#i flung them open as i stared at her and she was like oh! then settled down

[lilacxquartz]

in a way i’m kind of scared of jjk ending for the reason that it’s been such a long hyperfixation for me that i don’t want it to end just for that alone

like, i dunno though. usually when i go through anime phases, it’s very rare for me to focus on more than one character. even with aot, it was like, i’m making it through for levi, haha…

but you know how it is for jjk, which is… yeah. so maybe the delusions can last a while longer, hopefully.

[connorsui]

Luke & Kieran/ Sylus x wife! Reader || Imagine ||

"One last game!"

Note: not as polished as I would like but I did always imagined how these two would be like around their boss kid? -

The evening was coming to a close, and the house, bathed in a soft, warm glow, looked like it had been hit by a miniature hurricane. Pink toys—plushies, blocks, glittery shoes—were scattered haphazardly across the living room floor, the remnants of what had once been an innocent evening of fun. Now, the peaceful warmth of the home had been overtaken by a growing sense of chaos as frantic footsteps reverberated through the hallways.

Luke and Kieran were in full-blown panic mode, tearing through the house. They tossed pillows, peeked under tables, and flung open every door, desperately searching for a toddler who had seemingly vanished without a trace.

“You can trust us with the kid, we said! Nothing bad will happen, we said!” Kieran muttered bitterly, lifting a cushion and glancing under the couch. “And now look! Thirty minutes of searching, and she’s gone! GONE!” His voice cracked as he threw the cushion across the room in frustration.

Luke, visibly rattled but trying to maintain some semblance of calm, walked over to Kieran. “Come on, she couldn’t have gotten that far, right? I mean, her legs are tiny! Point A to point B takes her forever.”

Kieran, still crouched on the floor, slowly rose and stared at Luke, incredulous. “Yeah, and you remember how fast she moved when she took Mephisto on that ‘plane ride’ with her plushies? Thought the bird was too slow to fly?”

Luke folded his arms, trying to look nonchalant but clearly feeling the pressure. “Okay, yeah. And your point?”

“My point is... the kid can run.”

“Oh, that’s just perfect,” Luke groaned dramatically, flopping onto the floor in complete defeat. “None of this would���ve happened if someone hadn’t suggested one ‘finaaaal’ game with the boss’s kid. One minute she’s here, and the next—POOF! Gone. With a trail of glitter.”

Kieran stared at Luke in disbelief. Even though they were both wearing masks, Luke could feel the heat of Kieran’s glare. “Wait—are you seriously blaming me for this?”

“Who else?”

Kieran threw his hands up. “Who else? Uh, who was it that thought party cans were a great ‘welcome back’ surprise for the boss and his wife, huh?”

“Well, it was either that or hide-and-seek, and you—”

Before Luke could finish his retort, they both froze. A burst of giggles echoed from upstairs, followed by the unmistakable click of a door locking. They stared at each other, wide-eyed.

“How… how did she get upstairs!?” Luke whispered in disbelief, his voice shaky.

Without a word, they both bolted toward the staircase, skidding to a halt at the sight of the baby gate, now hanging loosely by its hinges. It was tilted precariously, as if it had been outwitted by the most cunning toddler alive.

“Oh, she’s smart—” Luke began, but Kieran cut him off with a sharp smack to the back of his head.

“Focus!” Kieran growled, stepping forward. “Alright, kiddo, time to come out now!” His voice was firm but coaxing. But instead of the sound of obedient little feet, they were met with more giggling, playful and distant, echoing through the upstairs hallway.

Luke exchanged a glance with Kieran, who rolled his eyes as they both cautiously climbed the stairs. “This is going to be bad,” Luke muttered under his breath.

The upstairs hallway was dimly lit, the shadows stretching along the walls. Suddenly, Sylus' daughter peeked her head around the corner, her bright red eyes wide with mischief. The second she spotted them, she squealed with delight and darted away, disappearing around the bend.

“Oh, come on!” Kieran groaned, as they raced after her, rounding the corner just in time to see the door to the boss’s office wide open.

“There’s no way she’s in there...” Luke whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.

“How did she even get in here?” Kieran asked, just as confused.

They entered the office cautiously, careful not to disturb anything. The room was pristine, neatly organized—until they noticed a pair of tiny feet peeking out from beneath the desk. And there it was again: that unmistakable giggle.

Kieran’s eyes lit up with an idea. He motioned for Luke to come closer. “Alright, here’s the plan: you go left, I’ll take the right. We jump out, and give her a little scare.”

Luke grinned. “Perfect.”

They positioned themselves on either side of the desk, ready to strike. But before they could even make their move, Sylus' daughter popped out from beneath the desk, a wide grin plastered across her face.

“Surprise!” she shrieked, spraying them both with party cans they had been saving for later. Neon foam shot out, covering Luke and Kieran in a sticky mess of silly string as the toddler collapsed into giggles.

“Surprise! Surprise! I win! I win!” she chanted, hopping up and down with glee as she sprayed them again.

Luke, now covered head to toe in foam, looked over at Kieran, both of them utterly defeated, but unable to suppress a smile. Her excitement was contagious.

“Alright, that’s enough, kiddo,” Luke laughed, scooping her up as she squealed, still waving the can.

Kieran quickly snatched the can from her, shaking his head with a playful smirk. “Yeah, yeah. You win.”

Setting her down, they both attempted to question her about her little escapade, but all she did was giggle uncontrollably, covering her face with her tiny hands. “I didnt leeeaaveee I played!, I played and won” she squealed between bursts of laughter.

Before they could question her even further, the sound of footsteps behind them made them freeze. They slowly turned, only to see You and Sylus standing in the doorway, watching the scene unfold with amused expressions.

Silly string wasn’t just on Luke and Kieran—it was everywhere. The desk, the chair, the floor—nothing had escaped the carnage.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, trying to hide the laughter. “I - I ...take it you all had a great time?”

Luke and Kieran stood in stunned silence, caught red-handed in the chaos, while Sylus' daughter grinned proudly.

“Mommy! Mommy!” she cried, running towards you with open arms. “We had so much fun today! Mommy, look!”

You bent down, scooping her up with a warm smile, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I can see that, sweetheart.”

As Luke and Kieran stood there, still sticky and covered in foam, they glanced over at Sylus, who crossed his arms, looking every bit the stern boss. His eyes flicked over the mess, then back at the two men, who stood awkwardly under his gaze.

“Uh... we tried our best,” Luke muttered weakly, scratching the back of his head. “She’s... uh, faster than she looks.”

Kieran nodded, backing him up. “Yeah, I mean, we had a plan! But she outsmarted us.”

You stifled another laugh, turning to Sylus. “Go easy on them. They did try, after all.”

Sylus’ expression softened, though the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No promises,” he muttered, before walking past them into the office to inspect the damage.

[hotshotsxyz]

hope for the future (got me on my knees)

(buddie) (s8 spec) (2.4k words) car crash spec <3 title from bastille's hope for the future, which, imo, is one of the eddie songs of all time cw: blood (like. a lot)

Eddie’s not supposed to be here. He’s not—

He’s—

God, he’s not supposed to be here again. He’s not even on shift. But Buck is.

It was a favor. He’s covering for a last minute absence on C shift. So now he’s—

He’s on shift and he’s lying in the middle of the road and he’s not moving. And Eddie. Can’t. Breathe.

“Buck!” someone shouts, and Jesus it sounds like their entire world just crumbled. Eddie’s throat feels raw like—

Oh.

He’s the one screaming.

Buck’s three feet away from him, sluggishly bleeding out on the pavement. Shannon’s six feet under in a graveyard halfway across the city. Buck’s ribs are giving way beneath Eddie’s hands. Buck’s blood is soaking through his jeans. It’s staining him, his skin, his mind.

He—

“Sir!” Someone snaps. “You need to—shit, Diaz?”

No, that’s—it’s not Eddie who’s broken and unmoving on the ground. It’s not Eddie who’s going to die with or without a tube down his throat.

It’s—

It’s—

Two pairs of hands grab him, yank him away.

“No!” Eddie screams, thrashing wildly at whoever it is that thinks they can keep him from Buck.

“Diaz, stop!”

He can’t. He won’t.

“You have to let them help him.”

They won’t do enough. Only Eddie will fight for him hard enough. Only Eddie knows how to bring him back. An animalistic snarl climbs out from his chest.

“I’ve got a pulse!” a paramedic Eddie doesn’t recognize shouts. She’s a floater, probably.

A floater is holding Buck’s life in her hands. Does she even know? Does she know that the world will stop turning if he’s not in it?

Eddie’s knees hit the pavement. Distantly, he feels the sting. Mostly, though, he feels Buck’s blood. It’s on his hands and soaking through his clothes, painting him red, red, red.

Two firefighters carefully roll Buck onto a body board and lift him to the stretcher. For a split second, it’s 2019. Eddie’s watching his wife die. He’s holding Buck’s hand and trying not to stare at his mangled leg.

“Diaz! Now or never, are you coming with us?”

He doesn’t feel himself move, but between one blink and the next he finds himself in the back of an ambulance staring down at his—

His—

Buck’s eyelashes flutter and Eddie can’t do this.

“Please,” he sobs, clutching Buck’s hand. “You—you have to—”

He’s squeezing too hard. So hard he might break Buck’s hand, but he’s terrified that if he lets go, so will Buck.

The floater moves to intubate, but before she can Buck heaves a shuddering breath and opens his eyes.

Eddie thinks he might be screaming again, only this time the sound is trapped deep inside him.

“Eds… hurt?” Buck manages.

He must be. He’s dying maybe, because that’s the only explanation he can think of for the creeping numbness in his limbs.

“He’s fine, Buckley,” the floater says.

She’s wrong. She doesn’t— how could she? She doesn’t know that every piece of Eddie that’s worth anything is dying right alongside his—

“I can’t wait any longer,” she says apologetically before shoving a plastic tube down Buck’s trachea. He chokes on it, and oh, Eddie’s choking too.

The ambulance slows and Eddie’s about to bang against the wall, about to demand they keep going, when the doors are flung open revealing an entire trauma team dressed in pristine scrubs.

The floater rattles off Buck’s vitals and the injuries they know of.

As they pull Buck from the back of the ambulance, one of the doctors catches Eddie’s eye. He nods, and Eddie hopes to God that means he knows that Los Angeles will be swallowed by the sea if this man doesn’t live.

All at once, Buck is gone and Eddie’s left standing next to an ambulance that could be the last place he ever hears Buck speak.

“Diaz, you okay?” The C shift captain whose name Eddie can’t be bothered to remember right now asks.

No.

No.

No.

He doesn’t answer.

…

There’s blood on his face. Buck’s blood. Eddie doesn’t— he’s not sure how it got there, but now that he sees it, he can feel it too. It’s tacky and drying and God, there’s so much.

Gentle hands turn him away from the mirror.

“No,” Eddie says as his sluggish brain recognizes Bobby. “No, no he can’t—“

Bobby was there when—

He held Eddie. Let him weep into his shoulder. Stood steady as Eddie’s world crumbled to pieces.

“He’s in surgery,” Bobby says.

“They don’t know,” Eddie babbles.

Bobby’s face creases in concern. “Know what, Eddie?”

“He’s— he—“ He can’t force the words out.

“Eddie,” he repeats forcefully.

“I love him,” Eddie croaks.

Bobby, steadfast and solid, cracks.

One sob escapes his chest, then another, and soon they’re both sliding to grimy bathroom floor, trying not to shatter entirely.

“I can’t lose another—“ Bobby gasps.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. Bobby can’t lose another child. He can’t lose another spouse. Not now, not when he’s just begun to understand the depth of what he’s been denying himself for what feels like his entire life. Not now, not ever. Not— not, Buck.

The bathroom door bangs open and Hen steps in. Tear tracks stain her cheeks, but Eddie can’t bring himself to analyze her expression further. If Buck’s— Eddie wants to live in a world that hasn’t quite ended as long as he possibly can.

“No update,” she says quietly.

She grabs a few paper towels and wets them in the sink. She kneels in front of Eddie and brings one to his face. He flinches back.

“Eddie?” she asks.

He swallows past the lump in his throat. “What if…”

What if the blood staining his skin is the last piece of Buck he gets to keep? What if he dies on the operating table? What if he’s already dead? Eddie can’t— he won’t let anyone take the last of him away.

A harsh sob drags itself past his lips.

“Oh, Eddie,” Hen whispers, and why do people keep saying his name?

No one— he’s never heard it so many times from anyone but Buck. He doesn’t want to hear it from anyone but Buck. He shakes his head and presses his hands to his ears.

Hen says something else, but all he can hear is the whoosh of his own pulse, and it’s so unfair. Shouldn’t his heart know not to beat until he’s sure Buck’s will again?

“Eddie,” Hen says, taking his hands. “Let me, please.”

He can’t bring himself to agree, but he doesn’t fight back when she raises the paper towel to his face again. She pulls it across his skin in gentle drags, but it’s cold and Eddie can’t help but think uncharitably that Buck would’ve waited for the water to warm before he wet the towels.

When she’s done with his face, Hen guides him to the sink to wash the blood from his hands too. For a split second, Eddie wonders if Buck washed his blood away in this same sink after Eddie was shot. He wonders if Buck’s hands shook the way his are shaking now.

“That’s good Eddie, there you go,” Hen encourages him softly.

He bristles at her careful tone. Nothing she says can make any of this better or worse, not unless she can tell him with absolute certainty whether or not Buck will survive the night.

“I grabbed your duffle from the station,” she continues, and it’s only then that he notices his own bag slung over her shoulder. “Think you can get changed?”

Eddie nods mutely. Distantly, it occurs to him that this is part of what makes Hen such a good paramedic— her ability to meet someone where they are. He peels off his henley and exchanges it for the long sleeve LAFD crewneck she hands him.

He swaps his pants next, and for the first time, wearing a piece of the uniform feels wrong. He couldn’t— he wasn’t a medic today. If it had just been him and Buck out there, Buck would be dead already. He’d, what? Held his torn skin together? As if that was the wound that was going to kill him. Shannon didn’t even bleed when she died.

“Maddie and Chim are waiting for you,” Hen says, nodding toward the door. “I’m going to sit with Cap for a little while, okay?”

Again, Eddie nods. He stumbles through the door and into the arms of a woman who, for all they share, he barely knows.

He can’t bring himself to look her in the eye. She’ll know, he thinks, know that he didn’t do enough. Know that he failed one of the three people she loves most in this world.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks into her hair.

“For what?” she asks shakily.

“I should’ve— I didn’t—“

“You were there,” Maddie says. “You made sure he knows he’s not alone.”

Eddie swallows harshly.

“He knows what he’s fighting for,” Maddie continues. “Thank you.”

He wants to shake her. He should’ve done more. He’d demanded it once of a different team of doctors, and then he couldn’t even—

He was there and it didn’t matter. Buck’s still dying in a sterile operating room.

Maddie pushes him toward a chair next to Chimney in the waiting room, then sits on his other side. They talk to him, Eddie thinks, but he doesn’t hear a word.

…

“Family of Evan Buckley?”

Eddie’s on his feet before he’s even made a conscious decision to stand. Maddie follows quickly behind him, and— oh, Bobby’s in the waiting room now, too.

The doctor smiles at them, and while Eddie’s sure it’s meant to be reassuring, every second that passes without news is more excruciating than the last.

“Mr. Buckley did well in surgery,” she says.

Eddie’s entire body sags, like a marionette with its strings cut. Hen’s subtle but steadying hand on his back is the only reason he doesn’t collapse to the floor right then and there.

“He’s not out of the woods yet,” the doctor continues, “but his CT was clear and we were able to locate and repair the source of his internal bleeding.”

“He’s going to be okay?” Maddie asks, high and watery.

The doctor nods. “We’d like to keep him a few days for observation, but barring unforeseen complications, we believe he’ll make a full recovery.”

Maddie presses a hand to her mouth and nods, eyes shining.

“The effects of the anesthesia should be wearing off soon, I can take two of you to his room.”

To Eddie’s surprise, Maddie takes his hand. “We’ll—us,” she says.

Eddie looks at Maddie, then Bobby. “Are you—are you sure?”

“Go,” Bobby says. “He needs you.”

Eddie’s not sure that’s true, but he sure as hell needs Buck and he—he thinks this is probably one of those times when he’s allowed to be a little selfish.

“Through these doors,” the doctor says, leading them back with a wave of her key card.

…

He’s pale, unnaturally so. It’s like, despite the massive transfusion he received, there still isn’t enough blood pumping through his veins. Eddie wishes he could wring out his shirt and return every drop he took.

“Eddie, what happened?” Maddie asks softly.

Eddie shakes his head. “I, uh, I wasn’t supposed to be there,” he says haltingly.

Maddie takes his hand with the one that isn’t holding Buck’s and squeezes.

“I don’t think he knew I was there,” Eddie continues. “It was just… God, Maddie, it was a coincidence.”

Eddie closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath.

“It came out of nowhere. They were responding to a fender bender, wouldn’t have even been a call except one of the drivers was stuck in their car, I think. He was helping someone when it—there was a car. And then he was just—I couldn’t—he—”

Maddie squeezes his hand again. “You know, I—” she hesitates, then nods like she’s made a decision. “I’ve never seen him happy the way he is with you.”

Against Eddie’s will, a pained noise escapes his throat. “I don’t know why,” he admits. He looks down at his feet.

“Sure,” Maddie says, blowing out an amused huff.

“He’s so good. He walks into a room and everything gets brighter. He’s the sun,” Eddie says helplessly.

Maddie’s smile turns impossibly fond. “You love him,” she says. It’s not a question.

A smile of his own spreads unbidden on his lips. “How could I not?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath.

Eddie whips his head around and sees Buck, eyes open, lips parted.

“Eddie,” he breathes.

He should be panicking, maybe. Throat closing, heart racing, but—the singular feeling in his chest is relief.

“Hey, Buck,” Eddie says, incapable of and unwilling to keep the warmth from his voice.

“You—” Buck blinks twice, slow, like he’s trying to keep himself awake.

Eddie lays a hand on his ankle and squeezes. “Rest,” he says. “I’ll stay.”

“Stay… s’nice,” Buck slurs as he slips back into sleep.

“For what it’s worth,” Maddie says after a long moment, “pretty sure he loves you, too.”

Eddie watches the slow rise and fall of Buck’s chest. “Yeah,” he says, biting down on a grin that’s far too wide for the ICU, “I think he might.”

“Could take a second for him to work that out for himself,” Maddie says.

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle. “Oh, I know,” he says. “Gives me time to pick out a ring,” he jokes. Kind of.

Maddie laughs and shakes her head. “Is this your way of asking for my permission to propose?”

“Well I’m not going to ask your parents,” Eddie replies, wrinkling his nose.

Maddie’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “Could you imagine if I said no after all of this?”

“I’d ask him anyway,” Eddie admits.

“Good answer,” Maddie says.

Eddie laughs. “Oh, so that was a test?”

“No,” Maddie replies, shaking her head. “But he deserves someone that chooses him no matter what.”

“I do,” Eddie says with conviction. “I will.”

“Then yes,” Maddie says. “Just—don’t ask him in the hospital.”

[sp0o0kylights]

Knight Commander Stephan Harrington, Champion of Light, right hand to the newly crowned (and very young) Queen Elaine, was tied up on the floor. 

Unfortunately, so was Eddie.

Which wasn’t intentional--it certainly had not been the plan (not that kidnapping two royal knights had been the plan either)--but it was the outcome that had happened and so, Eddie had to deal. 

Now if only he could get the damn bespelled ropes from entangling him…

“You are incredibly bad at this.” The knight informed him in an amused tone. “Like, insanely bad. You should be ashamed levels of bad.” 

…which would be a lot easier if he wasn’t being heckled. 

“I am not!” Eddie defended, as he finally managed to free himself, throwing the offending, wiggling ropes across the room. Never again would he buy from the cheap spell stall in the market. 

“This is a clear and obvious ploy to get you to feel like I am in over my head and you--both of you!--are falling for it!” 

He leapt to his feet, spinning around and staring down at his captives with a look he hoped was threatening.

(It wasn’t.) 

“We've been kidnapped a handful of times, you know.” Knight First Class Robin Buckley spoke up from her position tied next to her commander. “People tend to put way more thought into it than this.” 

She’d adjusted her position sometime between her initial capture (a spell he'd purchased that Eddie had intended to hit the royal carriage and not the knights escorting it) to sit cross legged, hands bound behind her back.

“At least one thought, anyway. You gotta admit this feels pretty desperate.” Stephan piled on. He’d been more entertained than pissed ever since Eddie had taken himself down with his own tools, and the wisecracks were getting worse. 

“Thank you, Sir Stephan--”

“You can just call me Steve, man.” 

“—but some of us are on a tight deadline here. And for your information,” He brought himself to his full height, trying to loom over them menacingly, “nobody goes around kidnapping royalty unless they’re absolutely desperate.”

Not that he’d succeeded in the “royalty” department, but he’d gotten close enough. 

“Oh that reeks of a tragic backstory.” Robin said, like she was seated at a dinner party and not on the floor. “Did you get cursed?” 

“He looks like the type of guy to get cursed.” Steve agreed, head tilting like a faithful dogs as he examined his captor. 

Frustration overwhelmed him in a wave and Eddie went to angrily yank on his hair before catching himself in the act. As good as it would feel in the moment, it would not help him convince the idiots before him that this was serious, dammit! 

The result was that he flung his hands around wildly for a moment, before storming off across the room of the little abandoned cabin he’d found, face burning a brilliant, obvious red. 

“I didn’t get cursed, I got accused of--oh. Oh, no, I will not be caught monologuing, fuck you!”

He whirled on his heels, pointing a finger at their stupid faces. “Why I did it doesn’t even matter!” 

(Or rather, it did matter—a lot, actually—but not right now. Not to them.

Stupid fucking royal employees and their stupid fucking charmed lives.) 

He wasn’t shrieking, he wasn’t--except he was, and both knights traded a look behind his back as he paced wildly about. “I caught you, and I am going to use you to get what I want!” 

“Right, sure.” Steve said, nonplussed. “Say, did you maybe touch a weird looking, possibly magical item by chance? Or gave your name to a weirdly attractive looking lady who seems to love yapping about royal court band practices and who definitely wasn't one of the Fae?” 

He cast a sly look at his companion with that last line, and was rewarded when her mouth popped open in instant offense. 

“You swore you’d stop bringing that up!” Robin said, snapping a leg out in a kick, nailing her companion in the thigh with one thick boot. 

“I swore I’d stop bringing up the incident with Nancy.” Steve fired back, taking her kicks with ease. “And all those archery lessons you swore you needed, because you apparently hit your head in battle and forgot how a bow worked--”

“Shut up, Dingus!” Robin growled, in tandem with Eddie’s mounting panic. 

This was not, at all, going how this was supposed to. Not that anything had as it was supposed to, since shit went sideways, but the knights were at least could have the decency to be somewhat afraid of him! 

Or angry.

Eddie could work with angry!

This two bit comedy routine he was being subjected to instead of any rational reaction was just the icing on top of the weird cake of his life and he was this close to having a full blown mental breakdown about it. 

Which, of course, was exactly when they had to go and make things worse.

Robin stopped kicking her commander and turned back to Eddie, eyes narrowing with the sharpness of someone who had just put something big together. “Hey, hold on—aren’t you that bard half the kingdom won’t shut up about? Eddie the Balladeer?”

Because naturally, the first time anyone recognized him since his life went to hell, it had to be the people he’d just kidnapped.

(He should have listened to his uncle and become a woodworker.) 

“I was.” Eddie grumped. “More like fuckin’ Eddie the Banished now. But again,” He stressed the word with a harsh flick of both hands, “that doesn’t matter.” 

“Why not?” Steve pressed him. “Pretty sure Dustin is planning on you playing at his birthday party. He’s obsessed with that weird song you do. The one with the bed spring noises.” 

Eddie did not know who Dustin was, but after the chaos of the past two weeks, it was only a matter of time before word of his so-called crimes reached the capitol and shredded whatever remained of his reputation.

“Considering I’ve been accused of murder and my entire damn hometown thinks I’m leading satanic rituals, I seriously doubt that,” he sneered, aiming for something haughty and menacing—anything that would make them start taking this whole thing seriously. 

Steve and Robin exchanged another look, the kind only two people sharing a single brain cell could, the unspoken agreement loud and clear on their faces: ‘Do Not Laugh Right Now.

Which was, frankly, insulting, given the sheer level of trauma that came with being branded a murderer.

“Who accused you of satanic worship?” Steve managed to ask, clearly struggling to keep his words giggle free. “You look like one of those wobbly baby deer. You know, with the big, cute eyes.”

Eddie glowered at him. “Are you deaf? I just said it was the entire town!” 

(He determinedly ignored the fact that Steve had just compared him to a damn woodland creature—and called him cute, on top of it.)

“Is this one of those things wrong place wrong time things?” Robin tacked on, like this was a fun puzzle and not Eddie’s life spiraling wildly out of control. “Like, ‘there’s a dead body on the floor and I’m holding a knife but I swear I just walked in here right before the constable did’ type of situations?” 

“I bet the person he apparently murdered isn’t even dead.” Steve fake-whispered to Robin conspiratorially, eyes never leaving Eddie’s. They were crinkled at the edges in a smile, like this entire thing was getting better by the second. “Money says he helped a fair maiden get out of an awful marriage and the shitty fiancé accused him of killing her.” 

Which is exactly what happened, the fucking dick. 

Jaw swimming with his attempts to get out too many words at once, Eddie sputtered. “Of course she isn’t dea--I mean, I, no!” 

“Ha! Steve you totally nailed it.” Robin said, leaning back in triumph. “Which means Dongus here was trying to kidnap one of the Princes to get someone to listen to you. God that’s so cliche.” 

“It’s not like I asked for it to happen!” Eddie shrilled, tone hitting notes he hadn’t been aware his throat could make. 

“Man, I'm good.” Steve said, ignoring Eddie entirely. "I should've been a detective."

“Please, you’re much better at looking intimidating than actually being intimidating. Why do you think Hopper made you Champion, Mr. Model?” 

Eddie’s hands were in his hair again, and this time, he gave up all pretenses of looking cool and evil and let himself tear at it. 

“Why I’m doing this doesn’t matter because it’s not like you two can fucking help me!” 

That, at least, cut through the good cheer, succeeding in finally getting both knights to shut up. 

“I’m dead if I don’t fix this, but worse is if they go on and target Wayne, or Gareth or the rest of the band, or--” He wasn’t exactly hyperventilating, but he was breathing awfully fast. “I can’t let that fucknut Carver go on a whole rampage and hurt everyone who ever associated with me!” 

Wayne was fairly talented at talking the village down, but that had always been when Eddie had been accused of selling fake potions or replacing the town flag with Jason’s undergarments. 

He was not going to be able to fight off an angry mob, should they decide to make the trek to him. 

“Hey.” Steve said, his voice losing all the humor it had before. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay!”

“We can help make it okay.” Robin said gently and it become abruptly clear that his kidnapping victims were now trying to comfort him, because life just had to kick him while he was down. “We’re Knights of the Kingdom, after all.” 

“Oh and I suppose I’m just supposed to untie you and you’ll--what?” Eddie glared at them, hands pulling hard at his hair. “Just let the whole kidnapping thing go? Help me out of the goodness of your hearts instead of arresting me and throwing me in the stockades?” 

Steve shrugged. “I mean, yeah.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Eddie said flatly. 

“Does it help if we tell you this isn’t a contender for the top ten weirdest situations we’ve been in?” Robin asked. “Like, it’s not even close.” 

“No. No it does not.”

“Okay.” Steve said, in a ‘thinking aloud’ sort of voice. “How about this? We give you our words as knights that we’ll help clear your name, and you can stick with us so no one else tries anything until we do.” 

Like Eddie was dumb enough to fall for that bullshit. 

“And why would you do that? What's in it for you to help clear my name?” He challenged them. “We both know the second I untie either of you, you’re going to overwhelm me and take me in. I’m not taking that chance.”

Not with Wayne on the line. 

“Has anyone ever told you you have trust issues?” Steve asked, pushing Eddie right over the edge. 

“I was convicted!” He dropped his hands in a crazed movement, only to smack the back of one against the other's palm in time with his shrieking. “Of! Murder!” 

He must have hit another shrill note, because Steve and Robin both winced. 

“Easy.” Steve soothed. “You know who I am, right?”

Eddie snorted. Sir Stephan’s face was plastered across a shitload of banners all over the kingdom. You couldn’t go anywhere without knowing who the Queen’s Champion was, and Robin was nearly just as famous.

“Yes.” He grit out. 

“Then you know that while I myself don’t have any kind of magic or power, I am tied directly into the Kingdom’s power.” 

In an impressive display of athleticism, Steve maneuvered himself up into a proper kneel, hands still tied behind his back with softly glowing ropes. 

He looked up at Eddie through thick lashes, expression earnest. “If you want, I will tap into it to make you an unbreakable oath. That way I can’t betray you.” 

Stunned into stillness, Eddie stared at him, before his eyes swept to his companion, trying to check if this was some kind of trick or trap or--something else he was too stupid to catch.

Instead of an answer, Robin looked just as shocked as Eddie, her jaw dropping.

“Dingus, you can’t be serious,” She protested, while Eddie finally found his voice to choke out;

“Why would you do that?”

“Because we’re the good guys,” Steve replied, with a smile so bright it could probably power the sun. “and the good guys help people.” 

That was said a little oddly--like he was quoting someone who’d said it many, many times before. 

Eddie opened his mouth, struggling to form the words. 

“How,” he started, his voice cracking on the word. He paused, biting his lip before finally gathering the strength to ask, “How do you know I’m not just lying to you?”

“You?” Steve echoed, the word practically a challenge, but he was still looking up at Eddie through those damn eyelashes, his expression calm, like they'd known each other for a hundred years and would know each other for a hundred more. “No way.” 

They stared at each other for a long, drawn out moment. Eddie didn’t know what Robin was doing, didn’t have room in his brain to even recall her presence in the room. It felt like he and Steve were connected, his entire life was teetering and this moment would decide the outcome. 

Steve had been right. Eddie did have trust issues. Big ones, and this entire situation had only made them worse, but somehow, in that moment, he felt like he could do the impossible.

He could trust Steve.

“Okay.” He said quietly, all his bluster and wild hand movements gone. 

Steve beamed at him.

“Kneel down in front of me.” The knight instructed, and as if drawn by an invisible thread, Eddie did so, dropping down so his face was level with Steve’s. 

“Come closer.” Steve ordered, and waited as Eddie shuffled, closer and closer, until they were barely a breaths width apart, so close he could see the streaks of gold in Steve’s warm, brown eyes. 

“I,” Steve started, in a voice that was both powerful and intimate, “Sir Stephan, Knight Commander of the Kingdom of Light, Queen’s Champion and head of House Harrington, call upon the bonds that make me and that I have made in turn, to hereby swear to you,”

He paused, waiting, and it took Eddie a moment to realize he had never given the man his name.

“Edward Munson, of Town Hawkins.” He muttered, bespelled entirely by the warmth in Steve's eyes. 

“Edward Munson, Bard of Town Hawkins,” Steve said, and oh, what the addition of the word ‘bard.’ did to Eddie’s stomach. The flips it made when he realized just how well Steve was continuing to read him, better than anyone else in his life ever had.

(It made him feel insane.)

“that I will aid in clearing your name, restoring your reputation, and ensuring your safe return to the life you were meant to live.” 

Something built up between them, humming with the buzz of magic. The weight felt tangible, the threads growing thick tying Eddie and Steve together.

“By the powers that be.” Steve whispered, leaning ever so slightly forward, eyelashes lowering. 

Eddie repeated the last line back to Steve, guided by the nudging insistence of the magic that circled them. 

For a second the oath become visible, strings of bright yellow magic surging about, and Eddie was almost drawn to look at it, had he not been distracted by Steve closing the distance between them.

“Wha--” Eddie started to ask, only for Steve to draw the word into his own mouth, sealing their oath with a kiss. 

In the songs Eddie sung, the world exploded when one experienced true love's kiss. Birds sang, and people cheered, fireworks rose to explode in the air. 

This kiss was nothing like that.

This kiss felt like coming home. 

Steve ended it as chastly as he started it, pulling back to smile at him. “And there you have it. One sworn Knight Commander, duty bound to clear your good name.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie said, blinking rapidly, trying to come back into himself, trying not to look as dazed as he felt. “Right. My uh, name.” 

Steve beamed at him. Tentatively, Eddie smiled back, and if a moment could be warm then this one was the warmest thing Eddie had ever experienced, like a gentle blanket being draped across them both.

It was ruined entirely by the forced coughing that started up next to them. 

“If you two are done now, my arms are going numb.” Robin announced, making Eddie jerk back and Steve roll his eyes. 

“Sorry.” Eddie said automatically, face going red for the third time that day. “I’ll uh. I’ll do that now.”

In his mad scramble to get to his feet and hide how aroused he was, Eddie missed the smug look Steve gave Robin.

In his attempts at removing the spelled ropes from her wrists, he equally missed the sarcastically mouthed ‘Slut.’ Robin aimed back at him. 

He did, however, somehow understand that Robin came with Steve, and that he had just damned himself to their bantering.

Weirdly, it made him feel better instead of worse.

xXx

 “So out of curiosity, what name did you give yourself?” Steve asked a handful of hours later, as the three of them began their trek to Castle Hoosier.

Eddie frowned at him. “Name?”

“You know.” Steve nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s playfully, like they were buddies. “Your evil wizard name, or whatever.”

“I never said I was a wizard, Steve.” 

“You cannot tell me someone as dramatic as yourself didn’t immediately decide to change your name to something ridiculous.” The knight challenged, and Eddie hated how easily the guy had clocked him. “I bet it has evil in the title. Or Mean. Or--” 

“It was Dread Lord Munson.”  Robin interrupted. 

With a grin so wide it overtook her entire face, she turned a little leatherbound notebook to face Steve. There, in Eddie’s spidery scrawl, was the offending name taking up half the page. 

“Where did you get that!?” Eddie squawked, lunging for the book. Robin, in a show of skill he wouldn’t have thought her capable of, tossed it right over his head, into the waiting hands of Steve. 

Eddie spun, cursing wildly as Steve took a look at his personal (!) writings. 

(He hadn't even seen her grab it, dammit!)

He ducked out of the way once, then twice, laughing the entire time, before closing the book with a snap and holding it out to Eddie. 

“Come on, Dork Lord, let’s go get your name cleared.” He said, a fond grin on his face. 

“I hate you. Both of you.” Eddie whined, a blush dusting his cheeks as he snatched his book back, but followed Steve anyway. 

He had the worst feeling he was going to be doing that for a while, now. Even if his name got cleared.

Fucking knights.

Bonus:

“We both know that binding ritual does not involve a kiss, Steve.” Robin said, some time later, quiet enough for only her friend to hear. 

“Ah, shut up Robs. Let me have my fun.” Steve said. “Besides, it sets the tone. Now that he knows what kissing me is like, it's all he’s gonna be thinking about.” 

“Pretty sure all he’s thinking about is clearing his name, Dingus.”

“Okay, yeah.” Steve stressed the word, “but after we clear it? That little scatterbrained bard is gonna be fully focused on me.” He flicked a finger at his own chest, and gave what he thought was his best winning smile. 

Robin made gagging noises.

In retaliation. Steve tried to push her off her horse. 

[oizysian]

03 // Being forced to kneel // Little Wolf

Summary: Lady Maximoff deals with an intruder.

Pairing: Vampire!Scarlet Witch x Werewolf!Y/N

Warnings: submission, slight bondage

Word count: 800

Kinktober masterlist

“Mistress, we found this beast outside on the castle grounds.”

In chains was a werewolf, snapping and snarling at the guards that had captured it. They had chains around its neck, arms, and even its legs. How it managed to walk was beyond the Queen. She watched as they dragged it over to her, watching as it struggled every step of the way. She tilted her head, smiling as it flung one of her guards into a wall and two others had to jump in to subdue it.

“Kneel before your Queen.”

It snarled at her in response. Her dark eyes narrowed at it, her perfectly manicured nails clicked on the armrest of her throne impatiently, her silver rings gleaming.

“I said ‘kneel!’” She snapped and the guard on her left kicked the wolf in the back of the leg, causing it to lose its balance and fall down on one knee.

“That’s how I like my prisoners.” She smiled widely and gestured to the guard holding the chain around the creature's neck to pull.

It let out a growl, falling down on both knees and attempted to free itself from its bindings.

She raised her hand once more and the guard let up on the pressure, and it began to calm down.

“I don’t want to look at this … beast anymore. Change. I want to see who was brave enough to trespass on my grounds.”

The beast panted heavily, staring her down, before bowing its head and letting out a loud sigh. Before her eyes, the giant wolf turned into a normal sized woman, who was shaking with emotion.

“What a surprise. I expected it to be another man coming to kill me. Or force me full of his seed.”

At her words, the woman looked up, disgusted at the thought. No, she hadn’t been here to harm the Queen. On the contrary, she wanted to serve her. But these fool guards had captured her and ruined everything.

“What do you want?” She finally asked, looking into the tortured eyes of the wolf-woman.

“To serve.” Her voice was hoarse with misuse.

The Queen looked down at her prisoner, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“And what makes you think you can serve me?”

“I’m strong,” she huffed. “And I’m loyal.”

“Bring her here.” The guards dragged the naked woman to the throne, handing the Queen the chains that were wrapped around the prisoners neck. “Remove those chains.”

They followed orders, freeing her arms and legs, leaving only the chain around her neck in place.

“Leave us.” She directed towards the guards and they all hesitated a moment before backing up and leaving the throne room.

She pulled on the chain and the woman fell to her knees at her feet, head bowed.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” The wolf replied.

“A beautiful name.” She hummed.

“Lady Maximoff, please let me serve you. I’ll do anything -”

“Anything?” She questioned and the other woman nodded curtly. “Come here.” She beckoned and the wolf obeyed, crawling up to the foot of her throne, head still bowed. “Lift my skirts.”

She raised her head, eyes wide with confusion, but obeyed nevertheless, lifting up the Queens skirts and holding them up, waiting for her next command.

“Lick my pussy. Make a meal out of it.”

The wolf was unsure of the Queen’s intentions, so she stayed still at her feet, still holding up her skirts.

“I know you’re not dumb.” She said, tugging on the chain. “Go on.”

She hesitated, licking her lips before crawling up the throne and settling between the Queen's legs, letting the skirts fall down behind her. Eager to please, she kissed her inner thighs, licking and nipping at her before pressing opened mouthed kisses along her slit. She could hear the Queen moaning as her tongue explored her cunt, dipping inside her and swirling around her throbbing clit.

She could feel the Queen’s hand pushing her head down through her skirts, urging her on.

“Oh, yes,” the Queen whispered, her hips rocking up to meet the girl’s tongue. “You’ll do.”

Y/N hummed against her, lapping at her wetness greedily, happy to be pleasing her. She gripped at her thighs, holding her still as she began to tremble underneath her hands.

“Fuck yes, little wolf, I’m gonna cum.”

Her words fueled her inner fire, her own slick coating her inner thighs as she brought the Queen to release. The Queen pulled up her skirts, releasing the wolf and letting her crawl out from underneath them.

“I think I’ll be keeping you.” The Queen breathed, smiling to herself, tugging the chain around her neck so she got closer to her.

Y/N climbed up onto her lap and Lady Maximoff kissed her, tasting herself on her lips.

“Oh, yes, I’ll be keeping you.”

[saturnscafe]

a male lion hybrid with female reader having hot sex time.

͙˚ ༘✶My King | Lion Hybrid

Funny enough I wrote something similar on my main- ha mane.. cause he’s a lion- ha.. alright here’s the writing lol.

Smut Below

Your boss was a very handsome man. Everyone swooned over him. His lush locks, those piercing eyes and the confidence he had? All put together with one of the most beautiful smiles anyone could have.

So seeing him at the bar while you were out for a girls night was a bit of a shocker? The man seemed to live at his office but there he was. In all his handsomeness. Sat at the bar taking back shots as he stared in your direction.

“Isn’t that your hot boss?” One of your friends asked. You rolled your eyes nodding. “He’s staring over here. Ooh maybe he wants you” she teased.

“Oh shut up” you said slapping her gently.

You had made your way up to the bar to grab a few more drinks for your friends and you. Of course they made you do it so you had to go near him. When you approached the lingering gaze he had fixated on you had you stammering over your words as you ordered. “Y/n right?” He asked. Your whole body just froze up hearing his voice.

“Uhm yeah. How are you sir?” You asked politely.

“Better now that you’re here” he said almost cringing at his own words. “Let me buy you a drink?” He asked flashing that toothy smile. You could feel your heart pounding, it felt like it was louder than the music.

“Sure, thank you.” You smiled.

One drink turned into another, and another until he had brought you to the floor. He had your body pressed against his as you both swayed to the music. His hands resting on your hips only pulling them back further into him. His head rested in the crook of your neck his hot breath fanning at it. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or him but your body felt hot. He left a soft kiss to the nape of your neck before moving closer to your ear.

“Come with me?” He asked almost sounding like a plea. You only could nod taking his hand as he weaved you both through the crowd. He looked around for a moment before pulling you into one of the bathrooms. As he pulled you his strong arms pulled you into a passionate kiss. It was messy. Teeth hitting, tongues twirling and the sounds. The sounds that left him were enough to make bring anyone to their knees.

His arms came around your body hoisting you up, he wrapped your legs around him as he made out with you. He sat your plush ass down on the sink before letting his hands roam your body. Everything was happening so fast but you didn’t care. Who in their right mind would turn him down?

His hand traveled down your dress pushing it up slightly. He was trying to get your panties down but it was taking long for him. He tore the crotch open before pushing his fingers into you. “Fuck- already such a mess” he groaned. His thick fingers pumped in and out of you. Your head falling back against the mirror behind you. “You know how much I’ve wanted this- ever since you started my thoughts are always clouded by you. Always waltzing around with this perfect body.” He rambled.

His hand continued, moving faster as his fingers curled inside you. “Always pictured you bent over my desk or underneath of it sucking me off- fuck- do you realize how much you drive me crazy?”

“I- ah- no-“ you mustered up.

“Let me show you then” he said pulling his pants down to reveal his massive thick cock. “You know how- hard it is to walk around like this.” He said those piercing eyes fixated on you now.

You could only moan in response feeling your orgasm rabidly approaching. “Gonna cum for me already? Fuck what a little slut you are” he grinned. His thumb found your sensitive nub rubbing it perfectly like he knew your body already. “Cum for me. Cum for your king” he growled. Your head flung back, cumming hard around his fingers. Your body shook but he didn’t stop. No. His pace only quickened. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty cunt?”

“Yes- please- please fuck me-“ you whined. He grabbed your body flipping you around. He didn’t give warning before pushing into your warm wet walls. His fingers that were coated in your slick found their way to his mouth. Licking them clean before wrapping around your throat. His little ears twitched at the sounds of your gargled moans.

“Fuck- that’s it- gonna be my little slut from now on. Gonna make you my assistant so I can fuck you whenever I want.” He groaned. He was fucking into you fast. His thrusts were deep his cock head kissing your cervix. His hand tilted your head up pulling it back a bit “look at you. A mess on your bosses cock.” He said making you look at yourself in the mirror. “Look at those perfect tits bounce- fuck your so damn beautiful”

Your head felt floaty, body too full of pleasure to comprehend anything now. “You’re mine from here on out got it? Every kind needs their beautiful queen.” He stated his body moving closer to yours. He peppered small kisses to your shoulder as his hand left your throat. Finding a new spot between your legs where he toyed with your clit once again. “Say it. I wanna hear you say it!” He ordered.

“I’m your queen- I’m- ah- I’m all yours” you cried out. Your hands gripped the sink another strong orgasm ready to wash over you.

“Yeah- fuck- ah you’re all mine. All mine and I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you away” he growled. His thrusts were becoming sloppy his high approaching just as fast as yours was. “Cum on my cock, fucking make a mess on your king.” And with that the damn broke. Your orgasm flooded from you stronger than before. Your whole body shook his strong arms wrapping around you once more. He pushed as deep as he could before you felt his cock twitch inside you. The warmth filling you full of everything he had. His head fell to your back both panting trying to catch your breath.

“How about I take you to my place? I’ll make us a snack and we could have a round two.” He grinned. You nodded and as you walked out, you could see your friends flashing you a smile. Knowing full well what had just happened.

[thewritetofreespeech]

tags: targaryen incest [aemond/younger sister Daeron twin], fingering, masterbation, pinning (equal pinning)

-------------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

Aemond stalked back to his chamber. Still fuming from his talk with Helaena.

How dare she speak to him that way?! How could she not want vengeance after what Daemon did to her son?! How could she sit ideally while every day their doom crept closer and closer to their door?!

His eye set on the maps & plans on spread over one the tables and he flung them off with one swift swing of his arm. “Useless!” It was all useless now!

Aemond’s hands braced against the wood. Staring into the grain as if a scrying pool. Looking for answers. In truth, he was heartbroken. He knew his death was coming for him, one way or another, but to have his sister turn her back on him when they needed her most, when he needed her most, broke him.

“Brother,” Aemond turned to look at the door as his other, younger sister peaked her head in, “are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” He told her. Standing at his full height again, even as his little sister invited herself in and looked up at him. Those big, pale violets staring up at him until he eventually cracked and told her the truth. “No. It’s all gone horribly wrong. The Pretender has let the dragonseeds claim her remaining dragons. We are outnumbered. And Helaena won’t take Dreamfyre into battle.”

“Oh….” That was all his sister said at first. Seeming to process this information. “You asked Helaena and not me?”

Aemond looked at her in surprise from her comment. “Your dragon is too young. Six times younger that Dreamfyre, and just taken to wing.”

“She’s been to wing longer than Dareon’s dragon.” She snapped back at him. “And you asked him to fight!”

“Mandia,” Aemond replied in a soothing manner as he cupped his sister’s cheek, “Dareon is a young man now. It is reasonable for him to fight for his house.”

“But not women?”

“In most cases no. Women’s duties are suited to other aspects in war.”

“Yet you still asked Helaena?”

Aemond growled and pulled his hand away. Annoyed he’d been so easily circled into a corner by his own logic and irritating little sister. “I wished to spare you.”

“I do not wish to be spared.” She insisted. Her hands reaching out for Aemond’s larger one. “I wish to fight for our family too. To keep us safe. To keep you safe.” She let his hand go and dejectedly looked down at the ground. “Yet you still choose Helaena over me….”

The hand she had been holding lashed out towards his sister to pull her in close. His lips claiming hers like they had many times before. “I would never choose Helaena over you.” Aemond told her.

True, there had been a time when he had wanted his older sister for himself. Her uniqueness and sweet light was wasted on their eldest brother, as well as her common beauty. Aemond loved her, as a sister and then as more, but it was never reciprocated.

With his younger sister, it was different. She loved him. Unconditionally. She had been away with Dareon in Oldtown since a young age. The twins to be in service of his mother’s family for a time away from the capital. When she had flourished into a beautiful young woman, she returned while Dareon stayed to train as squire for Lord Hightower. All his mother’s plan to find her a suitable match from court. To strength their claim & allies for Aegon, but also set her youngest daughter up beautifully in the Realm.

What his sister had found instead was Aemond’s open, waiting arms.

“I need Dreamfyre. That’s the only reason I went to her.” He assured her. “She should fight.”

“Helaena doesn’t have it in her though.” His sister urged. Speaking the truth. “I do. Let me come with you.”

“Is that what you truly want?” He asked. Aemond pulling her close by her hip. Letting her feel, even through his leathers, how thrilled he was that she wished to be by his side. No longer rejected. Openly adored. “To come with me to crush the Pretender and their brood.”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded soft. Entranced, even. “Let me come with you. Let me be your Visenya. Your Rhaenys.”

Aemond swooped down to capture her lips again at her words. In the months since she had returned, that was all he wanted. They talked of secret plans to flee like his grandsires, and wed in secret, should his mother betroth her to another. Their bond not a chore like his brother made it seem with Helaena, but one of true love. Like their forbearers before them.

“Sit up for me.”

The princess obediently hopped up on the edge of the table. Reaching for him, even as Aemond came to her to stand between her knees. “I want to keep you safe. That’s what all this is for.” His hands slid up her skirts. Thin and pliable, as it was the middle of the night, they bunch up around her hips easily. “To keep us all safe. To build our future.” His beloved sister sighed as his hand reached between her legs. Her soft opening there, wet with desire. “Dareon will be with me soon. Do you trust your twin?”

“Yes.” His sister hissed as his fingers spread her open. “But I want to come too. Let me…Let me come with you.” Her voice stammered as his thumb brushed over her nub at the word ‘come’. His fingers continued to play with her until no words were spoken. Just his sister’s needy pants as she clung to him. And a desperate plea now & then of, “take me.”

Aemond wished that he could. Just spread her legs that much further and spear her open on the table where all his plans had been. But he couldn’t. She was still young. Her bloom only just coming upon her. And he would not sully his good sister by claiming her like a whore for his own amusement.

When he bed her, and he would soon, they would be married. She would be his wife. She would be their Queen. And all this, this work, this heartbreak, this rejection, would all be worth it.

His fingers continued to thrust into her with quick succession until her walls quivered around him in release. Aemond drew them out and licked them clean. The taste just as sweet as her disposition. “You should get back to your chambers. Before someone comes looking for you.”

“Will you take me with your to Harrenhall?” She asked again. Clinging to him.

It takes every bit of Aemond’s restraint to just sigh in the face of those bright eyes and tell her, “I will think on it.” Denying her harder than anything he had had to do in recent months.

His sister just smiled and gave him a kiss. She hopped down off the table, righted her skirts, and saw herself out. Aemond watched her go and waited until the coast was clear before opening his breeches to relieve himself across the table. Imagining her still there, under him, and his seed spilling into her instead off across the rich mahogany.

Relieved but not sated, Aemond took himself to bed for the evening. He needed his rest. There would not be many more moments for it soon. As he laid in his bed, he thought of Harrenhall. What would be waiting for him there, and what he might find.

If his death was truly waiting for him, like Helaena predicted, then he couldn’t bring their sister. Subject her to that. She would have to wait for him, and she would pout, but as long as he didn’t have to see it he could remain strong.

[realmrszurzolo]

ron invites you to the burrow 𝜗𝜚

a/n: this is my first time actually writing/posting one of these so pls bare with me 😭 i like to think i’m not a bad writer but pls lmk if there are any grammar or punctuation errors 🤗😚 also i’m not british so there might be some mistakes or hiccups in the way they talk! again, i apologize 😓

warnings (??) — bf!ron, hufflepuff!reader, fem!reader, pure fluff ♥︎

you and ron had been together for a few months now, and everything was as perfect as could be. you went to his quidditch games, you both bonded over your love for food, and he gave the best hugs imaginable.

he had been unsure if it was a good idea to take you to meet molly and the rest of his family, especially after the way she had reacted to fleur. but after much back and forth and asking fred, george, and ginny, he decided on it.

“just….beware. they can get crazy sometimes,” he cautioned, his chest rising in an oddly deep breath before raising his fist to knock.

the snow had really piled up, you thought, as your scarf barely helped your face warm. your mittens intertwined as best they could with ron’s, his hat matching the cloth on your hands.

“don’t worry, ron, im sure i’ll be alright,” you smiled, squeezing his hand as you stared at the closed door waiting to open.

the door quickly flung open, revealing a beaming molly behind it. she immediately rushed over to hug ron tightly, mumbling a bunch of greetings. ron glanced at you from his mom’s hug, eyes wide in a ‘help.’

you giggled, running your thumb up his hand reassuringly.

molly pulled away, fixing up his now messy orange locks before looking to his left. molly’s jaw dropped, mirroring the way she pounced on ron, but somehow more aggressive to you.

“oh, you must be y/n,” she cooed, rocking you left and right as she squeezed the living daylights out of you.

“well, come on in, then!” she motioned for you two to follow her inside, you and ron side eyeing each other.

“sorry,” he whispered, swallowing thickly before following his mum inside the warm home.

“are you kidding? i love her already.”

once molly had rushed you two inside, arthur greeted you with a firm handshake and a smile. “my darling,” molly began, pouring you each a warm cup of tea. “you are twice as beautiful as ron makes you out to be,”

you smiled, giggling as you glanced at your boyfriend. his face reddened immediately.

“does ron talk about me a lot?” you ask curiously, lifting the mug to your lips. the warm steam cooled your pink nose. the fire crackled, fred and george conversing as they heated their sock-enclothed feet.

“oh, you have no idea,” molly began, ron buried his face in his palms. arthur chuckled, taking a long sip of tea. “but enough about him. tell me about yourself, dear,” she invited, motioning for ron’s dad to get out the biscuits.

“well, i’m a hufflepuff, i’m a prefect, head girl, and i have outstandings in all of my classes,” you told her, feeling a bit tense at the mention of your house. you knew how much the weasleys valued being a gryffindor, and the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint them.

molly and arthur exchanged glances, and you swore you could’ve screamed and ran away right that moment. you tapped on your mug, looking at ron before down at your lap.

“ronald, you break this girl’s heart and you’re out of the house,” molly raised her pointer finger at him, causing a fit of comfortable laughter to fill the silence of the room.

“she really is an angel, mum. she tutors 1st years,”he added, making you smile shyly as you hid your face in the mug.

molly gasped, holding her hand over her heart. “well, my dear, i am beyond delighted that you are taking care of my ronald. just let me know if he becomes a handful. i’ll be more than happy to send a howler his way,” she warned, shooting ron a stern glance.

just as quickly as your worries came, they disappeared. molly loved you, arthur loved you, and you had not a doubt in your mind that ron did, too.

——————————————————————————

a/n pt 2: this was so fun to make!! i’m on a 5 day break so i’ll be writing some stuff, pls pls pls pls PLEASEEE lmk if you want to see anything or have any questions at all!! 😚😚

[sweetiecakesss]

Hiiiii! I'm the same anon that requested the student council president Dr Ratio, and after reading that I need to have more. So what about Student council president reader x troublemaker Kafka where Kafka corrupts reader by fucking her?

I didn't know how to write this without making it seem like the Veritas Ratio one so I just went ahead with like headcanons and scenarios ;((

Troublemaker | Kafka (18+)

��⋆✦⋆⋇ Synopsis: Abuse of power against the weak.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Tags: Kafka, Fingering, WLW, Reader is AFAB, Corruption, Non-Con, Kafka takes advantage of her abilities on reader, Kafka is hot.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇Note: Look at the end of tags-- hihihihihihi--

Troublemaker! Kafka who just got enrolled into your school and now everyone is bowing down to her feet due to her beauty.

Troublemaker! Kafka who you think is so pretty but as soon as she opens her mouth, she immediately got under your nerves. Causing you to hate her.

Troublemaker! Kafka who despite knowing your hatred for her, she can't help but continue to approach you.

"Come on, little flower…You can't simple be mad at me forever, right?" She let out with that oh so hypnotizing sultry voice of her, something about it just makes you want to look at her but you decided to not falter.

Troublemaker! Kafka who got tired of your constant avoidance that she took the matter into her own hands.

You sat on your chair, important documents scattered all over your desk as your gaze roamed all over them. Too focused, you were then suddenly startled as the door flung open, revealing Kafka -- who stood there with her brows furrowed before she then closed the door locking it. "What are you doing here? You can't be here." You let to which she replied with a chuckle. "Oh Darling, Don't be so harsh…am just here…" SHe paused as she approached you, staring at you. Her eyes glowing a bright hue of pink and purple, You sat there as you stared back. Your senses gradually dissipated as you looked at her who smiled at you. "Am just here to have a little treat…" She let out before you then blacked out, losing control of yourself before you sat limp on your chair.

Troublemaker! Kafka who used her Spirit Whisper on you in order to get you to fully take control of your entire being.

Troublemaker! Kafka who wakes you up from your slumber by eating you out, tongue slobbering down on your pussy as she sucked on the little nub.

Opening your eyes, your hands instantly reached down and met Kafka's head in between your legs. Looking down, Kafka's gaze met yours as she continued to eat you out, your hand gripping onto her head and pulling onto her hair as you threw your head back.

Troublemaker! Kafka who procedeed to fuck her gloved finger in you after eating you out, kissing you as you tasted your arousal on her lips.

Troublemaker! Kafka who gave you the pleasure that not even yourself could give.

Troublemaker! Kafka who praised you and called you sweet endearments as she rubbed your pussy while peppering your face with small kisses.

Troublemaker! Kafka who made you cum, your legs shaking as your little hands tightly held onto the collar of her unidorm, wrinkling it.

Troublemaker! Kafka who wasn't content from that one encounter, so she has to use her spirit whisper on you again; turning you into a change person that wants nothing but to feel her hands all over your body, turning you into her little slut <3

[tanjamikaelson]

UNSPOKEN CONFESSION | Rafe Cameron x fem!reader |

This basically happened in my dream, I just changed and added some things so that it would make more sense 😂 and I think this was happening in season 1 (based on Rafe’s hair and outfit), and there was no Kook vs Pogue rivalry.

Summary: You and Rafe were good friends and you got jealous when you saw him staring at Sofia. Warnings: none except a little bit of jealousy.

The summer air was thick with the scent of salt and freedom, mingling with the melodies from the live band playing at the open-air festival in the Outer Banks. The sun had just begun to dip, painting the sky in deep purples and pinks, a beautiful backdrop for a night meant for good vibes and unforgettable memories. You were sprawled on the lush, slightly prickly grass with your group, a drink in your hand and laughter spilling around you. Topper and Kelce joked loudly, their voices blending with the music, but despite the carefree atmosphere, your focus was somewhere else.

Rafe. His name sounded like a melody you couldn’t get out of your head. He sat just a few feet away, close enough that the edge of his laughter touched your heart. The sun highlighted the sharp line of his jaw and the mischievous spark in his blue eyes. But today, those eyes kept drifting elsewhere, landing not on you, but on Sofia, who danced freely to the music, the hem of her dress swishing with every beat.

You watched as Rafe’s gaze lingered on her, a look so palpable it made your stomach twist with jealousy. Sofia was radiant, laughter bubbling up as she moved, and you knew all too well why people kept nudging Rafe to make his move. You’d heard it from Kelce and Topper too, that maybe he had a chance, that maybe she liked him back. And it stung because he didn’t see you like that. Nobody knew you harbored feelings for Rafe—buried and locked up inside, where they festered quietly.

Kelce jabbed Rafe with a teasing elbow. “Bro, you’ve gotta do something about that staring problem,” he laughed. Everyone laughed with him, and Rafe smirked, looking almost bashful. Your face burned, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your expression neutral. The jealousy coiled in your chest like a snake, hissing every time he looked Sofia’s way.

Unable to take the heat prickling your skin, you made up an excuse about needing a drink. As you approached the vendor, the crowd thickened, and you wove through people, clutching your cup of cold soda. But just as you thought you’d found a gap, someone rammed into you. The impact sent your drink flying, the icy liquid splattering all over your clothes.

“Oh my god!” you shouted, voice laced with irritation. “Watch where you’re going!” You stared, mouth agape, as the culprit and his friends doubled over in laughter. They mocked you, pointing at your soaking wet outfit, and anger flared hot behind your eyes.

“Fuck you,” you spat, the words bursting out before you could rein them in. You flung the remainder of your drink at them, your heart pounding. “I’ve had enough of shit happening tonight!” The laughter rang in your ears as you stormed off, feeling the sticky chill of soda seep through your clothes.

You didn’t make it far before you heard your friends calling out to you. But it wasn’t Kelce or Topper who pursued you—it was Rafe. His footsteps were heavy against the grass, and you cursed under your breath, wishing desperately to be alone.

“Hey,” he called, voice softer than you expected. When you didn’t stop, he jogged to catch up, falling in step behind you. “Want me to beat the shit out of them?” he asked, and you could hear the protective edge in his voice.

You halted, not trusting yourself to face him, and answered tersely. “No, it’s fine.” Your emotions were a storm barely contained, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back.

“Look, I know you and—” Rafe began, and something in you snapped.

You laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “You know me?” you echoed, spinning around to meet his eyes. There was a desperation simmering beneath your words, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel. “If you knew me, Rafe, you’d know how much I hate when you’re staring at Sofia.”

His eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Staring at Sofia? Why are you bothered by that?” He seemed genuinely puzzled, and it was maddening.

You stared at him, unsure if he was clueless or pretending to be. Either way, it hurt. “It doesn’t matter,” you said, forcing a flippant tone. You turned to leave again, but he grabbed your wrist, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes, it does matter,” he insisted, stepping closer. “Tell me why.”

The frustration spilled over, words tumbling out in a rush. “Because I like you, Rafe,” you blurted, voice trembling. “There, I said it.” The confession hung in the air, raw and exposed. You hadn’t planned to say it, hadn’t wanted to, but the truth tasted bittersweet on your tongue.

Rafe’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared, stunned. Then he closed the distance, moving with a purpose that made your pulse race. “You like me?” he asked, almost disbelieving. “Since when?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling suddenly small. “Since I’ve known you,” you admitted, barely more than a whisper. Your heart ached with the fear of rejection.

He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, your shoulders pressing against the rough surface of a wall. His blue eyes searched yours, and then his lips curved into a soft smile. “I didn’t know,” he said, the sincerity in his voice cutting through your defenses.

“Yeah, obviously,” you replied, a bitter edge to your words. “No one knows, and I wanted to keep it that way. But tonight, seeing you look at her... I just couldn’t take it.”

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed or regretful. Rafe’s hand came up to cup your jaw, and before you could utter another word, he kissed you. His lips were warm and demanding, a rush of electricity that made your knees go weak. Your surprise melted into the kiss, your hands clutching at his shirt.

When you finally pulled back for air, your voice wavered. “What are you doing?” you whispered.

Rafe’s breath mingled with yours as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I like you too,” he confessed, eyes shining. “I thought you liked me as just a friend, so I tried to like Sofia. But it never felt right. I thought I didn’t have a chance with you.”

A laugh, soft and almost incredulous, bubbled out of you. “Really?”

He grinned, his boyish charm making your heart flutter. “Yeah, really.” He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering. “Kiss me,” he whispered, a plea you couldn’t ignore.

This time, you closed the gap, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands explored the curve of your back. He pulled you close, his touch igniting a fire that warmed you from the inside out. You broke the kiss, gasping when his hands gripped your waist, his touch so sure, so possessive.

“Is this what you needed to get rid of that bad mood?” he teased, voice husky.

You nipped at his bottom lip, a boldness overtaking you. “I want to get out of here,” you murmured.

Rafe's eyes darkened, and he laced his fingers with yours. “Yeah, let’s go.” With a grin that made your heart skip, he pulled you into the night, and for the first time that evening, you felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

A/N: I think what resulted in me having a dream like this was that I had been thinking about a festival that I want to go to next summer and it brought back memories from a few years back when I was there with my friends(and I liked one or two of them 🤣) and we would dance and sit on a grass just enjoying the music. I really miss raving like that, those were the best years of my life, but we’re not friends anymore and I haven't been at the rave in 2 years.😫

[ashwhowrites]

Hello, I love your stories and I hope you can make my fun request

Can you do Eddie Munson x Death fem reader

So hear me out let's say there in the upside down (11 and everyone isn't in California there in Hawkins and in the upside down with them and while they where chilling out in the upside down when Steve got hurt all of the sudden they heard whistling and turned and see a badass fem reader and walked up to 11 and starts toying with her (just like the wolf from puss and boots yk Death and when they figured out she's actually death they somehow get her a change of heart (after she tried to kill 11 and showed off her power a bit) and her and Eddie fall in love or Eddie falls first.

Sorry if it’s long

This was actually so fun and I loved writing the Death character. So if anyone else loves it, feel free to request ( once they are open ) for more death reader. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Death was inspired by Rio from Agatha all along, won't lie. But the Death character is NOT Rio. If that makes sense. Just don't think Aubrey plaza is the reader because she's not, just was an inspiration so I wanted to give the credit to that.

Lady Death

"I FUCKING hate these bats," Steve growled. Nancy sat on her knees as she tried to cover Steve's wounds.

"What the hell is this place?" Eddie asked once he caught his breath. All he knew was that he jumped off a boat and was in a hell pit.

"The upside down," El said. She was looking around, almost like she felt the presence of something no one had seen yet.

"Oh great, so I have to fight to survive in the normal world, and now I have to survive in this sewer-type place? And this girl has powers?" Eddie asked frantically. He knew somewhat of everything that was going on, he just didn't believe it was a real place.

"Dude, I've already told you all of this!" Dustin argued.

"No offense, kid. But I figured you were full of shit!'" Eddie spat.

"Guys! Quiet," El demanded. Everyone went silent as they looked at her. She closed her eyes, trying to feel what was wrong. "There's something here," she whispered.

"Yeah, flesh-eating bats!" Steve hissed.

Before anyone could say anything, El was flung across the ground.

"EL!" Mike shouted, running over to her. But before he could come in contact with her, she was evaluated into the air. The gang watched in horror as she seemed to be held up by her throat, by an invisible force.

"What's going on?" Robin panicked. Nancy worked faster to clean up Steve.

The sound of someone whistling filled their ears. The gang all turned to see a woman walking towards them. She was dressed in a skin-tight green bodysuit, holes on the sides that showed skin, a green crown on her head, and a dangerous smirk playing on her lips.

Everyone stared at her in fear and awe. She was incredibly beautiful, but nothing alive behind her eyes.

"Poor little El, not so strong anymore, huh?" The lady mocked, she flicked her wrist and El fell to the floor. Mike raced over to her, this time able to collect her body in his arms.

"Who are you?" El asked, panting as she took air into her lungs.

"She's Death," Eddie said in awe. Everyone looked at him shocked, how did he know who she was?

Even she was surprised. She was fast, appearing in front of Eddie in seconds as she gripped his neck. Eddie tried to cover up the fact that he was incredibly turned on by her harsh touch.

"Who are you?" she questioned, Eddie blushed under her studying eyes. She took in every inch of his face, something about him was familiar.

"Edward Munson," he choked out. The gang didn't move an inch, staring at the two.

"How do you know who I am?" She released his throat to allow him to speak. She flicked her wrist and everyone in the gang was thrown to the ground. They were stuck, not able to move a muscle.

Eddie was a little scared, looking at his friends and some people he barely knew trapped under her power.

"I've read about you. You collect souls, right? El was supposed to die from Vecna but she escaped. Unfinished business and now you have to finish her," Eddie explained, "am I right, Y/N?"

Y/N stepped away from the boy. She felt uneasy that he seemed to know everything. No one was supposed to know who she was until she took their soul, of course.

With her distracted, the gang ran over to El. El was quick to use her own powers, sending Y/N in the air and harshly crashing into the ground. Her head hit the ground with a thud and her body went still.

"LET'S GO!" Steve yelled, the gang nodded and all ran to make their escape. Eddie went to follow but when he took a look at Y/N's limp body on the floor, he stopped.

"Eddie, come on!" Dustin said, gesturing his hands to show that everyone was leaving.

"We can't just leave her," Eddie argued, against his better judgement he walked towards her.

"You said it yourself, she's Death. I think she's capable of handling a bump on the head," Mike sassed. He was annoyed that Eddie seemed to care about a stranger that was more than willing to kill El.

Eddie ignored Mike's words, kneeling down as he rolled her body over. There was a gash on her head, blood running down the side of her face. Eddie didn't have anything on him to help, but he ripped the end of his shirt and tied it around her head. He watched as his white shirt began to stain with her blood, but he didn't mind.

She couldn't die, he knew that. But he wouldn't feel right leaving her behind with no help at all.

~~~

It's been a few days since the encounter with Death, and she was in everyone's head ( just for different reasons.) El thought of her as a new enemy and most of the gang were terrified to know they were that close to Death.

But she was in Eddie's mind for a different reason. When he was younger he loved reading about death and what happened in the afterlife. He learned what death was, who death was. She's been around for centuries but never aged. Still the beautiful girl, who lost her soul too young.

Eddie often felt a connection to her. She didn't have a family, or any friends. People were scared of her, banished her, leaving her alone for years and years. She was like Eddie and Eddie was just like her. He was alone and banished in his own way, but they had much in common.

He couldn't leave her behind because he understood the pain of being alone. The pain of everyone running away, terrified. He wanted her to feel cared about for once.

Something about Eddie humanized her in a sense. She hadn't felt anything in her body since she died. She didn't feel emotions, her heart, not even her lungs. But when she was near him, touching and seeing him, she felt a beat in her chest. A flutter in her stomach.

Her body felt alive

She was able to trace where he lived from the property of his shirt. She carried the blood stained shirt in her hand as she walked through the woods, looking for his trailer park.

She felt that same beat in her chest as she walked past a small trailer. Random chairs in the front and an ash tray by the door. She walked away, the beat in her chest decreasing. With furrowed eyebrows, she walked backwards, the beat increased.

"Well look at that, having a heart is good for something," she scoffed, turning in the direction of the trailer.

She didn't knock, using her powers to fling the door right off the hinges.

Eddie was brushing his teeth when he heard his front door slam a wall.

"Shit!" He swore through his foamy mouth. He figured a big gust of wind blew through the door but when he came out, he saw Y/N standing in his house. His toothbrush hung from his mouth as he stared at her in shock.

"On-mf-e-sec-mff," he said through the foam. He turned and raced back in his bathroom to spit out the paste and rinse his mouth. He jumped when Y/N appeared behind him.

"Um, hi," Eddie said, staring at her reflection. She stood tall behind him, peaking over his shoulder. Her hair was down, framing her face. She was in her death clothes, the tight bodysuit making him gulp.

"You gave me this," she spoke bluntly. She held his shirt, hanging from her fingertips. He turned around and grabbed the shirt, tossing it to the floor.

"Thanks for bringing it back," he smiled. She flinched as she felt her heart race. But recovered with a smile.

"You're welcome," she said, turning around and walking out. Eddie followed, confusion on his face.

"Wait, where are you going?" He asked, moving to cut her off. Her body slammed against his and she stepped back. Her face stone cold.

"I dropped off the shirt. That's all that needed to be done," she said. Eddie frowned, thinking about how the only time she's in someone's presence is to kill them.

"Hey, you know you can be around people for fun, not just take their souls," the comment sounded like he was a dick but he was genuine about it. He closed the door and moved to his couch, patting the seat next to him.

She eyed him, moving cautiously and sitting next to him. "Well, thank you," she smiled. "And thank you for helping me."

"You don't have to thank me. I promise my friends are kind people, they just had to fight for their lives a few too many times," Eddie sadly laughed.

"You haven't?" She asked, Eddie could feel her eyes. He turned his head to look at her, trying not to get lost in her eyes.

"I have, I just understand how it feels to be the one that's left behind. I've studied you my whole life and you're not as scary as the books made you seem."

Y/N was in awe of the softness he showed and offered her. She couldn't remember when was the last time she got to be in someone's company.

"And by far more beautiful in person," he said, softer and quieter than before. Her heart fluttered and she felt her skin getting warm.

She felt shy, moving her head to hide away but his hand reached out. She jumped slightly at the feeling of his hand on her warm cheek. The eye contact felt intense, like she was in a trance and unable to look away. She didn't want to anyway, she wanted to stare at him all day long.

"You know, since you brought back my shirt. I think I owe you for your kindness," he whispered. Her stomach flipped as a small smile formed on his face. His perfect pink lips stretched as his white teeth were on display. She turned her head to the side, questioning him.

"You hungry?" He asked, "for food not souls." He clarified. She couldn't help but giggle at his words.

"I could eat," she smiled. He smiled back, standing up and grabbing her hand. He was prepared to go right out the door but then he stopped.

"Would you maybe feel more comfortable in..uh-" he stuttered, still feeling the effects of her suit clinging to her body and showing off her figure. "Comfier clothes?"

"What are the options?"

~

"Steve, if I hear you moan and bitch about the bats one more time, I will cut you myself," Robin threatened.

"I'd like a little support here! I could've died!" Steve argued. Nancy laughed to herself as the two began to argue. Jonathan had his arm thrown around her shoulder, looking down at the menu.

Eddie walked in, his hand in hers as he looked around for an open table. He was shocked to see Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan at a table.

Steve looked up and his eyes locked on Eddie, and then the girl next to him. Eddie gave him a small wave but turned the other direction, leading Y/N. They sat at a table, with her back to his friends.

Steve raced over to their table, he wanted to see if his eyes were seeing things. But as he made it to them, his eyes were right. Eddie was holding hands with Death.

"Can I talk to you?" Steve asked, his eyes on Eddie.

"One second," Eddie said, softly kissing her hand before he let go.

The two huddled over to the side, Steve whispering harshly.

"Are you insane?"

"She's still a person!" Eddie argued

"She's a killer, Eddie. You can't just get sucked into her looks. She's evil."

"She's not! It's a job. She doesn't kill randomly. She only goes when she's called. There's some human inside of her, I'm going to bring it out. She just needs someone to show her" Eddie explained.

"You are going to risk yourself and all your friends because you want to find the human in her?" Steve scoffed, "I don't believe there's any human in her," Steve looked over at the table. She sat drumming her fingers as she twirled a knife in the air with her powers.

Eddie sighed, knowing she wasn't helping his case.

Steve noticed a look in Eddie's eyes. He was desperate and he had this soft look when his eyes cast over her.

"You fell for her already, didn't you?" Steve chuckled. It was nice to see Eddie had a romantic side to him. Steve remembered the feeling of falling in love for the first time.

"Yes," Eddie sighed. "Which I know is crazy but trust me, she came to my house and do you know how easily she could have killed me if she wanted to?"

Steve sighed, he nodded his head. Sometimes he hated being a good friend.

"Well," he puffed, landing his hand on Eddie's shoulder, "Enjoy your date. And the gang will need to hear all about it."

The hand that was on Eddie's shoulder was suddenly ripped off. Steve cried out as his arm was bent backwards behind his back and slammed into a wall.

"Y/N!" Eddie hissed, taking her body off of Steve's.

The rest of the gang looked at the commotion, fast on their feet to run to Steve.

"Sorry!" Y/N said, a look of shock in her eyes. "I felt something burn in my body and lost it."

"From what?" Steve asked, his eyes huge as he sassed the girl, who he now noticed was dressed in Eddie's clothes.

"You touched Eddie," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't exactly sure herself.

"What's going on?" Robin asked. Quickly looking Death up and down, which didn't go unnoticed by Eddie. He snapped his fingers and Robin looked at him.

"Well," Steve said as he rubbed his arm, "looks like Eddie and um Y/N here are on a date."

The gang were shocked, not sure what to say.

"And she's the jealous type," Steve added through his clenched teeth.

"I'll stop by later and talk yeah? I'd like to enjoy my date," Eddie said as he slipped his hand into hers.

"Uh sure," Nancy said, still giving the two a weird look. Jonathan kept quiet, but he was just as confused.

The gang walked back to their table, Robin looking over her shoulder as the two sat back down.

"How the hell did he manage to swing her? She's way too hot for him," Robin scoffed.

"Oh little Rob, we'll get you your own little Death lover," Steve teased.

~~~

Within a few months, Y/N was around more often. She was glued to Eddie's side whenever she could be. Eddie loved it. He loved always having someone on his arm, and he wasn't mad about the kisses that were always placed on his skin.

The gang accepted her, a little on edge at times but she was mostly harmless. It was clear that the two were head over heels for each other in their own ways.

The times she was called to do her work, Eddie waited in his trailer. His heart warming when she appeared back within minutes, claiming she missed him.

Then she'd slide in his lap, Eddie's hands landing on her hips. He rubbed his thumb against her skin, thankful for the holes in her suit. He was guilty of getting hard whenever he saw her dressed in her suit. She was Death so of course she was mean about it. Rocking her hips against him as she slowly kissed his lips.

She was his and he was hers.

Who knew Death could make someone feel so alive.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123

[separatist-apologist]

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

If Gwyn didn’t force herself out of bed, she’d never leave. 

In Gwyn’s defense, she’d tried to leave multiple times only for Azriel to open his eyes and drag her back. She must have wasted half the week that way, happy to forget the horrors that were waiting just outside the bedroom door. She didn’t want to deal with the Day Court scholar, with Gunnar, or anything else that had been plaguing them. Azriel was good at keeping her mind preoccupied—one slide of his hand up her thigh evaporated whatever anxieties she had.

Save for the ones that centered around him. Three times now, she’d offered to get up and offer him something to eat, and each time he looked like he wanted it before he pulled her back, claiming he didn’t want to see her go, even for a moment.

But surely he wanted to cement what shimmered between them? 

Gwyn was starting to think Azriel didn’t want that at all. The thought pulled her from her dream, lost to the darkness of his bedroom and new insecurities worming their way through her chest. Azriel was asleep, for once—softly snoring as he laid on his back, his wings splayed out beneath him. One hand lay on his bare stomach, and for a moment, Gwyn was tempted to wake him up with her tongue and teeth. 

He’d like it, she thought. Every time she touched him, he watched with open-mouthed wonder, which broke her heart a little. Before, she’d assumed that he didn’t feel like he deserved it, and she’d wanted to prove that he did, but now…

Gwyn swung a leg over the edge of the bed slowly, watching to see if the spymaster would feel her leave him. Azriel didn’t move, his naked chest rising and falling slowly. He needed the sleep—she did, too, though she wasn’t going to get it until she talked to Nesta. 

It was its own form of torture, leaving him in that bed so she could try and get inside his head. Why not just ask him, some more rational part of her mind screamed. She’d been trying, for whatever that was worth. 

Slipping a night dress over her head once she was in the hall, afraid the material would be so loud it would wake him, Gwyn made her way to Nesta and Cassian’s bedchamber. Cracking the door, she found the curtains pulled half open so a beam of silvery moonlight fell over Cassian.

Who was awake.

Knife in hand.

Staring straight at her.

Gwyn raised her palms slowly, but Cassian was already sliding the dagger back on the bedside table. “Can I talk to Nesta?” she whispered.

“In the morning,” Cassian grumbled, wrapping his arms around Nestas sleeping form. They’d woken her, though. Nesta’s head popped up from Cassian’s chest, blinking against the dark.

“Gwyn?”

“Tell her to go back to sleep,” Cassian grumbled as Nesta wiped drool from her cheek. 

“Is everything okay?” Nesta asked, pulling out of Cassian’s embrace while he complained into a pillow. “Oh go sleep with Azriel if you’re that lonely.”

“I might,” Cassian retorted, rolling onto his stomach. He wasn’t wearing clothes, Gwyn realized, though Nesta mercifully had a night dress on. “I’ll bet he’d hold me if I asked.”

“He’d let you be the little spoon,” Nesta agreed, shaking her head back and forth before they made their way back out into the hall. 

Cassian flung a pillow at Nesta just as she shut the door, causing it to thump softly against the door.

“Did they…?”

“Probably,” Nesta said with a shrug, answering her unspoken question. Had Cassian and Azriel ever done anything together. Gwyn would ask…in a decade, or so when Azriel wasn’t so guarded. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Azriel,” she whispered, following Nesta up the steps to the living area. They both flopped down on the little loveseat, Nesta yanking a knitted blanket from the back to cover them both. “I think…I think he wishes the bond hadn’t happened.”

Nesta, who’d been slow and sleepy right up until that moment, snapped to attention. All the lights in the room flickered on, the house responding to Nesta's mood and magic. 

“How could you think that?” Nesta asked, brow furrowed. “He is always with you.”

“The bond pulls us together, but I’ve tried…” gods, but the whole thing was so embarrassing. “I’ve tried to accept the bond, and every time I offer, he distracts me until I forget.”

Nesta’s frown deepened. “Why?”

“I don’t know. I thought he’d want to, but…he doesn’t.” Gwyn swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Mates were rare—so rare she’d never expected one, never given having one any thought until she’d felt the bond between them. To tell Nesta, who was mated herself and happy about it, felt like another miserable blow. 

“Fuck him,” Nesta said, resting her head on the back of the couch. “Like he’d ever do better.”

“Is there anyone else?” Gwyn questioned, heart hammering. Nesta’s eyes were unfocused for a moment, brow furrowed over some memory she’d clearly forgotten. Gwyn knew Nesta was never going to be honest if there was—but there was. Or, there had been before he’d left, anyway. She’d never thought to ask—and she should. Ask him, anyway. Right then, though, Gwyn would have preferred to be swallowed whole by the earth itself.

“He loves you, though?”

Gwyn shrugged. “He says he does.”

“But you don’t believe him?” Nesta probed, some of her anger shifting into an emotion Gwyn thought she preferred not to see. It was pity. 

“Why won’t he accept the bond if he loves me? There’s someone else—”

“It would be easier if there was, wouldn’t it?” Nesta commented, angling her body to face Gwyn. 

Gwyn paused. “Why do you say that?”

Nesta considered her words, nose scrunched. “If he doesn’t want the bond…you can walk away.”

“Why would I want that?”

“Why would you want that?” Nesta asked with genuine curiosity. 

“I don’t.”

“But you’re out here talking to me, when you could just ask Az himself.” 

“I can’t just ask, hey Az, are you in love with another female—”

“No. Just you.”

Azriel’s voice drew their attention, his presence in the doorway catching them both by surprise. He stood there, arms crossed over his bare chest, his expression unreadable. How long had he been there? How had he known where she’d gone?

His shadows swarmed toward her, slinking through her unbound hair all the while whispering what she thought were apologies. Gwyn couldn’t speak their language, though she thought some part of her understood most of what they tried to convey.

“Traitors,” she whispered, watching as his shadows recoiled ever so slightly. 

“Talk to him,” Nesta whispered loudly, throwing Azriel a wink. “Did Cass climb in bed with you?”

Azriel didn’t smile. “Not tonight.”

“He’s getting jealous,” Nesta replied, fingers skimming Azriel’s arm before she slipped out. She whispered something to Azriel Gwyn didn’t hear, and only knew was spoken because he turned his head to the side so he could listen.

“I won’t,” he murmured in response, hazel eyes falling on her again.

“Goodnight, Gwyn,” Nesta called over her shoulder. Neither Gwyn nor Azriel spoke until Nesta was gone, though only Azriel heard the sound of Nesta’s door click shut. He took a careful half-step into the living room, his expression betraying nothing that might help her.

“You weren’t in bed,” he said flatly. Why? 

“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied, her stomach twisting nervously. She’d wanted to talk to Nesta, to have her friend reassure her that everything was fine and she didn’t need to worry. Not Azriel, whom she’d never really had an honest conversation with. They were too new, didn’t know each other well enough to delve into the complicated and messy history of their pasts. 

“I’m not in love with anyone else,” he said when it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything beyond not being able to sleep. He’d have to make the first move. Azriel took another half step toward her. “Only you.”

“Then why…” she tugged a strand of her hair. “Forget it. Forget I said—”

“Tell me.”

“Az,” she half pleaded, but he wasn’t letting it go. She could see the shape of his will, the determined set of his jaw—he was going to make her tell him everything she’d thought, every confession to Nesta, and then…she didn’t know. 

“I’ve done something, and now you think I don’t care for you,” he said, his voice cracking at the edges. He was coming closer now, walking as though he were being pulled. His wings were tight against his back, which she understood meant he was nervous—protecting himself from some threat.

From her. 

Gwyn turned on the sofa to face him as he came around the side, sinking softly to one knee, and then the other so they were almost eye level. He’d placed himself at her feet, looking up at her with the same expression she’d seen priestesses gaze at the statue of the Mother. 

“Why don’t you want to accept our bond?” she asked, forcing the words out of her mouth. “You keep putting of off.”

Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut, head turning to the side as though he couldn’t stand for her to see him. Instinctively, Gwyn’s fingers found his chin, turning his face so he had to look at her.

“I do want that,” he managed, his voice hoarse. “I want it…I want it more than anything.”

“Then why—”

“You’re so young,” he said, the words falling out like a rush of water. “You have your whole life and I…I had that time. It’s wrong to leash you to me, and I…I would wait. I will wait—”

“Don’t you know me at all?” she interrupted, her frustration warring with a giddy sort of joy. She’d fully expected the opposite—for him to say she was broken beyond repair, that she was too damaged to love, too imperfect for the likes of him. He’d indulge in the bond, but he didn’t want a life.

Azriel’s eyes shone like moonlight. 

“I don’t want another male. I’ve never wanted any male—”

“The bond—”

“Merely strengthens what was already there,” she said, thumb sweeping over his stubbled cheek. “It was always going to be you, or no one.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t get to tell me what I know,” she shot back. The corners of Azriel’s eyes crinkled though he didn’t smile. He wanted to, though, but was too comfortable denying himself anything that might bring him pleasure or joy. “I know that’s true, and with a century of space, it would still be your bed I crawled into every night.”

There was a beat as Gwyn imagined what Azriel was offering, a frown pulling at her mouth. “You’d let me sleep with other males?”

“Yes,” he agreed immediately, though there was a darkness in her expression. “But afterward, I might kill them for it.”

“How is that letting me find myself?”

“I’m not hurting you,” he replied, absurd and earnest as ever. 

“What if I fell in love with him?”

A growl slipped from his throat, his amusement gone, replaced by cold, unfeeling anger 

“See?” she whispered. “Why torture yourself when I’m here, and I want you?”

“And when you wake up in a century riddled with regret?” he asked her, cocking his head to the side. “What will I do, then?”

“Wake up from the terrible nightmare you had,” Gwyn shot back with a smile. “It’s not going to happen. I don’t like other males, Az. You are the only exception.”

Azriel rose to his feet, offering her his hand. “Come on,” he murmured. Gwyn followed after him, half tripping down the stairs though never once letting go of him. He took her to the kitchen, pulling open drawers and cabinets until he found was he was looking for.

A loaf of crusty, day old bread. Using a dagger he inexplicably had in his sleep shorts, Azriel sliced two pieces and set them on a plate while Gwyn protested that she was supposed to do it. 

“I want to,” he said, ending the argument swiftly. She let him slide that unbuttered piece of bread into her mouth, wishing something would happen. It seemed so unfair it had to be females, at least in this one instance. 

“Your turn,” he whispered, looking like a caged animal about to bolt. He didn’t think she’d do it—he expected her to back down. As if Gwyn had ever backed down from a challenge. She was slow, holding his gaze as she brought that piece of bread to his lips.

Azriel’s fingers curled around her wrist, holding her hand against his mouth, teeth gently nipping at the tips. 

“Do you feel it?” he asked, pulling on the cord between them. Of course she did, though before it had been a string tied around her rib with a knot she could have undone with some effort. Something that could be cut—snapped. Now, though, it was gold plated, firmly attached like another muscle she was only aware of when there was an ache.

Azriel kissed the palm of her hand. “Do you want a mating ceremony?” “No,” she said, the word bursting out of her with a laugh. “Do you?”

He shook his head back and forth. “It’s no one's business,” he murmured, though in truth, they simply didn’t like the fuss, being the center of everyone's attention. His friends would turn it into a spectacle because they loved him, and her friends would want the same. Gwyn was content with the bread, the dark, quiet kitchen, and whatever came next.

It was an eternity.

And she was glad for it.

—

Azriel knew Rhys knew the second he stepped into the room. Nostrils flared, eyes wide—there was only joy on Rhys’s face, followed by a flurry of unspoken questions. His friend knocked on Azriel’s warded mind, but Azriel wasn’t ready to share, yet. He was only at the River House because he wanted to ensure Eris Vanserra stayed far, far away from his mate.

Who was upstairs.

Sleeping.

In his bed.

He smothered a smile in favor of leaning against the fireplace mantle. 

“Where’s Feyre?” Cassian asked, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. It wasn’t even dawn, yet, and none of them wanted to be up, least of all Azriel who had foregone sleeping at all in favor. He’d put Gwyn to sleep—with his cock, no less—not an hour before. 

Was it strange to watch her sleep? Perching himself in the windowsill, Azriel had caught himself mesmerized by the way her hair fell around her face, how her chest rose and fall so steadily he could have set a clock to it. He wanted to touch her.

Gods, he wanted to touch her.

Once again, Eris Vanserra was in his way. 

“Asleep,” Rhys replied, eyes still pinned to Azriel. “She had a long night—”

“Can you please, just…” Cassian raised a finger to Rhys, looking as if he were at the end of his rope. “She’s like a sister to me.”

“With the baby,” Rhys finished, grinning sharply. “One day, when you have children of your own, you’ll experience a different sort of late night satisfaction.” Cassian mumbled something under his breath Azriel didn’t quite catch. He didn’t dare let himself imagine it—children, with Gwyn’s shock of cinnamon hair and teal eyes…and his wings.

The yearning he felt was so powerful it nearly brought him to his knees. There was time—infinite time, truly. It didn’t stop him from wanting, though. 

He smothered the thought as Eris strolled in, crisp as always, though this time crowned with the laurel leaves that marked him High Lord of Autumn. Even the air around him felt charged, causing the hair on the back of Azriel’s neck to stand on end. Eris deserved to be ripped limb from limb, and now he’d never get the chance.

Eris’s eyes swept over the room, his displeasure plain. “You know why I’m here.”

“I don’t,” Rhys lied, sitting in his chair, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. “I’m surprised you have the time, given the rumors of civil war…”

Eris’s amber eyes flashed. “Where is she?”

“Who?” Cassian questioned, but they all knew. They were here to play a role—the terrifying, brutish males of the Night Court that reveled in violence for fun. Eris ought to know better by then, but mates did something to a male. Made them less cautious, less careful, and Eris certainly wasn’t an exception. Azriel might have pitied him had he not kidnapped Gwyn. 

“Arina. I want her,” Eris declared, his hand inching toward the ceremonial sword hanging from his hip.

Rhys considered this. “I’m not familiar with her.”

Azriel shook his head back and forth as if to say, doesn’t ring a bell.

“I might have had her in my bed last—”

“Oh cut the shit,” Eris snarled, his temper already at the surface. “We can all walk away with something we want, or I can call all the other High Lords and force you to hand her over.”

“What do you think we want?”

“Knowledge,” Eris replied, holding Rhys’s gaze. “My father made several bargains that you might like knowing about. I might be willing to share them, even—if you produce Arina.”

“Last I heard—and I’m not saying she’s here—she was asking to return to Helion.”

“Fuck Helion,” Eris snarled, his patience shredding. He looked ready to start a fight, which caused both Cassian and Azriel to straighten themselves out. Rhys was their friend and their High Lord—another High Lord threatening him, especially on their soil, was unforgivable. “She’s a pawn to you, so use her.”

“I want to know the deal he made with Montessere,” Rhys replied.

“Swear you’ll give me my mate if I tell you. Immediately,” Eris replied. He wasn’t stupid—bargains were specific or they weren’t worth much. Rhys could agree and then keep her for the next six centuries and Eris would simply have to wait.

Azriel would have liked to see it.

Rhys stood. “Fine. I’ll return her to you this morning if you outline the deal.”

“There was no deal,” Eris said once they’d shaken hands, his expression triumphant. “Not with Montessere, anyway—Gunnar is merely an undead puppet.”

The room was utterly silent. “Undead?” Cassian finally asked. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“He’s dead.” Eris declared, as if Azriel hadn’t seen him with his own eyes. He’d been unwell, certainly, and perhaps paler than Azriel would have liked…but dead? Wouldn’t he have noticed that? “His soul has left his body, and he’s being moved around by the god of death.”

“He can do that?” Cassian asked when no one else spoke.

“Apparently so,” Rhys murmured, running a hand down his chin. “How do you know this?”

“Beron was paranoid—he kept notes on everyone. Every conversation, every interaction, every realization. I left his body there, and it's very likely Koschei has it, too. Beron seemed to think he could reach us on the wind, whispering promises and power in exchange for his bidding.”

Some small realization slithered over Rhys’s face, smothered before anyone but Azriel caught it. 

“What was the deal?”

“Power, of course,” Eris replied, holding Rhysand’s gaze. “High King of Prythian, his enemies destroyed and dead.”

“What did Beron give him for it?”

Eris only sighed. “I don’t know. He didn’t say, didn’t write it down…or it was destroyed before I found it. Some of the noble families ransacked his office while I was quelling a rebellion up north, and when I returned, things were missing.”

Rhys stood. “How are you dealing with them?”

Eris’ smile held no joy. “Death.”

“So the King of Montessere is dead, puppetted by a god, and at least one High Lord here is doing his bidding. How many others?”

“You read minds, not me,” Eris replied flippantly. “Now give me my mate.”

“The cipher remains here,” Azriel said, speaking for the first time. Arina had stolen it from Gwyn, and Azriel firmly believed only Gwyn could finish deciphering that book that might help explain what Koschei’s plan was. Maybe the Day Court scholar was smart—though, she was tethered to Eris Vanserra, which certainly didn’t lend any credibility to her cause. 

“Fine,” Eris snapped, unaware of its importance. 

“I’ll get her,” Cassian murmured, stretching out his wings. Cassian was likely the only one of the four of them on good enough standing with the scholar to convince her to let him touch her—

Azriel was pretty sure she’d claw out his eyes if he came within a hundred feet of her.

There was no love lost between them—she’d stolen from Gwyn and refused to hand it back, even after everything. 

Arina was brought down ten excruciating minutes later, disheveled and still in her night clothes. Eris looked ready to murder someone. 

“Did you touch her—”

“Of course I touched her,” Cassian snapped, shaking out his hands before plopping back to the sofa. “We had to fly down here. Unless you’d prefer I drop her—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Eris managed, looking her over. Arina looked irate, turning from Eris to Rhys.

“You’re sending me with him?”

Rhys only shrugged. “He’s the only one asking for you.”

It was unnecessarily cruel, in Azriel’s opinion, though not a lie. Helion hadn’t been begging for her back, likely because he trusted Rhys not to hurt her. Eris didn’t, though. Eris looked like he wanted to touch her and though it was cruel, Azriel hoped she never let him. 

“The alliance between us stands,” Rhys called as Eris turned to leave, having shrugged out of his jacket to drape it over her shoulders. 

Eris glanced backward. “I don’t want to see our land ravaged by an unchained god.”

It was good enough, at least for the moment. Eris swept out a moment later, hand hovering against Arina’s back though he didn’t dare touch her. It was well deserved, seeing Eris suffer. For once, Azriel got what Eris couldn’t buy his way into.

Rhys waited until the front door slammed closed. 

“Where is Elain and Lucien?” Rhys asked, his voice just a shade too casual. Had Rhys told Cassian what he’d confided in Azriel a week earlier? 

“He was taking her to Spring with him,” Cassian told Rhys. Rhys filled Cassian in, leaving out the parts regarding the potential originations of Azriel’s magic. That wasn’t confirmed—they couldn’t prove it. All Azriel had was his suspicions and fears. He wasn’t sure he wanted Cassian to know until he himself knew for sure.

Cassian handed Azriel the cypher while Rhys asked them to leave, intending to call the pair back to Night. He’d ordered Cassian not to say a word to Nesta about it, admitting he hadn’t told Feyre the whole truth, either. The Archeron’s would circle around Elain, with Nesta and Feyre creating a wall of power they’d make the rest of them punch through in order to get to Elain, regardless if she was working with Koschei or not.

Azriel had never been more grateful to not be mated to one of the sisters as he was right then. They’d meet again once Rhys had his answers regarding Elain, and then…Azriel knew they’d be preparing for war. How did you kill an immortal god? Amren likely knew, but Azriel didn’t think he wanted to.

Not then, anyway.

He and Cassian made their way back to their respective mates, though Cassian’s mood was much darker. He loathed being told to keep secrets from Nesta, his loyalty between his friend and High Lord, and his mate constantly at odds. 

Gwyn’s cypher was on the desk in her room, put there by his shadows after Cassian had ordered Arina to hand it over. Gwyn would be delighted, which was all he cared about right then. Picking it up, he sat on the edge of the bed, intending to watch her sleep.

Gwyn peeked open an eye. “Come back to bed.

“I have something for you,” he murmured. She leaned upward, hair spilling over her shoulders like molten fire. She was so beautiful it made his teeth ache. Azriel handed her the slips of paper, unable to hold back a smile when her own expression lit up with joy.

“How?” she breathed.

“Eris made an exchange—this was part of the bargain.”

Gwyn bit her bottom lip, apprehension sliding over her features. “You let him take her?”

“It wasn’t my choice,” Azriel reminded her. “Why?”

“It’s just…I was going to teach her how to use a knife.”

“It’s not that complicated,” Azriel assured her, ignoring that he’d once given Gwyn dagger lessons. He simply couldn’t bring himself to care, and wished Gwyn cared less, too. He knew what she saw, though—a defenseless female being delivered into the hands of a cruel male.

How many people would think the same had happened to her? Many, if he had to guess. Most everyone outside of Velaris, even. He didn’t have a polite reputation, after all.

Gwyn set the cipher to the side table by the bed before reaching for his bicep to drag him back to the pillows. Azriel kicked his boots off quickly, wishing his clothes had fewer buckles. It would be a nightmare to get them all off—and he wasn’t going to use brute strength to tear them apart. High quality leathers were hard to come by.  

She let him strip down to his underthings before stopping him, fingers squeezing his wrist. “Lay with me?” she whispered into the dark as if she’d asked him for something costly—something he wouldn’t freely give her.

Azriel clenched his jaw, not out of anger, but nerves. Just lay? Propping himself against a wall of pillows, he stretched out his arm while she curled into his side, cheek pressed to his chest. Cautiously, Azriel ran his fingers through her hair, letting the silken strands drape against his skin like rivulets of water. 

“Are you afraid?” she asked him after a heartbeat of silence.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Azriel lied. It seemed, lately, that he was afraid of so much. His fears had centralized, coalescing around the female cradled against his body. For the first time in

Azriel’s life, he had something that was his—something he could truly lose. 

“Well, I am,” Gwyn admitted, fingers splayed against his bare chest. Azriel took her hand, pressing a kiss to her fingertips. 

“You don’t need to be afraid of anything,” Azriel told her, thinking he could carry enough fear for them both. “I’m here.”

There was something to be said for resisting the urge to give in to the lust he felt for her, the instinct to sink into a frenzy. If he was intentional, he thought he could keep her in bed until she was with a child and—

Azriel’s throat constricted.

A child.

A family.

Not like the one he’d had as a boy, violent and angry and fearful, but one of laughter. For a moment it all stretched out before him—Gwyn, bright and happy, that smile illuminating the shadows clinging to the corners of the room. He could hear the sounds of children laughing, their feet pounding on the floors as they jumped from furniture. He could see it—his wings, her eyes. 

He wouldn’t yell, like his father had. Not at Gwyn, not at his children. Azriel exhaled a breath, lost in the fantasy. 

He’d need things—like a home, for one. If he told Feyre, she’d go about purchasing something ostentatious and close, but Azriel thought he’d like something smaller and outside the city. Something close to Nesta and Emerie. Cassian had talked about moving to Illryia, a thought that had repulsed Azriel at the time, but maybe…maybe that would be so bad.

He could move his mother in, too. He thought Gwyn would like her.

He knew she’d love Gwyn.

By the time Azriel returned to the present, Gwyn was asleep. That wasn’t how he’d wanted the night to go—he’d hoped she’d keep his ears warm with her thighs, if nothing else. Still, it seemed sacrilegious to wake her, even if Azriel was convinced he’d never fall asleep. 

He did—of course he did. He’d been sleeping more often since he’d met Gwyn than ever before in his life. Once he was asleep, Azriel was asleep—totally dead to the world in a way he’d never experienced, which caused him to wake a little after dawn with a sharp inhale of air.

Gwyn wasn’t there, as she so often wasn’t. Azriel hated the panic that rumbled through him, even as he heard her laughter floating through the air, sure as any of his shadows. They swarmed, save the one that trailed after her everywhere, murmuring that she was having breakfast with Nesta while Cassian went to retrieve Emerie 

She hadn’t left him. Azriel took another breath, trying to settle his stammering heart as he dressed casually, padding into the dining room where Gwyn and Nesta were gleefully heaping spoonfuls of sugar into oatmeal already laden with fruit. When she saw him leaning in the doorframe, she grinned up at him.

“Hungry?” she asked. A bolt of lust swam through him, causing Nesta to wrinkle her nose in disgust. 

Azriel ducked his head, embarrassed and pleased all at the same time. He knew they needed to figure out what to do with Koschei, with Eris, with the world itself. But right then as Azriel sat down at the table, he felt content.

Optimistically happy.

He didn’t think it would last.

[haveihitanerve]

Batman falls into a coma and the JL aren't too worried. The doctors said he’d recover, although a time frame was still escaping them, and as far as they knew, everyone who needed to be informed about it was a JL member. Until the others started showing up. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit man!” Flash muttered, pacing frantically in the main room. “Hey, dude, chill out.” Green Lantern lifted a hand and a massive green hand slowed the Flash’s speed. “Relax man. You heard the doctors. He will be fine. Eventually. When he wakes up.” “If.” Green Arrow added a little quieter. Lantern shot him a look. “Not helping.” “So what? When he wakes up, if! We still let the Batman get hit on a mission with us! He’ll never go out with us again!” Barry flopped onto the couch in dismay. “Hey man its okay.” Oliver reached over a comforting hand and placed it on the speedsters shoulder. “You never know. And it was an honest… issue. None of us saw the hit coming and… well there was nothing we could do.” Hal nodded his agreement. “Exactly. Relax a little Barry.” The Zeta Tubes flashed open and Wonder Woman and Superman arrived. The three men snapped up. “Where is he?” Clark asked. Barry sighed and led the way to the med room where Batman was laying. Clark and Diana went to his sides, staring down at him with a mix of concern and contemplation on their faces. “We don't know what to do.” Hal threw out, unnecessarily. “Should we remove the cowl? I mean it would break trust but to know who he is-” “you cant.” Diana interrupted before he could continue. The men all whipped around to look at her. She gestured to Batmans face, right next to her hand. “You cant. I tried. It must be some protective contingency. If hes unresponsive then the mask sort of.. Seals itself to his face.” She sounded almost impressed. “Freaky.” Barry muttered. “Leave it to Bats to not trust us even unconscious.” Hal muttered. “He does trust you.” Clark reprimanded, sending the Lantern a hard look. “Otherwise he wouldn't have gone on that mission with you.” At the mention of that all three men winced. “Anyway,” Oliver redirected the conversation. “What should we do?” “Contact anyone you know who is related to him in some way.” Hal gestured at them. “That would be us.” “What about Nightwing?” Clark asked. “He was Batmans robin.” Diana nodded. “Yeah but hes.. Hes just like a kid. And who knows if Bats even is connected to him like that.” Hal pointed out. Diana shrugged, pulling out her Justice League pager. “Better to inform him and him not to care than have him care and not know.” She countered, sending a quick message. They conceded to her point. “Besides if he doesn't have that connection, at least we’ll get to hang with him.” Oliver added. “Yeah.” Barry agreed. “He’s always so cheerful and fun!” But when they settled down in the main room to wait, when he arrived Nightwing was anything but.

The JL members had all just about settled down when the Zeta Tube opened. Was flung open, more like it, and Nightwing came billowing out, face stormy. “Where is he?” He growled, and Barry swore lightning crackled in his hands. Hal’s finger shot up in the direction of the room. Nightwing stalked past them, hurrying into the room. The members exchanged looks and scuttled after him. Nightwing had taken a seat at Batman’s side, holding his hand with his own. “Oh B.” He murmured, voice unexpectedly gentle after the rage he had only just previously shown. “Um, Nightwing?” The man stood as they entered, though he kept a lose hold on Batman’s hand.  “What happened?” He asked. Ordered, was more like it. “We- we uh were on a mission at a nearby planet and uh,” Barry licked his lips nervously, caught off guard by Nightwing’s unwavering steely gaze, usually so friendly and open. “Uh well, we thought everything was clear to go when a hit came suddenly, right in the middle of us, exploding us in different directions. We uh, the rest of us,” He gestured between himself and the two Greens. “Landed okay but uh, Bats hit his head hard. He’s in a coma.” Nightwing’s jaw set. “The doctors are sure he will recover in due time.” Clark added hastily. Nightwing offered him a curt nod. “In what time?”  The silence was awkward and deafening. Nightwing’s eyes tightened. “I see.” He looked down at the Bat at his side. “Well, best to call the others then.” He sighed, looking up to meet their eyes. “You got any coffee?” 

Nightwing left soon after, downing his cup of coffee in one go and informing them he was going home to tell the others, and that he’d be back soon with some supplies and medical assistance. They barely had time to ask what on earth and who on earth before he was gone. “Well that went well-” Barry muttered, just as the Zeta Tube doors were flung opened for the second time in one day and a very large and very aggressive looking man stormed in the doors. “Um, excuse me hello?” Barry, Hal, and Oliver stood in his way. “Who the fuck are you?” The man squinted at them, eyes narrowing behind his red mask. “The name’s Red Hood. Wheres B?” Hal lifted his hand, ring glowing. “Now listen here-” He barely managed to spit out the last word before his hand was in the strangers and he was twisting, twisting twisting. Hal screamed as his fingers snapped, crumpling to the floor. The man, Red Hood apparently, looked down at him cooly. “Ill ask again: Wheres B?” Barry pointed a shaking hand to the room. Red Hood prowled past them, throwing open the door and making his way to Batmans side. “Gods B.” He groaned quietly, sitting down carefully at the edge of the bed. “Hypocrite.” He muttered, but they all cataloged the fact that he tucked the blanket tighter around Batman’s shoulders. “He broke my fucking fingers.” Hal hissed. Oliver barely glanced at his friend. “What you want us to let him break ours too to make you feel better? Theres gauze and a brace in the closet.” Hal sent him a dirty look as Barry helped him tape the fingers together, stabilizing them. “I made more coffee-” Clark started, freezing as he walked in. “What in the hell?” He gasped, examining Hal’s fingers. Hal pointed an accusing finger(the non broken one) at the med bay. “That sicko broke them when I tried to stop him from going in there.” Clark frowned, eyes narrowing. “Thats not-” 

The Zeta Tube dinged and opened, normally this time, instead of being thrown open, and two more others piled out. “So this is the Tower huh?” The one on the right mused, wearing a muted purple outfit. The man on her left nodded, wearing a red suit, a black X across the front. Both were wearing clearly emblazoned Bat symbols on their chests. “What a waste of money. He couldn't have spruced it up a bit?” The girl asked with distaste, but Hal swore he heard false cheerfulness in her voice. The man nudged her with his shoulder. Oliver coughed. The two turned to look at them. “Oh. Hello.” The girl greeted cheerfully. “Where’s B?” “Are you gonna break our fingers if we don't tell you?” Hal asked warily. The girl winced sympathetically. “We told Dickie we should've come first.” She sighed. “No, we won’t. At least, not yet.” Her smile was all the more terrifying after that statement. The boy rolled his eyes, shoving her. “Shut up you weirdo. I’m Red Robin.” He introduced. “My freaky friend here is Spoiler. We’re not in the business of breaking fingers….” he trailed off, a strange look overcoming his features. “We’re not in the business of breaking our not-fathers colleagues fingers.” Spoiler corrected for him cheerfully. Barry had a feeling she did everything terrifying cheerfully. Even if it sounded just a little forced. Hal paled. “Good to know.” Clark said a little weakly. Red Robin smiled faintly. “Yeah. Anyway, wheres B?” “Over here you nimrods.” the finger-breaker poked his head out the door. “Hood!” Spoiler hurried over and he held the door open for her to rush past. Red Robin excused himself as well, heading over. Clark, Oliver, and Diana, more intrigued than afraid(unlike Barry and Hal) also made their way over, hovering in the back. Spoiler perched on the side of the bed, reaching her hand for his face. “The mask wont come off.” Diana stopped her. “We’ve tried.” Red Robin sent them a look and Red Hood shuffled further away in disgust. Spoiler merely glanced casually over her shoulder. “Oh I wasn't gonna.” She trailed a finger down his cheek, resting it on his neck. “He’s alive S.” Red Robin murmured quietly, taking her hand. Spoiler nodded jerkily. “I would hope so or I just dragged poor doc up here for nothing.” Came another voice and Hal almost breathed a sigh of relief as Nightwing appeared, three more people with him. “The O’s are watching Gotham, but they said he’d better wake up before they hurts someone.” His gaze drifted to the Justice League for a quick second before darting away again. Barry swallowed. The child at his side, because thats what it was, a child, sniffed hauntily. “If they can get here in time.” Red Hood chuckled, reaching down to heft the boy onto his hip. “Thats what I’m saying Demon Brat.” Clark and Barry exchanged glances at the insulting nickname, somehow said fondly. “Oh leave it alone you insufferable children.” said a lofty voice. Said voice came from the woman at Nightwings side, and she drifted casually into the room, taking a seat next to the bed. “Catwoman?” Barry exclaimed in disbelief. She offered him, appropriately, a feline smile. “In the flesh.” Nightwing chuckled, nodding to the last person in his little entourage, another female, older, with wispy white hair. “Dr. Leslie Tompkins.” Nightwing introduced them. The, civilian, for her part, didn't flinch in the face of so many heroes, instead making a beeline for the bed where she began her work. “Ok- wait, why are you all here?” Oliver finally asked, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. The kids, because thats what they were, all laughed. “These lovely strays,” Catwoman introduced, smiling as she waved a hand around to encompass the company. “Are Batmans brood. His children.” She elaborated. “And we’re missing a few too.” Nightwing muttered. The JL stared at them with open mouths. “Ah, um, okay.” Hal stuttered out finally. “And uh, who are you?” Catwoman smiled, a smile that meant pure trouble. “Oh me? I’m no one.” She lifted her right hand to reveal the sparkly diamond ring on her finger. “Only his wife.” 

Needless to say, when Batman finally woke up, he was met with the sight of his entire family, his doctor, and a very confused Justice League. The first thing he did, after kissing his wife hello and hugging all of his children, was groan. "Oh alright already." He muttered, and slipped off his cowl. "Hello Justice League, my name is Bruce Wayne." Oliver fainted.

[after-witch]

Gum Line [Yandere Mahito x Reader[

Title: Gum Line [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: You need to get your teeth cleaned and Mahito wants to watch.

Word count: 1740

notes: yandere, mentions of death and violence, mentions of past injury on reader, reader is getting their teeth cleaned, Mahito

“You really don’t need to come,” you hissed lowly. “It’s fine. Really. It’s just a quick cleaning.”

Mahito puffed out his cheeks and peered through the glass door into the waiting room. “But I want to come. I’ve never been to a dentist. I want to see what they do to you.”

The receptionist was, at this point, staring at you and made a come-in gesture with her hands. You were standing out there too long for it to be normal. So you sighed and put your hand on the knob.

“Fine.” You bit out the words and regretted them as soon as they left your lips, but there was no taking it back. It didn’t matter, anyway. He was going to come in with or without your agreement.

“You can watch, just… just try to stay out of the way, okay? Please? I really need this cleaning.”

“Yay!” His cheer was too loud and too close, but he never cared about that, did he? Mahito wrapped his arm around yours and flung the door open with his other, only to pull you into the office with a giddy delight. To everyone else, it must have looked like you accidentally almost-tripped over the threshold after entering too quickly. 

“S-Sorry,” you said, breathless, smiling, to the receptionist. “I’m a bit clumsy today.”

She smiled back, all prim and professional. But you wondered what she must be thinking.  You were standing up far too straight, sweat on your forehead, and you’d just been standing there at the door muttering to yourself before you stumbled inside like a drunkard. 

“You know,” Mahito said, as you signed your name on the sign-in sheet, “you’ve gotten really good at making up lies on the spot!” 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, and gritted your teeth instead. 

Why did Mahito make even the most everyday things in your life so complicated?

—

He pouted. Honest-to-goodness pouted. 

“You never open your mouth so nicely like that for me.” He rested his chin in his hand and furrowed his eyebrows. “I always gotta fight you for it." He pointed an accusatory finger at your chin. And you’re not even trying to bite her! No fair!” 

You choked a little on your spit. Couldn’t he just shut up–

“Are you doing all right?” She asked, pulling the tools out of your mouth for the moment. 

You closed your mouth and smiled tightly. “Mm-hmm. Sorry, I just have um, some dental anxiety, so…”

She wiped the scaler on your bib and moved the light up a little. Mahito followed the movement and began poking the bulbs.

“Do you think she’d mind if I broke this?” You almost said something, but he shrugged. “Ah, but the pieces would get into your mouth, and we’d be stuck here longer.”

The hygienist continued, not knowing that a curse which could end her life in a moment was hovering over her shoulder, pouting like a damn child.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. Just raise your hand if you need me to take a break, okay?”

“Thank you,” you said, and opened your mouth wide to encourage her to continue. She did, returning to examine your teeth with the little mirror, poke here and there, get a good idea of what she needed to tackle first.

Good. The faster she worked, the sooner you could get out of here. The sooner you got out of here, the less likely it was that Mahito would act up.

Act up. Hah. As if his acts of violence were a toddler throwing a tantrum in the grocery store, chubby fists hitting the hard floor as he wailed because he was tired, bored, hungry, didn’t get the toy he wanted, did get the toy he wanted but now it wasn’t fun, the sky was blue and he wanted it green…

No, no, the comparison wasn’t entirely off, was it? Sure, he wasn’t throwing a fit because the store was out of strawberry milk (but he might, you thought, if he took a liking to it) but he might kill someone waiting in the congested line at the grocery store because he was tired of you running errands and wanted you back in your apartment.

And he might kill this hygienist, to have you fleeing home, away from the blood, the carnage, the screams. And because it would be amusing to him, even if you weren’t around. 

But the notion went beyond his tendency to pout, to be impulsive, to want what he wants when he wants it, didn’t it? He was always learning, always eager to learn. What he did know often felt instinctive and unfulfilled, and he was using you to stuff the gaps. Watching what you did and said.

Testing you, teasing you, seeing what he could take away from your ordinary personhood. Like someone who’d never lived among people finally making it to the big city, taking in the sights and sounds and world with eagerness. 

He was just so damn new. Sometimes you felt like he should be covered in a thin, slimy caul. Only you didn’t know if he would be better or worse if he lost it. 

Mahito waved one of his hands.

“You look like you’re thinking really hard. What are you thinking about?”

“Nuffing,” you said, with a mouthful of dental tools.

The hygienist pulled them out again.

“Sorry, you needed a break?”

Oops.

“Sorry,” you said. “I forgot to raise my hand. It’s okay now, I just got a little tense because my back tooth is a bit sore.”

“Oh, I’ll be more careful.” And the sharp tools went back inside your mouth.

Mahito was quiet for a while, which was both wonderful and terrifying. He was simply watching the hygienist work now. His eyes were intent on the repetitive movements of the scaler, the way she scraped your gum. You saw him look down at your hands–clenching the straps of your purse, as you always did at the dentist but especially so today–and back at your face.

He weaved around to the other side of the chair so that he could get in close to your face without risking knocking into the hygienist or the light fixture above your head.

“You’re bleeding a lot,” he said. “Is that normal? Is that why she keeps squirting water in your mouth? Why don't you just swallow it?” 

He ran a finger along your cheek, and you made a soft, high sound in your throat. The hygienist paused, but when you didn’t raise your hand or try to talk, she kept going. A small mercy.

“How much does it hurt? A lot? A little? Less or more than the time I broke your finger?” His pinky traced the beginning of a tear in the corner of your eye. You didn’t know if it was from the sharp pain in your gums or from the terror coursing through your veins. At his words, sure, but the very nature of this awful scenario was simply too much for you. 

In a moment, the woman who was simply doing her job to clean your teeth might be dead. The receptionist who probably gossiped with you to a coworker the second you were out of earshot might be dead. The people in the waiting room, the old man with an audiobook on tape and the little girl playing with the germ-ridden toys tucked in the corner–dead, dead, dead. Piles of pus and blood and bloated flesh.

You could be that, too. If he decided he wanted it. 

Mahito let his pinky slide delicately from your eye to your mouth. He touched the edge of your stretched lip, and when he brought it up to the light, you could see a smear of gum-blood.

A small tear finally made its way out of your eye. From the pain, that’s what the hygienist would tell herself. Maybe she would stop again, or maybe she’d be glad you were toughing it out, so she could move on to her next appointment quicker.

Mahito saw the tear and frowned. 

“Hey. Are you upset because I brought up the finger? You can’t be mad at me about that anymore, remember? It wasn’t on purpose–well, I didn’t mean to break it, anyway. And I fixed it, so...” He gazed down at your hands, clenched so hard around the strap of your purse that you had to reflexively relax them to keep them from aching. 

He looked so serious, so suddenly. It made your stomach do awful flips. 

“You’re the first person I’ve fixed, did you know that?”

You didn’t. 

“Normally I just play with humans. Take them apart. Turn them into something new. Experiment, experiment, experiment.” He sighed, almost dreamily. “It’s fun. Really! I’ve learned a lot. But with you–” 

He didn’t finish whatever thought he had. Instead, he sat down on the unused stool next to the dental chair, then, and took hold of your hands. It was nothing for him to pry your fingers away from your purse.

You hoped the hygienist wouldn’t look down–how strange would it look for your hands to be hovering in midair, like they were being held by nothing at all? 

If only he was nothing.

He squeezed your fingers.

“You don’t need to hold a bag, see?”

You raised your eyebrows.. You couldn’t ask the questions tumbling in your mind, and you’re not sure that you wanted to know the answers, anyway. 

Then the hygienist poked a particularly sensitive area behind your front teeth, and you flinched in the chair. You squeezed his hands tight. Reflexively, you told yourself. Reflexively.

Mahito glanced down at your intertwined hands. He looked serious again. Somber. Even soft, maybe? Or was that your imagination, pathetic, frightened as it was? You half-expected him to pat your hands and tell you that he was here, not to worry. Like your mom did when you were a kid and needed a root canal.

Then his gaze lifted suddenly and he grinned side enough to show you his gum line. He stuck his tongue out and poked one of his teeth, then spoke–you realized, with a bubble of sickness in your chest, that he’d given himself a second tongue. 

“I was thinking… if she has to pull out one of your teeth, do you get to keep it? Can I have it?” 

You groaned out a whimper, but the hygienist continued working.

Mahito didn’t let go of your hands.

[lilacxquartz]

Trouble in Paradis: Jealousy

levi ackerman x f!reader

plot: various one shots of yandere house husband levi ackerman x oblivious reader continued — scenario: thinking that you have a secret admirer, levi is not pleased — a/n: reminder, this is a no titans au • w.c: 800ish • masterlist • on ao3

Levi stared at the bouquet of flowers that sat over the breakfast, his fingers drumming against the wooden surface. The arrangement was delicately selected and put together with such care, that it made him seethe.

They were your favourite flowers too and even the binding paper was a colour you enjoyed. Meaning someone took the time to get to know your preferences, which didn’t sit right with him at all.

After all, why would someone else need to know that sort of thing? Didn’t he make it clear enough to everyone that you were his? Perhaps there was someone who simply just didn’t know about him and his role as your loving husband just yet.

If that was the case, then, well… that much had to change, because nobody had any business giving you flowers, especially not ones like these.

As he plotted his search, Levi leaned forward, extending his hand to grab at the flowers, rubbing the petals between his fingers to inspect them further. These were pricy. Likely from Petra’s floristry. Her assortments didn’t run cheap either, so someone splurged with you in mind.

How… unacceptable.

Just as he was done meticulously plucking the flower for all that it was worth, and right before he reached for another one, the front door flung open, revealing your return. Levi stopped in his tracks, dusting away the petals, turning his attention back to you.

“Finally got everything…” you opened up with, settling some produce on the counter. “Can you believe these were all free?”

Levi absentmindedly nodded, smiling for your victory but the gesture didn’t quite reach his eyes. No, he was too focused. He shouldn’t be though. At least not around you. With that, he sat up straighter, smoothing his expression into something warmer, allowing his eyes to wonder around all of the ingredients you managed to score.

“How wonderful,” he forced, “we’re going to eat so well this week.”

However, Levi also couldn’t resist.

“Where did you get those from?” he asked, pointing at the bouquet.

For a moment, you were dazed, but then blinked towards his guided direction. “Oh!” you happily chirped, unaware of his building internalised anger. “I got these from a customer just this morning. Isn’t that so sweet?”

Levi stilled and didn’t answer for a hot beat. He stared at you for a long time, studying both the way you reacted to receiving such a gift and how you spoke about it. You were oblivious. Of course you were. He was used to that much.

“Ah, of course,” he finally said, biting back what he truly wanted to say, “I'll be right back,” he added, slipping out of the front door before you could protest.

As Levi walked, he found himself walking into Petra’s floristry, ready to interrogate if needed, even when he knew he shouldn’t. He stormed inside, the bell above the door swinging with a violent ring that made the shopkeeper pause.

“W-welcome to…” Petra stammered, before realising it was just Levi, “oh, it’s just… can I help you?”

Levi didn’t waste a single second of time before he described word for word, petal for petal, the bouquet that ended up in your hands. “Who bought it?”

Petra blinked, her mind blanking as she tried to recall. “Right… well, um, I think… a military officer swung by for that one and his w—“

“—give me names, Petra,” Levi strained, catching her right before she could finish speaking. A military officer? How quaint. Perhaps it was someone who thought they had a chance. Not if he could help it.

Petra reluctantly gave him a wary glance before reciting the two names that sought the flowers. “It was a thank you gesture.”

Levi paused as a woman’s name popped up, but more importantly, the nature of the gift. He calmed his tone, reigning himself in, “A thank you gesture…?”

Petra nodded, looking a little less nervous now that he was calmer. “Yes, apparently she helped his wife out with something a while ago when she was sick, so they wanted to pick out a bouquet together as a gesture from them both.”

Levi stared at her, feeling the tension gradually leave his body. His shoulders sagged from his once taut posture and he let out a deep, strained breath.

“Ah,” he simply said, returning back to his regular, albeit still stoic self, leaving Petra just as uncertain as before, “in that case then,” he pondered before continuing, “I’ll take another bouquet exactly like that.”

“P-pardon?” Petra replied, although still idly moving to go and sort the arrangement, threading out flowers from pots and lining a sheet of paper on the counter.

“Add in some of those though,” Levi pointed at a few other varieties, knowing you liked those too.

So be it. You’ll have two bouquets on the table.

That much was fair wasn’t it?

His lovely wife who was so helpful, who deserved just a bit of extra praise. Seeing how happy those flowers made you too, thinking back to the glimmer in your eyes as your gaze glossed over them on the table…

Well, it was only fair that he brought you some every week now, wasn’t it?

Only the best for you, after all.

[letaliabane]

A Promise - Valet!SimonRiley and Maid!Reader trigger warning: a bit of bodily wounds, a tiny bit of gore

On his day off, Simon went into Ripon, leaving Downton long before the rest of the staff were awake to cause a ruckus.

Ever since his fall in front of the family, he found that a persistent limp occurred, especially on the leg that had been shot during the war.

Simon had thought it was just acting up as usual, but he found the pain to grow slowly every day. And instead of going to a doctor, he had seen something in particular through a catalogue that had been said to work better.

He found himself in front of a store, 'Cambell & Co,' recognising it from the catalogue. Letting himself inside, he found himself in a small space displaying crutches, pictures of human anatomy and prosthetics of all kinds, welcomed by the sound of grinding metal.

As the bell rang above the door a short, pudgy, older man came out from the back, sweaty and unfriendly sour-faced. Even scoffed at the sight of Simon. Not something you'd expect from a businessman who wants to sell.

'Yes?' The old man asked, 'What do you need?'

'This advertisement for a limp corrector, does it work?'

The man's frown deepened. 'It corrects limps and I advertise that they work, is it likely I would say no?'

Simon stared him down, the man even taking a step away from him until he finally grumbled in reply, 'Let's see it.'

Quickly the man bolted out of sight before returning with a large box. From within he pulled the contents of a large metal contraption clearly used around a leg.

'We adjust this to your height then you tighten these,' the man pointed to the straps connected to the contracting metal, 'and over time, the leg will straighten and the foot lowers to the floor. It won't be easy, no let up and a must every day!'

Simon silently took in the contraption once again, hovering over the straps, hooks and gadgets.

'Very well, how much?'

A week later

You sighed heavily as you flung the bedroom door open, pulling in a bucket and equipment to the side.

'And I couldn't find Lady Mary's britches at all, so I asked Mr Riley to check among his Lordship riding clothes that had been washed, and there it was!' You said to the new maid, Maia, who followed you into the room. 'Anyway, we should start preparing their things and the room. I'll—'

You heard sniffling behind you, turning to see Maia with a hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes and red in her cheeks.

'Oh, Maia! What's all this then?' You rushed to her side, rubbing her arms gently. 'Come sit down here.'

Sitting down on the bed, you wrapped your arm in comfort around her, letting her have a moment.

'What's the matter?'

You looked to the doorway to see Mr Riley, a coat over his arm, looking into the room curiously.

Maia gasped, 'Oh it's nothing I'm just being silly, I'll be alright in a moment be on your way.'

He looked down the corridors before entering the room and closing the door behind him. 'His lordship won't be up til another half hour. So tell us what's the matter?'

Maia's bottom lip wobbled, tears plummeting down her face. 'Some of the staff overhead me talking about wa-wanting to leave service. And su-suppose I don't achieve it? I doubt I'll leave service till I'm sixty!'

'What's brought this on? You were so keen the last few weeks,' You said remembering all the conversations you'd had with her, 'You shouldn't let them affect your dream—'

'You didn't see their faces!' She exclaimed, 'I'm nothing but the daughter of a farmer, and I'm a maid! I'm lucky to even be that—'

'Enough of that,' Simon stated firmly, eyes hardening, Maia immediately calming down at his shift in tone. 'You can change your life if you wish to. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices and they can be brutal but for the better. Trust me I know—'

A low, pained hiss caught your attention, turning to catch Mr Riley flinch in sudden pain. You frowned in concern.

'Are you well Mr Riley?'

He was quick to straighten up, ignoring your question. 'Take her downstairs. Let her dry her tears.'

With a smile towards Maia, he was quick to open the door and disappear down the corridor.

'God I'm absolutely whacked. Haven't been out riding for months,' John muttered as he fixed his dinner shirt for the night, 'But did you see some of the gentlemen who are staying? Quite a treat for the ladies.'

Simon chuckled as he brushed over his jacket. 'Indeed my lord. The maids were in a huddle of gossip over luncheon. Should be entertaining for them while they stay here.'

'Well that's good they deserve it once in a while. Graves will be looking after most of them though, hope he doesn't mind.'

'You know Graves, he has to have a grumble about everything—' Simon gasped sharply as pain shot through his leg, John turning immediately to him.

'Are you alright Riley?'

'Of course m'lord,' Simon was quick to recover, moving quickly to John's side to assist him putting on his new dinner jacket.

Johnny whistled a tune as he made his way down the stairs, placing an empty tray in the kitchens. Mrs Patmore gave him a glare but smiled, 'Be careful Johnny boy! If Mr Garrick hears you, he'll have you polishing silver again.'

He cringed at the very idea, remembering the last time he had to sit in the servant's hall alone facing a long line of silver items that needed polishing.

'I'd rather not think 'bout that. Ya ken where I can find Mr Riley? Lordship sent me to find him.'

'Oh, he might be in the boot room? I saw him in there just after luncheon!'

Johnny gave the woman a wink, smiling as she just shook her head at him before making his way through the halls, this time humming a tune.

Opening the door to the boot room, he stopped in his tracks. In the corner of the room was Simon, sweat glistening on his forehead, face scrunched up in discomfort, clutching his leg in what looked like agony.

'What the bloody hell-Simon?'

The man immediately straightened up, wiping his forehead. 'Nothing just a bit stiff is all.' But as he tried to get to his feet, he failed, unable to hold his weight up before sitting back down.

'Keep an eye on Simon, won't you?' John said as Johnny placed the tea down in the sitting room.

'Ye lordship?' He said, quickly turning to him as he sat at his desk writing.

'He's acting a bit off. I asked him about it but you know how Simon is.'

Johnny chuckled. 'We all know how Simon is my lord. Stubborn as an ox if there ever was one.'

John stood to his feet with a small smile, clapping him on the shoulder. 'See to it will you?'

Thinking back on his Captain's words, Johnny shook his head, quickly shutting the door behind him. He rushed to Simon's side, looking down at him with a firm expression.

'Dinna ken ye Simon, yer hiding somethin'. And ye and I won't be leavin' till ye tell me what's going on.'

You once again found yourself in the servant's hall with some of the other staff, this time reading through one of the many books you still hadn't finished yet.

Just as you were getting the good parts, the rush of incoming footsteps caught your attention, turning to see an out of breath Johnny leaning in the doorway.

'Lass! ye gotta come now. And we'll probably need the medical box.'

You chuckled. 'Having another problem with his lordship's tail coats Johnny? You know I can't help with that.'

As you went to turn away, Johnny leant into you, whispering fast into your ear. 'It's Simon.'

Looking at him again, and by the worry written across his face, you knew it was urgent. Immediately you ran upstairs, grabbing the box before meeting Johnny at the base of the stairs. He took your hand and tugged you along the corridor into the boot room where he shut the door.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Mr Riley in the corner sitting on a box, sweating profusely, leaning against the wall tiredly.

'My God, what happened to him, Johnny?' You asked, kneeling at his side, placing a hand on his knee. His eyes opened, glancing towards you before gripping your hand tightly. Almost too painfully.

'Ye've got to help 'im lass please,' Johnny said, standing behind you. 'He's not in a good way and was like this when I found 'im!'

You turned back towards Mr Riley in concern. 'Does this have something to do with this morning? When you were in pain?'

He was silent, looking anywhere but at you.

'Stop being so bloody proud and show her!' Johnny muttered abruptly, now starting to get worked up. You pressed a hand to Johnny's arm to calm him briefly.

'Please Mr Riley, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's happened.'

He finally looked down at you again, heaving a heavy sigh. 'I hope you have a strong stomach Miss.'

Leaning down, he began to roll up the leg of his trousers, revealing a tightened metal contraption encompassing his leg, from his foot to below his knee. Dried blood encircled the metal rigs that dug into his skin, skin scabbing and yellowing from the wounds.

You couldn't help but gasp, tears filling your eyes as you covered your mouth. 'Oh ... my God.'

Mr Riley looked away, shamefully, his own eyes misty. Calming yourself, you gently gripped his wrist, thumb caressing the back of his hand comfortingly before getting to work.

Johnny assisted in getting the metal contraption off his leg, and you quickly started patching him up. Gently you cleaned up the bloodied wounds carefully, apologizing when he flinched or hissed in pain. You wrapped the bandages around his leg, securing it with a pin.

You helped Mr Riley to his feet, noticing how he leant his weight onto his stronger leg. Glancing at the contraption, you realised it had to have been the fall Graves caused. You could count how many times that terrible man sabotaged so many people's lives just for his own ego. It made you furious.

'We need to get rid of this. Now.'

'Watch your step,' You said as you stepped over fallen tree branches and stones, Mr Riley following close behind you.

Johnny had stayed behind at the house to cover for you both while you set off towards the back of the estate.

You had remembered when you had chaperoned Lady Mary and her sisters around the gardens when you first arrived. That included the lakeside, not many visited the area due to it being closer to marshland than a garden, and the possibility of falling in. But you found peace there and hoped that maybe Mr Riley would.

So here you were, now leading him off the path towards the river, the metal contraption wrapped in cloth under your arm. Mr Riley had tried to take it from you but you refused. The least you could do was carry some of his pain.

A squeak left you as you slipped in the mud, a strong hand gripping your arm and pulling you close. You looked up at Mr Riley whose eyes were wide in shock, your chest pressed to his.

'You alrigh' love?'

'Yes, thank you,' You nodded, straightening yourself up, 'We should get on.'

The grip and warmth of his hand didn't leave until you found the planks leading out towards the riverside. Skin still tingling from his touch even beneath all the layers of your clothes.

Finally you reached the edge of the small pier, pulling the cloth free from the contraption. Handing it over to Mr Riley, you noticed him ready to toss it immediately but you pressed a hand to his shoulder.

'You don't think you should say something?' You asked with a small smile.

He turned to you, his chuckle muffled behind the metal mask, questioning, 'What? Like good riddance?'

You giggled, rolling your eyes. 'Yes but ... also perhaps a promise?'

Mr Riley sighed, the lines around his eyes creased, as if he was smiling. 'Very well. I promise to never try to cure myself again, and continue to be the butt of every joke and will never mind them!'

You glare at him, taking a step closer to him. 'We all carry scars, Mr Riley. Never forget we all do in some shape or form. No matter how we earn them, you should be proud and wear them without shame.'

For a moment he was silent, eyes trailing down your body, as if searching for said scars. He gave you a nod. 'I'll try to. That at least I promise.'

He gripped the end of the limp corrector, and tossed it straight into the water, hearing you yell as it splashed into the water. 'Good riddance!'

Mr RIley chuckled as you gave a small round of applause, before falling silent as you watched it disappear into the murky depths below.

'Well, we should be heading back,' He said before turning back but quickly noticed you remained firmly rooted to where you stood.

'Why did you get that thing Mr Riley?' You said as you turned back to him, observing him as he came to your side once more, 'You are a better man than Graves or anyone else who dares to get on your bad side. You should never let their words poison you.'

Simon felt his heart leap at your words. No one had ever made him feel this way. It was quite foreign, and yet the warmth that filled his chest had him addicted.

He stepped closer to you. 'I was worried ... about what others would think, especially you.'

'Wha-Me?' You said in shock.

'Yes. I don't care for the thoughts of others, let alone Graves. He's nothing but a cockroach beneath my boot.'

You couldn't help but cover your mouth as you snorted, laughing. You quickly fell silent though when he was just a mere step away from you, craning your neck back to look up at him. 'But you, Miss? You matter.'

For a moment you were shocked in silence. You'd never been spoken such gentle words, let alone by any man. But this wasn't just any man. You smiled up at him. 'Oh Mr Riley, you never have to worry about what I think. I don't care if you have a limp or the perfect walk. You have a kind heart, much more than you care to admit. And that's all that matters to me.'

His eyes were glued to yours, so much you barely noticed as his hand gripped yours gently, bringing it up towards his mask. The carved-out lips were cold against your skin, and yet it was the most loving touch you'd felt in years.

Call of Duty Masterlist A/N: Sorry for the delay been head down stressed during this week! Also Merry Christmas all! I was thinking of doing a Christmas special part but I don't wanna skip ahead in the story so just trying to balance this with angst and fluff. Taglist @lostintransist @teapartydreams