#but plain and made from cement

[sheliach]

Esmeralda ~ Arenales

[megalony]

Attacked

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, based on an anon request. I hope you will all like it, feedback is always appreciated.

I am hoping to do a follow up to this soon.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17 @zoeybennett

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: (Y/n) has moved on from her abusive ex. She's happily married with a family. Until her ex sees her and attacks her in the street.

Enjoy.

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

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair and gave his head a light shake as he wandered out the bathroom and made his way towards the bedroom.

He could feel a headache forming.

He had tried to take a nap this afternoon before Chris got home from school so he would be prepared for his double shift that started tonight. Eddie didn't sleep at the station unless he was doing a stint of shifts in a row. And he was going on shift tonight and wouldn't be home until late tomorrow night. He couldn't very well turn up for a night shift and try to catch a few hours of sleep not long after he arrived, and he wanted to be rearing and ready to go when he got there.

"Okay baby, I gotta go." His eyes focused on the hem of his shirt which he tucked into his trousers but when Eddie lifted his head, all the blood drained down to his feet. His lips suddenly went very dry and his jaw hung open but he couldn't find anything else to say when he walked in the bedroom.

Oh, that wasn't fair.

How was Eddie supposed to leave for a double shift when (Y/n) looked like that?

Her image burned into his eyes and left it cemented into his brain. How could he go out on a call and try to focus when his wife was at home looking that good? How was he supposed to head to work and not stay here when she looked that appealing to him?

The sight of her stood there like that was enough to make Eddie growl and rethink going into work tonight.

It was clear that (Y/n) hadn't long got out the shower. She was wearing one of Eddie's plain cotton shirts and a pair of his boxers that were glued rather shapely around her bum. And his shirt hung off her left shoulder as if giving him a sneak preview of what he was missing out on. But it was the way his shirt was bunched up over her hip and partly tucked into the boxers that made it hard to stay in control. He wanted to go over there and rip it over her head and drag the boxers down to her ankles.

He swallowed harshly as he watched (Y/n) drag her fingers through her damp hair and it made her shirt rise up and expose her hip and stomach to his prying eyes.

"Really?" His voice came out a lot deeper than he intended and he saw the confusion pool in (Y/n)'s eyes as she turned to face him.

"What?"

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when his arms coiled around her waist and he dragged her closer until her chest bumped into his. His chin brushed against her shoulder and his lips attached to her neck as he absentmindedly leaned up and lifted her high enough that she had to push up on her tiptoes to balance against him.

The feeling of him breathing harshly and sucking at her neck had her knees going weak but when she looked at the watch strapped on his wrist, she knew he was going to be late if he stayed. And Christopher was still awake, they couldn't exactly do anything without him hearing or noticing. He was an observant kid.

"Sweetheart you'll be late," She turned her head to look at him but he caught her lips in a kiss instead and she could feel his hands slip beneath her shirt. His palms pressed flat against the dip in her lower back before she felt his fingertips trace lower and dip past the waistband of his boxers she was wearing.

His shift was going to feel like a week instead of a day with (Y/n)'s image burned into his mind like this.

"Then you shouldn't entice me to stay." He growled and he felt (Y/n) suck in a deep breath when he took her bottom lip between his teeth. He was all prepared to leave until he saw her looking like this.

"Sorry," Sincerity flooded her voice while she cupped Eddie's face in her hands and pecked his lips again before she tried to wriggle out of his arms.

It didn't work. His hands slipped lower into the boxers she wore until both hands had a grip on her bum and he stepped closer, pressing every ridge of his body against hers. When he dug his fingers into her flesh, (Y/n) rolled her lips together and pressed her nose against his cheek.

Maybe she should walk him to the door to make sure he actually left. It wouldn't do him any favours to be late to work when he had a clean track record so far.

Her lips parted into a gasp when she felt Eddie try his luck to walk her backwards towards the bed.

"Don't you wake her." (Y/n) scolded, talking in hushed tones against his cheek before she dipped her head towards the bed.

Evie was finally asleep. The eight-month-old had been rather fussy all day but (Y/n) had given her a bottle and managed to settle her down to sleep. She was curled up asleep in the crib attached to the side of the bed. And (Y/n) wasn't going to let Eddie wake her accidentally and cause (Y/n) another hour of pacing the house and rocking to try and settle her again.

She cupped Eddie's face in her hands when he pulled away from her neck so he could look across at the bed. A fond smile pulled at his lips and his eyes softened when he looked at his baby girl.

"I won't." He murmured against her lips before he leaned forward and stole another kiss. His tongue pushed past her lips and he leaned into the kiss until (Y/n) was tilting back at an angle.

"Don't think I can leave you when you look like that. It's teasing."

He had to get his head in gear and rush into uncertain situations with this image of (Y/n) at the forefront of his mind. He had to save people and clean the trucks and tend to wounds and injuries and run into burning buildings, all while (Y/n) danced across his mind, looking like this.

"I wasn't trying to tease you baby… you're back tomorrow night, I'll be all your tomorrow."

"Hm, but I want you now."

"And I want you to stay, but you can't. I don't like being alone at night." (Y/n) curved her arms tighter around Eddie's neck and pushed forward so she could tuck her face against his skin.

She felt his hands give her a squeeze and he pulled her closer and attached his lips to the side of her head. He began to hum softly against her head and started to sway from side to side which made (Y/n) grin into his neck.

"I know mi amor. It's just tonight… you gonna be alright going to your appointment tomorrow?" Eddie didn't like working nights. Not only did it screw with his body clock and mess with his sleep, it made (Y/n) nervous.

He knew she hated to be home alone. (Y/n) was naturally anxious and being home alone spiked that worry, she didn't feel safe unless someone was with her. And Eddie hated working nights because he knew (Y/n) suffered with nightmares, although they had diminished significantly during the last year. Having Evie really helped because (Y/n) had to wake up during the night to feed her and that warded off the nightmares. And being pregnant had made her overly tired and stopped a lot of the bad dreams.

"Yeah, mum's taking Evie out for a while." (Y/n)'s plan was to drop Chris at school, take Evie to her mums house for the morning and then go to her doctor's appointment. It meant she could actually have her appointment and not have a crying baby in her arms stealing her attention.

Going out on her own wasn't something (Y/n) liked to do either. Eddie usually took her to her appointments, even if he just sat patiently in the waiting room for her, it made (Y/n) feel safe and Eddie would do anything to make her safe and comfortable.

Especially after the trauma (Y/n) had gone through with her ex.

And (Y/n) had become close friends with Eddie's team, she was close with Hen and Karen and especially Maddie. So if ever (Y/n) didn't feel able to go out to the shops or to an appointment or even just out of the house, the girls helped her and went with her.

"Good, if you need me just call, I should be able to answer." He couldn't always answer the phone, but he tried his best. He would rather (Y/n) call him if something was wrong or she didn't feel great, then if Eddie didn't answer he knew to ring her as soon as he could.

"Hm. You'd better go, sweetheart."

(Y/n) tried to pull back and untangle herself from him because she knew he needed to leave so he wouldn't be late to the station. She thought for a second that Eddie was agreeing with her when his hands finally slid up from her underwear.

But a gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie's hand reached up for the collar of her shirt that was halfway down her shoulder. With it being Eddie's shirt and two sizes too big for her, the collar was looser and easier to move. It let Eddie hook a finger into the collar and drag it further down her arm, exposing her bare chest to his prying eyes.

(Y/n) tilted her chest back just as Eddie's lips attached to her cleavage. Both her hands moved to his shoulders and she gave him a strong push until he had to reel back up and disconnect from her chest. She dragged the shirt back up her shoulder, hiding the view he had given himself which made him groan.

"Go to work before you wake the baby."

She gave him a gentle nudge until he was walking backwards out the room, his arms back around her waist with his elbows digging into her hips. Her hands reached up to rub across his chest and she continued to nudge him backwards while he stole kiss after kiss from her lips like it was the last time he was going to see her and he was getting his money's worth.

Eddie moved one arm behind him to unlock the front door and grab his keys from the lock. When the door opened, he begrudgingly let (Y/n) push him back until he was over the threshold like a lovesick puppy waiting outside for her. But the moment she was out of his arms, Eddie planted one hand on the doorframe and the other on the door. Preventing her from closing the door on him.

He waited until (Y/n) cupped his face in her hands and tugged him down to press a feverish kiss to his lips. She let him swipe his tongue across her lower lip, begging for entrance before she pulled back, mumbling a quiet 'I love you' and 'goodbye' against his lips before giving him a final nudge out the door.

He had only just left and (Y/n) was begging for him to come back.

***

(Y/n) dragged her fingers through her hair and hitched her bag higher on her shoulder.

It didn't feel right walking down the street without either of the kids alongside her. She was so used to walking and holding Chris's hand or more recently, walking and having the pram in front of her.

She didn't like being out alone. Even when she was pushing Evie, just knowing she had her baby with her made (Y/n) feel better, more secure. But it was times like this when she wished Eddie was with her. (Y/n) hated going anywhere alone, even if it was just a short walk to the doctors and back home like this.

Eddie knew exactly why (Y/n) didn't like being alone whenever she went out. He knew she was too used to being shouted at and threatened in public by her ex. When she was with him, she was permanently afraid of doing anything to upset him and having him hurt her.

When she left him, (Y/n) didn't go out alone in case she ran into him. It had happened far too many times for (Y/n) to feel safe going out alone anymore. Eddie was more than happy to take her wherever she needed to go and it was a big milestone when (Y/n) started taking Chris to school and to the park or just out for walks on their own.

(Y/n) stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes cast ahead down the street. She could feel a cold sweat glistening on her skin and her heartbeat started to pulse through her entire body like she was vibrating.

Oh God.

No. No. Not again. Not when she was alone; not when she was out without Eddie.

It was her ex.

(Y/n) couldn't run ahead. She couldn't carry on towards her home, her safe haven, when her ex was right in the middle of her path.

She couldn't make it to her home without him catching her and (Y/n) didn't want to lead him straight to her house and have him know where she lived. She had a restraining order against him but that didn't stop him. If he knew where she lived he would terrorise her and her children. He would antagonise Eddie until Eddie attacked him again.

And if (Y/n) crossed the street he would only follow her. She couldn't think where to go or which route to take that would allow her to lose him or get rid of him.

She turned around. If she headed back in the other direction, she could find someone. There would be someone nearby, someone near the doctor's surgery or the corner shop or at the park around the next corner.

She ran. She ran as fast as her legs would take her without caring what people would think or the fact that her ex would definitely know it was her now, if he wasn't sure before.

Panic burned in her chest and caused tears to blur her eyes and trickle down her face. The wind stung her eyes and blistered her tears down her cheeks as she pelted down the street as fast as her legs would carry her. It felt like her knees were going to give way, they felt like they had turned to jelly and were buckling, ready to cave.

She thought she was getting away. (Y/n) knew if she rounded the next corner to the left, she would be back on the main street and she would be near the doctor's surgery. She wasn't sure she could make it all the way back in one fell swoop, but she needed to get close enough to find help.

She didn't make it.

An arm as rough and hurtful as barbed wire pinned around her waist before she could get near the corner and be somewhere safer. Her body was propelled to the left and her feet were swept from beneath her.

A scream gurgled past (Y/n)'s lips and she swung her arms out to try and steady herself, but it didn't do anything. She was lifted off her feet and dragged into the alley she hadn't noticed earlier.

"No! Jamie get off! Let me go!" (Y/n) screamed and made as much noise as she could until a hand clamped down over her mouth and her breaths snuffled through her nose. But she wouldn't stop. Muffled noises vibrated against his palm before she bared her teeth and chomped down as violently as she could until Jamie yelped.

Her body stumbled when Jamie roughly tossed her towards the brick wall and she planted her hands on the crumbling bricks that scraped her palms. She kept herself upright and rapidly turned her head from side to side, looking for a means of escape.

Words tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to scramble back towards the end of the alley.

'Help. Help. Fire. Jamie. Help!'

(Y/n) remembered what Eddie had told her. Some people might stop when they heard someone shouting. Others would be more likely to call for help if they heard screams. But everyone would come over if they heard there was a fire. A fire caused harm to more people and put people in danger, people would call for help if they thought there was a fire whereas shouting for help didn't always gain enough attention in enough time.

Another scream belted past her lips when Jamie's fingers tangled in her hair and he wrenched her back with so much force she was sure he had pulled a few clumps of hair loose. (Y/n) had lost enough hair over the years from Jamie pulling it like this, she wasn't willing to let him do it again.

Everything started to spin and her breath got caught in her throat when Jamie roughly slammed her head into the wall. She felt her head splitting apart like a coconut. Blood steadily poured down the left side of her temple and she snapped her eyes closed so none got into her eyes and made her cry tears of blood.

Her knees caved in and she slumped down. She tried to recalibrate her body, get her lungs working, make her ears work, stop the trembles rattling through her. But she could barely breathe. Tears and blood poured down her face and horrid gasps clawed past her lips as she pinned her arms over her face for protection. Her fingers dug into the back of her head. She couldn't take another blunt force to the head. He would knock her out if he did that and God only knew what Jamie would do then.

"Where's that fella of yours, hm? Has he finally left you?"

The words dripped into her ear like poison and had (Y/n) shivering with her knees trembling and scraping against the concrete floor. She was just finally starting to forget what his voice sounded like. His face had faded to a fuzzy, blurred image in her brain.

She was just starting to forget the monster that plagued her and move on from the nightmares he gave her.

Why did he have to bump into her now?

The last time (Y/n) had seen Jamie out in public, Eddie had been with her. As soon as Eddie realised who Jamie was, he broke his nose and pinned him to the nearest wall. Eddie warned him not to go anywhere near (Y/n) and stay clear unless he wanted Eddie to drag him round by his hair and break every bone in his body.

"Get a-away from me!" (Y/n) spat in Jamie's direction, but she could barely keep her eyes in focus.

Why did she come out alone today? Why didn't she ask one of the girls if they could accompany her? Why didn't she cancel her appointment and rearrange for a day that Eddie was off?

The only silver lining (Y/n) had was the fact that her mother had Evie this morning. She couldn't imagine what she would have done if she bumped into Jamie and had Evie with her. (Y/n) didn't know what he would be like around her daughter. She didn't know if he would resort to hurting and frightening Evie or if he would try and use her to his advantage. (Y/n) couldn't run far with Evie and her daughter could have been hurt.

"No." He sneered back with a smile that resembled something out of Hell.

His hand tried to fist in (Y/n)'s hair again but she slapped him across the face. She didn't want his touch or his presence or his horrid words. She wanted him gone. She wanted Eddie. She needed Eddie.

(Y/n) kept her arms over her head and tried to move forward. She tried to push up onto her feet but she cried out when Jamie's hand curled around her left wrist.

"You fucking married him?!"

Oh dear. He'd seen her engagement and wedding rings on her finger. After all those times he told (Y/n) she would never find someone to put up with her. After telling her no one would love her, no one would deal with her antics or her anxiety and paranoia. After telling her 'that guy' would soon leave her.

She had proved him wrong. She had proved Eddie loved her to the ends of the Earth and he married her. (Y/n) had found someone who understood her, loved the bones of her, wanted to always be with her and someone who she now had a baby with. All she wanted was to forget Jamie was ever a part of her past and move forward with Eddie, Chris and Evie.

Why was that too much to ask for?

(Y/n) screamed and wrenched her arms away from Jamie when he tried to prize the rings off her fingers. It was a good job she never took the rings off and they were a perfect fit. They wouldn't come off without a fight and (Y/n) pulled her hands down to her chest before Jamie could take them from her.

"You married that bastard! You left me for him?!"

When she tried to get up, he tackled her back down. He roared like an animal enraged and when (Y/n) fell onto her back, she screamed like a banshee.

Fat tears rolled down her face and she gurgled through choked screams when Jamie slammed his foot down on her wrist.

He'd broken it. She just knew from that horrid popping sound that he had broken or in the very least, fractured the bone. He reared back like he was about to do it again and (Y/n) flailed her arm out behind her. She had to move before he shattered every bone in her body.

Her fingers nudged against something.

She wasn't sure what it was, but she grabbed it and before Jamie could move, (Y/n) slammed whatever it was against the side of his head when he leaned closer. It had been a bottle. The glass collided with the side of his head and shattered into a million tiny pieces that rained down over her and had her closing her eyes tight.

With a loud, crackling scream, (Y/n) smashed what was left of the bottle against Jamie's head again until he flopped onto the concrete beside her.

She didn't have time to waste. She couldn't lay there in agony or try to catch her breath and compose herself. She rolled onto her right side and used her good hand to push up from the floor.

When Jamie twitched, (Y/n) cracked the broken bottle against his temple again. And again. And a third time until he stopped moving.

She knew he was still breathing. He gurgled through each breath and his head lolled to one side. Part of (Y/n) wished he'd stop breathing. She wouldn't resusitate him if he did. She would let him slip away, no one would blame her and she was injured, she couldn't and wouldn't do anything for him.

Blundering cries past through her wet lips as she stumbled onto shaking legs and looked around. Her bag was at the end of the alley. (Y/n) just about made it to her bag and collapsed on her bruised, scraped knees with her shoulders slumped against the wall.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Help. I- I ne- I need… he hurt me."

"Okay, can I take your name, honey?" The woman's voice was soothing and calm and made (Y/n) take a deep breath to try and gather her senses.

Her eyes flickered behind her towards the limp body laid skewed on the floor. She couldn't say her name unless she knew Jamie was thoroughly unconscious. Her name changed when she married Eddie and that gave her more security and protection away from Jamie. "(Y/n) Diaz."

"(Y/n), where are you calling from? The GPS has you located between two houses on twenty-fifth street."

"The alley."

"Can you tell me who hurt you and what injuries you have? Do you need an ambulance?"

"My head… wrist, I… I hit him w-with a bottle… I want Eddie. He's f-firefighter Diaz, w-with the one-eighteen. Please, please-"

"Okay, don't worry, I've dispatched police to your location and I'll send the one-eighteen to you now."

That was all (Y/n) needed to hear. She dropped the phone onto her lap and leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes as she began to heave and cry. She didn't want to talk anymore. She didn't want to go through the whole ordeal with dispatch. If it was Maddie on the line, she might have continued to talk.

But the only person (Y/n) wanted was her husband.

***

"Oh Dios. Oh Dios, no." Spanish profanities flew past Eddie's lips and he almost fell down the steps in the truck to get to the pavement.

Why didn't dispatch tell him? Why didn't they tell him the victim in their callout was his wife?

He didn't bother to grab his helmet or a medic bag from the compartment. As soon as his feet hit the floor, Eddie set off in a sprint across the pavement towards the end of the alley. That was his wife sitting on the floor. That was his girl sat sobbing against the wall, hitting her hand out at the poor lady standing nearby who wanted to help but clearly couldn't get near.

"(Y/n)! Baby, baby it's me. Oh Dios, come here."

He slammed down on his knees at the end of the alley and reached his hands out for her. He cupped her face in his hands and tilted her head up off the wall so he could see the damage.

His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth and his whole body began to shake.

What had happened to her?

Blood was caked onto a very extensive cut on the right side of her temple. It was dried down her face making a trail all the way down her chin and along her neck. She was going to need stitches in her temple from this and her forehead was already beginning to swell up.

A bubbling cry errupted past (Y/n)'s lips when she realised who it was knelt down in front of her. She leaned forward and slumped her head against Eddie's shoulder, breathing in his scent as her nose brushed against his jacket that was hanging off his shoulders.

"Eddie…" She whimpered into his shirt, sniffing and gasping as she leaned forward onto him. She felt his arm around her waist and his other hand gently cupped the back of his neck with his fingers tangling in her hair.

"I'm here, shh." He kissed the top of her head and took a moment to look behind her into the alley.

Someone else was down there.

"Baby, baby girl what happened?" Eddie leaned back on his heels that dug into the back of his thighs and he moved back to cupping (Y/n)'s face in his hands so he could look at her.

"J-Jamie… he attacked me."

(Y/n) began to whimper and hyperventilate when she watched the way Eddie changed in front of her. His chest tensed and puffed out, his shoulders squared up and a violent fire started to blaze within his eyes. If she weren't in front of him right now she was sure he would of combusted.

"Cap, we've got two victims, we'll need another ambulance." Hen leaned around Eddie as she stood behind him with the gurney between her and Chimney. She could see a man collapsed in the alley and he was beginning to stir and twitch.

They couldn't take two casualties in the ambulance, they needed back up to get them both transferred.

But when Hen tried to walk past Eddie, she stopped abruptly when Eddie reached his left hand out to prevent her. The look in his eyes was daring as he tilted his head back to look up at her.

"Leave him."

"Eddie… we have to assess him-"

"Look what he's done to my wife!" Eddie all but roared as he motioned down to his wife, trembling in his arms. Jamie didn't need help, he needed to be arrested. "He leaves here in cuffs or a body bag."

Hen looked over her shoulder and bit down on her lip as she locked eyes with Bobby. If they tried to help him Eddie was going to start a fight. In his eyes, Jamie got what he deserved and he didn't need help. They didn't need to waste their time on him, they needed to look after (Y/n).

But they were first responders, they had a duty to everyone. No matter what the case was or how close they were to the calls, they had to be fair. Unless someone refused treatment, they had to care for anyone they were here to help and Jamie was no exception. They had to give him the bare minimum. They had to assess him and see whether he needed a trip to the hospital or a ride in the police car.

He was going to get arrested either way, whether that was now or later at the hospital. He wasn't getting away with this.

"Eddie, you and Buck get (Y/n) in the ambulance and Chim can drive you. We need to get her out of the street, okay? Me and Hen will wait for the second ambulance and the police." Bobby rested his hand on Eddie's shoulder.

They could take (Y/n), she was their priority, and Bobby would talk to the police and explain the situation.

The team knew about (Y/n)'s past and they could clearly see she had been attacked and fought for her life. They wouldn't let Jamie get away with this, he would get arrested once he was fit and able.

"Yeah, let's get you up, eh?" Evan moved over to Eddie's other side and held his hands out near (Y/n). They needed to get her in the ambulance and sort out her injuries. She had been sat waiting for long enough; help was here now and they had to look after her.

A pang shot through Evan's heart when (Y/n) held her left wrist up towards Eddie. Both men felt their stomachs churning when they noticed how swollen and discoloured it was and how badly she was shaking. It might be broken. He had cut open her temple and broken her wrist.

"Ohh, baby…" Eddie kissed her temple and moved his hands to hold her hips. "Come on, up we go. We're gonna take care of you, it's okay."

(Y/n) leaned her temple against Eddie's shoulder and let him and Evan carefully lift her up to her feet. She couldn't feel her legs below the knees anymore. They were trembling and shaking and her stomach was churning like she was going to be sick.

Her head was pounding and splitting at the seams, her wrist felt like a balloon and everything combined together was utter agony personified. She wanted to rewind time and go back to last night before Eddie went to work. She wanted him to stay home with her and be with the kids and prevent herself from leaving the house this morning.

Tears drenched (Y/n)'s face and she shivered when a low groan in the back of the alley caught all their attention.

Her eyes snapped closed and her hands reached out for Eddie's jacket that she scrunched up in her fists, despite the pain that burned down her arm and wrist. Her knees gave way and she pushed forward with a quiet cry.

Jamie was waking up.

"No- I don- Eddie please-"

(Y/n) leaned her weight into Evan's chest when Eddie moved her towards him. She let Evan take her weight and she felt him wrap his arms around her, hugging her close to his chest as Eddie bolted down the alley.

"Cap!"

Evan sidestepped and eased (Y/n) a few feet away from the alley where a fight was going to break out. He moved her towards the gurney that Chimney wheeled closer and they both carefully got (Y/n) sat down. She was their priority and their patient to care.

Jamie barely had chance to lift his bloodied, dizzy head from the floor before Eddie was hovering over him like an omen of death.

He latched his hands around Jamie's collar, ignoring the remnants of a glass bottle that were scattered all around his neck and chest and the little fragments dug into his head. (Y/n) had to smash him over the head with a bottle to stop him. That was how badly she had to subdue him to get away from him. Eddie was never going to let that go.

He wrenched Jamie up from the floor and threw him against the nearest wall, pinning him there with an arm across his neck and a hand gripping his chin. His tight grip on Jamie's jaw had the shorter man groaning and Eddie slammed his head back into the wall to get his attention.

"I warned you! I fucking warned you to stay away from her!"

He could see Bobby and Hen approaching from the corner of his eye and before they could grab him, Eddie smashed the heel of his right hand up into Jamie's nose. A successful snap echoed off the bricks and a tortured howl sounded like music to Eddie's ears while he watched the blood pour down Jamie's face.

"Eddie that's enough."

"Eddie stop! You can't afford to do this, not now. Not here. Go be with (Y/n) or you'll be taken into custody as well. We will sort this, I promise." Bobby yanked Eddie backwards while Hen stood in front of him and blocked his view.

They couldn't have him doing this. A squad car was on its way down here and if the police saw one of the first responders attacking one of the victims, they would arrest him. They couldn't let Eddie get arrested. It would go on his record, he would have to have a record of conversation at work and it would be on his work file.

It wasn't worth the hassle. He had to think of (Y/n) and go and look after her. He had kids to think about.

With deep, heaving breaths, Eddie nodded and shrugged Bobby's hands off his shoulders. He rolled his shoulders and his neck into place but his hands curled into fists at his sides as he watched Jamie slide down the wall and slump onto the floor.

He leaned around Hen to be level with the scum of a man on the floor.

"Go anywhere near my wife again and I will break you. You'll wish you were dead when I'm finished with you."

Eddie shrugged off their touch when they tried to move him. He could walk just fine on his own and he wasn't going to try anything. He would bide his time and wait until a better opportunity to make Jamie understand that he wouldn't get away with what he'd done.

The anger radiating through him started to dwindle the moment he stormed over to the ambulance. Just one look at (Y/n) had a different kind of flame burning within Eddie and he could feel everything in him start to melt.

If he didn't take that night shift last night. If he swapped his shift or managed to work a different day, this wouldn't of happened. He would of been with her at her appointment, he would of seen Jamie coming and stopped him before he managed to attack (Y/n). They wouldn't be on their way to the hospital right now if Eddie had been with her.

Why didn't he stay home?

He switched places with Chimney and climbed in the back of the ambulance while Chimney headed round to drive.

Eddie shared a silent look with Evan before Eddie looked away and tried to click his mind into focusing on his wife instead. He didn't need to think about what he was desperate to do to Jamie. He didn't need to think about Hen and Bobby getting back in the truck and leaving Jamie there for someone else to find. Someone else to deal with.

"Okay mi amor, let's take a look." With a deep breath, Eddie shed his jacket somewhere behind him and stood up so he could hover beside the gurney.

He carefully held (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head back so she was looking up at him. He swiped the flashlight from his top pocket and darted it in front of her eyes. They were a bit slow to constrict. With the way her head was swelling and the deep cut, she was going to need an MRI to make sure she didn't have any swelling or any bleeds around the brain.

Turning around, Eddie went through a few drawers and found some cotton swabs, a metal dish and some antiseptic. He snapped on a pair of gloves and stood near (Y/n)'s shoulder while Evan hovered at his side, fiddling with her right hand to give her an IV.

"Do you want some pain relief?"

"Make it codine, she can't have morphine." Eddie didn't bother looking over his shoulder. He kept his gaze on (Y/n) as she sniffed and stared up at him through hiccupping breaths. She was allergic to morphine and cocodamol made her have horrid side effects. "Baby, this is gonna hurt, just try and stay as still as you can, okay?"

(Y/n) tried to nod but she could barely move her head so she settled on lifting her right hand to give Eddie's elbow a squeeze. She moved her hand down and scrunched her fingers around his hip. She needed to hold onto him, any part of him, and both his hands were busy trying to tend to her forehead.

She watched the way Eddie pressed his tongue against his lips in concentration, but the moment a damp cotton swab touched her temple, she cried out. Her body stiffened and pushed back into the gurney and her eyes snapped closed.

"Sorry… baby I'm sorry." He hushed when he felt her pinch his hip to try and stay still.

Eddie began cleaning the side of (Y/n)'s head rather than touching the actual wound yet. He was gentle as he could be but his stomach was doing summersaults at how much blood was caked down her face. He had to press a little firmer to get the dried specks off her cheek and he dared to swipe his thumb across her lips to try and keep her calm.

His knees bent out into the frame of the gurney and he tilted her head to the right so he could clean her neck. Once most of the blood was gone, Eddie straightened up and began dabbing a lot of antiseptic on the wound while (Y/n) hissed and started to shake.

"I can't stitch it up in here baby, we'll have to let the doctors do that." The ambulance was too rickety for Eddie to try do any stitches and he knew (Y/n) would need a lot more pain relief if he were to try.

He carefully stuck a gauze plaster over her left brow, covering the gaping wound until someone at the hospital could tend to it.

"Let me see your wrist."

He noticed Evan had started to cut her leggings at the knees and was carefully cleaning the scrapes across her skin.

When (Y/n) gingerly lifted her left wrist, Eddie winced. Seeing her cry and shake and jerk from the pain made his teeth sink down into his lower lip enough to make it bleed.

"You'll need an X-ray and a cast… do you want me to take your rings off for you?" Eddie knew she would need an X-ray and the doctors wouldn't let her have one if she still had her rings on. Rather than see them hurt her to get the rings off, Eddie would rather try now with some soapy water and then he could keep them safe. He knew (Y/n) wouldn't want the doctors to cut the rings off.

Eddie's face fell when (Y/n) started to cry. She tilted her head back and coiled her arms around her waist as she sobbed.

"Hey, hey, it's okay-"

"H-he tried… he tried to take them." (Y/n)'s eyes cast down to her hand before she looked up at Eddie.

"Your rings?" His lips formed a frown and his eyes narrowed as he tried to think. Why would Jamie try and take her rings? He wasn't exactly a mugger. He wanted to hurt (Y/n), he always wanted to hurt her for leaving him and not doing as he said or going against him.

But then it dawned on him when Evan leaned over and murmured "Did he know she's married?" In his ear. They hadn't been married the last time they saw Jamie, they had only been engaged.

"I don't w-wanna t…take them off. Eddie please," (Y/n) tried to run her fingers over the back of her left hand but she cringed and pulled back. Even touching her hand made jolts of electricity shoot underneath her skin. She didn't want to take her rings off. They were hers. She hadn't removed them for anything since the moment Eddie proposed. (Y/n) slept in her rings, she never took them off.

"I'll keep them safe, mi amor. You need an X-ray, and as soon as it's done I'll put them back on your finger myself."

He leaned down and kissed her cheek and gently brushed away a tear when she nodded. She had to have her hand checked and possibly set back in place and Eddie wouldn't let the doctors cut her ring off or hurt her trying to remove them when he could do it himself.

"Good girl," He murmured against her lips, stealing a quick kiss before he got a fresh cotton swab and squeezed some water around (Y/n)'s fingers.

It was rather easy to twist the rings around and slide them off (Y/n)'s finger. He was glad he'd done it now because the swelling was working its way up her hand and he could tell her fingers were going to swell up soon. This way, her hand could swell and then settle down and they wouldn't risk her circulation being cut off to her finger.

Eddie was tempted to put the rings in his back pocket, but somehow that didn't feel safe and he dared not lose them. He hooked both rings on his little finger and reached beneath his collar to find his chain with the Saint Christopher pendant.

It didn't take long for Eddie to unhook the chain, slide the rings on and clip it back up. "There, safe and sound."

Something resembling a smile tugged at Eddie's lips when (Y/n) dragged her free hand over his collar. He let her pull his collar down and undo a few buttons so she could glide her fingertips over the chin and cause the rings to sway back and forth against his chest.

But his smile began to fade when (Y/n)'s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she groaned. "I f-feel sick."

"Okay, hang tight." He snatched a paper bowl from the counter and held it in front of her.

When she leaned forward, Eddie swooped his right arm behind her shoulders and pressed his lips to the back of her head as she threw up. That was a definite sign of concussion and Eddie prayed she didn't have any sort of swelling on or around her brain. Or a bleed. The last thing she needed was an operation to drain any bleeding on the brain.

They all felt the ambulance roll to a stop so Eddie laid the paper bowl on (Y/n)'s lap just in case she needed to throw up again. And he found a paper towel, soaked it in water and pressed it over her eyes when she flopped her head back. The emergency room was bright and that wasn't going to do her any favours.

Eddie was grateful when Chimney and Evan began to move the gurney. It left Eddie free to hold (Y/n)'s right hand and card his fingers through her hair as they wheeled her through into the emergency room.

Chimney leaned across and on three, he and Eddie carefully transferred (Y/n) over onto the bed in the middle of the end cubicle they were guided into.

"Who have we got?"

Evan placed his hands on his hips as he stood near the end of the bed and turned towards the nurse. "Uh, (Y/n) Diaz. Suspected broken wrist, bad concussion, massive cut to the temple." He reeled off the injuries but he couldn't drag his eyes away from the couple in front of him.

(Y/n) had been through enough. Why did Jamie have to go and do this to her? Why now? Why approach her at all when he knew he wouldn't get away with it?

Eddie slumped down on the side of the bed and dragged his fingers through his hair while his other hand was tightly clenched in (Y/n)'s fist.

He almost jumped off the bed when (Y/n) jerked forward as soon as a nurse tried to lean over her. "I just need to check your vitals-"

"No."

The wet paper towel flopped onto (Y/n)'s legs and she blinked furiously to try and get her eyes back into focus. She flung her hand out at the nurse, batting her away when she leaned over with two monitoring stickers. She didn't want those on her chest or a clip on her finger to check her pulse. She didn't want anyone touching her but Eddie. (Y/n) didn't want to be assessed or poked and prodded. She wanted Eddie to take her home.

"Baby, it's okay, you're safe."

"No!" (Y/n) swung her left hand out at the nurse causing her to drop whatever was in her hand.

Shockwaves rattled through her wrist and up to her arm when it clashed with the bedframe and she cried out, pushing herself forward into Eddie's chest. Her nails scratched into his shoulders and her face smothered into the side of his neck so harshly that Eddie was sure she wasn't going to be able to breathe.

She clung to him tighter when he curved an arm around her waist and moved his other hand to cradle the back of her neck. He began to sway them both from side to side while his lips meshed into her hair.

"Shh, it's okay, I promise everything's okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

He knew what they were going to have to do. They were going to have to sedate (Y/n) to stitch her up and send her for an X-ray and an MRI. That was the only way anyone other than Eddie was going to get near her.

He continued to sway them from side to side, his lips murmuring quiet words into her hair that (Y/n) could barely register.

"I'm gonna kill him for this."

[iloveboysinred]

cw; gn reader, oral (m receiving), degradation, true form! Sukuna, minimal editing, (its almost 5am), long ass drabble, MDNI

Masterlist

“Allow them to enter.”

Anxiety weighed on your chest as the heavy metal doors slowly parted, allowing the dim red lighting to wash over you. You willed every atom in your body to not take a single step back when you met his gaze. It felt like you were going against the biological hardwire in your brain telling you to flee, instead rooting your feet to the ground as you tried to ease your nerves. The malicious energy radiating off of him was making your heart pound and suddenly you felt nausea, your stomach twisting in apprehension as you stepped into the throne room, the floor under your bare feet making your blood feel as cold as ice.

“Holding your head high in the presence of your king, hm? Bow your head or die where you stand, pet.” He needn’t raise his tone for you to hear the authority in his voice, and he didn’t need to ask you twice either, your knees folding under you as you kneeled without a second thought. “Quite obedient.. Uraume, you are excused from your tending. I will call for you once you are needed.” You could only hear the soft “yes, master Sukuna” and the soft pattering of feet walk past you before you were alone with him. You waited with baited breath for what he would do next, the rapid pound of your heartbeat the only thing you could hear in the chilling silence.

“On your feet.” His gruff voice commanded, cutting through the silence so suddenly it made you flinch. Hastily, you got to your feet, your fists clenching at your sides as you faced him. He sat on his throne with his cheek comfortably leaned against his fist. His other three arms laid lazily over the arm rests. His silky kimono parted at the top revealing the strong plains of his chest, inky black markings etched into his skin in shapes you didn’t understand. You stood rigid in his presence, your eyes tracking down every curve and line in his muscular body, guiltily trying to push down the warmth you felt in your stomach. “Step forward. Don’t just stand there” there it was, that feeling of panic again. You could tell he sensed your fear, his eyes glinting as he watched you. All your senses were telling you to run. But you knew better than that. He would catch you, Sukuna always caught you.

Reluctantly, you walked towards his throne, your eyes downcast in an effort to appease him. You kneeled once more before him, your face now at eye level with his knees. his upper body loomed above you, Sukuna watching you closely. You felt your mouth moisten as your eyes strayed a little too far, your gaze cementing itself on the impressive bulge straining against the fabric of his kimono. You looked up at him from where you were, catching the sultry smile spreading across his face. “Well? I’m curious as to what you will do now” he shifted in his seat, his lower set of arms reaching down towards you, bringing you closer to his massive body.

You closed your eyes tight when you felt the weight of his palm pressed hard against your back, reaching forward to find purchase on his upper thigh. Taking a deep breath, you began to move the fabric of his kimono up, up until his straining length was revealed, hanging heavily between his legs. He smirked down at you, watching you grab the weighty appendage in your hand, stroking it from base to tip over and over, trying to build the confidence to take him into your mouth fully. “Come now…don’t keep me waiting..” his fingers teasingly threaded through your hair, the uncharacteristically affectionate touch making you feel the complete opposite of comfort. A lion toying with its prey.

It thrilled you, to be at his mercy. You felt your core tighten with arousal as you teased his tip with your tongue, swirling around the sensitive frenulum, and laying a flat, wide stripe with your tongue over the tip and down the shaft. Your hands came up to knead his balls, holding them with care, squeezing and rolling them around the palm of your hand. “Clever slut you are, hm? Show me what else you can do.” His words didn’t betray his arousal, but the dusting of red creeping up his skin and the sweat lining his forehead let you know that he was pleased, his eyes were glossy as they tracked your every move, his breath deepening with every drag of your tongue across his veins.

You took in a breath, swallowing the better part of his length the best you could, feeling the burn from the stretch as your throat tried to accommodate his length. Tears sprung to your eyes, hot and heavy against your lash line as you struggled to breathe, bobbing your head over his dick. You gagged, feeling his swollen cockhead bruise your throat with every intake. His lap was a mess beneath you, drool and snot dribbling down your face as you tried to take him whole, your eyes squeezing tight as your nose nestled against the wet bed of his pubic bone, the frothy mess of agitated spit against your nose almost made you want to recoil, but you kept on— pulling back up to swallow him down again, fighting against the ache in your jaw and throat.

Sukuna watched the whole ordeal with an amused expression on his face. His heavy hand gripped the back of your head, pulling you off of him to look you over. Your hair was disheveled and your eyes were unfocused. He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him as he watched you struggle to regain your breath. “You’ve entertained me more than enough, whore.” He sneered, his lower set of arms picking you up to promptly set you on his lap, smirking as you shook in his grasp. His upper hand roughly grasped your chin, forcing your gaze to directly meet his. “Disgusting.” He hissed, pulling your mouth onto his to kiss you rough. Stealing your breath away once again as his tongue slotted against yours. He pulled away from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips, his chin now wet with your drool. Just as fast you were back on the hard ground again, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

“You have yet to please your king, dove. Kneel before me again, and i’ll show you the proper way to pleasure me.”

[lxkeee]

IT'S BEEN SO LONG

-PART THREE

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Adopted! Fem angel! Reader [platonic!]

fandom: Hazbin Hotel

genre: fluff and cute

notes: a little bit short but meh

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR ❘ NAVIGATION

“Now... Where's that body...?” [y/n] muttered, looking at the golden holographic map that was coming out of her wrist watch, a blinking dot flickers on the holographic screen. She scrunched up her nose as the scent of smoke, dust, and blood fills her nostrils. I do hope my father is living somewhere far better than the streets of hell, this place is nasty. She thought before shaking her head.

She looked up ahead to see the hotel by the cliff, looking back at the hologram—it seems the body is somewhere by the hotel.

“You have got to be kidding me.” [y/n] muttered underneath her breath. She looked around—no one in sight, with a snap of her fingers, her angel wings disappeared along with her halo that transformed into a golden Laurel wreath that is on her head. Her usual white and gold dress transformed into a plain black one.

“There, I think this is a good camouflage.” she murmured to herself, adjusting her sling back before eventually beginning to trek the cliff towards the hotel.

Finally arriving, she got a good look at the name of the hotel—Hazbin Hotel, very witty, she thought.

“Isn't this the hotel Charlotte Morningstar made? If she's Lucifer's daughter, then does that mean she's my younger step sister?” she wondered before shrugging. Deciding not to knock on the hotel doors and go straight to where Adam's supposed dead body is—which is buried underneath a pile of rubble somewhere a few meters away from the hotel. Truly sad to see but the man got it coming—he was an asshole, to think he was the first man and the first soul to go to heaven but died in hell.

Why do we need to bring him back up again? Oh right... God's favorite.

[Y/n] sighs loudly, moving her hand over the hologram and a keyboard appears. Her fingers danced across the screen as she requested some angel workers to retrieve it.

She sighs, turning back to look at the hotel behind her. Now to get a report on what exactly happened, she thought. I wonder if dad is there? She wondered to herself, she really wanted to see him and hug him, she truly missed her father after all.

Her heels clicked the cement pavement as she walked back to the front of the hotel, climbing up the few steps of stairs till she finally reached the tinted glass front doors.

Maybe I should wear my halo? To let them know I'm from heaven?

She thought and hummed before nodding to herself, snapping her fingers and her halo was once more on top of her head, glowing in angelic pride and power.

She took a deep breath, I can do this. She thought before curling her fingers into her knuckles, bringing it up and then knocking on the glass doors.

Knock, knock, knock.

Charlie stopped talking to Vaggie and Alastor when they heard a knock from the front door, Charlie's eyes sparkled excitedly. A visitor or perhaps a guest?!

“My~ it seems we have a guest, dear.” Alastor grins, leaning against his microphone, “Perhaps after the extermination, it gave hope to these hopeless sinners.” he added, his smirk widening.

Charlie grinned, she too hoped that would be the case.

Vaggie placed a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, giving Charlie a reassuring smile, “You got this, babe.” she says and Charlie nodded, adjusting her clothes to look presentable.

With a deep breath she walked towards the door, trying to calm her excited heart.

Charlie finally held the handle of the door, opened it and.... A woman slightly taller than her is standing outside, a smile on her face and wait a minute, is that a halo?!

Charlie's eyes widened, she can practically feel the woman's power radiating off her, dare she say it's stronger than Adam's.

She's nervous, almost scared even. What is an angel doing here?

“A pleasant evening, are you perhaps Charlotte Morningstar?” the woman asked, her voice gentle and smooth to the ear, it calms Charlie down. Making the princess of hell lower her guard a bit before she shakes her head. I need to be on guard, I don't know what she wants and I need to be ready.

Charlie took a deep breath before giving the angel a smile, “Yes, that is me! Is there something you need from me? I didn't know heaven would be sending someone today.” she says and the angelic woman chuckled.

“It was so sudden that we couldn't send an advance notice.” The angel chuckled softly and Charlie just looked at her in confusion.

“But to make things easier, I am here to collect Adam's body and also collect data to file a report of what exactly happened during the recent extermination.” The angel says, sighing and slumping her shoulders. Charlie could tell that the woman was annoyed by the situation.

Charlie looked at the woman with slight hesitancy, “Is that all...?” she asked, nervously and the angel nodded.

“Certainly,” She smiles before her eyes widened and she gives Charlie a small and short bow, “How rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself. I am [Y/n], one of heaven's messengers. It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Morningstar.” [Y/n] says with a smile, offering her hand for a handshake in which Charlie returned. Charlie shivered slightly as she felt how cold the angel's hands were.

The name certainly rings a bell to Charlie, she swore she heard that name before then her eyes widened, don't tell me..? The name, the very cold hands... Is this the girl her dad was talking about?

“Are you... My dad's adopted daughter...?” Charlie questioned, her voice almost a whisper and [Y/n]'s eyes softened.

So he does remember me. [Y/n] thought, a smile on her face.

“Yes, that is indeed me, so dad talked about me huh?” she answered and asked and Charlie's smile widened, her big sister is here!

Charlie chuckled, “Yeah, he told me about you recently.” she says with a shrug and [Y/n] giggles, “Well, at least he didn't forget about me.”

Charlie smiled, moving away from the door so [Y/n] can enter, “Of course, he didn't. Oh, please do come in.”

[Y/n] nodded with a smile, “Thank you.” she says and enters the hotel.

“Do you want me to tell him that you're here? Do you want to see him?” Charlie asked, guiding the angel through the hotel's hallway that leads to the lobby where the bar is.

[Y/n] smiled, “Please do, it's been ages since I've last seen him.” she says, almost pleading and Charlie smiled, whipping out her phone to text her dad before returning it back to her pocket. Her dad is back at the palace as he had some things to get from his room.

“I am sure he misses you too, how about we finish that report while we wait?” Charlie suggested and [Y/n] nodded, “That's a good idea.”

Lucifer was in his room, arranging some things into a box. He heard his phone beep and opened it to see a text from his daughter.

Come back to the hotel as soon as possible, someone wants to see you and it is someone important.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, wondering who could possibly be looking for him. He shrugs, they can wait.

He returned his phone back to his pocket and continued on putting the rubber ducks inside the boxes.

Another beep was heard and he sighed, opening to see another text from Charlie.

If you're wondering who could possibly be looking for you, their name is [Y/n];)

Lucifer never teleported so fast in his entire life.

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @avitute @lbcreations-blog @dreamzaremyrealityy @des-deswain5621 @snoozewritezz @uiquz @randomuser-89 @flowerboy4eva @apollobeans @des-deswain5621 @sirenetheblogger @astitikeslay

[praisetheaxolotl]

The Arsonist Theory, Part 3: Journey to the Vicious Spiral Nebula

Part 1: Mandibles!

Part 2: We Get It, The Billboard Was A Metaphor

I want to take a step back for a moment. Look at the bigger picture of Gravity Falls as a whole, and at the relationship between narrative foils that are the protagonists and antagonists of a story.

But first, just a recap: For anyone new, the Arsonist Theory proposes that Bill was not the sole person responsible for the destruction of his home dimension-- there was a third party, an accomplice that used him like he uses others now.

Once again:

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOK OF BILL, INCLUDING SOLUTIONS TO CIPHERS

On we go!

Gravity Falls is, at its core, a story about cycles.

More specifically, it's a story about the vicious cycles that enable bad behavior- both personal spirals, and cyclical patterns of behavior in families.

We see this most obviously with the Stan twins, with both personal and familial cycles. In the personal side of things, Stan broke Ford's perpetual motion machine, resulting in his parents disowning him and Stan vowing that they were wrong and they'd see that one day, only for every attempt to prove them wrong about him to backfire and get him into even worse trouble, each failure further cementing his reputation more and more as a lying, dishonest criminal-- hey, where have I heard this one before?

On Ford's side, he erroneously trusted Bill and was consumed by both the portal and, once he realized he'd made it, his mistake itself. Even after Bill's death, he's terrified of him-- the mistake consumes him, eats him up inside. However, every time he attempts to subdue Bill on his own without confiding in his family the full story for fear of their judgement, it all ends up making everything worse. The incident with the portal and Stan? It was because he refused to tell Stan what exactly was going on, deciding to keep it all to himself out of guilt and lash out instead of admitting that he'd trusted the wrong person and that he was in grave danger-- hey, I might have heard this one before, too!

On the familial side of things, the Pines twins' parents don't exactly have the best relationship, as revealed in the Book Of Bill.

That fight must have been pretty bad to give Dipper, a kid who's survived the APOCALYPSE, nightmares. The Pines family has been shaped by familial dysfunction, and now it's been passed on-- the Stan twins' parents weren't exactly the healthiest parents, especially Filbrick. It's plain to see that that dysfunction was passed down from generation to generation, until it hit the Pines twins' parents as well.

And hell, Dipper and Mabel almost being broken apart as well-- not only because of Ford offering Dipper an apprenticeship without considering Mabel, mirroring how he sees Stan as dead weight, but also because of their parents fighting. Mabel didn't want to go home to that environment alone, and Dipper wanted to be far, far away from it. The Stan twins were broken apart by their father, and now the Pines twins will be broken apart by the Stans.

Except... that's not what happened, was it?

The Pines twins didn't let this break them apart. Dipper ended up prioritizing his sister and caring about her and her feelings, without just writing her off as deadweight the way Ford did to Stan. And eventually, the Stan twins also reconciled. They broke the cycle, as protagonists in a story with a happy ending tend to do.

Bill, as their antagonistic foil, would therefore be perpetuating cycles like this, instead of breaking them.

Then it stands to reason that, from a Doylist perspective, wouldn't it make sense for Bill to have been a victim of the same kind of manipulation and deceit that he now inflicts onto others?

In fact, we already have an example of Bill being hurt by someone, then going on to pass that same pain onto someone else:

Even though this is a silly example, we've been given canonical evidence that the way Bill deals with trauma is to take it out on someone else. And let's be real, Gravity Falls is rife with examples of something seemingly silly at first but ending up to hold emotional weight for the characters involved. Take in point Stan's attachment to Wax Stan.

So, we've established the cycles present in Gravity Falls and Bill's thematic role as the antagonist leading to him perpetuating instead of breaking cycles. So, what does that mean for this theory?

Bill and Ford are already presented as foils to each other- they're both outcast individuals with both a strange personality and a mutation that make them unpalatable to others, with a sordid home life, who eventually make a huge supernatural mistake with apocalyptic consequences. So, it's natural to wonder: what if their parallels extend even beyond this?

Ford initially blamed himself for being foolish enough to fall for Bill's tricks, placing the blame largely on himself. However, his family was there for him to pull him out of that way of thinking and help him move past it. Bill, in contrast, didn't have a family, ergo he had no one to pull him out of a similar rut. And we see multiple times throughout the Book of Bill and the Axolotl's poem that he does regret what happened to Euclidia, and his role in causing the massacre, so it's not out of the question to think that maybe, his thinking followed a line similar to Ford's. That there was someone that took advantage of Bill's desire to make everyone understand, and Bill blamed himself both for falling for it and for being ineffectual in stopping it.

Ford was at a standstill and approached by Bill, who was a genuine friend in a lifetime of loneliness and who presented himself as a friend, only to be used by him to create a portal that Bill was going to use for destruction-- perhaps Bill went through the same sequence, as victim instead of perpetrator?

Did you know that most perpetrators of abuse are themselves victims of abuse? They grow up without healing from their past traumas, and end up inflicting it onto others, thus continuing the cycle.

(Here's a fun fact- that's actually what my first theory ever was about, before this blog!)

Anyway, to me it's becoming clearer and clearer-- there's a glaringly obvious thematic parallel here that very neatly supports the idea of someone having used Bill in this manner in the past.

Oh, and by the way- on Time Baby's report on Bill, a translated cipher refers to him as the "Lone survivor of the Euclidian Massacre"

Lone survivor? If he'd acted alone, wouldn't it say "perpetrator?" If Time Baby knew enough to know what dimension he was a survivor of despite Bill himself never even speaking its name, then he should know enough to know the story of what happened. There's always the possibility that he didn't, but I saw fit to mention it.

In part four, everything is gonna be tied together as neatly as I can, with some present-day clues from Bill's actions that point to certain parts of his trauma being linked together that, on their own, seem a bit... reach-y, but with three posts of evidence backing them, they hold more water than that.

Part 4: Blame The Arson, Not The Fire

[hellsburners]

pain and suffering

summary: to which criminals run from the shadows, and the shadows run home to you. pairing: frank castle x male reader x matt murdock word count: 4k warnings: 18+ warning, unprotected s3x, dom!mattfrank, bottom!reader, double pen3tration, blowj0bs, mentions of violence a/n: i got this request like a whole month ago and im sorry to anon it took me a while to think of this

masterlist | more matt murdock

gif credit for frank & matt

The night air looms over Hell’s Kitchen. A normal person might hear the honking of cars and the loud chitchat of people in the street, but to a man like Daredevil, he hears everything. He hears Sally from down the street, crying as her husband comes home drunk, or Dominic, stealing another purse to pay for his brother’s medical bills. The city is not just a cluster of sounds for a man like the Devil, it’s a war cry. His city needs help, so he braces for the jump, a leap into the battlefield.

To him, pain and suffering is a saint. The pain of every hit, every jab, and every punch. To Matt Murdock, the pain of getting hit is like lashing for every sin he’s made. He is the fist of God, the guardian angel of the Kitchen, his suffering is the price for the safety of his people. So to him, yes, pain and suffering is the saint that guides him, the adrenaline to jump, to fight, to stand back up and fight again because he knows if he doesn’t, worse men will. 

He sits wounded on top of a building, the hanging laundry hiding him from plain sight. He pants, blood gushing from his lower rib. But then he smells it: gunpowder. The sound of clanking metal and rubber boots walking closer to him. He knows that smell, the smell of danger, the smell of bad news, the smell of The Punisher.

“They hit ya’ pretty bad tonight Red,” his rough voice roared across the building. He smells of blood, not his blood, but the blood of at least thirty other men. 

“I don’t need your help, Frank,” Matt said, wincing as he tried to stand. 

“I doubt that,” he was closer to Matt, he took the rear end of his rifle and pressed it to Matt’s wound, he cried out in pain. “See?”

“I don’t need any help from you.”

“That’s your problem, Red. You’re so self-righteous. You’re out here bleeding yourself to death thinking God sent you here on earth to be his punchin’ bag,'' he puts the rifle down, the metal butt hitting the floor. “You think your God can miraculously heal your wounds? The Devil ain’t no saint.” 

“And you’re any better?” Matt spat. “You wear that skull on your chest and you think that gives you the license to be a killer?” he licks his dried-up lips, the wounds weighing on him. “You’re a beast, Frank. A wild creature with no self-control, bloodthirsty, and—and inhumane.”

Frank was right, but Matt’s pride would never take any help from Frank Castle, he’s a murderer, a cold-blooded killer, and men like him have no place roaming the streets of New York. Matt tries to walk away from Frank, he could feel the blood drip into his waist, his head dizzy. Before he could even reach a meter away from Frank he feels the pull of the earth and drops into the cement floor, out cold. 

“Dumbass,” Frank spat.

—

To Frank Castle, pain and suffering is a weapon. 

Pain is the bullet to the head of a wife beater, a pedophile, a human trafficker, and any other demented fuck that helps in spreading crime in his city. He sniffs in the scent, it’s nauseating, the smell of garbage and piss, the smell of dead bodies piled in a heap for the cops to find. The blood pooled on his boots, painting them red. He reloads the gun, pulling on the lever that locks the bullet in the barrel, ready for the trigger. 

“Please, man. I have a wife and two kids,” the bald man begged. His shirt was soaked in blood, a bullet grazed his hip. He walks backward achingly, his back hitting the wall. “Fuck, man I swear I don't know anything ‘bout this! ”the man kneels in front of Frank, his hands together like he’s praying. 

Pain is the bullet that ends all suffering. 

Bang!

The man falls on the concrete, blood dripping out of his skull. Frank wipes the blood splatter on his face with his sleeve. He takes the pistol and slides it into the holster on his thigh. He grabs the man’s sleeve and pulls him into the heap. No loose ends. 

Frank takes his rifle and leaves. Taking the rooftops so the cops won’t see him. His body is sore, but it was never a hindrance. He sees a red blur across the building. The Devil himself, running from a bunch of men. Frank notices the Devil walking strangely, a hand on his left to cover a bleeding wound. 

He takes the sniper rifle and aims it at the four men searching for the masked vigilante. He reloads the rifle, and one by one the men drop dead. The Devil was clueless as to where the bullets came from. He walks over to the wounded man, lumped over the side of a rooftop wincing in pain. 

Frank had always admired the Devil’s determination, always standing back up after a fight, the line he wouldn’t cross, it amused Frank in a way. He liked to toy with it, always putting the red vigilante in positions where his moral code is tested. 

You know you’re one bad day away from becoming like me. 

Frank once told him, and he guessed it wasn’t true. Despite how hard the world hit him, he never crossed that line. That’s why when the Devil ended up face down on the concrete floor he took his body into his shoulder. Carrying his body to the only place he knew would understand the situation. To the person that knew the creed of pain and suffering. 

He stands in front of the wooden door, the door was locked. Not his first instinct to knock, because he knew he would always be let in. He knocked on the door, no answer. He knocked louder, banging on the door, the sounds echoing throughout the hallway.

“Jesus Christ, people will hear you,” you said, answering the door. 

— 

To you, pain and suffering is a curse. The curse that binds people to hospital beds for years, slowly rotting into the sheets as more and more medicine gets pumped into their veins. The curse that brings people into the emergency room, stabbed my knives, with broken knees, amputated fingers, and gunshot wounds through bone and muscle. 

You earn money from pain and suffering. Doctor’s fees from people you know can’t even afford it. You always wanted to give them pro-bono, but you weren't loaded like that. That’s why when injured vigilantes were involved, everyone in the New York underground knew your number. 

You had known people like Maya Lopez, Misty Knight, Ben Reilly, Ty Johnson, and Tandy Bowen alongside other masked heroes. That’s why when The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen arrived at your door four months ago you didn’t second guess your decision to help him. To you, helping these people would absolve you of being complicit in the suffering of innocent people in the hospital. 

“Got your number from Spider-man, hope you don’t mind,” he said, sprawled on your kitchen table covered in blood. His muscular body contracted from the pain as you sewed his wounds shut. You never truly cared about forming connections with your clients, it was more of a get-patched-up-and-leave type of way. 

He would often flirt with you whenever he came by, his dimples forming under his mask whenever he smiled or laughed. “Don’t worry Doc’ I’m a big boy,” he said, smiling at you. The smile quickly faded when you dug into his skin to retrieve the bullets on his bicep, a groan leaving his lips. You tried not to think about it, but he's pretty cute. 

On one night, a man banged on your door, you rushed to meet a shadow drenched in blood as if it was raining blood from the sky, a white skull on his chest. His hoarse voice groaned as you took him into your kitchen. Multiple bullet wounds, and gashes on his chest, in your personal opinion a person with that many injuries would've ended up on the morgue. 

“Did you fall into a meat grinder? What the hell,” you said. You tried your best to patch him up but he needed some blood transfusions. 

“Check the bag,” he groaned. Inside were bags of blood from the hospital, all type O, what the fuck. 

He stayed in your house for two nights, you checked his vitals every hour to make sure he was still alive. This hasn’t happened before, you’ve never had a client that was on the brink of death. It was always some minor injury, but this man managed to wake up and stand after two days to leave. 

You found a bundle of one hundred dollar bills in your mailbox the next day. 

—

“Bring him to the couch,” you said. You took Matt’s body as Frank carried his legs, you took his limp body into the sofa, a deep wound on the torso, an easy fix for you at this point. It has been months since you first met the two men in your apartment. You’ve spent multiple nights helping them, in your apartment, or Matt’s, or Frank’s bunker. You were technically associated with them to the point that you know their real names. 

“The emergency kit is on the kitchen counter.” 

“Got it Doc,” Frank saluted, removing his trench coat and his bulletproof vest, his muscular form bulging through his black shirt. They reeked of blood, you could taste the iron on your tongue. 

Matt’s eyes fluttered, his head turning to the sound of your voice. “Hey,” he said, groaning through the pain. You cut his undershirt open, the wound gushing out blood. You took some gauze to soak the viscous liquid, making sure the clotting starts. 

“Sit your ass down, Red,” Frank ordered. You managed to sew the wound shut, you gave Matt some pain relievers as his eyes fell back into sleep. You let him rest for a bit, covering him in a fleece blanket. You walked towards Frank, a few cuts on his arms, he was already in the middle of sewing some of them before you helped. “Don’t worry about me, it’s nothin’”

“Make sure you don’t die in my kitchen this time,” you said, walking to the kitchen sink to rinse your bloodied hands. You opened your refrigerator to grab a drink. “Want a beer?”

“Sure,” Frank nods.

You took a cold beer from your fridge, the metal caps clanking on the floor. You handed him the bottle, he took a big swig like he was thirsty for water, some liquid falling from the corner of his lips. He sat on a wooden chair, legs spread, the hem of his shirt raising a bit to show a peak of his abdomen. 

Matt soon woke up. Much to your disagreement, taking a beer of his own. He took a seat in your dining area, topless with bandages around his torso. The three of you are looking at each other around the table. “So–what happened tonight?” you asked. 

Matt’s frown was deadset. Frank taking gulps of his second bottle of beer. You were taking sips of your bottle, looking at the heated tension between the two. It was annoyingly anxiety-inducing. “You know, I don’t know what’s the point of talking to you two—I’m a physician, not a therapist.” 

“You need to stay away from him,” Matt said, his lips a straight line. “He’s a dangerous person with nothing good going on for his pathetic life.”

“Boohoo! Little catholic boy here feels entitled about being god’s little bitch,” Frank spat. “Is that what you think bitch boy?”

“See? He’s an immature old fuck that thinks the world’s answer to violence is guns and bullets,” Matt said, downing his beer.

“He’s just using his lawyer bullshit on you,” Frank said.

You rolled your eyes, it’s always like this, them bickering. You downed the beer, the bitter taste running through your tongue. You set it down with a loud clunk. The two men halted their bickering. 

“I’m not taking sides but I think both of you are annoying cry babies that should just kiss and make out!” the two men frowned their brows. “You bicker like an old couple—the two of you need to suck it up because, at the end of the day, the two of you leave a trail of blood in this city that I clean!” you shouted.“You know how many people end up in the emergency room thanks to you two, I don’t even keep count of them anymore.”

Matt called for your name, to apologize or something, but you took another bottle of beer and gulped on the bubbly drink. Instead of talking you took his lips to yours, the bitter taste of his mouth shared with yours. His hands come to your neck, fingers wrapping around the flesh as his tongue meets yours. You smell his clean shampoo mixing with the alcohol, he smelled like a man who took hygiene seriously.

You pull back to walk towards Frank, bending down to kiss him, pressing on his shoulder with your hands to guide you. The bitter taste of both of your mouths intoxicates you. He grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling you in more. He smelled of cheap soap and gunpowder. You pulled away to catch them frozen, feet glued to the floor, aghast.

“See,” you rubbed your hands. “Not hard at all.” 

Frank was biting his lip chuckling, his fingers massaging his lip. He pulled you to his lap, kissing you harder, his hands falling to your ass. Your hands run through his dark hair, his stubble pricking your face. You moaned from the contact, Matt’s enhanced senses making the sound echo in his head. He hesitated but his groin turned to the noises you made. Frank’s lips fall to your neck, nibbling on the skin eliciting more lewd noises from you. 

“See this red?” he said. “This little slut likes it.”

“Play with his ear, he likes it,” Matt ordered. Frank hadn’t known that.

“He also likes it when I do this,” he pinches your nipples, and you shudder from the slight pain. The two men didn’t know that you had experiences of having sex with them on different occasions. “So you’re a little whore huh, you do this to all of your clients?”

“No—,” you gasped. “Just you two.”

Matt chuckled. Frank had set you on his lap so that you were facing Matt, his hands playing with both of your nipples as he left purple hickeys all over your neck. Matt had knelt in front of you palming your growing erection. The ache in your groin grows from the lack of release. Tonight these men offer you more pain and suffering but in ways that elicit nothing but pleasure. 

He takes your trousers off leaving you with nothing but your shirt, finally something to ease the pain. Matt stood to open his pants, his thick cock standing tall, the hairs neatly trimmed. “Take his dick inside your mouth,” Frank whispered, while he stretched your legs open so his fingers could tease your hole. He took his fingers to your mouth making it wet.

Matt’s hands ran through your hair, his tip teasing your swollen lips. As you took his length into your mouth, Frank's finger entered your hole curling inside drawing out muffled sounds from your mouth. You were quickly bent over by Frank, his head in between your ass cheeks licking and fingering your hole, while your head was bobbing up and down on Matt’s cock. 

Frank smacked your ass so hard it left a red print as he continued to toy with your rear. Matt groaned as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. Frank pulled you back with your hair, popping Matt’s cock out with a string of saliva. It was painful the way they carried you, but in some sick twist of events, it turned you on even more. 

“My turn,” Frank said, as he takes your mouth to his sex, you engulf his thick uncut cock, your nose hitting his unkempt hair taking in his scent. Matt bent down to toy with your hole, curling and stretching two fingers inside you stimulating your prostate. You were turning your lips as you sucked on Frank’s cock, a hoarse groan leaving his mouth as he grabbed onto your hair tightly. 

Matt stroked your cock as he moaned, eating you out with his wet tongue and playing with the rim of your hole. Frank took control of your mouth, fucking into it like you’re his sex toy, his cocking hitting the roof of your mouth at a constant speed. Frank could feel his climax coming so he pulls out leaving you a wet mess next to Matt. 

“Can I fuck you?” Matt asked. You nod, taking them into your bedroom. 

Frank undressed and took a seat on the small sofa chair in the corner of the room, stroking his hard cock. You were on all fours on the bed, facing Frank. His eyes glued to you as he stroked. Matt lubes your hole before slowly pressing his cock into your hole. You gasped as he sheathed into you. Frank smirked, this turned him on even more, his large arms contracting as he stroked his cock.

Matt started to fuck you slowly, his hips slapping your ass. He started to let out guttural moans, his hips becoming rigid as he gripped onto your waist, his nails digging into your skin. He bends down to kiss your neck, rutting into you, his hard thrusts ramming into you. “I’m close,” he moaned. He jerks your cock to the point that you yelp out, cum shooting out of your cock as he continues to jerk his hips before he emptied inside you, a deep groan leaving his lips as his cum fills you. You two collapsed on the bed, his body weight on top of you. 

“Move over Red,” Frank said, looming over you as Matt moves over before Frank mounts you. Matt’s cum formed a slippery lube that made Frank’s cock ease its way as it thrusts. Your body was still weak from your high. He grabs onto your hair as he ruts into you, continuing his hard pace against your body. “You like that?” he said, stroking your sore cock back to hardness. 

“Ye–yes, fuck,” you moaned. 

Matt was at the edge of the bed, soothing your hair as he peppered kisses all over your face. The bed creaked as Frank humped you, veins popping across his arms as his grip on you tightened, you’re sure it would leave marks. He pulled out, leaving you to gasp from the sudden lack of fullness. He sits back on the headboard of your bed, legs sprawled as he gestures for you to ride him. You mount yourself on his hardness, sitting on his thick and hairy thighs. Matt sits on the edge of the bed, his erection coming back from the sight of you two. 

“Take it like a good boy,” Frank praises. You hold onto his chest as you feel the hardness enter you, some of Matt’s cum leaking out. You take Frank’s lips, you now realize how abrasive his stubble was. You move your hips around and around, Frank lets out curses here and there. He pulls your head back, littering your neck with more marks, his fingers find your nipples, teasing them to draw out more moans from you.

Franks sees Matt on the side, his hard already leaking precum just from watching you take Frank’s cock. He calls for Matt to come to you two, to join back in. You feel Matt’s fingertips on your skin, your body is now so filled with stimulation, his mere touch driving you wild. You feel his erection on your back, his lips attached to your shoulders. He takes his leaking cock and presses into your hole, the size alongside Frank’s was a tight fit, your breathing quickens from all the pressure. The two men made sure to guide you and praise you as you take both of their lengths. 

You cry out from the sensation. Frank takes your lips to stifle your cries, tears fall from your eyes as your tongues touch, and Matt inches to join your kiss. The three of you kiss into the pain, The two men slowly moving inside you. The pressure was so intense but the arousal overcame, your sex was so hard, leaking so much into Frank’s abdomen. They start to thrust, Matt could feel his sensitive frenulum rub on Frank’s, it made his eyes roll back, his senses overflowing. 

All of you reeked of sex, the sounds of slapping skin and wet tongues fighting for dominance against the grunts and moans. The constant rocking was making the bed hit the wall, the mattress moved as if there were an earthquake. You were all covered in sweat, hair sticking onto skin, Hands gripping the wooden headboard, fingertips roaming skin, and tongues lashing on each other. 

Everything felt like a blur to you, you were being rocked back and forth like a playground swing, your core sore from the fucking, and there were pairs of hands all over you touching your most sensitive spots. You could feel the climax, creeping into your body tingling your coccyx to the highest peak of your spine. You felt their erratic thrusts, Frank was a groaning mess under you, his neck all red and his face flushed. Matt was a noisy mess on your ear, cursing and calling your name like a prayer, his arm wrapped around your waist as he fucked. 

You were at your peak, arousal overflowed from your body into theirs. Their cum filling into you. You all yelped out in pleasure as you rode your highs. Frank dug his hands into your thighs as Matt hid his forehead on your shoulder, rutting their fill into you. The next few minutes came to you in flashing lights, like fireworks spraying colored lights all over the room. 

You woke up the next day to two heavy bodies at your sides. Matt’s arms around your waist with your head resting on Frank’s chest. All of you reeked of sweat and cum. As you turned you saw Matt’s eyes flutter, his long lashes flicking as his golden eyes beamed under the sunlight. 

“Sorry about last night,” he whispered. 

“Why? I had fun,” you said, peppering kisses all over his cheeks. 

“You sure?” he said, as he rubbed his thumbs on your cheeks. 

“Pretty sore but nothing a pain reliever won’t fix,” you said. 

“I guess you’re right, making out fixes everything,” Frank said, his voice deeper. He joins you and Matt, pressing kisses all over your shoulders. Matt takes this as a sign to kiss you all over your neck, their hands snaking all over your body. “What’s good for breakfast around here?” Frank said in between kisses.

“There’s a good diner across the street,” Matt said, leaving soothing kisses on the marks they left on your neck. Your body was so sore and painful, but these men made sure to make it up to you. You woke up last night to them cleaning you up, Matt wiping you with a damp cloth and Frank rummaging through your closet to grab something for you to wear. Despite their rough lifestyles, they made sure you were taken care of. Maybe a little less pain and suffering next time though. 

“But first,” you said, pulling away from them.” Shower.” 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

[minsyal]

She Was His

Tywin Lannister x Reader

Summary: Sad-ish.. Written fast and slowly at the same time. It’s been in my wip for… a few years now. Enjoy 💕 not mega edited, apologies for any grammatical thingies.

Word count: 2800

An overwhelming race of the steadfast beating in her chest exploded as soon as the fields were flooded with a haze of crimson. Flags waved proudly in the wretched wind of the summer day, creating a sea of blood upon the grassy plains. The first harvests of the summer crept in from the false spring of years past, providing the first taste of freshness in two years.

She could hear the heralds heralding from the gates of King’s Landing where forces encroached on the sky scraping walls. With enough focus, she could spot him riding in front. Rising gallantly from a white steed, the Lannister patriarch sat with a stiff back and cold resolve. Pleated drapery cascaded down from his broad shoulders to attach to his narrowed hips. Everything about him bled with an unwavering confidence, the same confidence that had stolen her heart from her intended many years previous.

“Princess.” The Master of Whispers was always lurking around corners and concealing himself within the shadows spoke. His hand was cold and plush against her shoulder as he delicately reached out to guide the princess away. “You should be in the Holdfast where it is safest.”

“There is no threat.” Her tone was resolute and her shoulders squared as she shook loose from his light hold. The Grand Maester was also nearby, listening as the two conversed. “Lord Tywin is here for our protection.” Her defense was as strong as the impenetrable stones holding the earth down. Beliefs cemented in centuries of faith grounded her as she, for the first time in years, felt a wave of calm wash over her body.

“A precious assumption from a naive heart.” He, Varys, paced the small space of the stone tower. “Have you considered-”

His words meant nothing to her for he spoke in an ill favor of her beloved lord. She would have none of his lies. Fleeing his presence, she joined the Grand Maester at the window’s ledge. Her fingers were warm against the cold stone that separated her from the open air. “It is anything but an assumption, my Lord.”

“Lord Tywin has not taken a stance during the Rebellion.” Varys tucked his chin to his chest as he eyed the silken fabrics that hung from his wrists. “Greeting the city with thousands of armed men often is not a welcoming sight. Should Lord Tywin decide that his faith with the crown has run thin, it will not end well for the Targaryen dynasty.”

“It will turn in our favor.” Pycelle insisted, pressing his shaking fingers to the heavy chains that hunched his back. “Lord Tywin has served the Targaryen dynasty valiantly and faithfully since the day he became Lord of Casterly Rock upon his father’s death. His heir serves in the King’s Guard and his daughter was set to wed Rhaegar.”

“The crowned-prince was slain on the Trident and Prince Rhaegar was wed to Elia Martell.” Varys reminded the room, though his words were not warm.

The mention of his name made her suddenly uncomfortable. “Rhaegar is dead, but that does not mean that Cercei’s love for him has ceased. She would have married him if not for my father’s decisions.” She pressed her hand firmly down on her stomach to quell the fluttering butterflies that bounced from its walls as she looked into the blinding glint of his crimson armor. “Let him in.”

“My princess,” Varys tone had become concerningly low, “do not allow your love for him to shroud your rational thought. There is a reason that Lord Tywin had not chosen a side in this war. At the death of your brother, he joins the battle. Does that not leave a bitter taste upon your tongue?”

“He will not allow us to crumble.” She defended, a sweat breaking out on her forehead. “He was my intended for many years. This is a way for him to finally have my father accept the betrothal. The Lannister army will assist us in quelling this rebellion once and for all.”

A hush fell over the room as the uneven footsteps of the king echoed up the stairwell. His were followed closely by another, a younger man covered in heavy armor. All eyes were focused directly on the painted wooden door that separated the overlook from the rest of the Keep.

Hobbling into the room, thin and frail, Aerys used any railing he could to maintain his balance. A wild look clouded his lilac eyes, fluctuating from pinpricks to full dilation. Nobody present was truly sure if he was aware of his surroundings. Behind him stood Jaime Lannister, a dashing young knight with hearts to spare. Though popular among the crowds of maidens, she wondered who he was truly interested in.

Pycelle and Varys plead their cases to the lone judge who seemed to go in and out of listening. His fingers shook as they gripped at the golden crown of tangled wings placed heavily atop his brittle hair. For a moment he pressed his thinning lips together and contemplated deeply in a way that she had not seen him do in decades. Deep in the cavernous depths of his mental prison, he listened to the voices that instructed him in his daily life. “Lord Tywin cannot be trusted, my king.” One voice, foreign and shrill, urged while the other, mature and shaken, suggested differently. “Lord Tywin will protect this city. He will end the rebellion.”

Aerys did not ponder on his options for an extended period of time. His decision was made in the filling of a lung as he muttered the few words aside from garbled madness he had in the past few months.

“Let him in.”

Those words seemed to mean nothing to Aerys as his eyes glazed back over from his position in the room. He did not look to his daughter nor his council who all dispersed throughout the throne room. Pycelle began his short jaunt to the front gates where he instructed a footsoldier to deliver word from the King that the gates should be opened to Lord Tywin.

“Come, princess.” Varys began to pull the princess’s arm, but found a stone wall beneath his fingertips. “We must get you somewhere safe.”

She was unmoving and uncaring of what the Master of Whispers had to say. Any words that came from his mouth were null in her mind.

“Princess, you must go now.” Varys pulled forcefully at the princess’s arm, so much so that the sleeve of her gown tore in his fingertips. Any other instance as such would leave a man without his head but an urgentness in his chest compelled him to act with ferocity. “Lord Tywin and his men are not here to ensure your safety.”

She couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe it.

All the years Tywin spent as Hand of the King he had vied for her hand. He had, on multiple occasions, taken her to spend the summer months in Casterly Rock where she could live freely and happily. He had planted seeds of safety in her core that had only cemented her trust in him, and hindered Varys’s attempts to guide the girl away.

None of it mattered, though. Tywin would get what he wanted in the end even if his desires had to adjust to the circumstances.

~~*~~

“What of the girl?” The path to King’s Landing had been an easy one, one that Lord Tywin had made many in the past.

Red velvet cloth draped thickly over the encampment that laid near the forking of Blackwater Rush. The room was occupied by a select few. The men within were to carry out the most heinous of crimes. Though reports conflict, it is generally accepted that the sinister deeds were ordered by the Lannister lord. In the distance laid their destiny, one that would alter timelines that had been set in stone for centuries.

Lord Tywin adjusted his jaw from where it had been clenched harshly to the right of center, keeping his lips pressed into a thin scornful line. “Leave her to me.”

~~*~~

Her feet could not carry her fast enough away from Varys. Echos of his pitchy voice rang through the walls and into her eardrums, beating away like sticks upon clashing cymbals. Heavy material glided across the floor, sweeping every bit of dirt and debris into its train as she ran desperately for the throne room. At the very least, she knew that Ser Jaime and her father would be there, waiting for their fates.

It was an odd moment of willful ignorance on the princess’s part. Deep in her heart she knew that she was running to her death. She was painfully aware of the chaos that ensued in and outside of the walls that had protected her for her entire life. The screaming in the streets were not joyous. No bells rang for celebration. Scarlet embers flecked with honeyed gold were not that of the evening sunset.

The screams were pained, filled and overflowing with an extinguishment of life. Sounds of bells were morphed from crumbling walls and pounding doors as foot soldiers stormed through the cobblestone streets. The evening sunset was not due for hours. Fires were set across the city, illuminating the rising smoke and ash that clouded the sky in a display of power.

She should have left.

Within the throne room, she was met with a sight that brought bile rising to the top of her throat. Churning upset her stomach and she heaved on a dry tongue. Though his skin had paled throughout the years, he looked particularly gaunt lying on the floor with ichor trickling from his neck. His fingers were curled into fists that bruised purple down to his wrists. Thin and stringy hair that once glittered in the vibrancy of the midday sun was now filled and bland, painted a shade of garnet similar to that of Lord Tywin’s armor.

If it weren’t for the circumstance, she could have said that Jaime looked particularly regal upon the Iron Throne. Downcast eyes focused on the glint of steel in his lap, concentrated rivet directed at the dense pressure that moved his shoulders downward.

“Ser Jaime?”

She could see the turmoil in his eyes as he looked up from his seat. The princess should have fled for Dragonstone, Jaime thought as she took heavy steps in his direction. He refused to listen to the nagging voice in his head telling him to do what was honorable. Her fate was already sealed.

“Ser Jaime?” She repeated, steps growing faster in speed and more uneven as she clutched at her chest and neared her father’s corpse.

“Ser Jaime? Please!” Anguished sorrow bled from her lips as she placed a hand gently over her father’s heart. It had not beat a single time in nearly ten minutes.

Footsteps fell in large groups from the Throne Room’s main entrance. The doors were left open from when she had come through them, allowing Tywin and his small garrison east entry.

Tywin Lannister stood there before her, his crimson armor dulled from bloodshed. Whose blood stained his chest, she did not know, but given his stature and ease of movement one could presume that he was relatively unharmed. A simple halting of his hand had the remaining infantrymen stalled in the doorway, the majority turning their backs to the room as they surveyed the hall outside. Tywin began his approach.

Faint screams bounced off the walls and into the rafters of the room, rising upward like plumes of heavy black smoke until they disappeared into the air. The princess was beside herself, her hands now red with her father’s ichor matching the front of her dress where he had bled as she groomed his hair out of his face. For all that he had put her through, he was still her father.

Tywin was upon her now, his face hardened as he watched her shoulders relaxing as the weight of her situation fully dawned on her. She turned to him then, eyes filled with tears that streamed down the contours of her face.

He had always thought of her to be particularly beautiful. In the warm summer months, he had spent many hours courting her in the privacy of his own home. There was a hope in him back then that they could wed and from their union would come heirs that he could marry off to solidify his power. Whether there was true love for her in there was questionable.

There was nothing about the princess he disliked. She was agreeable, fairly intelligent, and held onto his word like it had been written by the gods. Although, she did not worship him. A clear admiration for the man was displayed on her features, especially so when he was leading council meetings or sitting the throne in the place of her father. She had told him on many occasions that she wished to be able to hold the room the same way he did. In fact, there were many things he found he did like. Her company was comfortable, always melding into his presence as if she had always been there. No one would argue her beauty either. Similar in looks to that of her mother, the princess was soft and ethereal in appearance. She dressed in beautiful gowns and always smelled slightly of rose and mint. Even now in the chaos of the sacking, she held that same look.

“What does this mean for me?” The words fell like a feather from her lips, floating softly downward to the floor where her gaze was focused.

When no answer came from Tywin she turned and looked upward at him. “My lord?”

There were truthfully only two possibilities for her future and Tywin knew that.

He extended a hand down to her and stiffened when she accepted it and rose to meet his gaze. Trembling fingers wrapped around his. The entirety of her body was shaking. He took the opportunity to pull her into his chest despite the hardness of his armor. A gentle hand smoothed down the back of her hair and rested on the nape of her neck.

“What will come of me now?” She repeated, enjoying the way he embraced her. Calming to his touch, she deepened her hold on him.

“The war is over, princess.” Tywin hushed her tearful sobs, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head as her crying intensified. “The house of the dragon has fallen.”

The princess only looked into his emerald eyes when his gloved finger guided her vision upward. He knew he should not have allowed himself to indulge in the moment. Robert Baratheon would not let a Targaryen, especially the sister of Rhaegar, live peacefully. He personally saw to the death of the prince and Tywin did not intend to let him see to the princess’s end.

Knowing that no guard dared to turn their heads in their direction, Tywin drew the princess near and placed a light kiss to her lips. Their personalities in that moment were completely opposite. She was ravenous, starved of his touch and seeking validation in his arms. Her hands found the dimples of his waist, barely detectable through the armor, and rested there. If it were not for the metal, she would have dug crescents into his skin.

On the other hand, he was calm. A storm brewed in the pit of his stomach, but he did not show it.

She let out a soft breath when the cold metal sunk itself into her chest. Tywin held her still, not allowing her legs to give out. One hand held the blade firmly by his side, soaked in her blood. The other was cradling her body, holding her to his chest. An uncomfortable warmth oozed from the bodice of her dress. It added depth to the blood that already stained his breastplate.

Her lips parted to speak but nothing could come from her lungs for no air remained. Pleading questioning eyes met ones that would display sorrow and remorse if they could. It would be a cold day in hell before Tywin would admit what he had done was wrong. Every fiber of his being scolded him, but his own selfishness was not enough to start a war with a man who had just won his own.

Tywin knew that the only end for her that he would accept was the embrace of death. If not for his blade, Robert Baratheon would either have the princess killed or marry her to claim the throne. Selfishly, Tywin could not bear to see her wed to another.

She was his.

Her love, her body, her heart, and her death was his.

That was how it was supposed to be.

[novasdarling]

Hii🌹can i ask "It’s so dangerous out there. Can’t you see that?"

with yandere Chrollo please? Thanks🌹

HEHEHEHE this motherfucker would. He's delusional in the scheme of him being like "Yeah my darling is better than me than anywhere else." but also he knows it's just a lie he makes so he doesn't feel too ad when you cry about being with him

Dangerous Out There

TW: Kidnapping, Yandere Behaviour, Mentions of death, Mentions of punishment

The walls were plain and cold. Made of old cement bricks, leaving little room for any warmth or comfort. Any feelings sparking joy or tenderness were missing. Cold, bland, cruel. This jail cell represented the jailkeeper well. A void of happiness and delight was exactly what Chrollo was. Just this blackhole that took and took, destroying everything it touched and devoured.

However, no amount of sadness or begging changed his mind. Nothing let him declaw himself from you. No matter how much you begged these last few weeks, he refused to let go. Rather it seemed like your tears and pleas just made him dig deeper. Made him pull you closer to him, made him add more locks to the doors and windows. Like the more you begged and craved for freedom, the more he held onto you. The more he denied it. The more he felt like he needed to keep you locked away, keep you hidden. But you couldn't help the hope that pooled inside you. Hoping your begging would chip away at him. Make any sort of difference, cause him to feel any kind of remorse and let you go. A hope you would always hold onto.

Chrollo had made his way into the living room. Standing in the doorway, observing from behind as you watched one of the few movies he had provided when he first took you. You could recite it line by line.

"I know you're there."

"Your senses are getting better. Before you wouldn't have noticed me until you could see me."

Chrollo made his way forward, kneeling in front of you. Placing himself between your legs. It made your skin itch. You didn't give him an answer, even as he waited there. Starring up at you. You ignored him. Starring at the dumb movie in front of you. His hands squeezed your thighs.

"Most people say thank you after a compliment."

"Most people don't kidnap."

Chrollo laughed. Finding your response humorous. He always found your rebuttal funny and pleasant. Making it clear he enjoyed the bit of resistance you had. The wit that came with it. Your snappy remarks. It was fun for him, as long as you never went too far.

"Touché." Chrollo rubbed his knuckles over your cheek.

"Don't touch me."

Flinching away, you pushed him. Trying to create some distance from him. Trying to get the man you hated as far away as possible. He tried again, lifting his knuckles up to caress you, but you moved again. Denying him what he wanted twice.

"Enough."

He grabbed your arms. Trying to keep you still. Keeping himself between your legs and you caged.

"Let me go."

Chrollo held on. Dismissing your words as he wrestled you still.

"I want to go home."

Tears were forming in your eyes. You hated this, hated this man. Despised everything about all of this. How the hell did a charming stranger you bumped into one day turn into the man who was holding you captive? A man that killed and hurt people to get you. A man who had no boundaries.

"Let me go. I just want to go back. P-please. I won't tell anyone. I-I promise. I want to-"

"Stop it. Stop it now."

"Go to hell."

You lashed and kicked at him. Trying to get him away. Trying to make him let go. To understand just how much you hated him. How much you wanted him dead. That this wasn't home. That he wasn't what you wanted.

"I said stop it. Listen to me." Chrollo was raising his voice at you. Not yelling, but still enough to try to demand you listen to him. "Listen to me, just listen sweetheart." One hand now held both of your arms as the other made its way to hold your face still. Forcing you to look at him. "I'm trying to help you, my dear. Trying to keep you safe. It’s so dangerous out there. Can’t you see that? Can't you see understand?"

He sounded angry yet, worried. It was a lesson he was trying to push into your mind. Trying to teach you with him was better than elsewhere. Yet, even as his words sounded sincere. You couldn't help, but laugh at him. Laugh at his words. Dangerous? The danger out there? He was fucking deranged. Worse than you thought.

"Whatever is out there, sure as hell can't be worse than being here with you."

Leaning in, close to his face so he could hear your words. Understand what you were saying. Understanding you meant it. That you would rather be out there with whatever he was worried about than with the monster that was pretending to be your saviour.

The look on Chrollo's face had changed. Like he was hurt and angry. Disappointed by your words. You knew that look, you had hurt his little fantasy. Ruined the image of him being your little hero. The look that meant your behaviour needed to be "corrected". That your wit and back talk had crossed the line.

"Seems like you need some reminding why you're here."

"What, another couple of days locked in the closet? I'll take that if it means being away from you." You spat in his face with the last sentence. Showing him you were genuine.

"See, I was thinking something different." Chrollo grabbed your upper arm. Pulling you up and making you follow him. "If you think I'm such a monster, perhaps I should leave you alone with a colleague of mine. Someone who doesn't care about your safety. Someone who doesn't love you like I do. Remember Feitan?"

You had made the worse mistake since he had taken you. Not only had you been resistant to him, but you had made him the enemy. Not just in the scheme of kidnapping, but in the idea of being with him. You told him how you saw him. Now he was going to correct it. Make you see what is worse than him when there is no love to give.

[thebennettdiaries]

Klonnie Weekend 2024: Sweet or Spicy -- PDA

"This is not going to work," Bonnie says, stepping back from him. She is stiff, radiating the tension she is feeling.

Klaus' mouth tightens, clearly unhappy with her latest protest. They have been over this more than once. He takes a deep breath, drawing air through his nostrils and attempting to soothe his temper. Getting angry with her will only push her further way.

And he needs her close as possible.

He is careful, reaching out to trace his fingers along her arm as they move down to tangle with hers. He can feel the way each muscle tenses beneath his touch. A challenge. She is a challenge and one he wants to rise to. If they had more time he would be oh so careful in the way he touches her, the way he moves about her, the words he whispers in her ear. However, time is no luxury for them.

"Bonnie, love, we have discussed this. Appearing united tonight will ensure that no more harm will come to those caught in the crossfire. Together we are strong." He gives her hand a squeeze and feels some comfort in the fact that she squeezes his back. It is a start.

There is a quick retreat to change into a dress that is made for her (and only her --- he knew as soon as he saw it that it would be perfect). His hand hovers over the small of her back as they enter the ballroom. Eyes are on them, clocking the newest alliance between two of the strongest beings in existence.

They are scared. They should be.

He pulls her into his arms for a dance. He can feel the moment that something changes in her. She relaxes, molds her body to his, lets his hands roam over her heated skin. At the end of the night, in plain view of everyone, his mouth finds hers and she doesn't push him away. She falls into it, hands tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck.

Later she will say she did that because it cemented the illusion they were creating for those around them.

He knows she is lying --- but for now, he will allow it.

[ripplestitchskein]

Thinking about this anti idea that the show switched gears on them. I don’t understand it. I’ve never understood it. I’ve already talked about how it’s pretty clear from the writing and show setup in the first few episodes what the focus would be but what baffles me is that it’s also just not true that the character’s issues are purely centered on and only expressed via the romance aspect. They are pretty good at applying the character’s issues to all aspects of their lives and interactions. Especially with Blitz because he is the main character.

Blitz, to put it simply hates himself, plain and simple. We all know this. He creates scenarios to force others to see him as he sees himself. He is a textbook case of someone who self sabotages due to extreme self loathing. He’s not sabotaging his work or his life in general though. We can see Blitz is hardworking, he is ambitious, he has his life together from a material perspective. He had a roof over his head, clothes on his back and food in his fridge. He provides these material things for a whole other person as well.

Where Blitz self sabotages is his relationships. It’s made clear from early on in the show it’s NOT just romantic relationships, it’s ALL of them. Blitz targets what he thinks will drive people away the fastest. I need it to be super clear that he does this to everyone and its ongoing even if sometimes it’s less prevalent. The show is about Blitz and Stolas, whether you like it or not they were the two characters who were focused on in the first few episodes. And the plot is driven by their issues and always has been, what gets disregarded in these arguments that the show is only about Stolitz now is how we see these issues manifest outside of the romance aspect of the show consistently and regularly just maybe not in entire episode long plots, it’s a through line.

With Moxxie Blitz insults him, he makes comments to make him uncomfortable. He targets little insecurities he has with himself. As we’ve gone along and they’ve developed he does this less, he compliments him more, he gives him responsibility. I think we see a good subtle example of Blitz’s influence in Moxxie on Full Moon. The Welcome to Hell, Bitch line was pure Blitz. His comfort with saying “So fuck him good sir”. These are the kinds of little things that slowly and carefully drive the changes in their relationship.

For Moxxie and Millie as a couple he inserts themselves into their relationship. He makes sexual jokes about them both. He mentions having a threesome with them. He follows and stalks them. It’s an odd and imo off putting behavior, one I think we’ve theorized about a lot and that’s lead to some interesting takes on his character and his view of monogamy in general. I don’t agree or disagree on the reasonings, I don’t have any info to make an informed decision on it but after Apology Tour it was kind of cemented for me that this behavior was also a pretty effective way to test them and drive them away. They are a very loving and committed couple, if I were a serial self sabotager faced with pushing away a couple to prevent them from getting too close, what is the best way to drive them away for good? Obviously, be the toxic third, have them join the Blitz Exes. He’s not going to admit that’s what he’s doing of course, so he approaches it in earnest like he does most things he is deluding himself about. Go all in on denial.

Blitz only ever tests the fence about them though, he never makes any serious moves on it, and he has largely stopped doing it at all after Chaz and Ozzie’s. I think that episode, how he felt after sleeping with Chaz, was the turning point for him when it came to them. It remains to be seen though.

I think GhostFuckers will be the place to explore it if there is anything left to explore about that. We seem to be getting a Millie based flashback and that might shed some additional light.

What also saves Moxxie and Millie from the full force of his self sabotaging behavior is that there is a built in buffer by them being his employees. He always has a way to keep them at arm’s length if there is a power dynamic he can fall back on.

With Loona she is a very closed off, anti-affection person. With her, the tact Blitzø takes is give her too much attention and show too much love. Smother her in affection no matter how many boundaries she sets and how much she protests about it. In Queen Bee he’s too in his head over Stolas to bother with that, and it’s sadly probably the most in sync they’ve ever been until the end. I pointed it out before but in Full Moon Blitz treats Loona very differently. He imitates her and actually snaps back at her when she says Stolas is dropping him, it was a very different interaction than earlier episodes and I think another subtle sign that how he feels right now is changing him and he’s making efforts. He hasn’t simpered at her for awhile. And he obviously is giving her a more active role in the day to day.

These are ongoing threads and they are all part of of the larger picture of Blitz’s growth and change. Just because a romantic relationship is helping drive that change doesn’t meant other things aren’t, or that the only changes or growth we see are only about the romance.

The fact that that there are two episodes focused entirely on Fizz speaks for itself.

[megalony]

Medic Mode

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it. I tried to make it as fluffy as I could. Any feedback is always lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While Eddie is at work, (Y/n) has a small cooking accident. And when he finds out, he looks after her and patches her up.

Enjoy.

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

"Chris, I need to head off now. You be good for me and I'll be back tomorrow night, okay?" Eddie strapped his watch around his wrist before he crouched down beside the sofa where Chris was laid out. He was curled up in his pyjamas and dressing gown with a blanket around his legs. It was almost time for bed.

Eddie was doing a double shift, working twenty four hours straight from tonight until tomorrow night. It was going to be a killer, but it meant he would have the next few days off after this.

"Okay, love you."

"I love you too." With his hand pressed against the back of Chris's head, Eddie kissed his temple and leaned over to hug him before he got to his feet.

He had tried to take a nap this afternoon before Chris got home from school so he would be prepared to go all night and all through tomorrow. Eddie didn't sleep at the station unless he was doing a long run of shifts all meshed together. He couldn't very well turn up for a night shift and try to catch a few hours of sleep not long after he arrived, and he wanted to be rearing and ready to go when he got there.

He pulled back from the sofa with a lasting smile on his face for Chris before he moved towards the hall.

"Okay mi amor, I gotta go." His eyes focused on the hem of his shirt which he tucked into his trousers but when Eddie lifted his head, all the blood drained down to his feet. His lips suddenly went very dry and his jaw hung open but he couldn't find anything else to say.

Oh, that wasn't fair.

How was Eddie supposed to leave for a double shift when (Y/n) looked like that? She was burning her image into his eyes and leaving it cemented into his brain. How could he go out on a call and try to focus when his wife was at home looking that good? How was he supposed to head to work and not stay here when she looked that appealing to him?

The sight of her stood there like that was enough to make Eddie growl and rethink going into work tonight.

It was clear that (Y/n) had just gotten out the shower. She was wearing one of Eddie's plain cotton shirts and a pair of his boxers that were glued rather shapely around her bum. And his shirt hung off her left shoulder as if giving him a sneak preview of what he was missing out on but it was the way his shirt was bunched up over her hip and partly tucked into the boxers that made it hard to stay in control. He wanted to go over there and rip it over her head and drag the boxers down to her ankles.

He swallowed harshly as he watched (Y/n) pad barefoot down the hall, one hand tangled in her hair, brushing it back across her shoulder.

"Really?" His voice came out a lot deeper than he intended and he saw the confusion pool in (Y/n)'s eyes as she approached him.

"What?"

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when his arms coiled around her waist and he dragged her closer until her chest bumped into his. His chin brushed against her shoulder and his lips attached to her neck as he absentmindedly leaned up and lifted her high enough that she had to push up on her tiptoes to balance against him.

The feeling of him breathing harshly and sucking at her neck had her knees going weak but when she looked at the watch strapped on his wrist, she knew he was going to be late if he stayed. And Christopher was still awake, they couldn't exactly do anything without him hearing or noticing. He was an observant kid.

"Baby you'll be late," She turned her head to look at him but he caught her lips in a kiss instead and she could feel his hands slip beneath her shirt. His palms pressed flat against the dip in her lower back before she felt his fingertips trace lower and dip past the waistband of his boxers she was wearing.

His shift was going to feel like a week instead of a day with (Y/n)'s image burned into his mind like this.

"Then you shouldn't entice me to stay." He growled and he felt (Y/n) suck in a deep breath when he took her bottom lip between his teeth. He was all prepared to leave until she walked out looking like this.

"Sorry baby," Sincerity flooded her voice while she cupped Eddie's face in her hands and pecked his lips again before she tried to wriggle out of his arms.

It didn't work. His hands slipped lower into the boxers until both hands had a grip on her bum and he stepped closer, pressing every ridge of his body against hers. When he dug his fingers into her flesh, (Y/n) rolled her lips together and pressed her nose against his cheek.

Maybe she should walk him to the door to make sure he actually left. It wouldn't do him any favours to be late to work when he had a clean track record so far.

She gave him a gentle nudge until he was walking backwards, his arms tightening around her waist with his elbows digging into her hips. Her hands reached up to rub across his chest and she continued to nudge him backwards while he stole kiss after kiss from her lips like it was the last time he was going to see her and he was getting his money's worth.

"Don't wanna go when you look like that. It's teasing."

He had to get his head in gear and rush into uncertain situations with this image of (Y/n) at the forefront of his mind. He had to save people and clean the trucks and tend to wounds and injuries and run into burning buildings, all while (Y/n) danced across his mind, looking like this.

"I wasn't trying to tease you baby… you're back tomorrow night, I'll be all your tomorrow."

"Hm, but I want you now."

A gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when one of Eddie's hands suddenly unhooked from her behind and reached up for the collar of her shirt that was halfway down her shoulder. With it being Eddie's shirt and two sizes too big for her, the collar was looser and easier to move. It let Eddie hook a finger into the collar and drag it further down her arm, exposing her chest to his prying eyes.

(Y/n) tilted her upper half back just as Eddie's lips attached to her chest. Both hands moved to his shoulders and she gave him a strong push until he had to reel back up and disconnect from her chest. She dragged the shirt back up her shoulder, hiding the view he had given himself which made him groan.

"Go to work, Edmundo."

Eddie moved one arm behind him to unlock the door and grab his keys from the lock. When the door opened, he begrudgingly let (Y/n) push him back until he was over the threshold like a lovesick puppy waiting outside for her. But the moment she was out of his arms, Eddie planted one hand on the doorframe and the other on the door. Preventing her from closing the door on him.

He waited until (Y/n) cupped his face in her hands and tugged him down to press a feverish kiss to his lips. She let him swipe his tongue across her lower lip, begging for entrance before she pulled back, mumbling a quiet 'I love you' and 'goodbye' against his lips before giving him a final nudge out the door.

One whole day.

How was he going to survive with that image burned into his mind and the desire bubbling away inside of him?

***

"Next one," Chris murmured and swiped his hand across (Y/n)'s phone until the next song started to play. He wanted the upbeat songs to play so he could dance and stim while they made dinner.

"Here you go baby."

(Y/n) set down the jar of mayonaise in front of Chris who was stood with the salad bowl in front of him. They had made their own coleslaw tonight, something Chris was starting to master. They hadn't quite mastered making their own mayonaise yet but that was next on their list.

"Save some for your dad," She reminded as he tipped half the jar into the bowl before he began to mix it in.

She always plated Eddie a meal up because she knew what it was like down at the station. He didn't always get a chance to eat with how hectic their days could be. Most of the time the team managed to eat lunch but not tea and Eddie would be hungry when he came home.

(Y/n) began nodding her head along to the music while she found a knife and began cutting up the chicken.

Her lips curved into a smile when Chris let go of the spoon and started to wave his hand at his side, curling two of his fingers into his palm as he began to stim. Chris didn't always enjoy cooking but sometimes, when he was in the mood, he loved being in the kitchen. Baking was something he preferred rather than cooking dinner and he loved making pancakes for breakfast.

"Dad home tonight?"

"Yep, he'll be back just before you go to bed."

She started humming the tune while Chris finished up mixing the coleslaw and began rocking back and forth as he sang the song.

"I think your dad-" (Y/n)'s words mashed into a scream when the knife slipped along the side of the chicken and pierced into the side of her hand.

Her body stiffened, her elbows pinned against her waist and her eyes snapped closed when a blinding pain scoured through the base of her left palm. Pain was all (Y/n) could feel, shooting through to her fingertips and down her wrist towards her elbow in electrifying bolts.

Fuck!

Her right hand began to shake when she dared to open her eyes that were already watering on impact. She blinked away the tears and tried to stare down at her hands but the sight made her gulp.

The knife had pierced into the edge of her hand just below her little finger and made a slice up towards her middle finger, right through her palm. The tip of the knife was still imbedded in her hand just below her finger and (Y/n) didn't feel anything when she slid the knife out and dropped it onto the counter.

She took three stumbling steps away from the counter so she didn't get blood all over the chicken. The last thing she wanted was to ruin dinner and have to make something else and take twice as long.

Blood poured through the grooves of her fingers. It trickled steadily down her wrist towards her forearm and splatters dropped down onto the floor at her feet.

"Mum, you hurt?" Chris stepped back and started to wave his arms at his sides and flap them like he was trying to take flight.

"No… no I'm okay baby… w-why don't you play a video game, while I clean up? Please?"

The moment Chris hurried out the kitchen, (Y/n) let her jaw slack and a small cry froffed past her lips. Her fingers curled tightly around her left wrist and she tried to hold her arm up in the air to stop the blood flowing down to her hand. Everything started to shake as the pain just kept flooding down with each thud of her heartbeat.

God, why did she have to go and hurt herself tonight? Why did she have to have an accident right when they were about to have dinner and when Eddie wasn't home?

He was a medic, he was like (Y/n)'s personal doctor. Whenever she bumped into something or had a fall or had any aches and pains, Eddie took care of her. He would go into medic mode and assess her and patch her back up. But he wasn't home right now. (Y/n) would have to deal with this herself and look after herself and Chris.

Her fingers curled around her left wrist in a death grip, digging her nails in until she was splitting the skin. She trudged across to the sink and turned on the cold tap.

Tears flooded her face along with a quiet sob when the freezing cold water trickled over her hand and made her arm pulse with each heartbeat.

The water didn't seem to help.

A river of burnt orange and strawberry red mingled in the bottom of the sink and splattered around the silver edges. The water allowed (Y/n) to have a clear view of her hand. The cut didn't look deep enough to reach any muscle or bone, but it was enough to cause blistering pain and when it healed, (Y/n) knew she would have a large scar through her palm.

She didn't want to go to the hospital. (Y/n) couldn't deal with an evening trip to the emergency room. It would be packed if she went now and she would have to take Chris along with her. That wouldn't be fair to him and she couldn't be bothered with the stress of waiting around for someone to patch her up.

If she could sort it herself, she would.

Scanning her eyes around the kitchen, (Y/n) kept her shaking, bloody hand beneath the water and scrunched her right hand around the kitchen roll in front of the kitchen window.

"One… two… three."

She counted herself down and pulled her hand from the water and held her arm high up in the air. Three sheets of soaked kitchen roll packed against her hand before she wrapped a further six or seven dry sheets of kitchen roll around her hand as tightly as she could to pack the wound together.

When she tried to grab the first aid kit from the top cupboard, it clattered onto the counter and split open.

(Y/n) grabbed a roll of bandage and tore it open with her teeth before she wrapped it around her hand from the base of her fingers, down to her wrist. Keeping the kitchen roll tightly packed behind the bandage to apply more pressure and be safe in case it kept bleeding.

When the bandage was wrapped, (Y/n) wound a tight lot of medical tape around it before keeping a teatowel tightly clenched around her hand. That would do for now.

It felt like her arm had been disconnected from the rest of her body. From her shoulder right down to her fingertips, her arm was thudding and pulsing and aching.

Tears streamed freely down (Y/n)'s face but she tried to wipe them away and take a few deep, calming breaths.

She tossed the bloodied knife into the sink and turned towards the chicken that she now despised. It was cooked well enough that she could shred it with a fork instead of cutting it with another knife.

She would tidy the kitchen after dinner.

***

Adrenaline sparked up in (Y/n)'s stomach when she heard the front door open and close with a bang. Eddie was home.

Her eyes immediately darted down to her left hand and she could feel herself shaking when she noticed spots of blood beginning to soak through the bandage. It was bleeding again. She wasn't sure if her hand had even stopped bleeding since she'd cut it, or if she had just packed it well enough to stop it from bleeding as fast.

Reaching out, she grabbed the teatowel and rolled it around her left hand to cover the bandage before she picked up one of the plates and started to dry it. She would sort her hand out soon. She wasn't going to worry Eddie the moment he walked through the door. He had been on a double shift, he needed to come home and sit down and have something to eat, not come home and feel like he was right back at work again.

"There you are."

Her lips curved into a soft smile when a pair of tense arms looped around her waist and she felt Eddie's lips smother the side of her neck.

Turning her head to the left, (Y/n) kissed his temple and brushed her nose against his damp hair. Her breathing hitched and her lips stretched into a wider grin when Eddie straightened up and almost pulled her off her feet when he dragged her back up against his chest.

"Missed you," He muttered lowly into her neck before he sank his teeth down between her neck and shoulder making (Y/n) swallow down a groan.

Eddie reached his hand up and hooked a finger beneath (Y/n)'s chin, tilting her head up so he could steal a kiss. Then another. Then another.

"Dad! Dad!"

He grumbled something against her lips but (Y/n) couldn't make out what he was trying to say. She kissed the corner of his mouth before she pulled back enough to look up at him with a tender smile.

"He's waited up for you." It had been hard to keep her hand away from Chris's perceptive gaze and try to tell him she had just scratched it and was covering it up so it wouldn't get wet.

But she had managed to get through Chris's evening routine without bursting into tears, no matter how badly her hand hurt or how much ir throbbed or felt like it was going to fall off. Chris had been settled in bed for the last half an hour with the tv on. He was waiting up for Eddie to settle him to bed and as always, Chris had managed to hear the door and knew the moment his dad had come home.

"Here," She kept the teatowel hooked around her left hand while she reached across the counter, as much as she could with Eddie's arms still bound around her middle and his chest against her back. She arched her bum out against him so she could grab the plate from the side and turned to hold it out to him.

He could let Chris have another five minutes watching tv so he could eat his dinner. It wouldn't do Eddie any good going much longer without something to eat. (Y/n) knew he wouldn't have had dinner at the station.

"Thank you." He caught her lips in another kiss before he slowly unravelled from around her and took the plate with a grateful smile.

"Dad!"

"Alright, alright I'm coming." His lips attached to (Y/n)'s cheek before he leaned round to hover over her ear. And (Y/n) could feel the way he grinned into her skin when his voice sent her knees quaking. "I'll be back for you later."

As soon as Eddie was out of the kitchen, (Y/n) moved to the cupboard and grabbed the first aid box again.

Her hands began to tremble when she carefully peeled away the tape and unravelled the bloodied bandage from her hand. Her skin was discoloured and felt like squishy jelly when she prodded at the skin. She had definitely cut the blood supply off for a while with how numb her hand felt.

Flakes of dried blood smeared into the grooves of her palm but fresh blood started to trickle down her hand and made her grimace.

(Y/n) didn't bother running her hand under the cold tap again. She found a fresh bandage and rolled it around her hand as tightly as she could manage and threw the old bandage and wads of kitchen roll in the bin.

Painkillers had taken the edge off earlier, but (Y/n) could still feel the throbbing, splintering pain shooting through her hand every now and then. And her fingers were constantly cramping and splitting from the numbess coursing down her hand.

She left the kitchen to make her way down the hall just as she heard Eddie saying goodnight to Chris. She passed Chris's room and headed into her and Eddie's room and turned the tv on low.

Her lips pressed into a thin line and scrunched up to one side in a grimace when she tried to pull her hair into a ponytail. She could barely get her left hand to move, let alone curl her fingers and wind a bobble between her fingers to go around her hair. A sigh passed her lips and she wrenched the bobble free and let her hair fan down across her shoulders. Her hair would have to stay down tonight.

She barely moved the covers to sit down in bed before she heard Chris's bedroom door shut and the sound of approaching footsteps.

Her eyes followed his movements as he stripped off his button up shirt and approached the end of the bed rather slowly. He crawled along the end of the bed and slowly caged her beneath him with his knees pressing into her legs and up her thighs. Until he was close enough to sink back on his heels with his knees digging comfortably into (Y/n)'s hips so he was sat on her thighs.

(Y/n) stayed silent and held her breath when Eddie raked his eyes up and down her frame and she bit her lip when she watched his tongue dart out across his lower lip. Her heart thudded in her chest as his hands moved to cup the sides of her jaw and she could feel his fingertips tracing along the top of her neck like he was drawing patterns into her skin.

He tilted her head back until she was looking up at him and his lips quirked up into a grin before he swooped down and captured her lips with his.

Her eyes fell closed and her arms weaved beneath his so she could loop them around the back of his neck and pull him closer. She could tell she almost pulled him off balance as his weight shifted to his knees that dug down into the mattress to steady himself. And his chest pressed down into hers, pushing (Y/n) back until she was slanted at an angle against the pillows.

Eddie seemed to steal each breath she tried to take until she had to knot her fingers into his hair at the back of his head and give a sharp tug. Earning a groan that allowed (Y/n) to take back a breath for herself, her lips barely touching his that panted against hers.

"You really missed me, hm?" (Y/n) panted against his lips and pulled his lower lip between hers just to see the way his pupils would expand and darken like swirling orbs in front of her.

"Been thinking 'bout you all day." Eddie's lips curved into a dark grin and he leaned down to kiss her shoulder as his hands worked their way down her sides. Grinning into her skin when he felt her squirm beneath him as he found her ticklish spot.

One hand curled around her hip as if to make sure she stayed put and didn't dare think about moving and his other hand scrunched up the bottom of her shirt, ready to rip it over her head.

But just as Eddie pulled his lips away from her skin, something caught the corner of his eye. He tilted his head down to the right and the smile started to fade from his lips that parted so he could pant and catch his breath back. He smoothed his thumb across her hip and leaned to kiss her shoulder before he moved to look down at the bed sheet.

There was blood on it.

"Why'd you stop?" (Y/n)'s voice stayed quiet, as if speaking any louder would break the atmosphere around them. She let her hands slide down to cup Eddie's neck and tilt his head back up so they were level again.

Reaching up behind him, Eddie let his hands curve around (Y/n)'s wrists but his smile morphed more into a frown when he felt something on (Y/n)'s wrist. He pulled her hands down from his neck and leaned to sit back on her thighs so he could hold her hands in front of him.

Why did she have a bandage on? What had she done? Eddie knew she hadn't been wearing that yesterday before he went to work.

"Baby, you okay? Did you have an accident or something?"

Eddie's fingers stayed curled softly around (Y/n)'s wrist and it was almost comforting to feel his thumb smoothing up and down the back of her hand. But when her hand still felt numb and touching it made the wound start to throb, she wanted to wince.

She had been hoping he wouldn't notice, at least not for a little while. And she thought it had stopped bleeding by now. (Y/n) could see the confusion pooling on Eddie's face as he brought her hand closer to his face so he could inspect the bandage that had been hastily wrapped tight around her palm. Blood was starting to pool like splattered paint in the middle of the bandage and it had soaked through into the bed when she had her hands planted down on the mattress a few minutes ago.

"Um, just a small incident- ow!" Her eyes snapped closed and she couldn't help the way she winced when Eddie tried to drag his fingertips across her palm. It still hurt.

"Oh, baby it's bleeding quite a lot. I'm gonna have to take a look at it." His features pulled into a grimace with his lips pressed together and his brows furrowed down in concentration.

(Y/n) kept her eyes focused on Eddie's bare chest while he turned her hand over so her palm was held between them instead of pulled up towards his face. Both his hands moved so one was gently cupping her wrist, keeping her hand steady, and his other hand started to unravel the bandage as slowly as he could so he didn't hurt her.

Reaching out, (Y/n) dragged her right hand up and down Eddie's thigh, raking her nails along his trousers until his leg twitched beneath her touch and his eyes darted to glance up at her and see what she was doing.

He let the bandage unravel and drop down onto his thigh and slide onto the bed but Eddie's upper lip curled in distaste and a deep growl vibrated through his chest when he looked at the problem. There was a large, gaping wound in the middle of her palm. The skin was discoloured and shrivelled up where it had been cut and it let Eddie see how deep it was. He couldn't see any muscle or bone, thankfully, but it was still deeper than he'd of liked.

"Fuck! Mi amor what did you do? Why didn't you say something when I came in?" There was dried blood caked all around her palm and in the grooves of her fingers but he was glad to see it wasn't bleeding steadily. She just have applied a bit of pressure and caused it to bleed slowly again.

"The knife slipped when I was making dinner. I… I tried to wrap it tight to make it stop."

Panic bubbled up in (Y/n)'s chest when Eddie let go of her wrist and moved to climb over her and get off the bed. She watched him stand beside the bed, but a gasp tumbled past her lips when he reached out and curled his hands beneath her thighs. He gave a sharp tug and dragged her to the edge of the bed and leaned forward so he could hook her legs around his hips.

He murmured a quiet but stern 'up' with one hand on her bum and the other on her lower back and he lifted her and sat her on his hips.

(Y/n) curved her arms loosely around his shoulders and pressed her face into the crook of his neck as her heels crossed behind his back. She closed her eyes and kept her face buried into his neck but her lips curved into a soft grin when she felt Eddie's hand move from her back to swat down on her bum.

"You should have told me," He mumbled quietly into her hair as he walked down the hall and turned into the kitchen.

"Didn't wanna worry you."

"Well I'm worried now."

He heard a small 'sorry' vibrate through his neck and it made him purse his lips and back down. He wasn't trying to have a go at her or be rude, but if she was hurt, Eddie wanted to know as soon as possible rather than wait and find out by accident.

When they reached the kitchen, Eddie moved over to the counter near the sink and carefully eased (Y/n) down so she was sat on the countertop. His hands gave her thighs a tight squeeze before he broke free from her legs and rummaged in the medicine cupboard.

He found the first aid kit and the dark green tupperware box where he stashed the extra medical supplies and some spare bits and pieces he usually brought home from work.

"Alright mi amor, let's sort you out." Eddie moved back between (Y/n)'s thighs and he felt her heels rest comfortably against his lower back between his hips.

He opened the two boxes on the counter and rummaged through to find what he needed before he grabbed a cloth from the side drawer and ran it under the cold water.

(Y/n) bit down on her lower lip and tightened her thighs into Eddie's hips when he started to dab the cold cloth against her hand to clean away the dried and freshly forming blood. Her free hand moved to cradle the side of his neck and she swiped her thumb up and down his jaw that was locked tight in concentration. She tried to study his features instead to take her mind off what he was doing to her hand.

Her hand moved to his shoulder and she groaned, jumping back on the counter when he dabbed an antiseptic wipe across the cut. It felt like he had just poured a bottle of salt onto her hand with the way it bit and stung at her cut. The feeling of Eddie's lips on her cheek soothed one of the many nerves going haywire in her stomach and she tried to focus on his thumb that started caressing up and down her wrist.

"Hand down on here, try and hold steady so I can put the suture strips on."

She did as requested and placed her hand down on the side of the sink and tried to keep her fingers stretched out straight and steady her arm. The last thing Eddie needed was to hold her arm down if she began trembling or pulling away when he tried to help her.

"Okay, here we go." His voice was soothing and rugged but when he pinched her split skin together, (Y/n) couldn't help the broken cry that spit past her lips.

When Eddie taped the first plastic stitch over the wound to hold the skin together, (Y/n) leaned forward. She hooked her free arm around the back of his shoulders and pressed her face down into the junction between his neck and shoulder. Her lips smothered his skin and panted into his neck while her eyes closed tightly so she could try and focus on the feeling of Eddie's soft, laboured breaths.

Eddie continued to work his way along the cut, pinching the skin and sticking the home remedy stitches along to take the wound together so the skin could heal and patch back up.

He could feel the way (Y/n)'s arm was trembling despite how well she managed to hold herself still and not pull away from the pain it caused.

Once it was done, Eddie grabbed a fresh bandage roll and started to wind it around the base of (Y/n)'s fingers, between the groove of her finger and thumb and down to her wrist. He wanted the wound packed and covered so it wouldn't get infected or split open again. He taped the bandage in place before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist.

"All done baby."

"Thank you," (Y/n) murmured softly against his lips when he leaned forward to capture her with a kiss.

Her arms looped around the back of his neck and she used her legs as leverage to tug him closer until his knees bashed into the cupboard and his hips melted into her thighs.

"Now, where were we?"

[whorekneeonmain]

TW: Mean!Leon tries to murk you, yandere themes, def kidnapped. Self indulgence. Is for me.

With a surprise kick to his body, Leon hunched over grabbing at his side

"Think about what you're doing, Sweetheart" You could practically hear the venom dropping from his voice.

You quickly scrambled from your place on the bed, feet tangling in the sheets causing you to stumble but quickly recovered and sprinted towards the open door, you grabbed the frame trying to propel yourself forward when Leon grabbed your ankle giving it a sharp tug making you fall, you didn't even hear him get back up, your knees hit the cement first causing searing pain in you knee caps, palms skidding a little when you tried to brace yourself so you didn't bash your face.

Leon flipped you over roughly and straddled your hips pinning you down. He just loved looking down on you, he loved that you fought for you, even though it won't matter in the end, he'll always be bigger and stronger. He loved the chase the most

You thrashed your fists in front of you hoping it would connect with some part of him, 

"Let me go! What the fuck is wrong with you" 

You tried bucking your hips hoping to knock him off balance

"No no baby, this won't do at all" 

Leon grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them above your head, making sure to push his palm down and grind them into the cement. Letting out a muffled cry at the pain before he grabbed your jaw with his fingers digging into the joints hard enough that your eyes started to tear up and make you whimper, you tried to turn your head to the side to look away but he just yanked you back hard so you face him again. showing you just how much power he has over you.

Leaning down close enough that all you could smell was the mint on his breath and the heat across your face. Your jaw aching. 

You had no choice but to stare into his blue eyes, they were beautiful and you might've gotten lost in them in any other circumstances.

"Are you done fighting? You're dirty and you stink, it's time for a bath" 

You did your best to nod your head. Knowing there was nothing more you could do right now

Letting go of your wrists, he waited a few seconds for the swinging that never came, he got up and dragged you up with him, throwing your body over his shoulder like you weighed nothing.

He turned and walked the distance you made and dropped you on the bed that was pushed against the center of the far wall.

Sitting up and staring as Leon walked towards the only exit to lock it to make sure I don't go anywhere.

finally able to take in your surroundings.

It was a small room, the walls were pretty much plain, and the only thing in it was the bed you were sitting on and a doorway with a lack of door leading into what you assumed was the bathroom.

Splaying yourself out on the bed and staring at the ceiling you could hear water start to run. Closing your eyes just to let your mind wander

Maybe I could drown him in the tub or shove soap in his eyes

You don't think more than 10 minutes had passed before Leon was lightly shaking you awake

"Sweetheart, your bath is ready. Now strip" his voice was sweet yet demanding

Letting out a groan while standing up, you slowly reached for the bottom of your dress

"You're being too slow" he grabbed the hem of your dress

"raise your arms"

raising your arms he wasted no time in pulling it off of your body, his fingers trailing down the newly exposed skin, over your chest, fingernails raking across your stomach until he reached your hips hooking his fingers into the waistband

"Don't do anything stupid"

Like I have a choice

He kneeled, dragging your panties down your legs

"Step up" 

Lifting your right foot first and then your left, stepping out of the last piece of clothing.

Raising to his feet and lifting you he carried you to the tub, gently lowering you into the lukewarm water, flinching a little as the water made your cuts and scrapes sting

Couldn't even give me a hot bath. Cheap.

"There we go, there's a good girl"

He placed a kiss on the crown of your head

"Here" 

dunking the cloth into the water he grabbed the bottle of body wash and poured some on the cloth 

"wash your body, I'll do the rest"

Taking the soaped-up cloth from his hands, you started to wash the dried blood and dirt from your legs, before moving on to the rest of your body.

Leon reached for the empty cup, dipping it into the water before pouring it on your head, soaking your hair before reaching for the shampoo and lathering it, and massaging your scalp before rinsing the suds out

"See, this isn't so bad." 

Oh, it's about to be. Hopefully for you more than me

Slowly grabbing his right hand that was in front of you, bringing it to your face, and nuzzling your face into his palm while his thumb lightly brushed your cheek

Turning your head you opened your mouth quickly and bit down as hard as you could into the meaty part of his hand, hearing your canines hit the bone in his thumb and the breaking of his skin the coppery taste of blood flooded your mouth

"You stupid bitch!" 

You could feel the tug of his hand as he tried to pull his hand away, it didn't work.

Using his trapped hand he gripped the bottom half of your face, with a quick push he bashed your head against the back of the tub. there was an audible crack, you weren't sure if it was your skull or the tub probably both. The pain was immediate and spread through your entire head. Letting go of his head you let out a scream, you felt his hand on top of your head and he pushed you underwater, your eyes burning from the soaps in the water.

 burning as it entered your nose and went down your throat you felt the painful tug on your head, being pulled out of the water you coughed and gasped for any air

"Is this what you wanted?" He seethed, eyebrows furrowed and eyes dark, before pushing your head back under the water, legs kicking out and splashing water everywhere arms trying to grab onto his arms leaving deep scratches from your nails, screwing your shut waiting to be pulled out again 

"Do you want to die?" 

Gasping for air to fill your lungs

"N-n-no" you tried to get out before being pushed back under for a third time inhaling my water this time being held under until you almost went limp the grip on your hair tightened painfully.

"APOLOGIZE!" The rage was clear in his voice

"I-I-I'm sorry, sososo sorry" you were a stuttering crying mess, with each breath taken feeling like your lungs were on fire, tears streaming down your face, taking short and frequent breaths in your panic

Letting go of your hair and pulling you into his chest, you could feel his heat hammering in his chest and taking rapid deep breaths through his nose

"Shhhshh, it's ok Baby, it's over" 

he was soothing you, rubbing your back and whispering apologies into your hair

"Oh sweetheart I'm so sorry, didn't mean to hurt you this bad, jus' wanna scare you to teach you a lesson" 

Sobbing into his chest for what felt like hours thanks to the splitting headache and very likely concussion hurt your pride more than any physical pain he could have inflicted.

[plutoswritingplanet]

Ring Of Fire (Lucifer x Female!Reader) pt.2

a/n: we're taking a turn for the weirder, next chapter will be slightly more comfort than hurt (you know, as much as i know how to write comfort). for now, all we have is darkness and edginess. Cross-Posted on AO3

Warnings: Dub-Con (wow that never fking happens on this blog), Soulmates, Emotional Torture, Biting (not the sexy kind), like...a teeny tiny smidge of cannibalism.

Summary: The psychological torment of being chosen for the Devil tips over as he visits you in your sleep.

PT.1

At first, you're not aware that you're dreaming. A strange haze falls over your vision, as if you've just woken up from a devastating fever. Your limbs sway slowly, like you're treading through honey. It fascinates you, the way the light of a streetlamp flickers over your fingers, as you raise your hand. Bare feet on the concrete, your toes contract, pebbles stuck to the skin. The air feels weird on your skin, like liquid pouring over your form in an invisible cascade. It feels real enough, yet so far away. 

You remember falling asleep on Bobby's guest bed, brought down by the events of the night. What were those events, you couldn't remember, but you can smell smoke swirling in your nose and your eyes are puffy with tears. You sniffle, swipe your hand across your face and feel as if by this simple gesture, your skin has been pulled like fresh taffy. Perhaps you have died in your sleep. The thought is, for some reason, incredibly funny to you, and from somewhere far away you can hear a voice, strangely similar to yours, giggle. It echoes through your skull like a church bell, and you groan at the reverberating sound. 

- Crossroads? Really? - you turn around without any grace in your movement, as another voice rings out right next to you.

Your breath catches in your throat and you can feel all the muscles in your body constric, then relax forcefully, as if some invisible strength was trying to keep you docile. 

There he stands. So human, so plain, it tugs on your heart in a way you were not expecting. Lucifer. His hands clasped in front of him, red spots and abrasions decorating his skin in a grotesque display. Sick, your brain supplies, he looks sick, as if he's starting to rot where he stands, and suddenly, in this strange dream the worst possible feeling comes to surface. You pity him, truly and deeply. Normally you'd jot it down to caring for the poor man he has chosen for his temporary vessel, but here, where reality doesn't exist, you can't force yourself to entertain this lie. Your fingers flex at your sides, a need to heal, to help, pushing at them to come forward, to cradle his face like he did to yours.

God help you, you wanted to help this monster.

Then, his words register in your brain, and you finally look around.

You're in the middle of a cement road, somewhere you don't recognize, and sure enough, there is a crossroad. You haven't been to one in such a long time. Not since Dean got dragged to hell and pushed by grief, you were about to do something unbelievably stupid. You remember begging. Actually begging a demon to take your soul, to save your friend, only to be met with a cruel laughter and emptiness so profound, it nearly broke you. Shame washes through you like a sudden wave, and you try to keep some integrity by encircling your chest with your arms. It does you little to no comfort, and Lucifer cocks his head to the side, as if he's in tune with your emotions. 

- Do you dream of this place often? - Lucifer asks, walking around you at a slow pace.

You don't know how to respond. Do you? Perhaps that is the case, perhaps somehow you've always had some sort of connection to the crossroads, where the most wicked of deals were made. Perhaps it was all his fault, from the very beginning. You nod, once, not trusting your own voice, and the Devil flashes you a quick smile, before his expression darkens, as if he's deeply in thought. There are prominent shadows falling over his face, his eyes sunken even more than you remember. 

- I can't find you - he finally looks up at you, and your heart stops just for a second - You're invisible to me, I wonder, why is that?

Castiel, you immediately think, and you have to look away from him at the memory of your friendly neighborhood Angel carving Enochian symbols into your bones. It's almost like you can feel them, beneath your skin, beneath the muscle and the guts. Not hurting, not really. Just, there. A constant reminder, that you're hunted by a being that feels entitled to your very existence. Being, which is currently taking small steps towards you, looking over your body as if you were a piece of prime meat in a display case at a grocery store.

- You're hiding from something you cannot stop - he says, and you feel the coldness of his breath on your collarbones - It's Dad's will after all. 

That, for some reason, wakes you up from your previous stupor. Shaking your head, you try to take a step back, a litany of "no's" spilling from your lips. To that, he frowns, grabs at your shoulders to keep you in place, and with a sudden wave of horror you realize, you can't move. And you want to move so badly, your body feels as if it's tearing itself in half. White fire, cold burning floods you, when his hands make contact with your skin, fingers skimming over the flesh of your arms, dragging down and down, until they grab at your wrists. 

- I don't want this - there's conviction in your voice you were not expecting, because truly and deeply, you fucking hate this situation, this responsibility which has been placed upon you without your knowledge or consent.

Lucifer laughs an airy laugh.

Gently, as if you're a porcelain doll, he brings your hands closer to his face. He maneuvers your fingers, eyes watching with fascination at the way your knuckles move under your skin. The tendons, the veins, he swallows it all with a greedy gaze, and the coldness of his breath makes hairs stand at the back of your neck. 

- I'm not particularly thrilled by this revelation myself - he whispers to your fingertips - I mean, isn't this insulting? To force me to care for a thing I swore to hate.

You shudder at the sudden harshness in his voice, and his hands dig further into the meat of your wrist. Reminding yourself that this is just a dream, you try to steel your nerves, focus on leveling your breathing, on freeing yourself from his grasp. It's harder than you anticipate, trying to collect any sort of self-preservation, while your mind is cradled by the smothering blanket of whatever dream-magic has been placed on you. 

- But then again, I am a child of an absent father - something akin to mirth flashes through his face, and as he looks up at you, eyes gleaming with something you're too scared to decipher, you're convinced you'll never truly escape him - And such a gift... - he sighs deeply within his chest, pressing the scarred surface of his cheek to your palm - Well, who am I to deny it?

Your face twists into an expression of disgust, and with a whine, you tear yourself away, craning your body as far from him as it is willing to go. Which arguably isn't much. His grip on your body tightens, arms digging into you, as he forces a perversion of a hug onto your unwilling frame.

- I've killed for less - he whispers into your ear, and revels in the way your entire body shivers - You're really lucky, and I don't think you quite realize how much. 

- I don't want to be lucky - painted nails dig into the cotton of his shirt, as you try your hardest to hurt him, force him to back up, or just react to your defiance in any other way than patronizing indifference. - I want nothing to do with you, I don't want you.

To that, he humms low in his throat, and you whimper, as cold lips descent upon the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. You can't truly describe the kind of fear he brings upon you, but your entire body seems to surrender despite your best efforts at doing otherwise. Must be magic, you reason. He must've placed you under some kind of a spell, there is no other explanation.

- Don't you think you're being just a tad ungrateful? - he asks, nose dragging along your artery - I mean, here I am, ready to love you, to care for you, to accept you as the gift that you are... - he takes a long drag of your hair, savoring the scent as your knees start to buckle - And you're ready to throw it all away because, what exactly? Because I'm what my Father has made me?

- Because you're a monster, only capable of hurting others - you seethe through your teeth, and immediately get cut off, when presses your bodies tighter together, something worryingly similar to a growl resounding deep within his chest. 

- Is that what you think?

You've made a mistake, immediately you can recognize that. Playing the tough guy in front of the literal Devil, while having no real idea of the supposed bond tying you both together, wasn't your smartest moment. Cold sweat forms on your forehead, when Lucifer extends his hands out, fingers digging into the flesh of your arms. Then, looking at you from that small distance, he gives you a strangely bored look. Like he has seen everything you've done play out in front of him a million times, like he knows all there is to know about you. 

God save you, you hate that look more than any atrocity he has committed. 

- Don't look at me like that - bravery, or stupidity, you can't decide as words leave your mouth in a snarl. - You don't know anything about me. 

- I know all that's important - he counters - I know God made you for me.

He takes a step closer, and suddenly you've grown very tired of this constant dance. His hands massage their way towards your shoulders, where he grips you tight and drags you towards him. You stumble, nearly falling into his chest, but he straightens you out forcefully, like you're some doll he can maneuver all he likes. 

- I know you're rebellious, just like me - his whisper seeps into your very being, as if you've become infected by his gentle tone - You're lonely, just like me.

You want to shake your head no, you really want to, but he keeps you frozen, enchanted by his sudden closeness, and the barely noticable note of vulnerability hidden in his grey eyes.

 Sam and Dean flood your mind. Your boys, your closest friends. The times you've spent together were few and far between, but you cherish them. You truly do. Which is why, your heart breaks at the realization, that Lucifer is right. Despite the bars, and the hunts, and the long drives, you're lonely. Loneliness follows you like a shadow, too ingrained into your bones to ever leave. But not right now, never when he's around. 

- It's okay, you know - Lucifer sighs, leaning down to kiss right between your collarbones - Sooner or later you'll realize, there's no shelter, no hideout where I wouldn't find you. That's true love, babe.

- Stop - a plea slips between your lips, quiet and pathetic, reminiscent of when you've fallen to your knees, begging a demon to bring your friend back.

What you were pleading for this time, you couldn't really comprehend, all you know is, you don't want to do this. You can't do this, and if this really was true love, wasn't he supposed to understand? 

The beating of your hear escalates, when he moves to grab at your face, hands so perfectly fitting alongside your jaw. He turns your head from side to side, as if wanting to commemorate every angle, etch it into his mind. If it were any other man, you'd be over the moon. If he wasn't a threat of catastrophic magnitude, just waiting to end the lives of your friends and everyone on Earth, you would've craned your neck further, given him access. Accepted your fate.

Yet, when his cold lips press into yours, it's so easy to forget why you've been unwilling all this time. He's gotten better at it, you muse, as he kisses your unmoving mouth, trying to pull some reaction out of you. Finally, you gasp, when he traps your bottom lip between his teeth, and bites down hard enough to draw blood. Immediately he takes advantage, thumbs digging into the hinges of your jaw, until you have no choice, but to open up to him. It's nauseating, the way he kisses you, as if he needs to map out the insides of your mouth right this instance. 

Lucifer pulls away so suddenly, for a second you follow his mouth before steeling yourself. Blood trickles down from your bitten lips, and he launches at the small streak. Tongue laps at the skin of your chin, licking off every trace of red, and the sound he makes is downrigh sinful. Then, emboldened by your taste, his hands push upwards, the muscles of your neck straining, as he moves your head back. 

The skin of your throat is exposed and pulled taunt, and your entire body is ready to collapse, when he presses open mouthed kisses along your trachea. Then, as you let out a  whimper, he moves to the side, kissing and licking a line towards your pulse point. He stays there for a moment, dragging his teeth down the cullumn of your throat, hard enough to make you squirm in discomfort. From gentle coaxing, his ministrations took a sharp turn to roughter territories.  

- So sweet - Lucifer muses to himself, taking another whiff of your scent - I could just eat you up. 

Something in his tone of voice startles you. It's not a cute love confession, a cliche line from a romantic movie. From his lips, it sounds daunting, like a promise he can't wait to fulfill. Your eyes swipe downwards, but all you can see is the top of his head, as he dips down to further abuse your throat. He's not gentle by any means, all teeth and no comfort with the way he nibbles at the skin behind your ear. It's pleasurable, or it would be, if it were any other person, or a person at all. 

Then, the air seems to shift, a sinister streak you're not familiar with crawls the lenght of your back, and you tremble like a caught bird in his unwavering grasp. As if sensing the change, his hands switch the hold on your face, supporting the underside of your jaw and chin, pulling up and up, until you have to stand on your tippy toes. 

- Perhaps I should - ringing fills your ears as tears flood the corners of your eyes - Perhaps that will show you, who you belong to. 

And with that, he pulls back. Like a priest raising his cup at the Holy Communion, he raises your head, eyes roaming across the marks he has made on your throat. And then, he dives down, jaw open, teeth glistening in the darkness of the night. 

You can feel it all, as he tears through skin and muscle, sinking into your trachea as if taking a bite out of a ripe apple. Your scream sounds so far away, so muddled, for a moment you can't recognize it's you that's screaming. Then, he pulls back with a sickening, wet, tearing sound, and your voice dies down in a gargle. Blood floods your mouth, spills through your teeth, a waterfall of red soaking your entire front. Through hazy vision you see him chew and swallow, and the sight churns your insides, as you double over, bile quickly making it's way up what's left of your throat.

Except, it doesn't hit the pavement. It lands on the wooden floors of Bobby's guest room. Confusion barely registers in your panicked state, as you roll off the bed, grabbing at the gaping wound in your throat. A wound that isn't there at all. Phantom pain wrenches a series of shouts from you, like an animal caught in a trap. Begging from help. Knowing it will recieve none. The coarse surface of the floor scratches at your thighs, as you push yourself into a nearest corner, tears mixing with sweat on your face. 

That's when Dean rushes in, Sam right after him. Any other day, you'd consider their company a blessing, but right now all you can think of, is what Lucifer has in store for them. How he can hurt them, to get to you. Castiel teleports into the room soon after, and you wish the floorboards would open up and swallow you whole. 

- He was... - you wince, voice creaking like old hinges - He was in my dream.

That's all Sam needs to cross the room and kneel in front of you, gently pulling at your hands, which are still clutching the non-existent wound on your throat. The skin is red and raw, nail marks trail down from under your chin to your collarbones, but there is nothing else.

- I know - Sam whispers, arms encircling you in a warm hug, that just feels like entrapment - I know, I'm so sorry.

Deep down you know, he understands. The weight of being promised to the Devil, the torment he can bring upon a person, the fear. But right now, all you can feel are teeth, and lips, and hands which are too cold to be anything other than a monster.

Castiel has questions, you can see it, in the way his eyes scan the room, fall on your shaking frame, still pushed into a corner. He doesn't ask them, thankfully, opting to gruffly mutter something about checking the wards around the house. Bobby yells from his office, Dean yells back. You try to focus on the warmth coming from Sam's chest. You stay like that for a couple more minutes, before finally, calming down enough to stand up and wipe your tears off your face with a heavy hand. 

- We'll figure something out - Sam supplies his usual response to anything Apocalypse related.

What used to be a hopeful promise, right now sounds more like a hollow echo.

Dean keeps his opinions to himself, chewing on them as he hands you a beer fresh out of the fridge. Only when the liquid freezes it's way down your pipes, you are certain your throat is where it should be. Your brain is coming back as well, rebellion, loneliness, all the traits Lucifer has read from you. They mix with anger, slowly rising within your chest, because fuck that. Fuck him, fuck God and fuck every single entity responsible for your current predicament.

- Yeah - you force yourself to sound convinced - Yeah, we'll kick his fucking ass.

[tequilaasquared]

God the fact that we were meant to fully take Fiona’s side during her whole ‘independent Fiona’ phase in s7 pisses me off. Asking the family that she CHOSE to become legal guardian of to put her at the bottom of their emergency contact lists, (underneath a couple with small children and a business who was unrelated to them, and their bipolar brother who had a super high pressure and high responsibility job) was completely unfair and irresponsible frankly. And doing it after she’d been called to Ian’s work as his emergency contact because he was clearly dealing with hypomania and his colleagues were concerned just felt like an extra twist of the knife. But I understood her reasoning to an extent.

But threatening to make her underage sister and her baby niece homeless because she was still pissed a traumatised 14 year old decided having a baby was the only way to become a part of a stable family environment? That was just plain cruel. Fiona didn’t have to be happy or agree with Debbie, and was well within her right to let Debbie know her disappointment and frustration, but she was still her legal guardian and she knew better! She was an adult and Debbie was a child being threatened with homelessness by the woman that raised her. Demanding Debbie get a job and getting her the application and Debbie following through and going to the interview, only for Fiona to actively sabotage it bringing Franny mid way through her interview was cruel and so unFiona like. Fiona was a grown ass 27 year old and should’ve sat Debbie down to communicate with her. I get that Debbie could be petulant and argumentative but she was a literal child! Fiona should’ve put her foot down and demand Debbie discuss with her how best to organise balancing work with childcare instead of offering zero support. She also lived with 3 brothers old enough to babysit Franny from time to time whilst Debbie worked. One of the overarching themes of Shameless was how the Gallaghers literally raised each other because their parents were awful human beings and you’re telling me Franny’s uncles couldn’t look after her for a few hours a week? It frustrates the shit out of me that the narrative successively villainised a young, impressionable girl because she made stupid decisions, influenced by grooming and the toxicity of her home life and her friends. And her following through with the decision to have a baby was further cemented by her sister’s cruel ultimatum and her only actual support at the time coming from her narcissistic, opportunistic father who used her vulnerability for his own gain.

Fiona was let down and emotionally neglected by Monica and she participated in that cycle of abuse with her pettiness towards Debbie. And I say that as someone whose favourite character for most of Shameless’ run was Fiona.

[webslingingslasher]

banner made by: @thursdaygxrls

PROLOGUE:: FRIDAY MEETING

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 1ST

Frat row was a stretch of homes between Broadway and Amsterdam. One hundred and fourteenth street had the majority of houses, five frats bled into a hundred and thirteenth street. 

Sigma Nu was one of them. 

It looked like a normal neighborhood, hidden in plain sight. Near the college but not on school grounds per university rules. A street across the final dorm building where houses connected back to back. Personality differentiated the homes, each frat had their own house color, banners and logo.

Frat row made it easy to party, you could jump to five parties in one night if you wanted, and that was just the street Sigma Nu was on. There was an infinite number on the streets behind theirs. 

There was some movement happening on the block, but not much. Fraternity presidents moved in two weeks before the start of school, and chapter officers moved in a week before. No one surrounded the Sig Nu house, you don’t think anyone has moved in yet besides Trent. 

They took turns moving in so the roads wouldn’t be a mess, Sig Nu must be one of the last houses on the block to move in. 

It felt odd being on frat row in the daytime, it was calm. It felt like a residential neighborhood, like you’d greet someone collecting the newspaper or bringing their trash can inside. The summer cleaned up the street, in a few weeks it’d be littered with plastic cups and dried vomit. 

You weren’t sure what it felt like, but you knew it didn’t feel like a frat house. Especially not their frat house, Sig Nu was the party house. It always has been. It was like a glitch in the matrix. 

There were thick white columns that made Sigma Nu stand out from the others on the block, cement stairs that led to and from the street. Their door was a burgundy red, two stone lions that were typically dressed up on either side of their porch. There was a wooden porch swing that you wanted to take for a ride, it seemed like a good place to be on a chilly night out. 

Shaking out your nerves you slowly walked up the steps, and pushed down on the door handle, Sigma Nu opening itself up for you. 

It was a little empty and too bright on the inside. 

And quiet. 

You allowed yourself in per instruction, your meeting partner sitting at the kitchen table gestures for you to sit. The second you scoot in he starts asking.

“Who are you?” 

“Ally’s friend.” 

Trent Simpson looked you up and down, his pen clicking repeatedly, it’s the only sound coming from around you. You stare into his eyes, he’s trying to figure you out and you don’t want him to. Giving him a few cryptic dm’s and insisting you meet before the year started, making sure to specify absolutely no one else was allowed. 

You presented him with the information, and allowed a small glance over to prove you had something of interest to him. 

“So, what do you want?” it’s natural for him to assume you want something, no one presents this type of arsenal without reason. 

Trent didn’t need to know why yet, what mattered was if he was up for the task. 

“I need to know you’re willing to do something for it.” 

“What kind of something?” You find his caution amusing, was the big bad president scared of you? 

“Depends on what you’re willing to do. I help out your frat, your frat helps out me.” 

Your words offended him, Trent scoffed and tossed his pen to the table, a disgusted curl of his lip made you look away. “My frat doesn’t need your help.” You killed any deal with your words, his ego is too big. You have to fight dominance with dominance, but you do it politely. Girls don’t start fights, but they’ll finish them. 

You clear your throat and give him a gentle smile, you cross one leg over the other and run your hands down your thighs. 

“Trent Simpson, third year finance major. I think that’s impressive. Math is hard, ya’know? I’m sure you understand, because you failed out, didn’t you?” 

Uh oh. Did you just beat him at his own game? 

Trent’s jaw clenched, “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, and neither do you.” 

A barbie smile, “you’re so silly, Trent. It was last January, remember? They sent you that letter about not returning, academic dismissal, correct?” You take his silence to continue, “but your dad is a very, very successful man, isn’t he? And you’re the only son, you’ve got to follow in his footsteps, he’s counting on it. But he couldn’t stand that you failed him and dad wasn’t going to let it ruin his image.” 

Trent’s fist was shaking with how hard he clenched it. 

“Dad made a donation, and wow! He’s a little petty, you maintained an average of fourteen, so you at least put in that fourteen percent, right? But, you had to make up for the rest of it, didn’t you?” 

“I suggest you shut the fuck up.” 

“Eighty six thousand dollars, and the next day you had an email reinstating you as a student.” 

He’s fuming, you’ve never seen a human face go so red. Trent tries to speak but you’re not done yet, you have one last thing to add, then, he could play his cards. 

“No, your frat doesn’t need my help, but it would be nice. I need your frats help, and I thought this would be a nice way to get it. You’re just collateral, Simpson, it’s nothing personal.” 

He’s mad but something else is brewing, did you just impress him? 

Trent leans until his shoulders hit the back of his chair, his left hand picks up the pen he had earlier and he starts clicking. He’s thinking, the pen drops again. 

“You’re blackmailing me.” 

Amused. Impressed. Challenged. 

“You didn’t take the bait and it would’ve been stupid to come here without the upper hand, don’t you think?” 

Trent leans forward and stretches his hand across the table, waving the folder in your hand over. “Let me look at them again.” You glide it across the oak. He takes his time, slowly looking up at you. 

“What do you need from me?” 

You’ve got him right where you want him. 

“We’ll talk next Friday?” 

Trent nods stiffly, “we’ll talk next Friday.” 

You stand to leave, politely pushing your seat in when he stops you again. Trent held out his hand, “it’s a pleasure to be in business with you.” 

You lean to reach him, gripping tight you shake his hand. 

A dirty smirk wipes across your face, “pleasure’s all mine.” 

[what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me]

He’s a work in progress still but I wanted to share the first pass of his completed look so badly X)

I’ve had Sir Meteor in progress since August 2023, if you want to see the progress it will be under the read more!

Sir Meteor’s story starts with my fist kirby OC I made, Terra Knight! I won’t talk about him too much except that I knew from early on he had a older brother. TK originally has a skull mask in his very early concepts, but then I learned Axe Knight existed, and they looked too similar. I shelved the concept for a while until I had more ideas.

In August 2023, I started to sketch out allosaurus skulls because I had wanted to revisit the concept and thought maybe I would redesign Terra Knight to have a dinosaur skull mask. It did not happen, but that planted the seed.

In November, I had been struck with inspiration and started doodling. The name is very important to the lore of my OCs and is very deliberate, so once I figured out the name for Sir Meteor, a lot of elements fell into place instantly!!

This is the first time I gave Meteor colors, and I also put him next to his siblings so they would look cohesive. Me mentioning how he doesn’t even have shoes yet is foreshadowing.

In the following day, I sketched him more to get a feeling for his design!!

The most notable thing about this is probably 1.) here I cemented the twin-tail cape because it looks like the tail of a comet and 2.) since it looked like a comet, I wanted the pauldron to include a star somehow

Also fun fact!!! The shape of his horns is directly inspired by Triceratops horns!!

Which led to the designing of his pauldrons later in November!

I ended up combining elements of the first and third design because together they would look like shooting stars!

This is also when I decided on giving him the four pointed star blushing! Around this time I posted a sketch of Meta Knight with star blushes and I wanted to include more fun blush shapes. Also the four pointed star is a subtle Galacta Knight reference! Sir Meteor is genuinely old, prehistoric even, and he comes from that time period, and I wanted the star shapes to reflect that

After this I was stuck. I was extremely stuck and could not figure out how to design his shoes. Since everything else was so themed, it had to mean the shoes had to match as well. I wanted to keep the prehistoric/star themes, going strong. I tried a few times to give him plain armor but it did not look correct at all!

I took a few months to think about it. Another important thing is that whatever shoe I drew had to look good and cohesive with AND without his skull mask. It was hard to balance but yesterday (21 February) I began to cook.

On the sketch page, you can see how the thought process evolved from the top of the page downwards. You can see the “haha drawing smiles with sharp teeth- oh wait a minute hold on” happen in real time.

On the page on the right, is when I finally designed his shoes!!! THE EVIL IS DEFEATED!!!!

This character is so heavily themed and I thought about it so much. So. Much. If anyone actually read this breakdown you deserve a gold star thank you for listening to my insane, several month long thought process. I’m so proud of him for a reason. Now I need to finalize the colors and stuff but for now enjoy!

EDIT: while making Meteor’s reference, i also went through a LOT of altered color pallets.