you to befriend Feyre. She invites you over to drink wine with her, only for you to later be left alone with Azriel as he confesses something he never thought he would.

~ A Silver Storm | HockeyPlayer!Azriel x FigureSkater!Reader🥀🌼

Summary: Shortly after moving to a new school for better opportunities in figure skating, you meet Rhys, Cassian, Azriel and Feyre. After accidentally getting you in trouble with a teacher, Rhys invites you to a party to make up for it, and at the party you and Azriel end up getting a lot closer than you would’ve imagined.

~ Insufficient | Azriel/Eris x Reader 🥀🥀

Summary: After a few months of dating, your relationship begins to crack, and the truth behind Azriel’s odd behavior comes out.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~ To Be Known | Azriel x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: You’ve always been afraid to confess to Azriel about your feelings for him, but after a hookup gone wrong, everything begins falling apart, and he’s there to pick up the pieces.

~ Subservient | Azriel x Orphan!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Rhys’ reputation in Hewn City is less than stellar, so when an orphanage becomes overwhelmed, he offers to take some in. His plan doesn’t turn out how he expected when he’s instead sent you, an employee there, sent to scope Rhys out before sending children to him. And in true High Lord fashion, he unceremoniously dumps you off on his brothers.

~ Treason | Azriel x Reader 🥀🥀

Cassian

~ Put Back Together | Cassian x Nurse!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: After the recent attack on Velaris, you, a nurse, find yourself struggling with all the death surrounding you. However, Cassian is always there to put you back together.

~ Just This Once | Cassian x Witch!Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: After a witch has been discovered in Windhaven, Cassian has been sent to bring the creature back, and ‘domesticate’ her, according to Rhys. It proves a difficult task, but he soon discovers that you aren’t as ‘strong and independent’ as you seem.

~ Cassian Hc’s 🌸🌼

Summary: How Cassian would interact and care for you, his teenage daughter.

~ Loving Lies | Cassian x Reader 🌸

Summary: Only a few days after the war with Hybern ends, Cassian discovers that you, the “male” that’s been his Second in Command for nearly a decade, are a female in disguise.

~ Beach Day | Cassian x Reader🌼🌼

Summary: During a lengthy visit to Day Court with the Inner Circle, so Rhys and Feyre can discuss political matters with Helion, you and the Inner Circle find more entertaining things to do, such as have a beach day.

~ Lazy Sunday | Cassian x Reader 🌹🌼

Summary: Lazy mornings with Cassian don’t always go as planned. Today is one of those days.

~ Blizzard | Cassian x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: During one of the worst storms in Illyria, Cassian, of course, decides to visit you and travel through said storm.

~ Bloody Cuddles | Cassian x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Cassian has no where else to go except to you when he shows up at your door in the middle of the night, beaten and bloodied.

Rhysand

~ Never Again | Rhysand x Reader 🥀🌸

Summary: Rhys has been too caught up in his work lately, not giving you any of his time. After forgetting the date you'd both scheduled tonight, that was the last straw, and you go out with Azriel instead, only for Rhys to plead for your forgiveness.

~ Dreamers | Rhysand & Daughter!Reader🥀🌸

Summary: After Madja is away in business for two months, he has to find a healer to replace her in her absence, which happens to be you, his bastard daughter, and unbeknownst to him, Azriel’s mate.

~ Saving Grace | Rhysand x Reader 🥀

Summary: The war between humans and Fae is about to happen, and you, desperate to save Autumn Court, your home, from the destruction to come, are going to attempt a political alliance with the current High Lord of Night Court’s son, Rhysand.

~ Reaching | Rhysand x Reader 🥀🥀

Summary: Your mate isn't the same after coming home from Under the Mountain, but despite how frustrated you get, you'll keep reaching out your hand.

Poly!Bat Boys x Reader

~ Insatiable | Bat Boys x Reader 🌹🌹

Summary: Rhys didn’t expect you, his mate, to have so much energy when the frenzy began, leaving him worn out, and so he calls Cassian and Azriel to come assist him.

~ Meaningful Mistakes | Azriel x Cassian x Reader🌹🌼

Summary: After what you had thought to only be a simple one night stand with Cassian and Azriel, you discover that you’re pregnant, and while delivering the news, the bond between the three of you snaps.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

~ Bondage w/ Bat Boys Drabble 🌹🌹

~ Cocooned | Cassian x Reader x Azriel 🥀🌼

Summary: During a storm, you cuddle up with Cassian, and reminisce about Azriel.

Eris Vanserra

~ A New Dawn | Eris x Reader 🥀🌼

Summary: Feyre grows closer to you, a close friend of Lucien’s, as you visit him while she’s in Spring Court. During that time, she learns of you being given to Eris as a servant by Amarantha, but no one could’ve suspected how deep the relationship between you and the Autumn Court heir went.

~ An Exchange in Etiquette | Eris x Reader 🌼🥀

Summary: When a poorly mannered royal his age shows up at the ball, teenage Eris can’t help but take pity on her, offering a deal, that he give her a lesson in etiquette, in exchange for a lesson in defiance.

Lucien Vanserra

~ Missing You | Lucien x Reader 🌸🌹

Summary: After coming back home from a long trip to Autumn Court due to his emissary duties, Lucien is exhausted, but still more than willing for whatever touch you’ll give him.

~ Distractions | Lucien x Reader 🌹

Summary: You’re struggling to write the script for the next chapter of your novel due to overthinking and self-doubt, and Lucien knows exactly how to distract you from it.

~ Onesies | Lucien x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: A girl’s night with Feyre, Elain and the Valkyries leads to your mate being stuffed into a onesie much too small for him.

~ Unveiled | Lucien x Reader 🌸🌹

Summary: You find yourself insecure one afternoon while going out with Rhys and Feyre with Lucien, and your mate seems to have picked up a few suggestions from the Illyrian.

Elain Archeron

~ Allergies | Elain x Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: Elain wants to visit the new cat cafe in Velaris, but can’t because of your allergies, so she comes up with a creative solution…

Nesta Archeron

~ Bewitched | Nesta x/& Reader 🌼🌼

Summary: Nyx’s Halloween costume doesn’t fit; you and Nesta have a solution.

[bluerosefox]

Bellatrix Star

A TaliaxDanny idea that came to me.

Damian, Bruce, and the rest of the bats discover the Talia al Ghul they had been fighting against, the one that cloned her own son, had the clone kill him, plant a control device in him when he broke his spine, etc etc was actually not the real Talia al Ghul.

Turned out Ra's had cloned her and killed the original when she discovered his little plans to take over Damain's body and she confronted him about it. Ra's had to make a clone when after tossing a dead Talia into the pits but never returned (he meant to kill her as a warning, as a "you may be my blood but will not hesitate to end you Talia.") It explains so much to Damian when remembers how out of nowhere his mother changed, her training him changed from harsh to deadly, the soft motherly love she would give him when behind closed doors suddenly stopped, the tales she would spin for him about his father no longer whispered to him for bed.

How this was find out?

Well it's hard to ignore the facts that when your foolish grandfather in his quest for immortality summons an eldritch being known as the Ghost King into the Mortal Realm and uses Damian as a sacrifice while his (not) mother watches emotionless.

When the being appeared, plunging the room from green glowing flames and the glow of the Lazarus Pits into darkness before a cosmos exploded to life, its glowing green eyes snapped open in the stars and stared at them all. Making every single one of them feel small, so very small.

It took a single glance around the room before stopping on the al Ghul's. It's eyes widen before a steel and firm look entered them. Just as quick as the cosmos sprang to life, it suddenly swirled away into a ball, putting them all back into the Lazarus room,and reformed in front of them to a more humanish height and body.

When the body, around the height and build of Batman, was done forming it took a step forward and suddenly as one blinked a man stood in front of them. Or rather floated. Snow white hair that flickered and wisped towards a crown made of fire and ice, glowing green eyes that held none of the madness but all of the power the Lazarus Pits could give. His clothing were tailored made that were tastefully a mixture of black and white with some silvers and greens, clothes fit for a King one would say. The cosmos that once engulfed the room had shifted into a cloak that hanged around his body, on one side more than the other (think like how CW wears his only the hood is down).

This, this was no doubt the Ghost King, he stood tall and regal and made everyone in the room feel the need to look down, to bow ones head for even just a moment. Even Ra's had trouble disobeying the urge to do so.

"Well..." the being said, his voice deep but not as gravely as Batman's was "What an interesting way to meet my In-Laws and Step-Son..."

He has said that as he looked towards the al Ghul's. Damian flinched back with a frown of confusion and disbelief while Ra's looked panicked for a second when the words registered into his mind, meanwhile Talia... looked emotionless and barely even twitched.

"What the fu-?" Someone began only to stop when the King lifted his hand and with a snap of his fingers a green portal appeared, it looked almost like the Lazarus Pits but it felt... cleaner? Less angry?

"My Bellatrix, my warrior star. I believe I've been summoned to your home dimension. And judging by the looks of it your father created a barely functioning Mirror of you and planned on using your son as a sacrifice to me." He spoke out towards the portal before holding his hand out.

A hand appeared from the portal, a slender hand and with green and black painted nails manicure to perfection before someone walked through it as they took hold of the Ghost King's offering hand.

Standing in front of them was another Talia, only this one looked a tad older than the one in the room. She wore clothing that matched the King to a T but even then, as always, Talia looked deadly in it. Beautiful but very deadly. From the heels she wore to the crown upon her head, a crown made of not ice and fire but of stars and black jewels. Her eyes were sharp as she stared at everyone in the room, frown on her painted lips, but her eyes lit with a small soft joy when she saw Damian only for them to turn poisonous when they landed on Ra's and the other Talia nearby.

"I should had know you would had created a Mirror of me instead of admitting to my son you killed me Father." Queen Talia spat out. "The least you could had done was not make my Mirror so cheaply, it doesn't even have a proper soul attached to it."

[strawberrymochin]

Crown prince!gojo who has met you on his little sneak trip out of the imperial palace. He saw you lone scrubbing on a piece of silk, as slow tears trailed down your chin.

“does washing a single piece of silk cause you such great sadness?” his tone startled you, lacing with a hint of sarcasm.

You take a look on his stunning majestic brocade, and shiny silk robes, his hair tied up with a silver hair piece in which delicate blue crystals sparkled the evening sun. His attire suggested audience, unable to conceal his blood rank.

“i expect nothing from you to understand who hasn't even worked himself for a single day.” you made a snarky comment, frustrated from the overflowing tasks given by your mistress. You cared any less for pleasing or showing any respect for an notable rank.

Crown prince!gojo who had never been spoken so harshly with a taunt in air, had spiked his interests. After your abrupt leave, he got his attendants to search for you. And the next thing you know, is that you are summoned in the imperial palace to serve his highness who has requested you from the household you work in.

You who had never met any royals, and no idea who the mighty crown prince, taking over the kingdom after his father looked like, had your colour drained from your face after a single look at him.

He looked cunning with his azure eyes as his white hair, was now tied up in a knot, white robes with blue brocade and a belt of silk wrapped around his waist, which shone in the reflecting lights from the courtyard where you were summoned in.

“your highness" you bowed, your brow touching the grounds, mentally cursing your tongue to have provoked him the last day. God knows what he might ask you to do. Worse even your life being snatched away.

Crown prince!gojo who tells you to rise your head up, dismissing his attendants, now his smile looking more of mischievous. “you shifted your personality with such measures I'm impressed,” his lips creak a bit, but as of incredulity.

Crown prince!gojo who grinned even more when you unable to keep your composure snap at him. He wants you to be his companion, learning by his side before he assumes his court duties.

Crown prince!gojo who confesses to you the night you beat him in sword fight after almost 2 years spending day and night with you. Falling even more every single day.

Crown prince!gojo who clasps your hand to his chest while kissing you, under the solicitude of moonlight.

Crown prince!gojo who tells you he wanted to kiss you for so long, that his heart burned with agony.

Crown prince!gojo whose eyes darkens everytime he sees you taking with captain!geto from afar during your war practice sessions.

Crown prince!gojo who gifts you a tassal woven by him with tear drops of jades dangling from it, which is enchanted and protects you from all harms.

Crown prince!gojo whose dull eyes avoids yours during the entire crowning ceremony, face looking pale at the moment the emperor announces his betrothal to a princess of another strong kingdom.

It stabbed your heart, smeared it into Shards of glass and if you were tranced by an enchantment, you also joined the crowd praising the holy couple soon to be married.

Your throat felt dry as your heart burnt with rage. That's when finally his eyes meet yours—knowing very well this is the last time you see it.

Crown prince!gojo who cries himself to sleep as you left to join the army, never returning back to the imperial palace, as his companion anymore.

Crown prince!gojo whose heart thunders in his chest as whenever he learns you were about on a mission to fight with dangerous monsters.

Crown prince!gojo who sneaks in your room to heal your injuries with his magic, before any healer appears.

Crown prince!gojo who gets annoyed at the appearance of captain!geto, who came to check up on you.

Gojo's gaze steady upon geto as he entered the room nonchalantly, obvious to the tension in the air. He knows it rages the prince whenever he talks to you. And you know what? your captain loves to feast upon what others can't have. Especially in this case the we are talking about his highness Prince. How could he not lace his finger with you only to see prince gojo's fists rolling into balls as veins popped out on his jaw.

Crown prince!gojo who takes his leave, dismal as he exchanges cold glances with captain!geto.

This is terrible. You thought.

A/n- and it's fun for me. Lol. Shall I continue this with captain!geto?

[queers-gambit]

Bait and Switch

prompt: ( requested ) Adar knows you by surname and reputation, but makes a fatal mistake: underestimating the mutual desire to reunite with your husband.

pairing: Elrond x female!wife!reader -> hair color specified reader that does not specify race

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 7.7k+

note: did i steal the Targaryen hair color? "obviously," - Severus Snape. but don't let HOTD's wigs fool you - this hair color is NOT indicative of race.

warnings: reader insert for the haters, spoilers, cursing, angst, hurt and comfort, fuck tone of ellipsis 'cause Adar talks slow. POW!Reader (prisoner of war), violence, blood, injury, depiction of medical phenomenon (cauterization), slight gore (Reader bites off an Orc finger). healthy family dynamics, embedded Aragorn quote, Middle-earth fire is hotter than reality so JUST. roll. with. it. okay? okay. also, this requires a lot of imagination 'cause author invents really random lore but have fun with it. not edited, author can't see straight so what the fuck is this?

incarnate: embody or represent (a diety or spirit) in human form

"We found an Elf still alive, Lord Father!"

Adar watched lazily as one of his children stood over a body covered by toxic volcanic ash; twitching as it regained consciousness. "Kill it," he answered simply. The Orc snarled in pleasure and bent to grab the Elf's head; gripping their hair aggressively, yanking their head up - possibly snapping the Elf's spine - and lifted his blade in the air. However, the clump of hair was familiar and suddenly, Adar was barking, "Wait!"

Not many Elves had this particular hair color. It was dyed from soot and ash, but he could recognize the bright, platinum white-blonde hair. While some Elves were extremely fair yellow-blonde, this was white - like the purest of snows. And Adar only knew this trait belonged to one single bloodline.

The Incarnated, a single brood blessed by the Valar to give them unnatural strength and skill in battle. They were impressive, formidable foes; and typically, never lost a fight, battle, or war. They were absolutely brutish, almost impossible to kill, yet humble, generous, and kind.

Their aim always found the bullseye. Broadswords able to sever bone. Morality skewed more positive than simple neutrality. Silver tongues sharpened to prick the ears that listen.

However, it should be noted that even the Incarnated cannot withstand against the eruption of a volcano.

The Orc snarled with confusion now, hissing through his bloody teeth but not lowering the Elf. Adar strolled over, glaring at their captive, but slowly lowering himself to a squat as the Orc presented his finding. Adar's eyes squinted, reaching out and musing the trademark locks out of the Elf's face; smirking as he caressed her cheek free of ash.

He growled your name, sight still hazy from the eruption of what will later be known as Mount Doom - yet could still recognize sounds. Slowly, you blinked and tried to focus, groaning as pain in your scalp burned and prickled; spine bowed from the horribly painful position.

"Adar?" You whispered in confusion.

"You remember me."

You scoffed, slurring slightly, "You left quite a lasting impression."

His hand dropped to push hair from your neck and shoulder, revealing a long blemish from his dagger years ago. "And here we meet yet again," Adar chuckled. "Release her," he told his child, who instantly dropped you with a grunt; ash puffing up on impact. "Come," Adar offered his hand as you tried to sit up with trembling limbs, "we've still farther to go."

"Fuck you," you seethed, spitting at him; ready for the pain to end after the displacement and turmoil of your people. You had been with the Númenoreans, along with Commander Galadriel, and this... "King" Halbrand; celebrating victory against Adar's first volley of Orcs when the explosion happened; spewing toxicity into the earth, through the air, and evidently, over the area to distinguish what will be known as Mordor.

"Hm," Adar considered your weak form, chuckling. "Get her up," he commanded, standing, and watching as chains were slapped to your wrists and ankles before being tossed into a bloody, maggot-infested, wood-rotting wagon.

Seemingly eons away, Elrond was being informed of your assumed demise. Your husband refused to believe it, but by the solemn look of the messenger, his greatest companion, Galadriel, he knew there was weighted truth to her words.

"Did you see her?" Elrond asked.

"See her fall? No - "

"Did you even look for her?"

"Of course we did, but it was too dangerous to linger longer than what we'd been there for."

Elrond's head shook, "No. No... I won't believe it - "

"I know it's difficult to accept, but... She's gone, Elrond."

"I would know if my wife is dead," Elrond snarled uncharacteristically. "Believe what you wish, but I know she still lives."

Galadriel knew better than to argue; she, herself, spent years of denial after Sauron murdered her brother, Finrod. So she gave Elrond space to process what he'd learned.

Yet while a circumstantially redeeming quality, Elrond was stubborn and confident in his morals and opinions. So, he refused to believe your life was lost; something in his gut twisted knowingly, assuring you were just misplaced and surely, soon to be home. Elrond knew you had a flair for the dramatic, so, he just prayed this was one of those times - where you wouldn't reappear until the very last second to make an entrance.

Yet Adar took every precaution to ensure you did not escape or could be rescued. He didn't parade you around, he kept you hidden away to prevent gossip from revealing your location. You were constantly left chained to posts by rusting irons, no comfort offered, no reprieve; nothing to pass your annoying suffering a little easier. You were fed just enough to be kept alive, you were allowed to wash yourself with a single cloth every few weeks - but typically with an Orcish audience watching, claiming they're "on duty". You lost use of your tongue after so many months had passed without a single indication aid had been deployed - hope shattered and futile.

You wondered if Elrond knew. You worried he thought you lost to the war. In vain, you prayed he didn't give up on you. However, you were logical and logic screamed at you that nobody would come - there was no point! You would've believed being told someone perished, too, if you heard of such circumstances.

Despite being an Incarnated, you were emotionally drained. Though, it's worth noting that under normal circumstances, you would've NEVER ended up in this position; but because of your vulnerable state and the opportunity was too good to pass up, Adar prided himself on "defeating you". He didn't know that you were beyond patient; waiting, observing, listening, leaning routines and schedules. Any opportunity you identified, you searched for anything that could help you escape; something sharp, small enough to pick the lock of your irons. You were Incarnated - your will to survive (even out of pure spite) rivaled that of any enemy.

Camp to camp, you were moved. Day by day, you lost a little more sanity. Nights grew cold, days short.

You were surprised when a pair of Orcs lumbered into "your" room, unlocking you from the post but keeping the chains on your wrists in place. They yanked you behind them, shoved you into Adar's tented shelter then forced you to your knees before the food-filled banquet table.

"And of course, there's her," Adar waved at you lazily, smirking when his newest prisoner of war sat forward with a gobsmacked expression.

She whispered your name, head snapping up to find your companion, Commander Galadriel, sat at the opposite head of the table to Adar. You smiled slightly and whispered her name softly, aware of your appearance and how straggly, despondent, and wary you must look.

"What is the meaning of this?" Galadriel demanded, the emotion in her thick voice making it crack.

"We found her," Adar smirked, "after you and your people abandoned her."

"We did not - "

"She's been... An honored guest of ours," Adar cut Galadriel off. "Her hair - it's a rare trait, I knew who she was when she was found. Figured she could truly help... Turn the tides in this war."

"You do not know what you've done," Galadriel breathed. "If her kin knew you held her, they would raze your camp into the dirt and return your children to darkness."

"You think... I do not understand the risks of holding an Incarnated? I have faced them before, known their wrath... But against Sauron, it was a necessary risk to take."

"Why?"

"You must see," Adar explained, "that it is not His lies which must be extinguished. It. Is. Him." He paused, revealing, "And I can help you do it." Adar leaned forward in his chair, "I can help you destroy Sauron, and should you value your friend's life, you will let me help you."

"What help could you possibly provide, Orc?" Galadriel spat, now leaned back casually in the chair Adar sat her in.

"Uruk," Adar corrected in Black Speech, standing from his seat to venture towards the side of the room. He stood before a plain wooden box, lifting the lid, and revealing in his hands:

"Morgoth's crown," Galadriel sat up. "I was told - "

"There are many stories of what happened after the Silmarils were pried from its setting," Adar validated. "But I was there when Sauron re-fired it to fit Himself. I was there when He kneeled to be crowned. And I was the one who used its power to slay Him."

Adar set the crown to the table, your stomach growling at the sight and smell of full platters.

"If what you say is true... Why did He return?" Galadriel asked.

"Because I had not yet found you, as I have her," he gestured at you.

"What part are we to play in this?"

"It is said the Three Elven Rings saved your people from fading. Is it true?" When Galadriel didn't answer, Adar nodded at one of his children standing over you; making the Orc bash you in the temple. "Is it true?" Adar repeated over your whimper of pain.

"Yes," Galadriel grit, glaring at the small dribble of fresh blood dripping down the side of your face. She decided red wasn't your color - no matter how much your husband liked seeing you in it.

"Then perhaps... Together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever. The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp... But I know he hides in Eregion. And I suspect you know for certain... Halbrand is Sauron... Isn't he?"

You laughed a little, "Halbrand? Sauron? Come off it, you're mistaken. Go on, Commander, tell him - tell him." Galadriel was silent as she was overwhelmed by her memories. "Commander, tell him he's wrong! Halbrand isn't Sauron, tell him he's mistaken!"

Adar mistook the silence as her being defiant, nodding to his son again in permission. So, the Orc swiftly backhanded you with enough force, it literally toppled you backwards with a groan.

"I kept her alive... For you," Adar growled, bearing his teeth at the Elleth. "But I'll execute her at nightfall if you continue down this path of resistance. The fate of that city and your friend now rests on your ability to put aside your pride." Galadriel's teary eyes casted over you, sprawled out on the floor - not finding the use in sitting up to your knees again. "I suggest you find the will to do so... If you can, for everyone's sake." Adar removed the crown from the table and placed it back in its box, Galadriel hissing your name, only receiving a nonverbal thumbs up to indicate you were okay. When the Father of Uruks returned, he clipped matching irons to Galadriel's wrist before snatching up his sword, tossing over his shoulder, "We will speak again. I'll give you until nightfall to decide."

The Orcs filed out of the room after Adar, leaving you on the ground and chained to a spare post. Slowly, you tried to sit up and use the beam as support; grimacing in pain that made your friend question, "Are you hurt?"

"They're not the most merciful lot," you tried to joke with a smirk, but it turned into a wince, "but I've been through worse, I'll be fine. Listen to me, Galadriel," you sniffled, "you can't tell Adar anything. I don't care if he's gutting me, you don't tell him - "

"I would not have your life ended on my account, it would be as if swinging the sword myself!" Galadriel argued with heat.

"Adar is not your ally," you scoffed, "nor are the Orcs - look at what they've done! Continue to do! Do not be so foolish! So blinded, please, I beg you, my friend. If you tell him about Sauron, yes, your enemy might be vanquished, but you could be creating an entirely new and future enemy that all of Middle-earth must endure. My life is not worth that."

"It's worth more."

You smirked, "Don't forget who I am, friend; I am Incarnated, and I will not die easily nor without a fight. Adar will not succeed in my death so easily."

Galadriel shook her head, "If I do not indulge Adar with information I have and you lose your life because of that, Elrond would never forgive me."

You gave a watery smile, sniffling, "How is he?"

The Elf shook her head, "He's... He refuses to accept your fate, operates on a shorter fuse, he's mourning - even if he doesn't acknowledge or believe he is."

"It's not that I don't love you, my friend, but... I'll miss him the most," you let a single tear fall, a wistful smile toying on your lips. "You'll look out for him, won't you? Just... Just don't let him be alone, please. He'll try to push you away, but be patient; he'll need you and I'll rest easier knowing you'll be there."

"I won't do as you ask," Galadriel grit. "Look at you!"

"How can you be so confident that the moment you tell Adar what he wants to know, he won't kill me anyway?"

"Because Adar appears a man of rationality - unlike Sauron - "

You scoffed, "None of them are rational, Galadriel! They have their own agendas - and none of them benefit the likes of us! Don't tell him anything else, I don't care if he's gutting me like a pig, you don't say anything!"

"I can't agree to that," Galadriel shook her head, "I won't, not when there's a chance we can both get out of this alive."

"And if we survive just to witness the eradication of our people!?" Galadriel was silent, bowing her head. With a sigh, you asked, "Where's Nenya?"

"Safe with Elrond."

"Oh?" You chuckled. "How'd that happen? You have to break his finger off to put it on?"

Galadriel gave a breathy chuckle, "He needed a bit of convincing, but with the greater good at stake - he was left no choice."

With a smirk of amusement, you nodded slowly, then requested, "Could you promise me something decently reasonable?"

"I can try."

"If you make it outta here and I don't - "

"Do not say that!"

"Galadriel, just - stop for a moment and listen to me, please. If you get out of here and I do not, tell Elrond what happened. Tell him Adar found me after the volcano erupted, kept me prisoner, and that I tried." Tears brimmed your waterline, "Tell him I tried to escape, to get back to him... But if I don't make it and you do, please, tell him I love him - more than anything. Tell him I'll wait for him on white shores."

"Tell him yourself."

As promised, when night fell, Adar returned. His second in command, Glüg, approached you with a brandished sword and laid it at your neck with a cruel and twisted expression.

"Have you made your decision?" Adar questioned, Galadriel looking between him and the threat to your life. "Choose wisely, or I'll let my children bleed her; right here, right now. Tell me what I've asked."

"Don't tell him shit, Galadriel!" You barked in a last ditch effort, earning a balled-up-armored fist to rock your jaw. You spit a glob of blood to the side, snarling at Glüg, "You hit like like a bitch." He spit on you.

With a huff, Galadriel exposed, "Yes, Halbrand is Sauron. He's in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow Him to dominate my kind... And yours."

"Every kind in Middle-earth," Adar corrected.

Quickly, Galadriel rushed, "But He will not attempt escape until His task is complete. And that gives us a momentary advantage."

"'Us'?" The Father repeated.

"Unlock me."

"Galadriel! Think for a second!" You snapped, but Glüg pressed his blade deeper into your throat. You seethed, frustrated and angry tears turning suffocating. Adar approached your friend, eyes trained on her, causing the Elleth to look away in discomfort as Adar undid the iron cuff on Galadriel's wrist.

"As we speak, Y/N's husband, Elrond, hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves..." She boldly looked at Adar, you struggling against the blade at the sound of Elrond's name, "And Nenya, my Ring."

"Galadriel! Stop, don't say another word! Silence yourself!" You begged, whimpering shrilly when blood flowed from Glüg's disgustingly dirty blade.

"I see," Adar turned from the Elf.

You were ignored and Galadriel rose from her seat, following Adar while continuing, "Once he arrives, he will seal off the city, loose Celebrimbor from Sauron's grasp, and then together... Uruk, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return."

"And what then?" Adar questioned.

"Any Ring that have known his touch must be destroyed."

"I meant, what then for the Uruk? Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor? The shadow has not only overcome you, it has overcome all of Elvendom. In the end, your drive to prove your virtue will work right into Sauron's designs."

"You speak lies," Galadriel whispered as if in disbelief. "Hoping I will reveal something."

"You have already revealed everything I hoped you would and more."

You groaned and tossed your head back into the beam; a harsh thump echoing as Adar charged out of the tent with Galadriel and Glüg on his heels.

"Where are you taking her!?" Galadriel struggled in her restraints, unable to stray far from her seat as two Orcs entered the tent and began unclipping your irons. You didn't fight them, rolling your tired eyes as they began dragging you out on your backside. "NO! NO! Where are you taking her!?" Galadriel sobbed, on her feet, trying to follow.

"Remember your promise," you told her, forcing yourself to find contentment that your friend could be the last friendly image your brain would register.

"No, please! Please! You will not profit from her death! I have told you what your Father wanted, now release her! Her death will not profit you, but instead, will bring about your utter ruin! Please! Y/N!"

The Orcs ignored Galadriel's pleas, dragging you from the tent and amongst the snarling, snapping Orcs. Adar stood before a cart big enough for a single prisoner, smirking, giving his children command in Black Speech to load you inside. He watched, telling you, "Galadriel says your husband is on his way with an army. Surely, the sight of his wife might give Commander Elrond pause. The knowledge that you're alive will bring him to my table."

You were strung up by your arms, spread in exposure, tarps thrown over the cage to effectively cut you off from the rest of the world. You felt the cage rattle as you were lugged through mud. You couldn't identify hardly anything... Until a familiar horn bellowed in the short distance, making your chest tighten. While excited by the prospect of a rescue, you loathed the idea of Elrond running head first into a trap.

Your Elven ears picked up on the sound of thundering horse hooves, knowing your people (kin, too) were charging towards Adar's army; who were swiftly gathering in organized ranks. Your cage came to a halt, and a moment later, you flinched when the front-facing tarp was ripped down and the light above Eregion glared down on you. You were greeted with the sight of your husband surging closer on horseback, time seemingly slowing when your eyes locked and he registered who Adar's prisoner was.

You flinched when an Orc pressed the tip of their blade into your already injured neck, reopening a wound to send a single stream of blood steadily flowing.

"Halt!" Elrond called in Sindarin, the entire procession coming to an almost synchronized halt. He sized up the enemy, but kept letting his eyes glaze over you - disbelief coloring his expression. Elrond's horse stamped in place, Adar stepping forward to speak.

"Welcome, Commander Elrond."

"Y/N!" A voice shouted from the army, Elrond's head snapping over in time to see your siblings - three brothers, two sisters - dismounting their horses.

"Wait, wait!" Elrond barked at them, holding a hand up; your siblings halting themselves.

"Wise," Adar taunted, your irons noisily rattling when you tried to adjust your stance.

In Sindarin, you called to your eldest brother, "Do what needs done, do not spare my life for this foolishness! Take them down! Be done with it! Rid us of their filth!"

"I should think... Commander Elrond would like to hear my proposal first," Adar told you casually.

"I think they should put you and children in the dirt!" You spat, earning several snarls, growls, and hisses from the surrounding Orcs.

Elrond encouraged his horse forward, standing in the sunlight highlighting 'no man's land'. He glared at Adar, but asked you, "Are you hurt?"

"Only my ego," you assured.

His eyes flickered over to Adar, then nodded, "I will hear you first."

"You're wasting your time," you told him in Sindarin.

"On you, it's not a waste," he answered stiffly, almost angrily. "I would have her set free for the duration of our parlay."

"But of course," Adar agreed, being carted away at his Blackened command. Due to the tarps hanging over the other 3 sides of your prison, you lost sight of Elrond; forced to blindly follow instruction and behave.

The Elves were not permitted weapons in the Uruk camp.

Elrond dismounted his horse with Vorohil and your eldest brother, Iallion, who insisted on going to gauge your state, in time to watch the Orcs yank you from the cart and drag you into a tent as if your legs were of no use. It was all he needed to know to understand your treatment the past few months you've been 'missing'. His hand clapped Adar's shoulder before the Father of Orcs could pass him by, snarling, "If I come to learn you've been mistreating my wife, I assure you, there will be consequences."

Adar just chuckled and lead the way into his tent. Several Orcs shoved Elrond's shoulder and forced him, his second-in-command, and your brother to follow.

Inside, Elrond noted the walls lined with Orcs, all surrounding their prisoners of war - you and Commander Galadriel. The blonde Elleths were shackled to the same post, both standing, though, you were leaning into the beam for support as it appeared you could not stand on your own. When you noted their arrival, you perked up slightly, but not enough to wash away the worry he felt.

Elrond was offered a seat, just staring down Adar, who began, "The Ring you carry... Show it to me."

Elrond snarled, "Show me the care you've taken of my wife."

"She is perfectly healthy... As you can see. The Ring, Commander..."

Elrond glared for several long minutes, then answered, "A foolish act if I had brought it here."

"You are a courtier," Adar pointed out. "More suited to wielding a scroll than a sword."

"You've never seen me wield either."

"And yet," Adar's head cocked slightly, "I have faced the Incarnated and won. Beside Sauron, there's none alive... Entitled to those rights."

Iallion demanded in a snarl, "How came you by my sister? You say you won against her - where?"

"Didn't win a fucking thing! The bastards found me; facedown in volcanic soot after the battle with the Númenoreans. I told you to keep charging - you should've kept charging," you answered, earning a swift kick to the back of your knee; making it buckle and ram the post.

"Touch her again and I'll slaughter everyone in here," Elrond threatened.

"You so much as twitch - "

"And one of your children shall kill me? My wife? My men? You think I am not aware of that fact, do you honestly think I wouldn't risk life and limb for my wife? Do not. Touch. Her."

Adar just stared at Elrond, then nodded, "Fair enough. Though, if she speaks again... Cut out her tongue."

Elrond, Iallion, and Vorohil all sat forward when Glüg's blade chimed as it was deployed from the sheath; another couple Orcs shuffling and snarling forward to box you in. Your eyes rolled when the same dagger pressed unforgivingly to the pulse point beneath the hinge of your jaw.

Adar continued, "Sauron is my enemy as much as yours... Give me what I need to defeat Him and let us be rid of Him."

"Is it not you that has done his bidding by laying siege to Eregion?" Elrond countered.

"Eregion has fallen into shadow... It belongs to the Deceiver now, as does every Elf within its walls."

"Not Lord Celebrimbor," your husband tried to refuted, desperate to believe there was still some good left to fight for.

"It was Celebrimbor himself who welcomed Sauron in. You cannot save him... You can...save...them," Adar explained, naturally making Elrond look to you still held at knife point. Galadriel was uncharacteristically silent, chained to the same post, facing one another. "It is an earnest offer... I suggest you take it," punctuated Adar before he rose from his chair. "And leave Sauron to me..."

"Right, 'cause that worked sooo well last time," you scoffed, making every Elven eye widen in surprised shock. "You're the reason He still lives, you're forcing us all to do your bidding and fight against Him!" When an Orc's hand rose in a sudden movement to grip your chin - intending to hold open so Glüg could amputate your tongue - you simply reacted out of panic by erratically whipping your head to the side in time to catch the Orc's hand. His pointer finger landed between your teeth, too slow on the draw; losing the finger to the single, incredible chomp as if a root vegetable.

The Orc screamed in pain, spitting the finger and causing black blood to coat your lips like sadistic make-up.

"Lord Father - "

Adar silenced Glüg with a hand in the air, the injured Orc being escorted from the tent; hissing at you in a way that made you smirk. The Father of Orcs glanced at you, demanding, "Quiet," before slowly moved around the banquet table. He complimented Elrond, "You have the beauty of your foremother, Melian of the Valar. If even a fragment of her wisdom is in your veins... You must know you cannot defeat me in battle. I will outmaneuver you... My forces outfight yours... And you will fall."

"Not before you have painted the sands of the Glanduin black," Elrond stood to meet Adar, "with the blood of your kin."

You smirked slightly, always having faith Elrond would choose responsibility over emotion - something Galadriel was increasingly struggling with and unable to master. Glüg lowered his blade when he heard Elrond's threat - thinking this war was meant to played with strategy, not overwhelming numbers that would discard Orcish life without thought or consideration.

Adar assured, "My children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud."

"Are you prepared to spend their lives so freely... Adar?" Elrond questioned, using the Uruk's name as if an insult. "Are they?" He asked the room, letting his eyes bore into those of few Orcs to truly drive his words and plant seeds of doubt.

Adar didn't respond, pausing, then demanding, "You may haggle over Galadriel... But it's the Ring for your wife's life. What is it to be?"

Elrond's eyes locked with yours, noting the way your head shook. He slowly stalked around Adar, his hand unsuspectingly unclipping the decorative detail of his cloak's shoulder broach. His teary gaze lifted to lock with yours, portraying his apology and grief, then turning to Adar, "Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours."

Orcs hissed.

"Very well," Adar accepted, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I suppose not all vows are kept sacred... I will meet you there... With your wife's head on a pike."

Elrond held Adar's attention, relenting, "If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell."

Adar's eyes shifted to Glüg's over Elrond's shoulder, the Orc assuring, "He's unarmed."

Interesting, you mused to yourself, he saw Elrond's broach but doesn't report it? Perhaps this war caused tension among their legion - beginning to question the man they followed.

After Adar's nod, Elrond turned to approach the beam in record break time. "My love," he greeted softly, tears evident and ready to spill. You both just stared at each other, unable to accept or process being within proximity to one another after being apart for so long - and only now, reunited to say goodbye. "Forgive me," Elrond whispered in Sindarin.

"Win," you answered in a matching hushed volume. "And if you don't, meet me on white shores."

He nodded, hand lifted to caress your cheek in disbelief; shuddering at the feel of your flesh. "I've missed you past the point of words, my star," he frowned.

"No more than I you."

You snuggled into his hand, stomach lurching when he leaned forward to press his final kiss to your lips. It wasn't passionate, but something chaste for show only; your chained hands reaching to hold his free one as it was all you could reach. The broach's center was pressed to your palm, your tear streaking through grimy cheeks when he pulled back to rest his forehead on yours. "I love you," he swore.

"I love you, too," you whimpered, bottom lip trembling with emotion as Adar looked to the ground. You wished to say your acting skills were that good to be truly deceptive, but in reality, something in your intuition refused to let you believe you'd survive this.

Hating the look of devastation on your otherwise devastatingly beautiful features, Elrond leaned in again before hushing against your lips, "Be ready."

"Be smart."

Elrond nodded, kissed you one last time before pulling back. Almost as if in pain, he turned, unable to handle being so close so improperly; causing him to snap, "Iallion, Vorohil," who flanked his tail upon their exit of the Uruk tent.

You sniffled, leaning on the beam in exhaustion, still playing into the facade you thought Elrond was trying to silently communicate. You weren't defeated yet; the pin kept in your clenched fist to cause indentations from the star-point design.

Outside, Iallion and Vorohil questioned Elrond's confidence, being told a legion of Dwarves had been summoned to march to Eregion's aid; telling his second to guide the army to the battle while he held the city. Before trotting away, Elrond pulled on his helmet and told the two in Sindarin, "And it starts with the rescue of my wife and decimation of this camp."

You used Elrond's pin to pick Galadriel's lock first, insisting she had to flee before anyone caught you. She tried to refuse, something about loyalty or other, but you all but shoved her away from you and snarled for her to leave you.

"Elrond's near," you reminded her, "I'm not going anywhere."

"He's coming for you," she realized.

"Did you have any doubt?"

She chuckled, "I suppose not."

"Get out of here," you cocked your head, indicating she flee out the tent flap. You focused on your own lock as the sounds of invasion echoed around the camp. Praying Galadriel found a way to disguise herself, you struggled to unlock your irons; hearing someone rush into the tent behind you.

"You!"

An Orc was surging up to you in record time, bloody dagger in hand, twisted snarl curling his lip. You dropped the pin on accident, unable to retrieve it; but having enough mind to wait until the Orc was a foot from you, stepping back, extending your chains. The Orc slashed directly into the weakened metal, severing your bond, but the loss of tension made you flop backwards; rolling over your shoulder and onto your feet.

The Orc, ever graceful, hacked wildly at you; forcing you to go on the defense and dodge his attacks around the tent. Three more Orcs filed in; but however you might argue, luck was on your side for your brother, Iallion, came charging in with your sister, Eliriel.

"Y/N!"

You caught the sword your brother tossed, slashing the offending Orc's head from his shoulders as your siblings disposed of the other three enemies with ease.

Realizing the Orcs were vanquished (for now), you turned to your brother and raced into his embrace. He grunted and caught you, petting the back of your head before releasing and letting you hug your sister.

"Do you need medial aid?" Eliriel asked in worry, pushing hair from your shoulders to expose flesh - checking for any injury or bloody blemish.

"No - "

"Can you fight?"

"The day I answer no, you've permission to put me in the ground yourself," you scoffed, nodding at your brother. "You came back?"

"Elrond's leading the charge, they're razing the camp," Iallion explained, "otherwise he would've come himself."

"Where is he?"

"Come, we can find him," he insisted, eyes raking over you. "Sure you're all right?"

"Never better," you chuckled without humor, intent on holding the horrors you've experienced at the hands of your captors close to your chest. "Now, we gonna stand here and talk or go hunt some Orc?"

"YES!"

The Incarnated swarmed together in a protection fashion around you; a sibling shield, if you would, due to your lack of armor. Individually, the Incarnated were almost impossible to defeat, but together, they rivaled armies; exactly as the Valar intended. However, while fearsome in battle, you were still but a few and the Orcs were a grand-many; almost easily overwhelming any Elf they encountered.

Exactly why you were separated from them.

You faced against four different foes, turning as if dancing steps to something intimate; blade flashing in the sunlight, ringing as it clanged against blackened blades and rusted armor. It was easy to cut off your retreat or direction back to your siblings, forcing you back several yards as the Orcs swiftly closed in.

"Y/N! DUCK!" You heard from behind you; not thinking, just dropping like a sack of potatoes.

Horse hooves passed you, looking up in time to defend against another blade as Elrond engaged the others. You were both fairing decently until a moment of distraction - where an Orc swung his axe into Elrond's chest and knocked him from his horse - leaving an opportunity for your attacker.

With a scream, the Orc's blade sliced your chest in a deep slashing, managing to cut into your neck; blood starting to stream into your torn and tattered prison clothes. You were blinded by stinging pain, whimpering as your non-dominant arm curled across your chest as if gauze to lay over the injury; dominant hand occupied by your sword, defending yourself with weak whimpers.

One final hack made your sword arm collapse into the ground and for the Orc to stomp on your wrist to hold you there. You were pinned. The Orc laughed and sadistically reached down to swipe a grimy finger into your wound, causing you to hiss through teeth, only to lift his finger to his mouth and taste your life force. The sight alone made your stomach lurch, a panicked cry escaping your lips.

Elrond heard the enemy's laugh and lifted his head in time to see it lick your blood; noting your cry and position beneath the Orc. His face steeled into something beyond infuriation. The three Orcs that filled the space between you and he were quickly dispatched, Elrond engaging your attacker - letting you scramble backwards into a tree trunk for a front row viewing.

With a wild swing, Elrond swiped at the Orc; who reached up to grab hold of his helmet, which was freed when Elrond rolled from under him. The Orc swung, blade whistling; catching Elrond's cheek and sending him to the dirt, much to your worry. He glared at the enemy, wiping at his injury as the Orc growled, "I'm gonna spill her guts at your feet, Elf!"

Elrond's eyes flickered to you, taking the threat as credible; swiping the sword away, using a second blade to inflict injury before driving his longsword into the Orc's belly - driving him backwards into the basket of a trebuchet (or catapult). When pinned, Elrond drove his dagger into the Orc's sternum; leering over him in Sindarin, "Die."

Elrond yanked both weapons free and turned for the machine's mechanisms; yanking a rope and setting the trebuchet into motion. "No, no, no, no," the Orc begged when he realized what was happening; lifted off his feet only to be flung with the basket of rocks through the air, over the width of the Glanduin, and into the walls of Eregion.

Your husband wasted no time to drop the rope and turn for you; rushing forward and sliding to his knees beside your bleeding form. "Elrond, oh, my stars," you rushed with a bloody grin, reaching for him with your dominate hand as the other still tried to staunch your injury.

"I knew you weren't gone, I knew it," he breathed, taking your face in hand, "I'm so sorry, my love, I'm so sorry. I should've come sooner - "

"You got here right when you were supposed to," you assured, sniffling. "Have you - Have you seen Galadriel? I set her free, have you seen her?"

"Why was she not with you?"

"I sent her away, I wasn't sure how long I'd take to escape," you trembled, "then Iallion and Eliriel got me out."

"Why didn't you run?"

"I did..."

"No, away from the battle - "

"I ran to find you," you whispered, offering a sad smile. "Oh," you breathed, fingertip ghosting over his cut cheek, "that'll scar."

"It's nothing," he shook his head, "but yours isn't - I have to get you away from here - "

"There's no time," you rushed, "so, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

You swallowed thickly, "Clean your blade, put it in the fire."

Elrond's brows furrowed, glancing over his shoulder to see the trebuchet set ablaze by his men; the Orcs fleeing from the danger, leaving a rare opening. "I don't... Oh," his eyes widened, nodding and rushing to do as you bid. He cleaned his blade on his cloak as he sprinted to the burning machine; sticking his blade in, then returning to your side. "Can you stand?" He asked.

"If you can get me up," you nodded.

"C'mon, love," Elrond whispered, hands under your arms and hoisting you up the bark with a small grunt. "I've got you - "

"Elrond!"

He didn't think, just gripped the blade of his dagger and flung it in a fluid motion over his shoulder where you were staring. The weapon struck an approaching Orc in the throat; gurgling black blood as he went down, but Elrond didn't even bother to watch. He just returned his attention to you, "C'mere, starlight, I've got you."

"Commander!" A different voice shouted, your siblings rushing to the scene. Iallion, as the eldest, gave command to the others, "Circle - circle up! Get around them!" As the Incarnated surrounded you, Elrond was assisting you towards the flames. "Commander, orders, sir?"

"Stand guard," Elrond replied, easing you to your knees. "All right, my love," he paused, checking the blade, "think it's good?"

You nodded, "It's good. Just, uh... Aim, please."

He huffed, "As if I'd miss." He pulled his sword fully from the flames, the thin metal burning bright red; even sizzling subtly. "Ready?"

"Wait, wait," Eliriel bartered, finding a chunk of wood and placing it in your mouth. She lowered to her knees and hooked her arms around yours; restraining them behind your back in a vice. "Okay... Okay, good - do it, do it now, Elrond!" She begged, seeing blood flow a little more freely now that you weren't trying to plug the wound.

When your husband lowered the blade to your injury, you lost consciousness after screaming blood murder until air depleted from your lungs. The flesh was cauterized as cleanly as Elrond could manage, satisfied when he noted no weeping openings.

"Commander! What orders, Commander!?"

Elrond was torn between his wife and his company - but Iallion encouraged, "Go, brother. We'll get her somewhere safe."

With a scoff, Elrond shook his head and carefully pulled the wood from your mouth; gathering you off your sister and into his chest. "Where's safe anymore?" Elrond asked rhetorically in Sindarin, standing with you in his arms.

The camp was in complete disarray, Adar realizing the Elven Calvary had destroyed nearly everything in their path, almost to a barbaric extent. He would've questioned the displayed Elven bravery, but his mind knew better and reminded him he threatened Commander Elrond's wife... No wonder the camp was stamped into the ground.

The sun sank, darkness spread, and Adar listened to report after report, all confirming the Elves were fairing better than expected. Many Uruk lost their lives, more were injured, and the Orcs were encountering outmaneuvers no matter where they attacked.

Adar returned to the tent he left you and Galadriel in... Finding empty irons, no prisoners, and several of his children - dead. There was no confirmation as to who the wounds were from, but considering the swift yet strategically fatal injuries, he assumed the Incarnated had come to your rescue. Death was only graceful when dealt by their hands.

"Perhaps, Lord Father," Glüg reported, "we should sound the retreat. The Commander Elrond is formidable, angry over his wife's injuries..."

"No," Adar refused.

"He slaughtered half the camp to find her!"

"We do not retreat," Adar growled, making his son shy back a step. "Send him in..."

"He will kill our own kind!"

"Send. Him. In. Commander Elrond is on the battlefield, his wife smuggled away - "

"His wife is on the field, Lord Father! Khor saw her," Glüg gestured at his brother, who nodded vigorously at Adar.

"All the more reason... Send him in."

After your wound was cauterized, Elrond managed to find a horse and rush you a safe distance into the woods with Eliriel to guard you. Upon awakening, you were stiff with pain, but infuriated by the obvious delay in consciousness; rolling to your feet and testing the bounds of the near-fatal, scabbing wound.

"You can't go," Eliriel insisted, watching you stretch, "you'll tear open - "

"Adar kept me alive just enough for this moment, I have business to settle with him. I've been on the sidelines too long, sister," you snapped, "and injured or not, I will not leave Eregion to the darkness. There's still a chance - our people still fight. Will you join us? Or shall you turn tail, as our uncle did? Demote yourself?"

Your uncle, another Incarnated, had been a member of the original alliance of Elves against Sauron; one of the first to leave Valinor on a noble quest to Middle-earth. He was one of the reasons your kin had been blessed, but he's also the reason you know what happens if Incarnated refuse their Holy Calling... Facing Morgoth's apprentice was traumatizing beyond belief, your uncle leading alongside Galadriel's brother, Finrod, in many abattle. Yet Sauron's craft was vast, weaseling into your uncle's heart and brain to the point of insanity; so much so, that upon your uncle going AWOL, Finrod was slain in response.

Galadriel never blamed you nor other Incarnated; she blamed only Sauron, rationalizing he was who fucked up your uncle's head so much that the Valar took back their gift. A forfeited Incarnated was gazed upon with utter contempt until driven into exile, and even then, they aren't immediately granted immunity nor entrance into Aman, - or the Undying Lands - but instead, must plead for redemption. Needless to say, your uncle gave your kin quiet a public mess to rectify and it was a grave insult to throw such an accusation at an Incarnated.

"Sister?" You prompted.

From the dirt, Eliriel nodded and reached for your hand; allowing you to heave her onto her feet. "You'll need armor - do not argue!" She snapped with a pointed finger when your mouth opened. "Come."

Eliriel lead you through the woods at a mild pace as to not irritate your injury. Using the darkness to your advantage, you snuck around until happening upon a fallen Elleth who was about your size and body type. Swiftly, you took her armor with a prayer in Sindarin, securing it, then latching on her weapons belt.

"Ready?" You asked, seeing Eliriel nod. "Stay close."

"I'm older than you!"

"Then act like it!" You laughed over your shoulder, sprinting from the treeline and directly towards the fray taking place before Eregion's walls. You snatched a full quiver from a dead Elf, not stopping; plucking up an abandoned bow, still surging; then snatching whatever spent torch-arrows you could, doubly determined.

Blood transformed impacted dirt into a marsh; bodies littering the land, a city on fire, and Death permeating the air. Your sword sang with glee at each blow; injury holding strong, giving you fuller permission to move as you needed. When you raced into battle, you were an entirely different breed; purely animalistic, relying on your senses to cause the most damage. All you could process was you needing to kill.

You happened to be in the right place at the right time because just yards ahead of you, several jagged arrows thumped into your comrade, Rían's, body at varying angles. She swayed and dropped to her knees, revealing ahead of her, a small gaggle of Elves - Elrond included. Rían reached for a torch arrow as you noted the barrel of oil by the Grond and quickly connected the dots.

It was as if the Valar arranged it themself: where one Elf fell, an Incarnated steps up to assume responsibility without hesitation nor prompt. Three additional arrows struck Rían, who fell dead, and there you stood; causing your name to fall from your husband's mouth and for you to spring into action. Without hesitation, you ignite your own arrow, notch it, aim, then release before rushing towards Elrond; seven arrows impalied the place you vacated. "What're you doing here!? It's not safe!" Elrond demanded when you lowered to his level behind a barrier of dirt.

Your arrow found it's mark, catching the entire Grond and surrounding Orcs in a violently gnarly explosion. You smirked at your husband, anchoring him by his neck to place a desperate, messy, slippery kiss to his lips. On retraction, there came a loud, wet smooch sound; you nodding and answering, "Winning a war."

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

[lady-ashfade]

Blood And Pressure

Part one

Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)

-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next

-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.

-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that’s all really (maybe more in the future!)

-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens.

-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.

No one knew the power you held when you entered camp. You stayed in The Big House at camp with Mr.D and many of the campers knew nothing but a few things when you walked by. You were a person of few words but spoke in glances, or at least to them you were.

You spent your days talking to Mr. D and Chiron since they didn’t like you to leave the house or their side.

“It’s just too dangerous to be around the little kids,” Chiron talks ever so soft to you.

“I mean, I don’t care if you hurt them or not but they know nothing of you— we barely know anything of your kind. So you stay with us.” He was a bit harsher when it came to you but he was also fun to be around.

No one noticed when you’d glance into a room while a patient was sick and in bed. And no one knew you visited Percy too.

You heard whispers when he arrived and wanted to check him out for yourself. His heart was beating fine and healthy but a little to high for your liking. He was having a nightmare and you could calm him down.

When you placed your hands together and calmed his heart, then his eyes open just a bit. He remembers seeing annabeth but you were new. You wore dark red and silver clothes making him wonder about you, you almost looked like royalty to him…and your beautiful.

“Sleep percy,” As soon as you spoke he was out like a light as you controlled his body and decreased the anxiety he felt. You wanted to stay there and help him but you knew you could get caught at anytime so you left. He wasn’t the only one you helped, and he wouldn’t be the last.

Another day you found yourself playing cards with Mr. D, he got too angry at you beating him that he took a break. He rests his eyes while you read a book, a very old and run down book but you refused to let it go. And that’s when the boy you helped walked in with confusion on his faces.

It was your favorite part to see someone new get welcomed.

Percy seemed to not notice you at first when his announce stayed on the god you knew, obviously he wasn’t aware of who he was talking to…and when he did he didn’t seem to care either. After a few minutes of them talking, he finally noticed you as you flip the page of your book.

“What are you looking at her for?” Mr. D tried to pull his attention away from you but he just kept staring.

“You…you were in my room that night.”

You shake your head and sit back under the gods suspicious glare. “No, no. Must have me mistaken.”

“I recognize that pin on your jacket, it was definitely you.”

“Okay kid, that’s enough now got get me that wine.” He snaps his fingers and Percy finally turns his gaze. Thankfully Chiron got there in time before Percy fell for his trick.

Percy was getting to explore the camp, train and fight and win glory. You hated how tight your at stomach got in jealousy of him. You’ve been here for two years and yet you haven’t stepped off the porch of the big house.

You stood up from your chair causing them all to turn to you. You slammed your hands on the table and started to demand that you would be going with them. You’ve had enough.

“I wanna see things too. Just for once let me see the camp, it’s cruel to keep me here.”

“You know the rules, you stay here!” Mr. D was always the one to fight with you when you threw your fits.

“Your rules suck! Let me go on the tour!” Your voice was so loud percy thought that the whole camp could hear you. Your final hope was to look at Chiron with begging eyes since he was so easy to guilt.

And like every time. He caves.

“Maybe we should. They have shown no signs of hurting anyone and it would be good to get a bit of fresh air, stretch their legs.” He tried to reason with him. You begged and prayed in your mind for it to work.

“Fine— whatever. But if anyone so mush as touc-” he was cut off by you squealing and hugging him. He was caught of guard since you’ve never do that before. He felt pride, the other gods wanted you to come to Olympus or the underworld but he got you. No one could take the smirk on his face.

Percy was happy to see you smile. It caused his mood to lighten greatly and he didn’t really know why but you seemed so familiar to him. Like he’d do anything to keep you smiling, to hold your hand…

“Come along, we have a lot to explore.” You both trail behind the centaur to take on the new adventure. Maybe this was fate.

You didn’t know it but many eyes would begin to follow you everywhere.

Next chapter

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