#love a concrete light source
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Screencap redraw of the best man in one piece
#yamato one piece#one piece#my art#crazy what some cel shading does to a mf goddamn#like this looks so much better than my usual art and I just know it’s that boldness#but I LIIIIIKE BLEEEEENDING#I mean the lighting also helps tbh#love a concrete light source#and an unusual light source#(I say while refusing to properly light it bc I should’ve added reds from the fire)#(listen ill get there)
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Angel. - sr x reader
Reader gets shot and Spencer is there to comfort her
content: fem reader, established relationship, angst/comfort, ambiguous ending, no use of y/n, takes place in 15x01-02
cw: canon compliant violence, blood, guns, dying (they're going to be fine dw)
wc: 966
an: Hey, so this is my first ever published Spencer fic, so I'm really nervous lol! This will get zero to no engagement and I'm accepting that now, but if ya'll want a part 2 I'm happy to oblige!! Enjoy lovelies <3
Part 2
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Everything happened so quickly, yet it felt like a millennia before I hit the ground–free falling through life and death in turn, the descent ending on the dingy floor of a parking garage. My vision cut in and out through the surges of white-hot agony that were coursing throughout my entire body, ears ringing.
I saw a blurry figure pile into a car, before peeling out of the parking space, kicking up dust as it raced out of the building. I tried to move to grab my gun that was lying a few feet away, but it felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on me, causing me to become prone and forcing me to accept the fate that was laid before me.
As I coughed up blood, I had the inexplicable urge to laugh. The irony, that this was the way I would go out–lying defenceless and helpless on the cold concrete, synthetic LED bulbs flickering incessantly above me.
The pain was becoming too unbearable, paralysing any coherent thoughts. There was one word that was repeated over and over again:
Spencer.
I didn't know if it was a prayer to some higher being, or merely a mantra, but it was the only single word I could make out in the haze of my dying mind. I wished I was the one with the eidetic memory, so that I could at least see his face one last time.
Blood pooled steadily around me as it left my body, never to return. The ringing in my ears steadily grew louder while the garage was dead silent, besides for the wet sounds of me choking on my own blood.
The bitter silence was cut off by the frantic shouting of a name. My name. The person neared, skidding to a halt and dropping to their knees beside me. The blurry figure hovered over me, obscuring the too-bright lights from view.
They came into partial focus, and I choked out a sob when I realised my pathetic prayers had been answered. Spencer was here. He shushed me soothingly, stroking my hair with shaking hands. "It's okay, baby. You're gonna be okay, okay?" He cradled my cheeks with his hands, trying in vain to wipe the blood from my face with his own bloodied hands. I sobbed again, squeezing my eyes shut.
"No, no, no, no," Spencer chanted, "Keep your eyes open, love, please. Look at me," He pleaded, gently shaking me so that I would open my eyes again. They landed on his face, screwed up in worry and pain. I vaguely wondered if he was hurt, if that's why he looked as though he too was in agony.
My eyes studied his face as best as they could, mapping out every detail, desperate to memorise it. They landed where they–without fail–always did. His eyes stared back with tears, frantic and pleading. I would gladly study these eyes for hours on end–and I did–so much so that he would often make fun of me for the incessant staring.
It didn't stop me though, not while those deep brown eyes with the ring of pure gold in the centre were there for me to look at. That's where my gaze now rested, on those gorgeous, breathtaking eyes.
"Spencer." My voice was foreign to me–shaky and so unbelievably small. "You- you came." I strangled out. He nodded, pushing my hair back off of my face.
"I'm here, baby. I'm here." His voice cracked and trailed off. He never let go of me as he radioed in, asking for an immediate ambulance. I didn't hear the response. Spencer carefully repositioned me, laying my head and shoulders in his lap as he searched for the source of the bleeding.
I gazed numbly up at Spencer, the lights causing a halo around his head with his messy curls. I thought that it was fitting. By all accounts he was an angel. My angel. I let out a shaky and ragged breath. How many more of those would I have? I could most likely count them with one hand.
Spencer stopped his quick search when he found what he was looking for, immediately putting pressure on the wound. I cried out at the added agony. "I know, I know, I know. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry." He kept chanting, cradling my head with his free hand. I whimper in pain.
"Spencer?" I breathed out, voice wobbling. He stroked my cheek lovingly, chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Yes?"
My face crumpled in pain. "It hurts."
He drew in a sharp, pained breath. "I know, baby, I know." He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "Help's coming, okay? Hang in there, love." Another shaky breath. "Stay with me." His sentence tapered off to a barely audible volume, bloodied hand shaking violently on my face, tears dripping down his cheeks. "Please."
I started coughing again, more blood spraying over my face, some of it even ending up on Spencer's. It made me disproportionately angry–that his face was tainted with my dying blood. I wished I could wipe it off, but I didn't have the strength to lift my arm.
My vision swam as I started to lose what was left of my consciousness as what felt like the last of my blood left my body. My eyes fluttered closed.
"No, no, no, hey!" Spencer gently tapped my cheek. "Don't close your eyes. Stay awake until the ambulance arrives, please," He begged, but my lids are incredibly heavy.
"I-I feel–," I sucked in a shallow breath. "So cold."
He bundled me tighter against him, trying to sooth me with whispered comforting words. The last thing I remembered before I slipped out of consciousness was Spencer's calming voice and the sound of approaching sirens.
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Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x
Masterlist ౨ৎ
#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x self insert#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid criminal minds
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⠀ 𝗝.𝗪𝗪 ━ the vampire i loved 。
you fell asleep reading your all time favorite fantasy book, wishing you were born in its universe. when you wake up, you realize you're no longer in your bedroom.
𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: smut included! biting, mentions of blood and blood sucking, teasing, overstimulating, pet names, mirror fucking, multiple rounds, unprotected sex.
⟢ vampire!wonwoo x collegestudent!reader ⠀⠀—⠀⠀𝗪𝗖: 2,656
read part two here.
your jaw dropped at the gut-wrenching ending of the book you had borrowed from your friend. the whole novel had your toes curling and kept your underwear wet, how could the ending be the total opposite of the lewd feeling you once had? tears formed at the corner of your eyes, threatening to drop as you processed the death of your favorite character. you understood that the author had to make the ending as memorable as the plot was, but you never knew, or even thought they could do such a terrible thing to the character everyone loved.
you had been reading this series for a few years now, and you had finally finished it. you thanked the lord and remained grateful to your friend for having and allowing you to borrow the last book. being a college student, you barely had money to feed yourself and the job market was really demanding, so how the heck would you be able to afford any of your hobbies?
you closed the book to avoid staining it with your tears and sunk into your bed, sadness taking over your body. you had made up a whole story of your own with him; you were both married and lived in a castle hidden in the depths of a large forest with two black cats but the author killing him off just crushed all your dreams.
he was only a character, sure, but he awakened your love for vampires and the desire to be one yourself, you couldn’t just let that go. you stared at the poster on the ceiling, his beautiful face causing you to get more consumed by your sadness. with a sigh escaping your lips, you decided to go to bed, actually eager to fix your sleep schedule, which will probably last till you obsess over a new book.
awokened by the sound of chirping birds and a cold breeze coming in contact with your skin, you slowly opened your eyes, confused as your gaze fell upon trees and not the man who haunted your dreams. you sat up, the leaves beneath you rubbing together to create a noise, which was one of the two sounds that could be heard in the forest you somehow ended up in.
“what the fuck...” you whispered, standing up from the concrete floor as you looked around, the path looking a little too familiar. you couldn’t exactly recall where you had seen or heard of it, but you knew where it led and you began walking down it. using your hands to cover your exposed arms, you rubbed them, eager to feel warm.
the scenery was one you had never seen before. trees with little to no leaves and crows sitting on their branches hovered over you and the environment was completely dull, submerged in the heavy fog. in the distance, you could see a lantern, which was the first and only source of light you had seen since you magically teleported into this alternative universe.
as you walked into the depths of the forest, the lanterns multiplied, it was like they were leading the way, lighting up one by one. you found yourself fascinated in front of what could only be explained by witchcraft, no modern science would be able to replicate something like this.
soon enough, you saw something peeking above the trees, with the silhouette it created, you assumed it was a castle, or at least a building similar to one. as you approached it, you were faced with a type of architecture you would love to see more of; vertical proportions, pointed arches, external buttressing, asymmetry and long stained-glass windows.
you were very much fond of the gothic style it had and in awe of seeing right in front of your eyes. you had seen similar buildings before, but none compared to the originals. you snapped out of your thoughts and decided to walk in, certain you were drawn here for a reason.
as you pushed open the door, you peaked inside, seeing nothing but darkness, which you were never afraid of up until now. the emptiness of the room before you sent chills down your spine, and you could sense a presence in there, which made you freeze in place, wondering if you should step in. perhaps you had made the wrong choice by following those lanterns.
“come in.” a deep voice echoed from across the room, causing you to flinch and turn your head towards the direction of the sound. not wanting to anger whomever invited you in, unsure what they were capable of, you did as told and shut the door behind you.
a light in the middle of the room suddenly turned on, it was dim but it sufficed to see most of the furnitures scattered around the room, some of them covered with a white cloth. however, that was the least of your concerns, your eyes wandered around the room, adjusting to the areas that remained in the darkness in hopes of finding a human silhouette, though you doubted anything in here would share that in common.
suddenly, you felt a strong presence behind you, and before you could do anything, you felt yourself getting embraced. “i’ve been waiting for you.” the manly voice spoke once more before its owner sniffed you, buring his head in your neck and licking your skin.
you weren’t so sure how to feel about everything that had happened in the past few seconds. a random man had his arms wrapped around you, kept going on about how much he’s been waiting for you, and constantly sniffed your neck like your scent was enchanting him.
“okay... who are you?” you questioned, trying to break away from his grasp, which only grew tighter the more you fought it off. at your question, the man turned you around so you could see his face, and you almost fell on your knees as you did so.
“...won..wonwoo?” you screamed, pinching yourself to make sure you were not dreaming. “how the fuck are you still alive after getting killed off? and how the hell am i even talking to you right now? you’re a god damn character in a stupid book.”
“my love, if i was only a character, would i be able to do this?” he asked, gently placing his right hand on your back, using his strength to pull you in close, then placed his left hand on your chin, lifting it up as he looked into your eyes before planting a soft kiss on your lips.
you were quick to wrap your arms around his neck, your sudden move causing him to smirk and bite your lip. you slightly opened your mouth, which was enough for him to slip his tongue in, intertwining it with yours. you would be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on, one of your biggest fantasies was happening and you weren’t even sure if it was real.
the man slid his hand underneath your silk buttoned up shirt, the coldness of his touch made you flinch, but it was quickly replaced with pleasure when he began squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples. you were still in your pajamas, so you didn’t have any underwear on, which made everything easily accessible for him.
you moaned in his mouth, wanting more than his touch. you had been craving this man since you set your eyes on the book cover, desperately wishing he was real, wishing he would touch every single part of your body with his mouth, fingers and his cock. speaking of, you wondered if he was as big as the author described.
“wo..wonwoo plea..please...” you managed to let out, your voice muffled in the heated make out session you both had going on. he pulled away from the kiss and in a second, he removed your shirt, exposing your uncovered breasts, which he stared at whilst biting his lips. “they’re so beautiful.” he spoke, a red tint appearing on your cheeks as you slowly slipped out of your shorts, completely denuded before him.
he licked his lips at the sight of your naked body, his gaze trailing from up to down, taking in the view of your perky breasts, the goosebumps that formed on your body due to the sudden change of temperature, your thighs touching eachother, and your swollen cunt that wanted nothing but him. “touch yourself.” he commanded, and you laid down on what you assumed was a sofa, spreading your legs wide for him to see.
you put two fingers in your mouth, sucking them before your inserted them in your pussy, pulling them in and out as fast as you could. your free hand was on your breast, squeezing it as you imagined it was him. you threw your head backwards, breaking the eye contact you held with him, as you moved faster, your moans and the sweet noise of your wet cunt took over the room. he wished your sounds reached him directly, so he could be the only one able to hear them.
as he watched you, he couldn’t help but want to touch himself as well. he threw his clothes off his body and took his hardened cock in his right hand, stroking it alongside your constant moans. “wonwoo....” you cried out, literally going insane from lacking his touch.
as you moaned out his name, he walked over to you and shoved his cock in your mouth. your eyes widened at his length but that didn’t stop you from wanting to take him fully. the hand you used to massage your chest was now wrapped around his cock, and you were moving your head back and forth to please him, all while looking into his eyes.
his moans sounded so sweet. it wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely enough to make you cum. as you did, he began throatfucking you, wanting to reach his climax as well. “fuck..you feel so good.” he mumbled, a loud groan escaping his mouth as he cummed into yours.
after you swallowed his seeds, you got on your knees and kissed him, his hand reaching forward to grab your ass, lifting you up. as you wrapped your legs around him, melting underneath his touch, he sat on the sofa and you began grinding his cock, letting out soft moans. you buried your fingers in his hair, and slowly slid his cock in. “oh my god.” you uttered, your words followed by a loud moan as his length made it all the way in.
you began moving, taking it a step at a time to make it enjoyable for the both of you. as you moved faster, he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts whilst resting his hands on your hips. he felt too good and you enjoyed yourself way too much. riding his dick felt like heaven and his obsession with your body sent you straight to paradise. he made sure to touch you everywhere and it excited you even more. some of the things he did were very specific, it was like he had been reading you and knew all of your turn ons.
“i..i’m so close...” you breathed out, and he used a finger to draw circles your clit. the sudden overstimulation caused you to grab his shoulders and bury your head on his chest, jumping faster on his cock until you reached your high and eventually released.
“shall we go upstairs?” he questioned, lifting you up as you nodded your head, a little shocked at his ability to still want to continue. he had a lot of stamina, and you adored it.
he laid you down on the bed, turning you on your stomach so you could face the mirror right in front of the both of you. honestly, you had never been in this kind of situation before, and staring at yourself while getting fucked was something you were definitely willing to try, perhaps it could awaken something in you, just like the man playing with your clit started your attraction to vampires.
“wonwoo, do you have fangs?” you questioned, looking at him through the glass. he truly was pretty, you could stare at him all day. “indeed i do, why do you ask?” he said, staring back at you as he gestured for you to get on all fours, and you did as he demanded.
“i would l—” you began, instantly getting cut off as he continually licked your cunt, those small innocent licks turning into him completely getting drowned in your pussy juice. he sucked and swallowed, hungry for more. eating you out and creating circles on your clit weren’t enough, he had to slid in his tongue and eat you from inside. he wanted to devour you completely, your taste was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough of it.
you never thought seeing your cum on his face would turn you on so much, but it did. he swallowed the parts he could and cleaned the rest off with a tissue, which he had a box of in his room for whatever reason you did not wish to know, it was never mentioned in the book.
soon enough, he aligned his cock with your cunt, gently rubbing your clit with his tip. you couldn’t stand the teasing, you wanted to feel him inside you, now. it did not take him long to realize you were needy, you had been moving your hips along with his cock, signaling that you were ready for him.
he smirked before shoving his cock into your cunt, a long sigh escaping your mouth as you tightly gripped the sheets. he slowly began thrusting into you, stretching your insides so his cock could fully fit in. when he felt you clench around him, he moved faster, pounding your beautiful pussy and taking in your moans.
he grabbed you by the hair and lifted your head, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. “watch how slutty you look.” he uttered with no response. you were too busy getting rawdogged and fucked with no remorse to pay attention to his words. your eyes rolled back and your back arched as he slammed his cock against your walls with force and speed, filling up all of your needs and darkest desires.
“w..wonwoo...nhh...” you whined, slowly reaching your climax, your body trembling from the amount of pleasure you were feeling. it was too much for your head to handle but not too much for your body who yearned for more than just a dildo to bear.
the man spinned you around, shoving his cock as deep as he could and placing his mouth in your neck, sucking your skin to place his mark. his fangs made their appearance, and though you couldn’t see them, you could definitely feel them on your skin. he licked your neck before biting it, sucking your blood that was to be mixed with his.
he placed his hands on your hips, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he was close. “cum with me baby.” he seductively whispered in your ear, his words followed by a moan you could die to hear. you placed your hands on his shoulders, your grip tightened and your head throwed back as you came on his cock and him in you.
you breathed out loud, not able to contain yourself. you were drained and sure you would never be satisfied by anything less than what he did to you. the man kissed you on your forehead and laid next to you, pulling you into an embrace.
you woke up feeling sore, your head spinning and eyesight blurry. as you were able to see clearly, you had been faced with the same poster you sticked on your ceiling, a sigh of disappointment escaped your lips as you realized it was all a dream.
.... or was it?
dividers by @/cafekitsune and @/saradika-graphics this was NOT proofread, i absolutely hate reading my own shit, and the ending was rushed, please bear with me!
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ copyright © 2024 zomyoo, all rights reserved
#ᝰ 𝖅omwrites ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ#seventeen smut#seventeenff#seventeen fanfic#wonwoo#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo seventeen#wonwoo smut#wonwoo fanfic#vampire au#kpop fanfic#kpop#kpop smut
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Ghostface x Deaf!Reader
you had a heartbeat like no other tw’s: like one bad word, stalking, danny being danny
Danny would never get tired of the thrilling thrum of his prey’s heart whenever he closed in on them.
The Entity allowed him—and all other killers—the enticing privilege of hearing a survivor’s quickening pulse the moment he came within striking range of his targets. It was like the low hum of a bass that reverberated in his own sternum, lighting every cell on fire with a tingling sensation. It was addicting.
And it never got old.
Here you were, his new obsession: sweating profusely, grimy with dirt and grease, working tirelessly—or was that anxiety Danny smelled? probably both—to repair a generator he sunk his boot in minutes before to aggravate the progress of his puny victims. And, like a moth to the flame, you flew right into his trap. If Danny could purr, he would be doing so right now.
Covered by the shadows, you suspected nothing, until the costume-clad predator took one, tiny step forward, and immediately the air shifted.
Electricity shot up inside of Danny as your head and heart jolted, your chin swiveling left and right to find the source of impending doom within the rubble. Like a drug, your heartbeat had Danny’s brain doing somersaults and his body shivering in anticipation, and instinctively he flexed his fingers around the concrete he hid behind. He wanted to get closer.
Stealthily, he used the broken building to his advantage; creeping around corners and blending with the shadows until he was a ghost away from your presence. Upon closer review, Danny observed the round, flesh-colored objects obstructing your ears, causing his head to tilt. Were you hard of hearing?
A terrible, crude grin stretched behind his mask. Even better.
Like a cat, Danny wordlessly crept behind you until he could reach out and barely scrape the back of your nape with the tips of his leather fingers, earning a sharp gasp and full-body shudder from you. The goosebumps were hard to miss. Danny chortled.
You immediately whipped around, giving Danny full view of your face. Wide, petrified eyes and a gaping mouth pulled taut in fear; hair disheveled from the quick movement, strands sticking to your forehead from perspiration. Delicious pheromones wafted through the mask into Danny’s nostrils, and he inhaled deeply the scent of terror like it was oxygen. It almost gave him a buzz, but that’s not what he came closer for.
Knife withdrawn, Danny traced it along the floor towards you, making sure you felt the vibrations as much as he heard the scratching. He trailed it up your arm and across your clavicle until the blade was right against your throat, making sure to press just hard enough so that when you had to swallow, you would feel the promise of death.
“Ah,” Danny all but sighed as he took in your horrified state, loving how still you were forced to be. Drastically, his mood shifted to one of seriousness, which you somehow picked up on as he felt your pulse spike. “You,” Danny spoke as he pointed an index finger in your face, fluidly shifting his hand until his thumb and pinky were extended in an upside down y-shape, “stay still. Understand?”
Careful not to aggravate the knife biting into your skin, you curtly nodded, blinking owlishly up at the killer. Pleased, Danny smirked before leaning his head down, placing an ear over your chest, and—ah. There it was.
Dump, da dump, da dump dump dump.
Like music to his ears.
At a loss for, well, anything, you remained rigid, fearing for what might happen if you moved even an inch. Sweat continued to build on your temple until it ran down your face, sliding off of your cheek and onto your pants. Ghostface didn’t seem to mind this. If anything, he cuddled even closer, the movement causing your heart rate to spike.
Ghostface groaned, a noise you felt bubble from his throat and ripple through your chest until it popped into a hot flush in your face, making you extremely uncomfortable. Was he going to kill you or smother you to death?
The pressure at your throat increased, and you decided he would do both.
Taking a few more minutes to relish in your rapid heartbeat, Danny sighed, knowing this precious little moment would come to an end.
But that meant killing you. So, it was a win-win, really.
As he pulled away, Danny made eye contact with your wild gaze, something that he knew he shouldn’t do. The pleading, teary-eyed look you had had his heart cartwheeling all over again—possibly even moreso than the enriching thrum of your heart. The next time he had his camera, Danny would make sure to snap a relic of it. Sighing, he sat back on his haunches.
“Fine,” He hissed, huffy and dramatic, “you get three minutes to run. Capeesh?”
When you didn’t reply, Danny rolled his eyes from beneath the scream he wore and raised both hands (knife tucked beneath his thumb), striking a finger down for every second you had remaining to get your ass up and run.
Acknowledgement flashed in your eyes, and quickly you scrambled to your feet, knocking your ribs into the generator on your way out. The hiss you made makes Danny chuckle, and slowly he gets up without finishing the countdown. How naive of you to trust him; he was a killer, after all.
The sound of your terrified heartbeat follows you out the door just as Danny does, ears tuned to the enthralling thumping that had him closing his eyes. He would never get tired of this.
#ghostface x reader#dbd x reader#danny johnson x reader#dead by daylight x reader#i headcanon danny doesnt have his camera some rounds bc either he or a survivor breaks it lol
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CUDDLES WITH JASON. HE HAD A NIGHTMARE AND READER CUDDLES HIM BACK TO THE SLEEP. SCRATCHES HIS SCALP AND SHIT. THIS MAN DESERVES SOFTNESS. Much Love💕
Thank you!!! I hope you enjoy this! ❤️
—
Time written - 5:53 p.m
—
You wouldn’t call yourself a heavy or light sleeper, but every time you heard a strange, crooked gasp in the dead of night, you knew Jason was awake.
It’s quick and brash, as if choking on air, followed by a short series of gasps and harsh, rapid panting.
Fresh, clean air fills his lungs, not the stuffy, stale oxygen of a silk lined coffin, putrid with the stench of wet dirt; fresh flowers, and slightest tinge of formaldehyde.
“Jay?” The sweet serenity of your voice alerts him of your existence, of the reality of him not buried six feet underground.
Long before they filled up fresh graves with concrete.
His head shifts, tired teal eyes blown wide open with unidentified levels of panic.
Despite the darkness, it’s not enough for him to cower and hide from the shame of your worried gaze on him.
The blankets pool over his lap once he abruptly sits up, running hand through his sleep tussled locks. His muscles tremble like he’d run a marathon, or crawled out of a grave with his own two hands. If the lights were on, he’d believe he still have patches of dirt and grass clinging underneath his broken fingernails.
Before you, he wouldn’t go back to sleep so easily. He’d go out for any sort of distraction; mainly consisting of on his gear for a rooftop ghost chase. Anything to distract him from the confines of his mental prison when his darkest fears erupted into his dreams.
That was, until soft fingers brush along his skin, your hand comfortably wrapping around his broad forearm. You lean yourself against his shoulder, bare skin plush as you comfort him with whispers of consolation.
“M’sorry. M’so sorry,” He pants out with his head hung low, voice involuntarily trembling as he struggles to comprehend your soft words.
Even in his distress, he apologized for what he believes were his mistakes. Disturbing you of your sleep, causing a scene.
He hated this vulnerability, wanting to chase it out of his mind by hundreds of distractions, but he couldn’t.
Jason didn’t want to leave you, even if you’d allow it. You’d wait for him, he didn’t want that.
Another set of fingers trail behind his neck, slipping up to cradle his head close. He has no action over his body now, trembling nerves complying with your gentle touch.
“Shh, it’s okay.” You whisper against his cheek, keeping your arms secure about him as best as you could. “You’re alright, Jason. Its just us, in our home. Our anniversary was four hours ago, remember?”
His head settles down on your shoulder, brows heavily furrowed in distress despite his faint smile at the comment. He always told you to never hold in your tears, but always felt guilty when it came to releasing his. It ached deep in his throat; molten hot and bright red, nearly as painful as being facially branded all those years ago.
It took months of patience for you to learn his story, his suffering, his trauma. Any of it could’ve been the source of his nightmares, but why seek through the aches of the past? No good could come of it, their was no need.
Gentle hands guide him back to lay down, some of his body settling over yours. His head rests along your chest after you tug the blankets back over your bare bodies, encasing you both in a warm bubble of comfort.
Your heartbeat eased his troubled thoughts into pure silence, soothing his headache in seconds. Supple skin pressed against his faintly stubbled cheek, carrying a hint of sweet fragrance from your lotion.
“You okay?” You question, keeping as calm as possible for his sake. You never minded coming to his aid, never minding being his shoulder to cry on, or his body to embrace when he felt alone.
“Mhm.” Came his weak reply.
Your fingers lightly scratch along his scalp shortly after such a limited response, leaving him in utter heaven from such intimate, soothing motions.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“No.” His sleep induce rasp permeated his tone, too comfortable to even maneuver the muscles in his mouth. Every nerve in his body melted, making him putty in your hands.
“Okay.” You didn’t pry, only resuming the Lord’s divine work of your fingers combing through Jason’s hair.
A small hum rumbles deeply from his throat, his hands shuffling under soft sheets to caress your body. Arms slipping underneath your back, he cradles you like a pillow, keeping himself secured to your smaller frame.
Soft, honeysuckle lips kiss along his forehead, solidifying the facts of his comfort, his safety. He was safe; he was alive, he was here, right where he needed to be.
If the moon shined her rays just a little brighter through the cracks of the curtains, you’d be blessed with the sight of dilated pupils swallowing up those pretty blue irises. Jason adoringly staring into the distance towards the bedroom wall, eyes slowly lulled closed behind thick lashes.
His only regret was falling asleep way too soon, wanting to experience this slice of heaven just a little bit longer.
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x fem!reader#dc jason todd#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x female!reader#jason todd dc#I love these domestic stuff
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Blue hair, blue eyes, blue lights
Jinx x fem!reader / modern AU
summary: The chances of a blue-haired girl being chased by the cops and hopping in my car, simply yelling “Drive!” are low, but never zero.
author’s note: It’s my first time publishing a Jinx one-shot of mine, I hope you enjoy! This is a relatively new blog, so if anyone wants to become mutuals I’m definitely open to the idea! :)
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Fourteen days.
A mere two weeks stand between me and move-in day for my freshman year of college. In other words, summer break is slowly coming to an end, and I’ve done fuck all to make it memorable.
I can feel life passing me by as I watch like a bystander. Usually, the clock is my enemy—a constant reminder of my youth running out, and, shit, I’m too young to feel that way. This time, it serves as a way to free me from the shackles of the evening shift as a front desk worker at our local gym.
The clock strikes midnight, and, like a modern-day Cinderella, I jump up from my seat and make a beeline for the exit, hurriedly clocking out. I simultaneously greet and say goodbye to the night shift going in, already halfway through the small yet relatively empty parking lot. The smell of sweaty ‘gym bros’ is long forgotten as the breeze engulfs me, my dirty sneakers thudding on the concrete. The rust on my beat-up jeep shines in the moonlight as I approach—so seductive, I snicker to myself. I toss my duffel bag in the trunk, hop behind the wheel, and start the engine. I take this moment to commence my connect-phone-to-car-or-die-trying mission and thank the universe for its successful outcome. I browse a bit through the plethora of playlists before settling on the usual one, the sound of Arctic Monkeys filling the space as I leave the parking lot.
I don’t want to go home—not yet, at least—so I settle for a late-night drive. The cookie-cutter, upper-class houses pass me by as I mindlessly cruise through the clean streets—a stark contrast to my neighborhood, where you either learn to stick up for yourself or go home crying to your mama. A place where there is more sewage sludge than trees. A place where I grew up and one I learned to love.
In the midst of it all, I don’t notice the particularly nasty bump on the road that makes my song abruptly cut off. I take a right, pulling over in an alley with an annoyed groan as I resort to phase two, also known as connect-phone-back-to-car-before-I-impulsively-crash, of my initial mission. As I fiddle with the settings, showing my inner cheek no mercy as my teeth dig into their feast, a hissing and spritzing sound comes through my open window.
I think I’m imagining things at first, that post-shift fatigue surely getting the best of me, but I spot the source of the sound rather quickly: a figure, hidden almost out of sight between the fancy houses, switching between various colors of spray paint as she defaces the picture-perfect facade with her graffiti. The sheer speed of her actions makes it look like she’s juggling.
How do I know it’s a girl? Well, although she is wearing a hat to shield her face from any surveillance cameras, a neck warmer up to her nose, and a black, oversized tracksuit already covered in pink paint splotches, her disguise was blown the moment she decided to leave her blue, ankle-length, twin braids out. I twist my neck and reach over the dashboard to try and get a better look at her work. I can barely make out the shape of a green monkey’s face before moving on to the next element. ‘Get ji-’
My reading is interrupted by the sound of sirens piercing the air and blue lights illuminating the area. Instinctively, I turn my headlights off and duck, watching the girl as she hastily packs the cans into her backpack. I swear I can see her eyes twinkle with excitement as she takes one last glance at her—presumably—finished artwork and takes off running through the gardens. Her faint giggle reaches my ears, and a bewildered smile graces my features. I wanted fun, and now it’s right in front of me. I definitely couldn’t get a clearer sign than this.
I observe as one of the cops chases after her as the other drives away, seemingly trying to cut her off. Lightbulb moment. I put the car into gear and waste no time following them from the comfort of the dark alleys, reaching the mysterious girl first through the shortcuts. I catch her contemplating her next move and, without hesitation, quickly flash my high beams at her twice. This seems to grab her attention, and I signal for her to get in with a simple nod, tapping the car door as confirmation.
To my surprise, she actually runs over and hops in the backseat, her back lying flat as she takes a swift peek through the window, and holy shit, I didn’t think that she actually would.
“Drive!” she yells through her panting, and I do. I feel my heart beating wildly against my ribcage as the blue lights appear once again in my rearview mirror. Don’t fuck this up, I think before taking a sharp left. I hear her elated squeals as I visualize the district’s roads and plan the perfect getaway.
Right.
Right, once again.
Left.
Straight down the street.
Sharp right.
I can hear the sirens getting closer as I speed through the familiar routes. It doesn’t matter that I know this area like the back of my hand; the cops probably do, too. There is only one thing left to try, and, albeit risky, it should work. They hadn’t spotted my car yet, and we were quickly approaching a busy intersection—the perfect distraction.
The tires squeak as I harshly pull into an empty driveway, turning the engine off in hopes of blending in.
“What the hell are you doing?!” the blue-haired girl grumbles with brooding eyes. I don’t reply. Instead, I shush her as I grab her waist and roll her off the seat, pushing her into the legroom before ducking underneath the steering wheel. We fall silent, holding our breaths in as the police car passes us by. I watch as they get lost in the dense traffic, a sigh of relief escaping me as I throw my head back. I climb into my seat again and take a peek at the tagger in the back, confusion crossing my features as I watch her stuff her face with candy. My candy. “Hefty stash you got back there.” Her mouth twists at the sour taste of a Warhead she picked. She seems completely unfazed by this whole situation.
I notice that she had discarded her hat and neck warmer and take the opportunity to get a better look at her: blue eyes matching her hair, light freckles splattered across her straight nose and rosy cheeks, pouty lips, her dark and expressive brows… She truly is breathtaking. I feel a blush creep up my face as she climbs over the console, wiggling her way into the passenger seat. She takes her hoodie off, revealing her black tank top, and fuck me, she has tattoos.
She faces me with a curious look herself, seemingly analyzing me too. Her gaze is difficult to decipher as her eyes trail over my figure, and I stiffen. She shoots me a knowing smile before throwing her hands around my neck and placing a kiss on my cheek. “You’re a lifesaver, toots,” she muses into my ear. The pleasant smell of paint and bubble gum hits my nose making me lick my lips. “Name’s Jinx, by the way. Stands for Jinx,” she cackles to herself, drawing her lower lip between her teeth awaiting my introduction.
I blink a couple of times, realizing how silent I’ve been throughout this whole ordeal. I can get awkward, sure, but I’m not timid, so I muster up the courage and consciously relax, trying to project a nonchalant attitude. “I’m Y/N.” I shoot her a smile of my own.
“Y/N. Hmm…” Jinx gives an approving hum as she repeats after me, my name rolling off her tongue like honey. “What made you help little ol’ me?” New observation: she’s a teaser.
“I need some excitement in my life,” I answer truthfully and she perks up with a spark in her eyes.
“Toots, you’ve just made friends with the perfect candidate to help you with that.” Her giddy attitude returns as she beams at me.
“We’re friends, huh?” I tease at her choice of words, my eyebrows raised in a cocky manner.
“Sure we are! I feel like running from the cops together is the perfect bonding experience, don’t ya?” She gives me a once-over before her mouth curves into a smirk. “Unless you want to be more than friends. That could work, too.” She winks. Her straightforwardness should make me turn crimson, but instead, it makes my confidence grow. I give a low chuckle as I shake my head in disbelief.
“Tell you what,” I begin, starting the engine and trying to connect my phone back to the car for the third time already, “let me get you home safely, and we’ll see what tomorrow brings to our friendship. Deal?” I extend my hand toward her, and she ponders my proposition. I can practically see the cogs turning in her head, her facial expressions jumping from sour to doubtful, as if she were battling her thoughts before settling on a satisfied grin.
Her soft hand reaches mine in a princess handshake, and I try not to look at her manicured nails for too long. “Deal.” The blue-haired girl snatches the phone out of my hands, adding her number to my contact list and sending a quick text to herself. Just when I think she’s giving it back, she picks a song, and I hear Arabella playing through the speakers. How fitting.
As I leave the stranger’s driveway, I sense her shuffling in the passenger seat, throwing her legs out the window. She puts her head on my lap freely, toying with the colorful charms on my keychain. In the spur of the moment, I gingerly brush her bangs behind her ear, revealing her side profile. Her gaze catches mine, and I see her eyes soften before I turn mine on the road again.
Jinx tells me her address, and I realize how close to me she lives—the perfect circumstances. I feel her lightly bobbing her head to the music as her left cheek strokes my thigh, her fingers tracing mine as they sit on the gear stick. Her demeanor feels different from the badass tagger who willingly hopped in a stranger’s car. She looks peaceful and content now.
My shoulders slump in disappointment as I park outside her house. She clicks her tongue and lazily lifts her head from the comfort of my lap. She looks around the empty streets of her neighborhood and hums, her curious eyes now shifting to mine. As we take each other in, I can’t help but gravitate toward her—her presence feels almost intoxicating, and I don’t want to part ways just yet. To my surprise, she copies my actions. She’s so close I can feel her minty breath mingle with mine. Instinctively, my gaze drops to her lips as she tentatively licks them. I let out a faint sigh, and she slowly closes the distance. I can hear my heartbeat as I wait for our lips to meet.
But they never do. “I don’t kiss on a first date,” she murmurs in my ear, and my face flushes. Jinx pulls away as she flashes me a toothy grin, and before I can even react, she’s already skipping to her front door, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. Wha-? When did she grab her stuff? I stare in disbelief as she turns around, her braids flailing behind her. “Let’s see what tomorrow brings,” she teases and blows me a kiss before disappearing into the dark hallway of her home.
Fourteen days.
Give me two weeks to make her mine.
╰┈➤ sequel – ‘Fourteen days’
#arcane#arcane netflix#arcane league of legends#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx arcane#jinx league of legends#jinx arcane x reader#jinx x reader#jinx x fem!reader#jinx x female reader#jinx arcane x fem!reader#jinx arcane x female reader#jinx x f!reader#jinx x y/n#jinx x you#jinx arcane x y/n#jinx arcane x you#jinx league of legends x reader#lgbtq#female reader#modern au#alternate universe#meet ugly#is this enough tags
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Lullaby
Summary - Azriel's mate gives birth, and Azriel's life is forever changed.
Author's note- I love the great response from the one-shot Trust, so I decided to write another little oneshot about Azriel, Reader, and little Alec on the day he was born! Enjoy
Azriel knew he was making tracks on the floor at this point, but there was no way he was going to stop now. His mind was racing and his feet were carrying him. Back and forth, back and forth. His shadows were even trying to catch up with him as he was thinking all of the worst things that could happen. The sun's early misting rain was outside the tall windows of The House of Wind, the howling wind from the tall mountains was heard sightly while Azriel was going back and forth in front of the tall windows. On a good day, there would be a marvelous view of Velaris, but not today.
Not on the day his wife went into labor.
A strangled cry was heard behind the double doors, Azriel stopping at his pace as he heard your cry of pain and his eyes trained on the doors. It’s been at least three hours since Madja arrived, bag in hand, and abruptly pushed Azriel out the door without a second glance. Azriel wanted to be in there with you, to hold your hand and bring you comfort since he knew you were going to be in insane pain. But then again, he would have to go against Madja who has had more medical and healing experience than anyone he has known in his life. All he could now was wait, wait for either the best or the worst.
He made a plan for this day, when you were about 7 months along he wanted to make a concrete plan for the birth of his unborn child. Others must have thought of him as insane since he had a detailed itinerary from where the birth would take place and with whom in attendance. It was working out perfectly for him since he knew most of the Inner Circle would be a simple contact away if things went left. Of course, Azriel wouldn’t want to think about the scenario if things might go wrong, but he had to since not everything would go according to plan.
Cassian and Nesta were on their honeymoon up in the mountains, and Elaine and Lucien were in Autumn Court, which left Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx at the River House for some quality family time. You and Azriel were requested to housesit the House of Wind for Cassian and Nesta while they were away, you both not minding staying in the large home for a few days while you were getting slower and slower in your walking. As your stomach grew bigger by the day, Azriel’s worries for you were growing as well.
He knew the tales of Illyrian childbirth, how brutal it was, and how unmerciful it could be. Some children were born stillborn, their little bodies were not able to handle the birth. Many mothers died in childbirth, mainly because their bodies would give out from all the body would endure. Your own mother died giving birth to you, robbing you of your time and love from your birth mother. Azriel vowed to not let that happen to you, you were far too precious and too important for him to have taken away. Being the main source of light in his very dark world, you brought him bountiful happiness and never ending love that he felt as though he never deserved.
To think of a world without that love, without you, would kill Azriel.
Rhysand talked with him a week before, sensing that Azriel was beyond worried and scared for both you and your child. He sat Azriel down at your little home while you were napping, the pair of them sitting out on the front porch as Azriel was venting to him all that was on his mind. Although he knew it was his burden to hold onto, Rhysand was someone safe for him to talk to.
“You cannot let these thoughts overwhelm you, Az,” Rhysand said to him as he watched Azriel with concern, “Those demons and nightmares you’re having will kill you from the inside out if you let it. Your wife and child are going to be fine, and you will have your family,”
“How do you know?” Azriel asked in a mumble, Rhysand reaching over to tap his leg with his fingers. Azriel’s hazel eyes were met with violet ones, along with a soft smile.
“Because you and your wife, my cousin, deserve to have a family. You two deserve it more than anyone I know, and you will have it,”
Now you were in labor, your water breaking abruptly while you two were still sleeping in one of the guest rooms in The House of Wind, and Azriel could feel through the bond that you were struggling. He felt the pain, so intense and almost mind-numbing, as well as uncertainty and a hint of fear. It made him worry all the more, trying to communicate through the bond to you.
I’m here, baby. I’m here He thought through the bond, hoping and praying to The Cauldron that you were okay from the otherside of the double doors.
Azriel….It hurts so bad, Az! Your voice was in pain, almost struggling to speak as Azriel tried to remain calm.
The sudden sound of wings was heard right outside the window, Azriel’s head snapping over to see none other than Rhysand and Feyre bursting through the doors that lead to the balcony. He sighed in relief, seeing the High Lord and High Lady there for him and his wife.
“Azriel, thank The Cauldron! How is she doing?” Feyre asked, but another blood-curdling scream was heard from the room where you were in. This scream was brutal, almost like torture. Azriel squinted at the sound, it was almost painful for him too. All three of them look, Azriel’s face growing pale as Rhysand clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Let’s get you a drink,” he urged Azriel, about to pull him away and distract him when another cry was heard. A new cry, smaller and yet distinct. It made everyone in the room freeze in shock, Azriel’s eyes went wide as he was staring at the doors.
It was the sound of a newborn baby.
Azriel’s heart was suddenly beating so fast that he felt it against his chest in a dull ache. His hands were shaking and felt beyond clammy as the newborn cry was echoing from the room, but to him, it was a beautiful sound. It was the sound of his child, coming into the world, was one of his new favorite sounds in the world.
“Cauldron..” Rhysand said in relief as one of the doors swung open abruptly.
“Shadowsinger, you better get in here!” It was Madja, and Azriel’s feet were moving before he realized. He was gliding over, that’s how fast he was going, and once he made it past the open door, he stopped in shock from the sight.
You were perched in the bed, bathed in sweat with your long thick hair in a braid that was over your shoulder and the nightgown you wore in plastered against your body as blankets were bunched against your stomach and covering you from the hips down. Towels were askew, some covered in blood, and others were perched in the massive tub of hot water that was near the bed. Azriel breathed in the scents of blood and sweat, seeing you faintly smile at him from the bed as Madja walked over to him with a bundle in her arms. His heart raced, his eyes were solely on the bundle that was wiggling.
“Here is your son,” Madja said to him as she placed the bundle in Azriel’s shaking arms. He lost his breath, looking at the small little being that was there and that was wiggling. Nothing else ceased to exist to him, nothing else was coming to his mind, and everything was blank and empty. All of his months of worry and wonder, of hope and uncertainty, were replaced by seeing the newborn.
His newborn. His son. Azriel had a son.
“You tend to him as I tend to your wife,” Madja said in a huff, walking away from Azriel before he could say anything to her. He tore his eyes away from his son to you, seeing you grimace a bit while Madja was digging through her bag that was on the nightstand. His concern grew.
“I-Is she alright?” He asked in a croak, about to walk over to you before Madja pulled out new herbs and tonics.
“Worn to the bone but healthy. You have a strong wife, Shadowinger, and your babe is just as strong as she is,” Madja explained as she mixed some herbs together with ease, “She’ll need to get clean and have plenty of rest, but nothing else to worry about.”
“Thank you, Madja,” you said in a breath as she handed you a concoction to drink. Azriel was relieved to know that you were safe and unharmed, feeling through the bond that you too were relieved and happy. His heart was filled from the sight of you alive, though he was interrupted by the gurgles and coos from his son. He tore his eyes from you back to your son.
He was so small in Azriel’s embrace, but he was instantly in love with the little boy. The tan skin, the dark mop of hair on his head, and the very small set of wings that were along the tiny backside. There was no blemish on the little one that Azriel could see, the round cheeks he had along with the eyelashes and the plump bell-shaped lips. Everything about this baby, this little being that was a mixture of Azriel and his mate, it was all perfect. Azriel never saw a more beautiful creature in his life, and he couldn’t help but feel fresh tears in his Spymaster orbs.
This moment was new etched in his mind, a massive and pure memory that he knew he would never forget in his lifetime. There were plenty of moments in his past, both good and bad, that he would remember from time to time. His softer memories with his mother, meeting Cassian and Rhysand for the first time, Seeing your blue eyes and falling in love with you, your first kiss together under the stars. Those memories were core to him, they helped him come out of the darkness and into the light that was always waiting for him.
And now, the new core memory of holding his newborn son would forever change him.
Azriel carefully traced his son’s cheek with one of his scarred fingers, seeing how instantly his son was calm and content from the touch of his father. It made Azriel’s heart soar, watching his son almost nuzzle into the touch with ease as Madja hummed and walked over to him with waiting hands.
“There, now let me have the babe and check him thoroughly. You tend to your wife and get her changed,” Madja instructed, Azriel reluctantly handing his son back over, “I’ll need to check his wings if they were damaged from the birth. But by the color of him and his cries, he seems to be healthy. “
With a heavy heart, Azriel moved away from his son and Madja, who walked over to the end of the bed that wasn’t messed with blankets. His eyes stayed on the child, though he moved over to you as you were waiting for him with an outstretched hand. Azriel took it, kissing the back of it and sighing in relief seeing color on your face and a grin to match.
“Thank Cauldron you’re alright,” he said in relief, sighing in your sweaty hair as he embraced you carefully on the bed. You held him close, breathing in his scent as he peppered your face with kisses and his tears hitting your cheeks, “I was thinking the worst…and I felt it in the bond,”
“It was worth it,” you sighed as he pulled away and watched you, “Every single amount of pain I felt was worth it…he was worth it all,”
You both heard the gurgles from your son, Madja checking his temperature and then looking over his limbs. Azriel could see the small wings that looked so fresh and new along the tan backside. They were so small, but he knew deep down that over time they would be massive and filled with strength.
Just like his parents.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you a shower,” Azriel urged as he helped you swing your legs over the side of the bed. With an arm along your backside, he helped you on your feet. You were still sore, though it was slowly melting away thanks to both the tonics from Madja and your own Illyrian strength. You were still taking your time to the bathroom that was attached to the room, the House instantly turned on the shower with the right temperature and pressure.
Azriel helped you strip down and eased you into the shower first before he stripped down and joined you. Although intimate, given the two of you bare and holding one another under the water, it felt more than that for you two. It felt like another chapter was unfolding for you both Azriel was washing you down with gentleness and care, another stepping stone in your life that you both would take together while he washed your hair with his fingers. You felt his love in his fingers and along his lips as he kissed your skin, showering you with affection for not only giving him a son but for also not leaving him alone in this world.
You were part of his soul, as he was part of yours.
Finally, after getting you cleaned and changed into fresh clothes thanks to the magic of the House, Azriel changed quickly back into his old clothes and ushered you back into the bedroom. The old sheets and towels were gone, fresh sheets were made on the bed with new fluffy pillows and the window was ajar to bring in the fresh air. Madja once again was holding your swaddled newborn, a big smile on her face.
“You have a healthy babe,” She said as she walked over to place him in your arms. You took him softly, seeing how he was blinking slowly to show the bright blue eyes that he inherited from you. Seeing him there, in your arms, after being inside of you for so many months, it was almost like a fever dream. But he was there, breathing in the same air as you, and you felt your heart grow bigger from the sight of your son.
“There’s nothing wrong with him?” Azriel asked as you were still watching your son, seeing his eyes blink again as his finger clenched and unclenched in a constant rhythm.
“Nothing out of the ordinary for an Illyrian babe. He’s small, but the lungs on him tell me he’ll be just fine,” Madja explained while he was packing her bag up. She then pointed at you with a singular finger, “You are to rest here for one night, I don’t wish for you to put more stress on your body. You can head to your home tomorrow after I come and do a follow-up. Drink the tonics I gave you for the pain and the lotion for your skin,” She paused, holding her bag in hand as she gave you and Azriel a soft smile, “You two have a strong son, I pray blessings from the Cauldron for a happy life with him,”
You both thanked her as she slipped out of the room, you heard her talk to Rhysand and Feyre outside your room as you sank back onto the bed with your son snuggling close to you. You looked over every inch of him, the way his hair was thick and already showing some waves, his ears that seemed to be from you, even the cooling touch of his skin as you inhaled his sweet baby scent through your nostrils. You saw him yawn, being content in your arms as he was slowly closing his eyes and falling asleep within your embrace. The softness of his breathing and the morning wind filled the room, it all felt like you were dreaming as you watched your sleeping son and your husband at your side.
This was a dream that you never wanted to wake from.
“Sweet boy,” You cooed, reaching over to touch his smooth skin with a graze of your finger. Your son yawned, snuggled into the blanket a bit more still deep asleep as you grinned in pure happiness, “You’re simply perfect, aren’t you?”
“You’re perfect, baby,” Azriel hummed to you as he wrapped you in his arms, having you lean against him with ease and his nose grazing your freshly washed hair, “I’m insanely proud of you for bringing him into the world, for bringing us this gift,”
You smiled and looked up at him, seeing him with some fresh tears in his eyes as you leaned up to kiss his chin, “Look at the Shadowsinger being emotional,”
“I don’t care,” He shrugged, his scarred hand reached over to touch the blanket your son was swaddled in with pride in his tone, “I’m beyond happy with my family here, it’s all I need,”
To see your husband and mate in such a state, it made your heart swell tenfold. You knew deep down he had a heart, a massive one at that which would only be vulnerable to those who he was close to and considered his family. You saw it when you two were young and passionately in love with one another, and to see it evolve and strengthen over time seemed like an honor and privilege. And now it was happening all over again with your son now in your life.
A gentle knock was heard at the door, you both look over to see Rhysand and Feyre poking their heads in. They instantly saw your son, both of their eyes going big and massive grins on their faces.
“Can we come in?” Feyre asked, you nodding with a hint of excitement to show off your newborn. Both of them slipped in, closing the door behind them and walking over to be perched at the side of the bed where you and Azriel were. Feyre’s eyes were already misting, seeing your sleeping son and her warmth was radiating off her grin and gaze. Rhysand clasped Azriel on the shoulder with pride.
“He’s perfect,” Rhysand said to Azriel, then leaning over to kiss the top of your head lovingly, “Well done Cousin.”
“Thank you, Rhys,” You said to him as you then gestured to your sleeping son, “You want to hold him?”
Azriel watched with a soft grin as Rhysand took his son gently in his arms, already holding him perfectly since he had practiced with his own offspring. There was a look of pride on the High Lord’s face, scanning the little boy up and down with his own sense of love that he would share with his nephew. Feyre beamed as she stood and perched her head on his shoulder, looking at your son too.
“Oh, he’s simply beautiful,” Feyre said with a sigh before giving a small wink to Azriel, “Takes after his father no doubt,”
Azriel slightly blushed as he shook his head, “Thank you for the kind words, Feyre. But hIs eyes are of the bluest sky, just like his mother,”
“Still, a handsome boy and Illryian,” Rhysand said with his smile as he looked over at the pair of you, “No doubt he’ll be surrounded by love and support from his family.”
“I should hope so,” You teased, Rhysand rolled his eyes as you spoke again, “Considering he’s named after the High Lord who is holding him now,”
Both Feyre and Rhysand looked at you in shock, though you and Azriel were remaining calm. Of course, this was one of those topics that was between the pair of you, trying to think of names and never being able to settle on one thing since you didn’t know the gender. But you both knew one thing for certain: the middle name. It was going to be sacred and filled with meaning, coming from a special person to the pair of you.
Rhysand was more than just the High Lord of Night Court, he was your family and kept you close within arm’s reach. Even after he lost his own immediate family, he treated you as a sister and loved you dearly. To Azriel, Rhysand was a found brother and close friend, the family that took him in when his own family left them in ruins.
Rhysand saved you both, and you both owed your lives to him.
“We don’t know his first name yet, but his middle name will be Rhysand,” You explained as you saw some tears forming in Rhysand’s eyes, “We had to name him after the very High Lord who brought us both out of the darkness and made us feel loved when we didn’t.”
Feyre snuggled into Rhysand as he was grinning at you with tears in his violet eyes, but you knew that they were tears of joy. She kissed his cheek lovingly as Azriel made his way over to him and clasped his shoulder.
“You mean the world to us, you both do,” he said to Rhysand and Feyre, “And we owe our lives to you. Thanks to you, our son will know the true meaning of family, Rhys,”
As Feyre and Rhysand embraced Azriel, you were filled with content in how this day was unfolding and a new chapter beginning your life. It was all you and Azriel wanted: being surrounded by family with your new child finally in the world.
It was all you wanted and more
“There we are, much better, huh?”
Azriel closed the door behind him, his son whimpering in his hold as they were out on the small terrace. The night sky was clear and calm, the warm winds were enough to leave some of the windows open as the moon hung high in the open sky with a scattering of stars. The twinkling lights below from the city seemed to set the mood as Azriel stood out in the open with his son, who was watching his father with his newborn eyes.
Cassian and Nesta cut their honeymoon short after being contacted about the birth, coming back to the House of Wind an hour after Rhysand and Feyre gave the new family some time together. They too were excited to meet the new addition to the family, though Cassian teased in wishing for your next child to be named after himself. You blushed madly as Azriel gave him a playful glare, but Cassian threw up his hands.
“What? Fair is fair!”
Since you were restricted in staying in bed, you both were going to stay one more night before Madja would come back and clear you to go home. It was safer that way since you wanted to be at your best for both yourself and the baby, and after nursing him and having more time with your newborn, you were drowsy and you fell asleep. But before you could, you finally thought of a name that suited your son well.
Alec. Alec Rhysand.
Azriel took the helm in watching over Alec as you were resting and in a deep sleep, thinking it was the best time to have alone time with Alec while the rest of the world moved on around him. His mind was still on overdrive on all that happened that day, running on the last bit of energy he had but also energized at the same time with his son in his arms. There was still more to be done, but Azriel would think of those things later. At that moment, he wished to simply hold his boy close.
“You had a busy day,” Azriel hummed to Alec, seeing his son watch him with his bright eyes as Azriel kept talking, “Coming into this world screaming your head off. You had to make your mark that way, didn’t you?”
Azriel had to chuckle from how serious Alec was looking at him, the moonlight bathed on his skin and illuminating his bright eyes some more. Azriel saw his mate in those eyes, a familiar sense of home was set in his gut as he reached over to tuck the blanket in a bit more around his son.
“I hope you know how loved you are,” He explained to Alec, swaying a bit back and forth as the warm wind came again, “I’m sure you do. Not just by me and your mother, but by the rest of your family. And I vow to you, Alec Rhysand, to always love you and show you how much I love you every day for as long as I’m alive and breathing,”
Azriel thought about his mother then, seeing her face in his mind and missing her all the more. He wished she was still alive, away from all that pain that was around her but never diminished her kindness and gentleness. He wondered how his mother would feel about Alec if she would love him and be happy to have a grandson. It saddened him that he would never know, but he didn’t want to dwell on it too much.
“You will never have to be afraid,” Azriel softly spoke to Alec, who was wiggling a bit in his blankets, “Nothing in this world or any other world will harm you, not while I’m here. Anything you wish to do, whatever path you choose to take, your mother and I will be behind you,”
He could only picture and dream what his life would be like, what kind of Illyrian Alec would grow up to be. Would he be wise? Or perhaps a strong soldier. It never mattered to Azriel, not when he knew deep down that Alec would have a bright future. He would strike down any foe or enemy that would dare to harm his mate or son since they both were his world now. First, it was his mate, his sole source of love and joy that he never wished to withdraw from.
And now it was his son, making his heart expand and grow.
Azriel’s finger moved up to tuck in the blanket once more, though Alec’s small and delicate hand grabbed his finger before he could do it. It made Azriel freeze like a statue, seeing the small hand cling to his one finger like a lifeline. The pristine and soft hand against a scarred finger is such a contrasting thing to witness. But Azriel felt like he was under some kind of spell from the touch of his son, simply feeling his hand around his finger and feeling how tight Alec was holding onto him,
Almost silently telling his father he needed him.
So Azriel hummed, a lullaby he remembered when he was a young boy in need of love. The same lullaby his mother sang to him as a babe, both haunting and beautiful at the same time. Azriel recalled that little song driving the nightmares away, making the shadows that would plague his mind disappear like mist in the morning sky. He remembered the feeling of being held by his mother, the sweet scent of her hair, the soft tenor of her voice as she would sing to him.
Before he knew it, Alec was fast asleep, nuzzling into the blanket he was tucked tight in, but his hand was still gripping Azriel’s finger. But Azriel didn’t have the heart to stop singing or stop swaying, even as his son was in deep sleep with a content look on his infant face. He simply let the lullaby go on, floating into the night sky and around him as his constant swaying was therapeutic for him. If need be, he would stay out there for hours and hours on end just to keep his son happy and content. He would do anything for his son at this point, and he felt no shame for it.
He was too occupied to notice that you woke up from your slumber, pulling on a robe to watch your mate and son by the window with a massive grin on your face.
The End
tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle
#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#azriel x you#Azriel#acotar fanfiction#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#azriel spymaster#azriel x oc#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#fanfiction#writing
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MOVED TO @seratopia
miles morales x reader - purple
miles takes you out to get slushies
You’re in the zone, notebooks and textbooks laid out, pens scattered everywhere, music from your headphones blasting in your headphones. You’re studying in your dorm, nodding your head to the music while you scratch down a few notes on paper.
Midterms are coming up, and you’re studying hard. Students have been clawing their way through classes like zombies, grunting and sighing to themselves like half-dead corpses.
It’s already dark outside, the only source of light in your room being the technicolor laptop screen in front of you. You hear a beeping and occasional crash outside, but that’s just New York.
At first, you don’t hear the knocking on your window, too endorsed in your music to notice. It’s only when the knocking gets louder and faster that you pause your study session.
Hesitantly pulling down your headphones, you look towards your glass window. You recognize that black suit anywhere, the one that looks like he’s bleeding from his armpits.
It’s Miles.
You get up from your desk chair, flipping the lock on the window and pushing the glass pane all the way up. Like the thousands of times he’s done before, Miles crawls through your window, stepping onto the soft carpet of your dorm.
He’s been getting bigger, stronger, lately. Only shame of that is the fact that it’s harder for him to fit through your window.
Miles dusts himself off, and you spread your arms wide for a hug with a smile on your face. He practically lands into you, squeezing you tight and forcing the air out of your lungs. He’s so happy to see you.
He sighs into your hair.
“M’ glad you’ve been keeping your window locked.“
“You said you hated it yesterday.“
“Shhh....“
The two of you unclasp, and Miles tugs his mask off his face. He presses a kiss to your temple, shifting his gaze towards the array of study materials on your desk.
“Midterms?“
“Yep.“ You say, popping the “p.“
Miles ponders for a moment, peering from the bags under your eyes to the impossibly large stack of papers on your study space. Subconsciously, he kneads a hand into your side.
“Hey, you wanna go somewhere?“
“Miles, it’s 10 at night.“
“How bout’ the 7-Eleven down the street?“
“Mmmm....“
“I’ll keep you safe. You’re lookin’ at the one and only Spiderman.“ Miles says, gesturing to himself with a smirk.
You playfully roll your eyes. “Alright. I think I need a break anyway.”
“For real.“ Miles mutters.
Miles scouts your dorm room for a jacket, maybe some sweatpants. He usually leaves clothes at your dorm anyway. You throw a pair of grey sweatpants at his head, but he catches them in his fist. Over his suit, Miles throws on a jacket, slotting his legs through the sweatpants.
It’s cold out, so you throw on a jacket, putting on slippers over your fuzzy socks. Miles shoves his mask back on just so his identity is concealed. If anyone asks, Spiderman was just saving a person who got lost
“C’mere.“ Miles says, his arms already out near your window.
You gingerly rise up on your tip-toes, wrapping your arms around Miles’s neck. He slots one hand onto the lower curve of your back, and the other where your thighs and calves meet, carrying you in a somewhat twisted princess carry.
Miles carefully inches through your tiny apartment window, and you duck your head down to make sure you don’t hit it on the way out.
Your heart already pumping in your veins, Miles jumps out into the open air, one hand slinging the both of you through Brooklyn, the other slotted underneath your upper thighs to keep you from plummeting to the ground.
You never really admit it, but you love when Miles slings you both places. The wind in your face, Miles holding you close, the sounds of New York. You adore it.
It’s not very long before the ride ends, and Miles pulls lands in a very suspicious alleyway.
“I knew you were plotting against me all along.“ You joke, and he sets you down onto the concrete. He yanks his mask off, shoving it into his jacket pocket.
The florescent lights of the 7-Eleven glow a bright white, as if it were it’s own sun. Miles pulls the door open for you, such a gentleman. You step inside, and Miles gives a nod to the cashier.
“Ooh! Slushies.“ You say, staring at the almost hypnotizing swirl of neon colors in the tank. It’s so inviting, the perfect thing to have at 10pm.
Miles already helps himself, grabbing a cup and handing one to you. As you suspect, Miles gets the blue flavor, while you get the red cherry cola. You can hear the light pop and sizzle of the slush as it pours, making you all the more thirsty.
You take a sip, and you sigh in enjoyment.
“You want anything else?“ Miles asks, and you shake your head no. He guides you with a hand on your back to the cashier counter, and the man already starts typing in the order.
Miles reaches into both jacket pockets, but no avail.
“Shit, forgot my wallet.“
A.K.A, Miles doesn’t keep his wallet on him during patrol.
“All good man, on the house.“
“Thanks, man.“
You nod, and Miles reaches his arm past your head, pushing the door open in front you. The cold air of Brooklyn engulfs you, and you can nearly see your breath cloud up.
Slowly, the both of you talk, inching back towards the dark alleyway from before. On your tip-toes again, you press a chilled kiss to Miles’s chin.
“Thanks, Miles.“
“I didn’t even buy it.“ He chuckles, shamelessly pulling you into him after taking another sip of his slush.
One thing leads to another, and Miles starts kissing you, starting from your cheeks but eventually leading down to your lips. Simultaneously, he draws you in and holds his slush with the same hand, using the other to bury it in your hair.
Miles chuckles into your mouth; it’s fun to kiss when you taste like cherry cola. Miles is taken by surprise when you boldly prod your tongue into his mouth, a blush rising high onto his face. With the slight privacy of the alleyway, Miles feels brave enough prod and poke your lips with his teeth.
When you finally let go, Miles’s face is warm in contrast to the cold air, almost hot to the touch. It’s rare when you two ever truly swap spit, but Miles thinks its special when you do.
Its a bit silent for a moment after, but neither of you can stop smiling. Miles in particular can’t stop touching you all over.
A thought pops into your head.
You rummage through your pockets for your phone, switching it on and pressing the button to activate your flashlight.
“Miles, open your mouth.“
“Woah, babe, didn’t know you were into th-“ He jokes.
“Oh my gosh Miles, it’s not that.“
Miles chuckles. He loves poking at you. As he was told, he opens his mouth, and you point the flashlight at it. You start laughing to yourself, the light of the flash flickering everywhere.
“What? Is it my face?“
“No, look!“ You pull up the selfie mode on your phone, using the brightness of your phone to the best of it’s ability. You press your cheek to Miles, sticking your tongue out for the camera.
“It’s purple!“ You cackle, and Miles starts chuckling along with you.
There’s spots on Miles’s tongue that are deeper in blue, but still nonetheless a lavender color. You giggle, snapping a few photos.
“We should try again but with different colors.” Miles smirks, slyly resting his head against your temple.
You smirk. “Just tell me you wanna make out more, Miles.”
He shrugs, dropping an arm around your shoulders. “Hmm. Maybe.“
© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.
#miles morales#spiderman#spiderman across the spiderverse#atsv#miles morales x you#miles morales x reader#miles morales x y/n#fluff#making out#romance#reader insert#spiderman 1610B#atsv miles morales#across the spiderverse#atsv x reader#cosmosis-writes ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
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I'd love to see an Eric x Reader where they share a first kiss together.
Love this ask. Thank you for requesting it! It went longer than I originally planned because I have a flair for the dramatics.
Focus on Me
Eric x GN! Reader
CW: Panic attacks, fear, fear of death, mentions of blood, some language.
Three days. Three days since New York became an unrecognizable, empty shell. Three days of maddening silence. Three days of existing in absolute total fear.
The helicopters have stopped flying overhead. There’s nothing in the sky anymore. Everything has just stopped.
The silence is unbearable. At least now the ambient sound of the storm—the torrential rain and howling wind—fills that awful, strange void.
Every sound, every movement, even the water dripping from your clothes, has you and Eric pausing in step. The creak in the floorboards, the way the crumbling building shifts against the outside wind, it’s nerve wracking and makes forward progress slow.
This building wouldn’t have been your first choice, but you and Eric needed to get out of the storm. The giant holes in the side of the complex were blissfully ignored until you were both inside and the strong wind whipped through them. You counted your blessings that the concrete stairs were even intact.
Eric’s hand is on your shoulder as you get further into the building. It eases your nerves, as you know it comforts him as well. It’s the only source of warmth you can feel through the ice-cold adrenaline and the chill of your damp clothes. A warm spot of hope.
You’re positive he can feel you trembling. Scared shitless. Expecting to die at any moment.
It’s so dark in that hallway, the only source of light is from the night sky, through the shattered windows. The storm wind howls through the glass cracks creating an eerie whistling. The rain pounds, lightning flashes give you quick snapshots of the apartments around you. There’s an open door to your left, which seems like a good option.
Lightning flashes again and illuminates the dark red stain leading through the door. Never mind.
The clap of thunder moments later startles you so bad you flinch and duck. Eric’s hand squeezes your shoulder, reassuringly. Without thinking, you grab his hand and hold it in place. An anchor to keep you calm, to keep you sane. A reminder that you’re not alone.
You pass the red stain with careful steps. Part of that apartment must have a hole in it because the sound of rain is clearer, every pounding raindrop echoes off the walls.
The last door to your right is wide open.
Lightning flashes again. Another snapshot. Coast is clear, no trail of blood this time.
Every muscle tenses up, bracing for the thunder to follow. Push on. You repeat this in your mind as the noise rolls above, gentler this time. You can’t afford to lose your nerve.
Eric’s hand moves from your shoulder to your lower back as he shifts to stand next to you. His other arm wrapped around your waist. He’s taking more of a lead as you pass through the doorway together. His breath comes out trembling and slow in your ear.
This apartment has more windows, letting in enough light to see around the room. In the context of everything, it looks strange. It’s still neat and undisturbed—the couch has a blanket and cute pillows, the coffee table has a tv remote on it, the living room floor is covered in a long, plush carpet. It’s a time capsule, back to the last hours of normal life within the city.
Eric points to the couch and back to you.
Shaking your head ‘no,’ you grab the blanket from the back of the couch and lay it down on the carpet. Somehow, sleeping on the ground feels better—what if the springs in the couch make noise? The idea of shifting in your sleep and creating noise has become a constant fear every night.
There’s been so many new fears in the last couple of days.
Eric watches you, then begins sitting on the ground too. He takes his suit jacket off and hangs it off the coffee table to dry. He’s busy setting up his spot to sleep, smoothing out his side of the blanket and taking one of the couch pillows. He hands the other to you. It feels like a really strange sleepover.
Lightning flashes again and you get a clear view of Eric. His tie is still on.
Your fingers find their way to his shoulders first as you reach out blindly in the dark. They’re broad, well defined, and you’re surprised at first. Eric freezes, thinking something is wrong, but you continue on your way to his tie, gently pulling it loose and unwrapping it from around his neck. He watches you, sitting up a little so you can reach better.
So distracted by your task, the following clap of thunder above barely registers. Neither of you flinch.
“My mum taught me how to fix my ties.” His voice is barely a whisper, but it mixes in the space between you with your own breath.
In the dark you’re only inches apart.
You pull the tie off and lay it down on the coffee table next to his suit jacket.
“What’s she like?” You ask with a matching whisper.
God, the sound of your own voice is strange to you now. Raspy, raw, unused. And Eric’s…you almost forgot he was English.
“My mum?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s kind…” He swallows back the rising emotion in his voice. “Always so kind. She didn’t want me to—to go.” He takes a ragged breath; the harsh noise is enough to make you tense and pull him closer to you. It’s an action of panic at first, but it quickly turns into a hug as he presses his face into the crook of your neck.
At least now his choked sobs are muffled.
Running a hand through his hair, you try to calm him. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”
There’s a sniffle and he pulls back. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Here, lay down.”
You lay down too, guiding his head to the pillow. His nose nudges yours in the close space—you can feel his breath on your cheek. His hand grips the side of your shirt. He might still be crying; his eyes are shiny in the dark.
Your palm rests against the side of his neck, cupping his jaw—it stays there. “Tell me what England is like.”
Another flash of lightning. His face is so strikingly handsome in the light. Droplets of water fall from his brown curls onto his forehead.
“Um…well…” He begins unsteadily. “It’s very tight.”
“Tight?”
He nods, nose brushing against yours again. “The roads don’t get wider than two lanes. One going each way. All the houses are linked in long rows—almost like the neighborhoods here.”
“Is there traffic?”
Eric laughs once, a quiet laugh that comes out more like a long breath. It’s enough of a laugh to hear the humor in his voice. “There’s nothing but traffic.”
“Why’d they make the roads like that?”
“Not enough space.”
“Oh.” You ponder. “That makes sense actually—being that it’s pretty much an island."
“An island, yeah.”
“An island full of traffic.”
He laughs again, breath mixing with yours. “The U.S.—it’s quite big, so you can make your roads wider. More lanes and the like.”
“Ah…”
There’s a moment of silence where just the rain pounds overhead. Silence, that dreadful thing forced upon you now. Eric’s laugh, however small and subdued, was a wonderful sound.
“What made you want to be a lawyer?”
“I dunno. I… my dad said it was a good profession to do and—and it seemed very grown up.”
“You must be very smart to get into Law School around here.”
You win another laugh out of him. “I don’t know about that.”
“No, I’m serious. They’re extremely competitive.”
“It was expensive to get in.”
“I can’t even imagine.”
“What about you, are you going…” he pauses, his voice deflates a little, “…Were you going to school?”
You remain undeterred, you have to. “No, too expensive. Just working and trying to figure things out.”
“You didn’t have any plans?”
“I had plans, short-term stuff, but I’m not really a ‘plan your life out’ kinda person.”
“That actually sounds nice.”
“I’d like to think so.”
Another bout of silence. Eric is no longer sniffling; he watches you curiously.
“And your soccer teams—"
“—Football—”
Maybe he can see your teasing face in the dark, maybe he can’t. “Mm. Tomatoe, tomato. So, your soccer teams—”
“Hm, no. Football.”
“I’m not calling it football—you’re going to get me all confused.”
Eric laughs again and leans his forehead against yours. “It’s really not hard to separate them out—you’re doing this on purpose to get a rise out of me.”
“A rise? Jesus, you’re so British. Are you going to let me finish my question?”
“I’ll let you finish your question if you call them football teams.”
“You are a stubborn one. I feel like most people would have moved on by now.”
“Does that surprise you?”
You make a noise. “No, actually I like it. But anyway, Football—”
“—Thank you, darling—”
“—Hm. It’s a big deal, right?”
“Oh, huge. Did you even need to ask?”
“I guess I could have figured it out when you forced me to call it football in my own country.”
Eric’s grip on your shirt has relaxed now, his hand rests on your hip. “Is football a big deal here?”
“Football—football, or soccer—football?”
“Ah, well played. I see what you’re doing now.”
“I will make you say the word soccer.”
Somehow, he leans even closer.
“Not a chance.”
“Ha. Well, football tickets are sold out months in advance, sometimes before the season even starts, so that might answer your question.”
“They’re sold-out like that in England too.”
“But which football am I talking about, Eric?”
He snickers. “The one where they throw and kick the ball.”
“Oh, that’s very funny. Very clever.”
“I do know—”
From back in the room something creaks. Pressure on a floorboard, something moving, something big. Eric freezes. Your body goes cold.
Click-click-click.
Another couple of pounds on the ground. These are closer, you can feel the vibrations through the floor.
In the back of the apartment, leading to a bedroom, a door slowly creaks open. The rain sounds much closer now and the clicks continue, vivid and clear.
This apartment has a hole in it to the outside.
Eric is back to gripping you like his life depends on it. Your hand trembles against his skin.
Pound. Click-click-click.
The indifferent storm above sends lightning down again, as if it’s saying 'Hey, look at this'. The rapid succession of flashes gives you a view of the doorframe and the monstrous creature slinking through it.
Its body contorts and bends, long legs folding in as it fits itself into the room without disturbing anything. Scales and plates shift and move fluidly along its back. You didn’t think it was possible for it to be this nimble.
Click-click-click.
Eric, watching your tearful eyes track something over his shoulder, very carefully and very slowly starts to turn and try to get a glimpse of it. Your hand on his cheek tightens and stops him, turning him back to look at you. The message is clear as his breathing starts to quicken.
Look at me.
He purses his lips in an effort to keep from breathing through his mouth. He’s shaking as much as you are now.
The creature swings its head around in the dark, opening its face plates and clicking out. The way it opens up, the sound it makes is almost enough to make you shudder. Who knows why, but it moves toward you and Eric. Its massive silhouette stands out against the apartment’s lighter walls. You keep watching it, trembling and on the verge of tears.
The thing’s leg bumps the coffee table, and your mouth drops open at the sudden startlingly loud shriek of wood scraping against wood. Eric is quick to cover your mouth with a hand, holding you in place, keeping you quiet. He presses his mouth up against the back of his hand, trying to keep himself quiet too. Tears spill over onto your cheeks; they mix with his. Your faces are pressed together. Even though he’s terrified, he’s still gentle.
Click-click-click. Pound.
It’s so close now that those alien noises vibrate through your body. It’s so heavy that when it steps on the floorboards it almost bounces you.
And the thing smells.
It smells like death, decay, and rot. You’re never going to forget that smell as it wafts over you and permeates your clothes.
More tears fall, it’s impossible to rip your eyes away from the creature’s silhouette, it towers nearly to the ceiling in one long, thin body.
You wish more than anything that the lightning would stop. You don’t need to see it in clear detail. You don’t need to see the bits of viscera hanging from it or the dark red stains leading up its grotesque arms.
Eric’s hand moves a fraction out of the way to hold your cheek. Your eyes flash to him just as he replaces his hand with his mouth.
It’s reckless beyond measure, but the action makes you instinctually close your eyes. There’s no movement, there’s no bloom of passion, but the warmth spreads through your face. It’s an act of desperation in what may be your last moments together.
The creature’s feet pound on the floorboards again. Are they getting further away? You don’t dare open your eyes. You focus on the feeling of Eric’s mouth against yours. If this is when and how you’re going to die, you want to think about how soft his lips feel. You want to think about the way his curly hair looks as it dries into a tangled mess. How his shoulders felt under your touch and the breath of his laugh and the way his words sounded when he smiled.
It works, you almost feel at peace. It's just the feeling, the idea of it all ending any moment that keep you trembling.
But the footsteps are getting further away. The hinges of the door leading out into the complex’s hallway creak as the door is pushed open.
It’s leaving. It’s leaving.
After you can no longer feel the pounding footsteps or hear it anymore, you open your eyes again. The apartment is empty. It’s gone.
Eric is also looking around. He pulls back a little, separating your lips. The absence of warmth sends shivers down your body. And then you start trembling again, left to deal with the struggle of survival. The adrenaline, the short supply you had left, is used up—your body is suffering.
Shell shock is the first thing you think of, but Eric’s eyes catch yours and you snap back to the task at hand. Fortification. Leaving and following in that thing's footsteps would just mean a grisly death in the dark. You'd have to make due and close off all the exits.
It takes ages to sit up. There are moments when you think you hear something, only for it to be your imagination. There are moments when you question if you’re still alive.
Eric gently takes your hand; he helps you to your feet. Moving so, so slowly and carefully. It’s Eric that guides you through the next few minutes, directing you to help him move furniture in front of the door. Picking it up slowly and delicately. Closing the back door, which does indeed lead to a hole in the wall. He always stands near you; his hand guides you either by your shoulder, your hand, or your lower back.
Eric, the man you found shaking and traumatized in the rain, helps you and leads you.
Once the furniture has been moved, the apartment no longer looks like a time capsule of normality. It matches the rest of the city—disorderly and inherently wrong.
With your task complete, you lean against one of the walls, holding your mouth shut. The shaking in your legs becomes more pronounced now that you’re no longer moving. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. The dark room spins around you. Through your fingers you take small gasps of breath.
Eric knows what a panic attack looks like. What it feels like. How it cripples a person.
“It’s alright.” He breathes, as he comes over to hold the sides of your face. “We’re alright.”
Your hands reach out and cling to him, pulling him closer. His body flattens against you on the wall. His forehead leans down to yours.
“Eric…”
He lifts your face up, smoothing out your cheeks, trying to calm you down. “I’m here. Right here.”
You do the only thing you can think of. The only method true method that can dispel the thoughts of your near death. Closing the short distance between your faces, you kiss him.
This time, he moves. This time it’s not a kiss with your imminent death looming right over you; it’s relived, it’s desperate, it’s a plea to wake up your body and revive yourself.
We’re alive.
The kiss is wet, you can taste the tears on his lips as he sloppily molds them to yours. The light stubble on his face scratches you, but it hardly registers. The kiss gets increasingly desperate—you both needed this, you both wanted this. You could have died and never experienced this and now you’re making up for that.
Your fingers tangle in his still wet hair. They grab the back of his neck; they grab his shoulders as he flexes and runs his hands up and down your sides. If you pull away to take in another gasp, Eric is quick to close the distance again, forcing you to take in air through your nose.
But you’re tired beyond measure, running off nothing but pure fear and adrenaline for days and nights on end. How Eric keeps himself together after being through the same things you have is something you’d like to learn one day, but tonight—fuck, tonight you need to sit down before your legs give out.
You pull away again, trying to gasp out something. Eric’s lips chase yours, but your body has had enough finally, and you give in, sliding down the wall before he catches you. By the way your head lolls back, and your arms fall to your sides, he understands.
Always so gentle, always so caring, Eric leads you back to the blanket and lays you down in his arms. Pressing your face into his collar, you feel just safe enough that you might be able to sleep. Exhaustion pulls at your consciousness, but images of the hideous alien are vividly playing out in your mind’s eye.
Only Eric’s voice, barely above a breath, but warm in your ear is enough to soothe you. He murmurs about how you’ll both be on the boats tomorrow. Tomorrow, you’ll be safe. Everything will be ok tomorrow. He peppers your forehead with light kisses in between words.
Before your world fades into nothingness, you stretch up to kiss him under his jaw. The last thing you hear is his quiet sigh.
Eric didn’t sleep much that night, too busy making a plan in his head to get you both to the south st. seaport. If he had to carry you, he would. He would do anything for you. And if this all somehow turned into a happy ending, then he would be right next to you to share it, to see you smile again, to hear you tease him.
If it doesn’t, then he has to find a way to kiss you one more time before the end.
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~Aziraphale's Flaming Sword~
Here's my poem for @isiaiowin's GOetry Monday prompt: Concrete! Let me say, this took soooo long to lay out! My hand is killing me! :D I really love the symbolism of the flaming sword in Good Omens, and how it's Aziraphale who gets to wield it. I posted earlier today with more thoughts about Aziraphale's sword if anyone's interested in reading more of my rambling xD Text under the cut:
Before the wild, unpredictable flames were tamed by humans, They adorned an ancient blade made for a guardian angel, Ever burning without a source of energy, as if by one's will alone Wisps licking at the air, emitting a heat that burns simply by proximity. To the peaceful guardian, it was a lifesaving gift, a tool for protection A symbol of the guardian's compassion and empathy for humanity Until it changed hands throughout the ages And its fire fueled the rage and violence and war Of those who would do harm to the world Causing devastation across time And yet, in the hands of a brave child That sword of fire and light and warmth Would defeat the evils of man when wielded with compassion and empathy.
#good omens#gomens#good omens poetry#GOetry#isiaiowin goetry monday#good omens fanart#aziraphale#az fell#angel of the eastern gate#aziraphale's flaming sword#good omens war#good omens pepper#pippin galadriel moonchild#concrete poem#poetry#ticketyboooo posts
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sabrina carpenter-esque popstar!reader has been in a 5 year long relationship with actor!sylus, and yet somehow the world has no concrete proof that you two are even friends. there are rumors of course, with the amount of times you crossed paths at award shows and events, but they could always be chalked up to something else.
one of your closest friends is part of the cast of a movie sylus stars in, so it's no surprise that you're present at the premiere. seating in award shows are usually at random, and you two just so happened to be sat next to each other. sylus' twin cousins are very vocal about their love for your music, so when fans spot the cover of your album proudly displayed on his bookshelf during a live stream, he pins the blame on luke and kieran messing with his apartment.
fans have been growing suspicious over the years, and tabloids are clamoring for a picture, an instagram post, some insider information- anything they can use to paint you two as something more than possible colleagues.
but they have nothing.
until sylus is spotted in the crowd of the second night of your tour.
the first ever source that does numbers on social media is a shaky fancam taken right before the start of the show from someone sitting a row behind him, the sunglasses he dons doing nothing to hide his identity. except, it seems like you two have no intention of keeping your relationship a secret any longer when you openly interact with him throughout the night, pointing and sending winks at his direction.
and the fans eat it up.
halfway through the show, the internet is flooded with photos of sylus who practically has hearts in his eyes from how he looks at you with so much sheer adoration. there are videos that chaotically pan back and forth between you on the stage and him singing along to your songs word for word. some where he catches fans with their phones towards him, to which he gives them a pointed look and a finger that directs them to take videos of you, not him.
but what really took the cake that night was his reaction to you, dropping down on your knees in a provocative position, while your eyes are locked with his.
his brows shoot up in momentary shock before relaxing into an amused smirk. he chuckles.
so that's why you insisted on keeping details of your performances under wraps? even from him, who's usually the first person to know about every creative thought that runs through your pretty little mind.
five minutes after you step off the stage, sylus posts a photo dump of you on his instagram account that he barely uses. the first of the ten is arguably one of the best taken photos you have in your entire career. sylus managed to capture you in an ethereal, almost other-worldly light, making you look like an angel in the baby pink body suit you have on.
he captions the post with two simple words that cements your relationship to the world.
my girl.
#good evening#this is really unorganized sawry#i have more thoughts#but lets save that for another night <3#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace#sylus x reader#sylus fluff#love and deepspace x reader
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You’re my Last Call
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary: You and Hotch had broken up over a month ago. Once he broke up with you, he disappeared, absolutely no contact with you anymore. You didn’t know why, there were no signs he was unhappy until he just broke off everything. Up until a freak accident happens, you thought you had lost the love of your life. What if that was never the case, and he just thought you’d be better off without his sadness?
trigger warning: car accident
read on ao3 here
Now there's blood on the windshield
And there's credit cards on the floor
And I'm crawling out the window of my passenger side door
Your picture's on the dashboard and that's the only thing I saw
You were always first to catch me when I fall
Yeah, I'm sorry you were my last call
- Lyrics from the song 3/13 by Wyatt Flores
Hotch was trying to remind himself of the good days when things felt less heavy and he could have a clear head. These days? Everything felt so heavy that he didn’t know if it was possible not to be stressed out. He had broken up with you weeks ago. Maybe it has been a month already, he was unsure at this point. He knew that his presence was a downer to everyone around him, and you had been too much of a light in the world to let him dull you. He loved you so much, but he knew that letting you go would be the best option for you to succeed.
Everything felt like it was going so slowly. He had left the office about an hour ago and was headed toward the victim's house to do one last walk-through to see if there was anything that the local police had missed. He knew exactly where he was going as he and the team had been there before, so he did not even tell anyone he was going there or put the location in his GPS. He had been paying attention, he wasn't too tired, he had slept pretty well the night before, and nothing but you were on his mind. He looked down at his dashboard, to see the photo of you he kept there. Even though he left, he kept you with him. He always wanted to keep you with him, other than Jack, you were his biggest source of happiness. He had looked down for a split second, but apparently, that was enough time for a far to cross into Hotch’s lane and slammed him into the wall lining the highway.
-
After the car crashed, Hotch couldn’t remember anything until he felt himself on the concrete ground and saw random faces flashing back and forth over the top of him.
“Sir. Is there anyone we can call for you?” They asked hoping to get an answer from the man lying in front of them. They knew there was a strong chance there was a concussion.
Hotch could hardly muster up many words, all he said was your name. Your name and said check the phone.
-
You were at work. Everyone else had started going home, and the law office was closed for the day. There wasn’t any noise as you sat typing your last report on your laptop, it seemed peaceful almost. That was until, your phone started ringing incredibly loud, piercing through the silence.
“Maam. This is Officer Finch. I have a man here by the name of Aaron Hotchner, he was in a car accident. He gave us you to call.”
“Where is he? He is a Federal Agent.”
Before the officer even finished giving you the details of where Aaron was, you had already grabbed all of your things and ran out of the office. By the time you hung up with him, you were only ten minutes away.
Nothing would stop you from getting to him. Nothing that happened between the two of you would make you not rush to his side. He was, and would always be, your person.
When you got there, the first thing you noticed were the lights and the sirens. It brought back so many memories from when Hotch was hurt by Foyet. your heart was pounding in your chest and you just needed to find him to see that he was okay. an officer waved you over, and you saw him lying on the ground. There was a cut across his forehead, and his eyes were grimacing like he was in pain. It was killing you, even though you hadn’t even fully gotten up to him to see him in that kind of condition. He looked almost pitiful. you weren’t sure if you wanted to talk to him because of how badly he had hurt you so you stood and talked to the paramedics who said that it was most likely that he had a concussion, but that he was going to be fine he was very lucky. The person had crossed his lane of traffic and when they did, it caused his car to swerve headfirst into the highway wall.
You heard a soft voice call your name. It was very quiet, almost like it was reserved. They didn’t want to be calling your name. They didn’t want you to know that they needed you at this moment. you didn’t know what to do because doing this was wrong to be an emergency contact on a person who had tried so hard to remove you from their life. One day everything was okay, holding hands laughing together, knowing each other’s favorite orders at the coffee shop, to not even a phone call explaining why everything ended with a snap of a finger.
“Yeah, Aaron I’m here,” you said softly in his ear, as you finally walked over to him, kneeling next to him and running your hands through his hair. That was always a small comfort for him when he really needed somebody he loved you running your fingers through his hair.
“ I am so sorry but you were the only person I wanted to be here, I know I am probably the last person you want to hear from right now.” His voice was still very soft, almost like it hurt to speak and he wanted to tell him to stop talking to focus on getting to the hospital, but you also wanted to hear what he had to say. Selfish as it was, you wanted to know why. Why did he end everything? Why did he act like he didn’t exist after two years of a beautiful relationship, why did he call you now he had his whole team that would break down walls to get to him if they knew something was wrong? Why did he call you a person who genuinely couldn’t do anything but be there for him?
“We will talk when you’re able to form a coherent sentence, Aaron, I'm here now and I’m definitely not leaving until I know you’re okay.” You rubbed his face with your hand, and he pressed his face into your palm.
you sat there as they loaded him into the ambulance and asked if you were allowed to ride along. They said yes, considering it was not life-threatening. You could drop your car at a gas station and they would come by and pick you up to take you with him. you did not want to be where you couldn’t see him, but you trusted the paramedics to take care of him for the five minutes he would be out of your line of sight. once you got into your car, you texted the team. You still had all of their phone numbers in case of emergency to let them know what was going on and your phone started ringing off the hook.
“What is going on?” JJ was on the other side of the phone. her voice made you calm down a little bit. The two of you had become very close friends during your relationship with Aaron and even after he had broken up with you JJ always kept in contact.
“They said that a car came into his lane and knocked him into the highway wall. He was conscious and able to talk, and I went with him to the hospital. I have to drop my car off at a gas station so it wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the highway.” You responded, your voice becoming wobbly during your explanation.
She gulped pretty heavily, you knew this was hard for her to hear. as well. “Do you want me to come up? I’m more than willing to come and just be a helping hand for you. I could be the communication between the team to let them know how he’s doing so you don’t have to constantly be on your phone and keep everyone updated. I can do it for you.” She knew how hard this was for you, and that small gesture would be such a relief, and would take so much off your plate that you didn’t even know how to deal with it.
“JJ you mean the world to me. Could you also contact Jessica and let her know what’s going on? I really don’t wanna have to call her even though I love her. This is just so much and I need to check on him and be with him.”
“Absolutely. I’ll see you soon. I love you.” She said you could feel how genuine she was in the last few words. Meeting Aaron was one of the best things that ever happened to you, but meeting her was a close second. You reciprocated and hung up the phone, got to the gas station, got into the ambulance, and off to the hospital you went. You held on to Hotch’s hand the entire time.
-
The next three hours consisted of people running in and out of the hospital room, checking on Hotch, readjusting him, checking his vitals, and it felt like almost complete chaos. The minute JJ got there you could almost cry out of relief. You needed someone else there, to make this seem like less of a fever-induced dream. To bring you back to reality, almost like a shared experience instead of being alone in a hospital room with the love of your life being poked and prodded by hospital staff.
“Hi sweetie,” JJ says as she walks into the room, tears in her eyes as she looks over at Hotch. You know the two of them are close, he always has talked highly of her.
“Hi.” This was the first time you have heard your own voice in hours and it sounded almost foreign to you. It sounded defeated and hurt.
“Why are you here JJ?” This caused you to jump. Hotch had not spoken the entire three hours until JJ walked into the room. Did he just not want to speak to you? If this was the case, why did he ask everyone to call you? You turned your head over to him, a look of hurt running over your face. He noticed immediately and turned his head away from you to look at JJ.
“You know what, I’m going to go call the team, I’ll be back in a minute. You better prepare yourself for Garcia to run in here with balloons in snacks in a few hours Hotch.” She tried to make the atmosphere less tense before she left, but the hurt and anger in you could physically feel it.
You stood up, walked over to Hotch, and put your hand under his chin, and made him look at you. He stared at you for a minute, tears gathering in his eyes as he did and he tried to open his mouth to speak but you didn’t let him get that far.
“Absolutely not, you do not get to speak right now Aaron Hotchner. You do not get to be the first one to speak after what you have put me through in the last few hours. I get to speak first.”
He nodded at you, tears slipping from his eyes.
“You LEFT me with no explanation. You are the love of my life. I would lay down everything I am and will be to make sure you and Jack are safe and happy. I did nothing wrong to deserve to be deserted. I did nothing, Aaron. I love you so much, I will love you until the day I die. Why would you have them call me? Why would you do what you did?” At this point, you were sobbing, and the last few words that came out of your mouth were gargled.
Hotch raised his hand and wiped the tears from your cheek, you wanted to turn away but your brain and arm betrayed you and you raised your hand up to hold his while it was on your face.
“Honey, it had nothing to do with you. You are the most beautiful, loving, caring person in this world.”
“But then why? What was wrong? What happened to us?”
“It was me. I was bringing you down. I was making everything worse. I didn't want to ruin your life with my hurt.” The last few words were barely a whisper.
You looked up, for the first time since this conversation started, and looked at the man in front of you. He was crying, tears falling down the side of his face onto the pillow. He was gripping your hard really hard, the ring on your fingers digging into your skin. He looked pitiful. He was heartbroken, not just because of what currently happened but because of everything going on in his head. You had wished he would’ve told you this a lot sooner. So much hurt could have been prevented if he had just been honest with you. But you knew this man, you knew he would hide things so deeply inside himself if it meant no one else had to get hurt. You knew he would hide things if it meant you would be protected from the harsh realities.
“Aaron. You are and will always be my world. If something is bothering you, I would like to talk about it. I would like to be able to be there for you if you would let me be. Please, just talk to me. Let me be there for you.” You put your hand on his cheek and he leaned into your palm. His face was flush from the accident and from the tears. He felt, defeated.
“I don’t want anyone to have to deal with me. Especially not someone who has so much to offer this world. I am just a mess of a man. You were the last person I wanted to call because I do not want you to have to clean up after me.”
“If loving you means I have to be there for everything, every sad day, every hard day, every difficult day, I will be.” You said, running your hands through his hair, his favorite.
“I don’t want you to have to do that.”
“Too late, I am already too committed.”
“You know, I was looking at my photo of you on my dashboard before it happened.” He turned his head closer to you.
“You have a photo of me in your work car?” You truly didn’t know this.
“Have the moment we started dating. It's a photo of you smiling at work when I came to visit for the first time. You were so excited to show me around to everyone. Your boyfriend is a Unit Chief in the FBI. You were so smiley the entire time, I wanted to remember that happiness on hard days. So in my work car, it sits, it's comforting.”
“Well, we can take more photos.” You sat on the edge of the bed, he sat up and you leaned into him. You were not going anywhere.
“I love you, you know that. I’m sorry for leaving, I just thought I was hurting you more than I was helping. I thought if you knew how bad I was feeling you would feel responsible or that I would hurt you.”
“I love you more than you know.”
-
After the talk, and JJ called the team to let them know the extent of everything going on, you decided to walk with her to get some coffee. Penelope had shown up five minutes after JJ ended the call with tons of goodies for Hotch, and you let her and Derek sit in there with him while you took a break. Hopefully, he would be okay, Derek could handle Penelope and Hotch needed a friend.
The two of you walked along side each other in silence until you got to the elevator. Once you got to the elevator JJ finally spoke up.
“Want to tell me what happened?” She looked at you sideways as she finished the question.
“Actually, yeah. What he said made me a bit worried and I need some more insight into what’s been going on.”
“I’m all ears.”
“He broke up with me because he’s having a hard time mentally. Has he been weird or more restricted at work at all?” You asked the question as you got into the elevator.
“A bit. I thought maybe it was due to the breakup but honestly it’s been going on a few months. I try not to pry because while he is my boss and my friend, i don’t want him to think i don’t trust him.”
“I understand that completely. I knew something was up, but I didn’t think he’d leave me just because he didn’t want to talk about it. I think we’re on the same page now, but i’m not letting this go. I love him too much.”
“He loves you too, trust me. Your photo is in his car, on his phone, in his office. You and Jack are his world. I honestly think he’s just scared.” As you got out of the elevator together she turned and hugged you. knowing you haven’t had one since this all happened. You loved your best friend, and she always knew what you needed.
-
Hotch was in the hospital for a day. They wanted to keep him overnight just for observation, but it turned out everything was okay. He had a concussion and a few cuts on his head but he was going to be fine. you were by his bedside the entire time you slept there you only left to go to the bathroom or if somebody else came and made you go get a cup of coffee. Usually it was JJ or Derek that convinced you to get up, despite Hotch telling you countless times it was okay to go home. You truly just were so happy to have him back you didn’t want to leave him again.
You both had walked to your car so you could drive him home. Jessica was keeping Jack for one more night that way Hotch could settle down at home and make sure that he was okay and you were going to stay with him tonight, because there was no way you were going to let him be alone.
“You know we have to talk about everything, right?” you said the minute you both got into the car.
“Yeah honey, I know.” He reached over and grabbed your hand and squeezed it hard.
“Why did you do this? I know you’re hurting. I would do anything to make you happy and feel loved and appreciated, that’s my goal when i’m with you. I’d do anything for you.”
“That’s the point, I just don’t want you to have to take care of me. I want to be there for you.” He started looking out of the window, like that was going to make his hurt get up and fly away.
“ Now you know a relationship is 50/50, and sometimes on bad days it’s 20/80. We give what we can, my love, and if you’re having a bad day I am more than willing to pick up the slack.” It was your turn to squeeze his hand, to bring him back to reality and remember that you were here, and that you were not going anywhere.
“I am embarrassed.” You looked over at him to see him, start to cry, genuine tears falling from his eyes, the look of defeat and hurt and embarrassment falling over his face. it was the saddest you had ever seen someone look and it absolutely shattered your heart to see him like that.
“Absolutely not,” You pulled over and stopped the car, “you have NO reason to be embarrassed about having a hard time Aaron Hotchner. You have been through more in the past few years than I could ever imagine. I don’t think I would be up walking around if I had gone through what you had been through. I would not be as good of a man as good of a dad as good of a person if I had been through what you had to go through. you give it your all every single day, whether it be as a father or as the leader of a team that saves peoples lives and every single day. you deserve somebody that not only wants to be with you at your best but somebody that will be there for you at your worst and I will be there for you. Always.” You took his face in your hands and turned him to look at you. He was still crying so you wiped his tears with your thumbs, and looked him in the eyes. You leaned in and gave him a big kiss. A kiss to cement everything you just said. So he knew, you were completely serious.
“Okay. I am sorry for what I've done, but for you, I am willing to try. I am willing to accept my downfalls, and lean on you when I need you. And you will never be my last call again, you will always be my first.”
“I better be.”
That got a smile out of him, and a small chuckle. You kissed him again and started the car back up, put it in drive, and took you both home.
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner criminal minds#fem!reader#bau team#criminal minds#hurt/comfort#aaron hotchner hurt/comfort#fanfic#hotch#hotch x reader#hotch x you#aaron hotchner female reader#derek morgan#jennifer jareau
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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐓.𝟐
➞ pair: yoongi x f reader
➞ synopsis: where you meet him during your best friend's wedding. can a heart beat again after breaking to pieces?
➞ genre: best friend's brother!yoongi, actress!female reader, bookshop owner!yoongi, angst, kind of hurt/comfort, there's also some fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn.
➞ warnings: mentions of cheating, heartbreak, reader is going through some deep shit, failed past relationship, alcohol consumption (drink mindfully and responsibly (not me saying this when I don't even drink lmao)). this is PURE fiction!
➞ A/N: I wanna start by saying thank you to the one or two persons who requested another part of this fic. as I mentioned before, I had no intention or inspiration to write more of it, but I'm glad that yall forced me into coming up with this (jkjk). I don't KNOW how and what , but I WANT to write more parts of this. so, in the meantime, enjoy this and expect something to be posted in some few months lmao. I had to rewrite this a hundred times, I kind of don't wanna proofread it ever again ��� so pls ignore any mistakes or questionable points (🙏🙏🙏!!!!!!). love <3
➞ tags: @viankiss + @parkjennykim + @acquiescence804
★ MASTERLIST.
Ethereal clouds blanketed the sky above the town, giving a gleam of light every now and then as they played a game of hide and seek with the sun. The crisp wind bit the skin of your face, carrying the scent of freshly wet concrete in every direction it went. the world was vivid in color around you and underneath your feet. As per always, nothing could beat the delight of walking down the street shortly after a round or two of rain.
as you make your way down the sidewalk, you reach a shopwindow displaying a collection of book goodness. The huge sign right at the top of the storefront read 'SNOOZE', and you wondered what kind of significance it carried for it to be the chosen name of the shop before you.
not wasting any more precious time, you decided to pay a visit and see if any book would call out your name as soon as it spots you, and lure you closer to fan its pages and listen to their story.
The first thing that welcomed you as soon as you walked into the place was a radiating warmth. the air was sweet-scented with a mix of wood, paper, new and old books, multiple perfumes and a mouth watering smell of both coffee and tea. It was almost too overwhelming, but the atmosphere soaked your heart with so much comfort almost immediately that it left you speechless.
The shop was on two floors. The first one was largely specious. Every wall was loaded up with books neatly lined up from top to bottom, and planted everywhere were tables presenting neatly organized books. Some people were scattered around, talking in hushed voices or just silently browsing. Others you could see chilling on the second floor, where a coffee bar was. It was not as spacious as the one underneath, but it was commodious enough for some extra small couches and chairs here and there.
you started walking around the lovely aisles, taking your time as you scanned through them. your finger ran down spines, and your nose inhaled the sweet, dearly loved smell of paper books in.
At the heart of your wandering, piano notes rode the air inside the shop, rushing as they slipped between shelves and making their way to your ears. it tugged a smile on your face, the smooth melody that sounded somewhat familiar, and you stalked its source with sheer curiosity.
There, when you finally made it, you found the man you met at your best friend’s wedding a couple of months earlier, seated on the piano bench, focused. Yoongi was his name. Yoongi, Soyoon’s older brother, who walked around with a box of UNO cards in his pocket. such a memorable person.
He looked slightly different than the last (fist and only) time you saw him, though. His hair was shorter, pushed back with a pair of sunglasses resting on his head. He also had sidecuts, and some ear piercings. totally different from the other day.
perhaps the "performance" went on for about two minutes more, u couldn't tell, but soon he had his hands clasped on his lap and smiled, satisfied. Before you could walk away, Yoongi turned and his eyes immediately fell on you. ‘oh’, he whispered as his eyes widened in surprise, and you cracked a faint smile.
"didn't expect to see you again." he spoke first, standing up and approaching you.
"Me neither. I was losing hope in playing another round of UNO with you again."
"Well, about that.." scratching the back of his head, he bit his lip sheepishly and confessed, "I kept a box in my pocket for days but then lost track and didn’t think we’d see each other again.."
"Too bad I can't beat you today.." you scrunched your nose teasingly.
"we can play another time?" he suggested, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark pants and relaxing his board shoulders.
"Sure, why not." you averted your eyes from his for a moment before meeting them again with a small smile.
Neither of you said anything for a short moment. it wasn't exactly awkward—or at least not from your end—in fact, something deep inside kept eagerly nagging, pushing you to say something and keep pulling strings of conversation from the man before you. so, you decided to comply and chat up with a hint of hesitance hanging from your teeth, "You work here?"
"oh, yeah. with a friend of mine." he answered, "is there anything specific you'd like?"
"no, I’d just discovered the place so I was walking around."
"I see… coffee? or do you prefer tea?"
"Coffee is good."
"Alright, come with me." He led you upstairs, told you to take a seat, and started preparing two cups for the both of you. Truthfully speaking, the cozyness of the store caught you off guard. really. It didn't feel like a shop, no, it felt like a private reading space in the comfort of your own house. For a moment, you felt sad as you wondered whether it was a painfully underrated place or not. It would've been such a shame if a place like that one wasn't appreciated enough, you thought.
a stretched out arm placed a cup in front of you. looking up, you were reminded of his presence once again.
"there you go," he said and sat across from you.
"How's the situation here?" you inquired, fingers hugging the warm mug between your hands.
"pretty good. We started recently, but it's already going well."
"I see." you nodded your head and took a sip, "Associating readers and bookworms all day must be nice."
"It's fun, sometimes." he hummed, "Are you one?"
"a bookworm? not really, no. I mean, I do love reading but I'm almost always busy filming so.."
"filming…?"
"oh, yeah. I'm an actress. a very not well known one, at that." you chuckled.
"That's cool." you could read elements of genuine interest off of his expression. you weren’t sure why, but it made you smile.
"you think so?" you asked.
"Of course I do. acting has always been interesting to me."
The two of you exchanged bits of comments and opinions for a few more minutes. it wasn't until you glanced down at your wrist watch that you realized it was time for you to leave.
"But you haven't picked a book yet," he insisted when you got up and bid your goodbyes.
"there were too many good ones, I really couldn't choose."
"Wait, come with me." you trailed along behind him as he headed downstairs, until he came to a halt and showed you a tall bookcase. written on the very top was a big “BLIND DATE WITH A BOOK”. Each one of the books in it was wrapped in the same gray paperwrap and had words scribbled on it. after a quick glance, you could tell that they were short anonymous letters.
"People drop mystery books here all the time. see if you find something that stirs your interest?" Yoongi proposed.
Doing as he said, you went through the notes, reading each one carefully, until one grabbed your attention.
“for the mourning soul,
harried and frayed at the edges,
this is a hug from me to you.”
It read.
“Good choice.” somewhere to your left, you could hear Yoongi softly muttering.
"baby, please listen to me!" he pleaded, hand tightening around your arm to prevent you from walking away.
"What more do you have to say? I saw everything with my own eyes!" your voice cracked as you held a sob in, trying so hard to hold yourself together and not break down in front of the man that just broke your heart with no care.
"it's not what it looks like! I love you, why'd you think I would lie to you?!"
and all of a sudden, every word known to man vanished from the top of your tongue. your brain went blank, your face frozen. all you could muster was a faint "...you.."
“Cut!” the director’s voice rang out and sliced its way through the scene.
Everyone on set looked at you with knitted brows as he walked up to you, pulling you aside. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, mentally preparing yourself for whatever remark he was intending to deliver your way.
“__, we’ve done intense scenes like this one before. I know you can do better.” he crossed his arms, eyebrows inching closer to each other as he spoke.
“I'm sorry, sir. it's just so ha-"
“How hard can it be to express and demystify being cheated on? have you never been cheated on before? just conjure that picture up, then translate and convey it. it’s not that hard.” he rolled his eyes and instructed with a sharp tone. it made your stomach twist again and you felt sick, almost as though those pair of strict eyes grew an arm and bunched you right in the chest, hence your aching bottom lip as you chewed at it and looked down at your feet.
and with a timid voice, you answered, “I know, I'm sorry, I will try my best.”
“right.” was all he muttered before he walked away, announcing a ten minutes long break to the whole crew.
it took everything within you not to walk up to him and scream at his face until your throat bled and burned with an old rage. you really wanted to do that, but you didn’t. you couldn't. so you just stood there and watched the room move like nothing had been said.
A guy walked in. He hastened to reach the director and whispered something in his ear. another guy came up and handed you a cup of coffee. you thanked him and put your mind to the drink, savoring its bitterness as it washed every corner of your mouth.
some minutes later, your phone beeped with an incoming message:
from Saera <3: There’s something i think you should know. Let's meet up when you’re done.
Planning it all step by step was what the universe had done. the director suddenly called it a wrap, and the room was moving quicker than before.
“Here’s your bottle, miss.” a blond bartender said with a sweet grin on his face. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a necklace sitting comfortably between the partially exposed pecks of his chest—a sight you were sure you didn’t see a few minutes ago since the first few buttons of his shirt were definitely not unbuttoned.
You muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ and opened the bottle of your favorite alcoholic drink, filling the empty glass you were clutching with the other hand and taking a decent sip. it burnt as it washed down the walls of your throat, to your chest and spread all over your system.
“Oof, I really needed that.” hissing, you threw your head backward.
Over the past couple of months, that bar came to be a comfort zone for you. when the emotions you tenderly carried in the palms of your hands overflowed and raced down your arms, reaching your elbows to then drip like heavy raindrops by your feet on the floor, you rushed your way to this pub to pat it dry.
Maybe it was the coziness of its vintage interior decor presented to the visiting eye that pulled you in. or the quiet atmosphere that lured every presence that steps into the place with curious eyes, welcoming it with a warm embrace and a gentle smile. or the hushed voices of customers spending their time in various of ways and feelings, one sitting alone and sipping on a huge glass of beer with a grim face, another sitting lifelessly with barely opened eyes and a bunch of empty glasses stacked up on the table before them, a couple with tinted cheeks sharing whispered love between each other and some elderly people just hanging out here and there.
The cocky bartender was somehow always on shift whenever you showed up. He seemed to love shamelessly hitting on you with that large smile of his, but Instead of paying him any attention, you fix your eyes on the stacked up bottles and glasses behind him, shining with reflections of soft yellow, and politely smile back every single time. That didn't seem to wind him up, though.
A thick steam of thoughts fogged your mind up as you sat on one of the high red stools lined up at the counter, facing the room with your back and consuming one glass after another.
A soft knock on the wooden counter to your right pulled you out of your wandering thoughts. your back stiffened and your head snapped up. Then you saw him, once again, Yoongi smiling down at you, and he ever so softly said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
He didn't have his sunglasses above his head, you noticed. his fringe fell on his forehead, and he didn't have the piercings on, you noticed that too. Amber light bulbs beamed gold on his pale skin, going perfectly right with the black silk dress shirt he was wearing.
"Are you stalking me?" you said with a thick, slurred voice.
he tilted his head, still smiling, and pointed, "this bar is two blacks away from the bookshop. I like to come here often."
you didn't say anything further—maybe it was just the alcohol, or maybe it was something you couldn't confidently put your finger on, but there was a voice that kept praising his face in the back of your head and you just sat there, listening, observing, red-cheeked, droopy-eyed, motionless.
Yoongi nodded towards the seat right next to yours and muttered, “can i?”
"o-of course!" you spat an answer out, pressing your eyes shut and facing away from him. maybe drinking too much wasn't the best idea that night. or maybe it was that you should've paid more attention and recognized the very familiar street beforehand? either way, you felt too unstable to function in front of another human being at that moment.
"You look troubled." was the first thing he said after the batista had come, served him the drink he ordered and left again.
"ah… just tired."
The man didn't say anything for a while. The frown he immediately noticed on your face when he spotted you just earlier ran a hundred questions in his brain, however, at the very tip of his tongue laid a question he really wanted to voice out ever since the two of you had met at the bookstore, but he just couldn't.
After giving it some thought, he gathered some strength and decided to just ask his concern away.
“that thing you told me about the other day,” he started, carefully picking his words, and you tried to listen as attentively as your fogged up mind could, "does it still hurt?”
At first, you couldn't understand what he was referring to exactly, not until you thought back on the two times you two had met before.
he watched your pointer finger, the one you'd been gliding along the rim of your glass freeze. He didn’t speak, neither did you. it seemed like neither of you was breathing for a few seconds. The air in the room was getting colder, and so were the tips of your fingers as they hung above and barely touched the rim.
Gulping the saliva that gathered on top of your tongue, you contemplated whether you should provide an answer to his question or just ignore it like it was never asked at all. This was a question no one had ever asked you since the entire cheating situation had happened. it was always ‘are you okay?' or ‘Did you move on?’. something of the sort. Not once did anyone wonder whether it still stinged your heart every time the image of your ex popped up before your eyes or not. not once did anyone ask if the scene still haunted you after all these months or not.
But it’s not like you were mad or pointing accusatory fingers at anybody. the pain was yours, and only you shall bask and drown in it. only you shall figure out how the fuck to get the hell out of that dark pit and heal from it.
It was just something that you yourself were too caught up in the hurricane of your grief and bitterness to even ask your own self, ‘does it really still hurt?’, ‘Are you getting any better?’, 'are you still stuck?', 'what if you're stuck there forever?'
It took a long moment before you could manage a proper reply to that stirring query. until you uttered a small ‘he died’ loud enough for him to hear.
From the corner of your eyes, you could see him lifting his head, yet he remained silent. you rawly added, "the asshole died in a car accident like nothing had happened at all... tell me," you paused to lift your tremling hand and rest its palm over your chest, right where you heart was beating fast, " how should I mend what’s been ruptured in here now..? Why is it even still hurting..? Why am I mad..? I don't understand. Do you..? I…”
Yoongi took his time to answer, humming then absent-mindedly nodding his head before speaking again, “it takes some time.”
“how do you know that?” you inquired again, lifting your head to have a look at his side profile.
“I know how it feels to be abandoned by someone so special, at the very least.”
“you got dumped?” you blurted.
He let out a breathy scoff, lightly scratching at the skin under his left eye with flushed cheeks.
“did you really have to say it that way?” he hissed playfully and wet his lower lip, eyes pinned on yours, “but yes, my ex left me to chase after her dreams.”
somewhere deep in those dark orbs, you could catch a glimpse of something sorrowful, but it quickly vanished as he attempted to smile and then looked away.
“I guess we’re both losers, then.” you downed the three quarters full glass in one draft. The room was spinning. you were feeling gradually more light-headed.
“We are not losers just because we got our hearts broken.” Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t sound that buzzed yet. his voice got deeper, and his words stood steady the more he talked.
“Then what are we? If not a loser, then what does being cheated on or abandoned for some worldly goal make you?" tears started welling up from deep inside, but even in your dizzy state, you couldn't let them out. not at that moment, not with Yoongi some inches away from you. you gulped, and with a trembling voice, you muttered, "being stuck in one square while they move on with their lives and build castles for themselves, then have the audacity to die like nothing had happened at all, what does that make you?”
“a lover. being betrayed by a loved one despite all the unconditional love you offered makes you somebody who loves so sincerely. a wretched lover."
you allow his words to set in, analyzing them briefly and pondering before letting a snort out.
“That's even worse.” you said, bitterly.
Yoongi smiled, equally bitter as you, "turns out we're actually more similar than I had thought."
a ‘do you need anything else, dear?’ popped your little bubble up when the bartender showed up again, not once glancing at the man sitting right next to you as he addressed all of his attention towards you.
“no, we’re leaving.” came a sharp answer from Yoongi, and when you glanced at him you saw that his face held a stiff expression, one that was very different from the wide smile and crinkly eyes it was displaying some minutes ago.
The bartender turned his head towards him with a flat smile, then excused himself to serve some new customers.
“we’re leaving?” you tilted your head with furrowed eyes in confusion.
“yeah. you look gone as hell, and it’s getting late.” he started getting up, “i’ll give you a ride.”
“That sounds about right.” absently nodding your head, you stood up as well, and he guided you out of the building.
The door to your flat beeped once automatically unlocked, and just as you stepped in, you were faced with Saera. she stood there with her hands on her hips, eyeing your drunken state, unsatisfied. her shoulders lowered, and her brows rose as soon as she caught sight of Yoongi standing right behind you, then said: “you two..”
Yoongi began explaining the situation briefly to her, scratching the back of his neck as he stuttered on his words and blushed.
“she's not that wasted. All is good. Just put her to bed.” he finished his summary and hummed, satisfied with himself.
Before Saera could say anything, you grumbled an “I can take care of myself just fine.” and walked up to your room with unsteady steps, waving them off.
“and I'll go.” Yoongi mumbled, quickly walking out with a ghost of faint red still remaining on his plump, milky cheeks.
#bts yoongi#yoongi#bts#yoongi scenarios#yoongi drabble#yoongi fluff#yoongi x reader#bts scenarios#min yoongi#yoongi angst#suga fluff#suga angst#strangers to friends#friends to lovers#bts fic#suga fic
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The Warrior's Wrath - Part 2
Source for pic
Word Count: 5994
Tags: Medieval Scotland AU; Highlander Kid; Blurry non-con; Angst without happy ending; Fluff and angst; have I mentioned ANGST? soft Kid; feral Kid; Blood and gore; Killer might have a crush on reader (didn’t notice I did this until I was editing); MDNI!!! 🔞
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Summary: You and Kid, the fiercest worry of your village, get married and happiness is just within your reach. Until Blackbeard, the laird, comes to claim prima nocta and takes you. Somehow, you are able to placate Kid’s anger before you go, yet, when you return filled with marks and bruises, Kid can no longer be controlled.
Notes: Highlander Kid lives rent free in my head and I can’t help it. This one got away from me, though. I meant it to be around 5 or 6k words, it turned out to be almost 13k. Historical note, there’s no concrete historical evidence to support the existence of prima nocte, but this story was heavily inspired by Braveheart - God, I love this movie. I do hope you enjoy it! I’m so sorry for breaking your heart again. I thrive on angst!
PS: Decided to compromise and split this into two parts but posted at the same time!
Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane
MASTERLIST
|Part 1|
Kid slept through lunch and most of the afternoon and when he woke up, you had already instructed Killer to ask him for help with a very important task that needed his craftsman expertise, so he wouldn't observe you too closely again.
Killer gave you a frown and a veiled judgmental look that you decided to ignore and, by the time they returned, you had dinner on the table. Kid's portion had a special ingredient in it.
And it wasn't just love.
He fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow and a soft sigh left your parted lips as you cleaned the table and applied more poultice to your wounds. They seemed less inflamed now. Their colour was a bit more faded and the swelling on most of them had gone down.
You nodded as you prepared for bed. You could do this.
-*-
You were woken by a wave of heat and pleasure. Something so strong that immediately pulled a moan from your open mouth.
The room was dimly lit by the light of the crescent moon coming through the window and the small flame of the burning embers in the fireplace, but you could make out Kid’s fiery red hair between your parted thighs. Though you didn't need any sight to realise what he was doing.
His tongue licked and lapped at your lower lips, tasting, sucking nibbling. He was teasing you awake with the gentleness of his touch, purposely dragging his tongue around your clit.
“Kid!” You huffed, eyes shutting hard as your fingers clenched the sheets.
“We still haven't tried this bed out, lass. I don't know why I've been so tired, but I'm not postponing this anymore.” His calloused hand grabbed the back of your knee as he hoisted your leg over his shoulder. “The other one.” He commanded you as you silently obeyed and placed your other leg on top of him.
The room was dark. He wouldn't notice the dark finger-shaped bruises around your hips. There was barely any light, he wouldn't notice the crust already coating the bite mark on your right thigh. You could scarcely see the orange of his eyes so there was no way he would notice the purple of the bruises on your buttocks.
Right?
Besides, you couldn't even think straight as he plunged two digits inside you and bullied your throbbing nub. His efforts now only aimed to get you off as you were already awake, all previous gentleness quickly forgotten. The pressure building in your core made your legs clench around his head and he groaned into you, the low vibrato of his voice adding another layer of pleasure, tightening the coil and making your back arch.
The pain from the bruises on your back and the bites on your nape mingled with the waves of pleasure that overtook you almost without warning.
“Mmph, Kid! I'm gonna-...” You didn't even finish your sentence as it turned into a litany of moans and mewls, thighs clenching and squeezing Kid's head, pulling him further into you as you rode out your high on his face. “Stop, enough, love.” You tapped his head lightly as your legs released him from your grasp, clit aching and throbbing, begging for rest.
He emerged with a wicked grin on his face. “All tapped out, lass? This is just the beginning. I'm not done with ya.”
Your heart leapt and rejoiced at his words, but your body was so tired and sore that it begged for rest. You needed to stall him.
“My love, let me just brew us some tea. I'm so tired that I need a little pick-me-up.” You kissed his forehead and swung your legs to the side to get up. You were naked - Kid's work - but quickly stirred the embers in the fireplace, adding some kindling and bringing it back to a roaring flame so you could heat some water. You planned to mix a bit of nightshade in Kid's tea. That would put him to sleep.
Except you didn't notice how your husband silently followed you to the brightness of the fireplace - he was the fiercest warrior for a reason.
As big as he was, he moved with the stealth of a stag, so you didn't hear him until his hand was on your arm, stilling your movements. Biting your lip you tried to suppress a hiss. He could see you clearly now.
All of you.
All of your bruises and marks and cuts.
All of your shame.
Your eyes searched for his, embarrassment and fear written all over your face. He gazed at you with a piercing scowl on his lips, orange orbs scrutinising every bit of skin, taking in the full extent of what the laird had done to you.
To his wife!
“Kid…”
“So ya weren't disgusted by me.” He grunted. “I thought ya just didn't want me anymore. But ya were just hiding this.” He dragged out the last word, his growl shifting the sound to something dangerous.
“I…”
“That fucker.” The eerie calmness of his voice made all the hairs on your body bristle and brought tears to your eyes. This was what you wanted to avoid.
The tea, he needed the tea.
“Let me just-...” He cut you and your movements off by grabbing your waist and laying you down on the deer pelt you had on the floor - you had put it there for cuddling.
“Shut up, lass.” His voice was hoarse and pained. He forced you to lie back as his eyes ran over your body, taking in all the wounds, bites, scratches, cuts and bruises. There were so many. You knew.
You lay still. Your eyes shut as you tried to keep your tears hidden inside. You never wanted to hide something like this from him, but you had to.
“Did ya really think I wouldn't notice this?” You had never heard him speak so calmly. It was another stage of rage you had never encountered. And it was terrifying.
“I hoped I could hide it from you.” The whisper that left your lips felt foreign and odd. And you still couldn't meet his gaze.
“For how long? Ya were going to deny me for how long?”
Biting back a sob you shook your head and scrunched your shoulders. “How long it took.”
“That fucker hurt ya. Why? Ya fought back? If ya wanted to fight I was ready for it before he took ya! Ya didn't have to do it alone!” He emphasised his anger with a punch to the floor and you inhaled deeply. This type of anger you were familiar with.
“It wasn't like that. He realised I wasn't a maiden anymore. Then he ripped my wedding dress and told me he would make me forget you.” Finally your eyes met Kid's as you smirked and a silent tear ran down the corner of your eye. “I told him there was no chance of it happening with his tiny dick.”
You saw as your husband's lips twitched, and his orange eyes brightened with the slightest hint of humour. Yet he didn't laugh.
“So he did that.” He gestured to your body and you nodded solemnly. You had to find a way to drug him before he did something drastic.
Except he just inhaled. A deep breath as he closed his eyes. You could almost feel his anger draining away from him so you didn't dare speak a word.
When he opened his eyes, there was nothing but love in them. Kid lowered himself above your body and you felt his lips on yours, very softly, then they moved towards the bruise on your jaw. You let out a low hiss because of the pressure but he didn't say anything. Instead he continued, kissing every bruise on your neck, on your breasts, chest, belly, legs, thighs…
Your husband worshipped your body like he had never done before. You knew he loved you deeply, and you loved him beyond anything rational, but he showed his love with coarse gestures, with brutish affection. Never like this.
Slowly you laced your arms around his neck, pulling him back to you just as you saw his fist clenching, knuckles turning white and veins protruding from his biceps. He was stuck on your thighs, where there were some of the worst bruises.
“My love.” You brought him back to reality, pressing your lips firmly against his, noticing the lingering scent and taste of yourself in his mouth, not caring one bit. “It’s still me. I’m fine. Forget it, please forget it.”
Kid didn’t say anything. He pressed his knee against your legs and you parted them so he could slot himself there. He kept trailing kisses all over your body. Soft kisses. So, so soft. He was trying to caress you at the same time, but with only one arm he couldn’t find support to keep upright.
Grunting and cursing about his limitation, he sat down and used his arm to hoist you up so you could sit on his lap, one leg on each side. You used this leverage to grab his face with your hands, tracing your fingers through the scar on his face and kissing him gently. “Kid…” You didn’t quite know what you were about to say. Something to try and steer away his anger.
Whatever it was, it was quickly set aside when he claimed your lips again. A kiss so sweet and so soft, so unlike anything you were used to, that it almost brought tears to your eyes. Clawing with your hands, you pulled his shirt over his head and aligned yourself with his hard dick.
His arm circled your back as his hand settled on your nape, deepening the kiss and he gave a gentle thrust, sheathing himself completely and swallowing your soft moan. You rocked your hips gently, following his slow pace.
It was utterly different from all the times you had been together with him and yet, still as pleasurable as when he was using you brutally. You couldn’t explain why this heat coming from within you felt different, except that it just did. It built in soft waves, spreading slowly to your toes and making your head light. So much so that you had to bury your face in the crook of his neck, your fingers tangling themselves amidst red locks as faint moans escaped your lips, just to keep you tethered to reality.
His head fell on your shoulder as well, lips kissing softly instead of biting angrily; his hand caressing you instead of pressing and bruising. He was treating you as if you were a delicate flower instead of the wild thistle he knew you were.
And for all the old gods and the new, you didn’t even know you needed to be treated this gently until the tears started streaming down your face. Hot droplets, one or two at first, and then an unending torrent. You saw them fall on Kid’s shoulder, and you were sure he felt them because he stopped for a second before resuming his languid, soft thrusts.
“It���s ya and me lass.” He whispered near your ear while his arm gripped you tighter. “Always ya and me. Always.” He punctuated each word with a harder thrust and the wave of pleasure that hit you with the last ‘always’ came unannounced, crashing over you like a raging tsunami, making you cry out his name as your whole body clenched around him, locking him in a desperate embrace.
He finished a few thrusts later and you remained locked together for a while. You don’t really remember falling asleep, you recall him softly cleaning you up and helping you to bed as you muttered softly: “It’s me and you Kid.”
And then darkness took over.
-*-
The dawn came too fast. Light seeped through the window lazily as the birds chirped their morning song, too close to your window, reminding you that it was time to get up and get ready for the day.
You felt happy. Your heart lighter than it had been since your wedding day. Last night you had made love with your husband. You loved the way he roughed you up, taking you hard and possessively, claiming you as his whenever and however he pleased.
But last night felt different. And it was healing in more ways than one.
Your hand reached for his side of the bed, searching for his body so you could claim some cuddles and kisses. Even if he protested a bit, you knew he was a softie for your affection.
But the bed was cold and he was gone.
Gasping, you jolted upright, stifling a cry of pain as your body protested with the effort. Your eyes immediately went to the mantle, to the designated place of his axe, silently praying and begging all the gods for it to be there, resting idly against it.
It wasn’t there.
Nausea overtook you and you barely had time to find a bucket to vomit of bile that surged up from your stomach. You knew where he was.That was why he had been so gentle and so caring last night.
He had gone to seek vengeance.
-*-
After he put you to bed, Kid donned his kilt, a scowl on his lips as he regarded your spent, sleeping form. He could still recall the shape and indent of every bruise, every bite mark, every scrape and - that fucking fucker - every cut.
There was no way he would let this pass.
Throughout the night you were gone, he had come to terms with what happened. Flanked by his best friends - Killer, Heat and Wire - they had drunk themselves into a stupor. He was willing to forgive that laird bastard for what he had done.
Kid had promised you.
But now he was seeing red. After what he had seen, after the marks that useless arse had left on your body and your soul - your tears had broken Kid in two - he would never let that bastard live another day.
With you tucked safely in bed, he pressed his lips to your forehead. You were the love of his life. He had never felt this way about anything or anyone. He had learned long ago that vulnerability was a weakness, something to be taken advantage of.
Except with you.
With you he could be vulnerable, kind, gentle, warm… you would never judge. Only reciprocate.
“I love you forever.” He mumbled into your hair as his hand lingered with one last caress before he left your home.
He was going alone. With all the rage he felt, he knew he could take on the world if it stepped in his path. Except the one who did was Killer.
“Where ya going?” Killer asked, a soft chuckle letting Kid know he already knew the answer.
“Claim some blood. Wanna come with?” The growl that accompanied his statement was involuntary.
“Been waiting for it. I saw that fucking bruise on her jaw. That fucker.”
They both started to pace towards the dense forest. “Those were not the only ones. He scarred her all over. Fucking bastard, I’m gonna carve a grin on his fucking face.”
“We’ll help.” Heat and Wire said, emerging from the shadows.
Kid grinned maniacally. Fuck, the four of them would burn the world down.
Just for you.
-*-
As you left the house, looking frantically for Kid, hoping he was just sparring with Killer, you realised that all of the four warriors were gone. Your stomach churned again and you threw up some more behind a bush.
Your worst fears had come true. This was all your fault, you forgot to give him the tea.
Tears streamed down your face as your heart clenched in your chest. He would come to you alive, you knew that perfectly well, but he would never live down the murdering of a laird. He would be sentenced and executed. Hanged, most likely, beheaded if there was any justice left in this world.
But he would be torn from your arms. For eternity.
As you slumped to the floor, your wet eyes fixed on the battered path that came from the woods and led straight into the village, you heard him. A boisterous laugh, a thunderous cocky roar of victory. He’d done it.
-*-
Kid had gone straight to the laird’s quarters, leaving his men to handle whatever else came along. They were told to try and hold back on the killing, but they were free to do as they pleased.
Fortunately for them, most of Blackbeard’s household hated his guts. They let them pass without bothering them. Only some of his personal guards gave them trouble. But Kid strode on. His eyes burned with rage, his hand clenched around the handle of his axe, which was calling for blood.
Kicking the door of his room down, Kid rejoiced from the startled yelp that came from the bed. The bastard had been in a deep slumber, but Kid wanted him wide awake for what was coming next.
“Lass, go away.” Your husband growled at the girl that was in bed with Blackbeard, a very young girl. And that only managed to fuel Kid’s rage. A groggy Blackbeard tried to get up, but Kid drew a knife from his belt and threw it at him, hitting his nose with the hilt and eliciting another yelp.
“Ya stay right there.”
With two long strides and while the laird was still clutching his nose in pain, Kid approached and, as soon as his enemy removed his hands from his face, he delivered a powerful punch to the same spot where the knife had hit, effectively making him lie back down.
“I said, stay down, fucker.”
Kid snarled, his lips curling back, revealing his menacing canines.
Blackbeard opened and closed his eyes between groans, as the punch from your husband had made him very dizzy, almost unconscious. A perfect stage for what came next.
With dexterous fingers, Kid tied Blackbeard’s wrists together, threw them over his head, and secured them to the bedpost. He repeated the procedure with his legs, and then nodded in approval.
“Just like a fucking pig ready for slaughter. Ya fucking asshole.”
The laird blinked, his mouth opening and closing, revealing his many missing teeth and lending him a terrified look. Your husband leaned down, putting his face right next to Blackbeard’s bleeding nose. “Remember me?”
Blackbeard spat in Kid’s face, which only managed to make Kid's cackle more menacing. “I remember your wife very well. She squirmed a lot beneath me and-...”
Kid didn't let him finish as his forehead collided with Blackbeard’s mouth, knocking out a few more teeth. “Keep my wife's name out of ya filthy fucking mouth or I make this last way longer than it needs to. And ya won't like it.”
“Her name wasn't the only thing in my mouth.” He taunted and Kid cracked his knuckles against his leg.
“The long way it is, then. Even better.” It was a good thing that Blackbeard was too busy blinking back tears from the sting of the headbutt, or he would've noticed the unhinged glint in Kid's eyes.
It was also fortunate that he was spitting out teeth and blood for a good part of the minute because he missed seeing Kid lay out his knives, ready to exact his vengeance. In the slowest, most painful way possible.
-*-
You got up on shaky legs, nausea still making you wobbly, but you strode with purpose towards your husband, your eyes wide as saucers and your mouth hanging open.
You had seen him bloodied from fights and hunts before, but right now he was soaked in blood. Head to toe, there was barely an inch of skin that was clean.
With each step you took, more tears fell from your eyes, and your heart clenched more tightly. Breath hitched in your throat as your limbs trembled and shook relentlessly.
“You idiot, reckless, careless, moron!”
Killer whistled as he, Heat and Wire stepped out of your way.
“Feckless gowk, you're always, always, thinking with your fist instead of your head, Kid! Why?” Your voice grew louder and louder, reaching a screech so high that would make a forest banshee squeak in fear. As soon as you reached him, he greeted you with his cocky smirk, tilting his head sideways and looking down at you with a bit of blood smeared near his lip.
“Hello, lass. Miss me?”
You clenched your fists, relentless tears still dripping down your face, drenching you in sorrow. Pressing yourself against him, you punched his chest, over and over while your eyes tightened and sobs clawed at your throat.
Somehow you still managed to speak between heaves and hiccups.
“You promised me a lifetime! A lifetime entails an actual life! Why did you do this, Kid, why? Gods, why?” Your legs gave out but before you collapsed, his strong arm enveloped your waist, pulling you into a crushing embrace.
You locked eyes with him and his were filled with tenderness. Something he reserved only for you.
“Lass, for ya I'd make the whole world bleed. Over and over again until all the rivers ran red.”
His words hung around you, heavy and painful and you kept sobbing into his chest, your fingers clawing and clenching his blood-soaked shirt.
“It's ya and me, love. No one in between.” He finished as you felt yourself drifting into unconsciousness. “Forever.”
-*-
You barely had a few hours with him before the sheriff came to take Kid away to the gaols. He didn't protest. You however did.
Your screams were heard all over the Highlands. How it wasn't fair, how the laird was dreadful and terrible and how no one liked him or thought he was fit to lead. You even showed them most of your bruises.
When none of that worked, you dropped to your knees and pleaded. You begged like never before.
To no avail.
They didn't even let you say goodbye to him properly.
-*-
Kid had weeks to ponder his wrongdoings as he sat in jail. He was pondering all right, but they were not wrongdoings in his eyes.
He thought about the way it felt as the tip of the knife sank into the laird’s thigh, right where you had a mark. He thought about the cut he made from Blackbeard’s lip to the exact place where the bruise on your jaw was. He also thought about the joy it gave him when he ripped the laird’s balls out with his bare hands.
It was such a shame the bastard passed out from shock and blood loss immediately afterward. Such a shame.
On other days, most of them, actually, Kid thought about you. Your scent, your touch, your lips, your hair, your smile…
But mostly, your love.
-*-
You tried everything. You spoke with the highest ranks in the clan - the ones who were deciding both Kid's fate and who ruled the land - but they quickly dismissed you.
You spoke with the druid who had officiated your wedding but he couldn't do anything to help. When you managed to speak with the sheriff, he told you Kid had made a deal of his own. He would gladly pay the ultimate price and serve as an example: even if the laird was a total bastard, there could be no rebellion, much less from within the clan.
But only if his friends were spared the repercussions. Killer, Heat and Wire wouldn't be charged.
The sheriff accepted.
-*-
They decided on a beheading. Which was much more humane than just leaving someone dangling from a noose. That was torture if the neck didn't snap right away.
Kid was grateful for that.
They were going to make an example out of him, but they were still thankful for the service he had provided. Blackbeard had been in charge for a short time but the damage had been extensive. Both to the vaults and to the towns and villages under his command.
The sheriff confessed - over drinks Kid should have been denied but wasn’t - that he should be made a hero instead of a martyr. But life was just like that. ‘One minute you're here, the next you're dead.’
Kid tried to push his luck a bit more and asked to see you.
The sheriff said he would see what could be done, but his smile and wink gave Kid hope.
Kid just needed to make sure you were all right. He knew you would be mad at him, cursing him, condemning his soul to wander aimlessly with all the grudge you held against his actions, and he needed to apologise to you.
Not for what he did, he would do it all over again - except, maybe, leave the laird conscious for more time - but for what he put you through. And for breaking his promise.
He would love you forever, that he would. Except his forever would be far shorter than yours. And perhaps that was something you couldn't forgive.
-*-
When the sheriff came to get you so you could see Kid, you almost wept. You were knee-deep in your herb garden, trying to gather some peppermint and chamomile to brew a tea that might help keep food in your stomach, as you didn’t seem able to hold anything down these days.
You were mistaken, though. You thought he meant you could bring Kid home to you. But it was just so you could say goodbye. His execution was scheduled for the next day.
Quincy and Killer had to help you through your shock as you tried to regain your breath. Even the sheriff seemed flustered by your fit. Yet how could you help it? When the love of your life was going to be executed?
After your friends forced you to drink some of that tea, you accompanied the sheriff to the gaols, dread making your stomach churn as the nausea returned tenfold. The smell of the gaols alone was enough to make anyone queasy.
But soon enough the sheriff led you to a small room - not his cell - where Kid was waiting for you, his wrist shackled to the stone wall. As soon as his bright orange eyes fixed on yours, you became a sobbing mess.
Closing the distance between you with a small sprint, you jumped and dangled from his neck as he took two steps back gaining enough leverage from the chain to hug you back. “Kid! Kid! Gods… oh, gods…” Burying your face in the crook of his neck, you sobbed and cried until your throat was raw and your tears had dried.
“There, there, lass. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He kept repeating those soothing words, his dry lips placing gentle kisses on your skin. You showed no signs of letting him go anytime soon, so he slumped against the wall and slid down, cradling you in his strong lap as your arms held on for dear life around his thick neck.
After what felt like an eternity, you heard the soft thump of Kid’s head against the wall and you moved to look into his eyes. He looked pained and exhausted as he let out a deep sigh.
“Forgive me, lass.” His mumble made his chest rumble and, instinctively, you pressed closer to him. “I broke our vows. I cannot give ya forever. But I’ll always love ya.”
Fresh tears ran down your face, gathering at your chin and dripping off. You didn’t even bother with cleaning your face as the tears would only carve new paths, like a river that keeps flowing, shaping the earth as it passes.
“Will ya? Forgive me?” You should. You wanted to. But his parting would leave a chasm so big within you that you didn’t know if you could. Besides, there was something else he needed to know.
“I’m carrying a child in my womb.” You said softly. You had suspected it for a while, but now that your monthly cycle had fully stopped, you were sure.
You felt him stiffen against you, the soft caresses of his hand against your back suddenly halting as he turned his head to look into your eyes. You indulged him by lifting your head, a strained smile pressed upon your lips as you realised, far too late now, that this information was bringing regret to his eyes.
If you had known sooner, perhaps you could have prevented this. He might’ve stayed home instead of seeking vengeance. He would still be with you tomorrow, and the day after, and the one after that. Because there would be a child to tend to as well.
Except there was a slight problem.
With a trembling lip and shifting eyes, you grasped his dirty ragged shirt. “I don’t know… gods, Kid I don’t know if the child is…”
“It’s mine.” He roared. A primal growl escaping his lips as he swallowed a hard lump in his throat. “I know it’s mine. I know it, lass.”
You nodded at him, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks once more. “It’s yours.” Kid dipped his head as he took your lips into his and you couldn’t bear the thought that these moments were the last you would spend with your other half. “Kid, beg for clemency. Please, Kid. Beg for your life. Say you’ll repent for your sins. Admit you were wrong and ask for mercy. For me, for the child, for us! Please, Kid, please!”
He shook his head softly, seemingly out of strength to contradict you, and you continued. “Please! They hated the laird, they’ll forgive you if you plead enough! Even if you stay in jail for the rest of your life, please, love! Please!”
The words kept catching in your throat. Desperate, raw, filled with sorrow and grief. You didn’t know what else to do.
He simply kissed your forehead and sighed. “Lass, a warrior doesn’t beg. A warrior has his pride. I will not beg.” He seemed resigned to his fate now, you knew there was nothing else you could say that would swindle his will. He was a warrior through and through and you knew he would never live in shame. Even if it meant he had to be away from you.
“Please…” You begged one last time.
“Love, ya’ll stay away tomorrow. I don’t want ya at the beheading. I don’t want ya to remember me like that. Ya’ll stay home, feed, take care of our child. Raise him to be a strong, powerful warrior like his father. Stay away.”
You shook your head as another fresh wave of sobs made your shoulder heave. “Say you’ll beg, Kid, please, for us…”
“Stay home, forgive me. Make me these promises, lass, so I can go in peace.” This unfamiliar softness in his voice only broke you more. You needed to forgive him so he could rest in the afterlife. You knew that. But you also knew that forgiving him meant you had to accept the fact that you would never see him again.
That he was lost forever.
And that was a terrifying thought.
Instead you pressed your lips against his, deepening the kiss, drawing him close, clawing at his body in desperation and grasping every bit of him, trying to imprint his mark upon yourself so you could forever remember the shape of his body against yours.
After an eternity you whispered: “Aye, Kid. I forgive you. I love you forever.”
“And always.” He finished in a mournful tone.
-*-
Quincy stayed with you. Killer wanted to be at your side, to help you through the pain, but you needed Kill to be there for Kid. You were still hoping he would beg for mercy. Deep down you knew he never would, but there was a very slight tingle of hope in the pit of your stomach and you almost didn’t dare give it any attention.
Your nausea was overwhelming and you were bedridden, barely eating and with no will to even open your eyes.
Noon was the time of the execution. Ten minutes to go.
“He’ll beg. He has to beg.” You whispered to the wind, Quincy was holding your hand, feeding you tea from time to time, her face heavy with the loss.
Five minutes…
“Quincy… he can’t leave me! He can’t!” The sobs and hiccups pulled more bile from your stomach, your limbs trembling relentlessly as your head throbbed and ached.
Noon.
The bells didn’t ring and you hoped. Your breath hitched in your throat. They only rang the bells when the execution was over. The bells were silent.
The bells were silent.
Shallow breaths left your parted lips, your tears frozen in your eyelids as your hand crushed Quincy’s, who stood by you without making a sound.
Then the relentless toll of the bells started. Each toll carved away a piece of your heart. Each chime brought a wave of agony up your chest. Each clang resounded deep in your soul, bringing flashes of the brief time you spent with Kid: his smiles, his frowns, his growls, his eyes… the light in his bright orange eyes which you would see no more.
The pain was unbearable.
With each heave you made, gasping for air that seemed to never reach your lungs, your heart broke another piece. With each wail that left your lips, a part of your soul left with it. Your heart had parted from this world.
And now you were left empty.
Forever.
-*-
“Push! Push, lass! A little harder, come on!” House instructed, her hands deep in your thighs, helping the baby be born.
You were spent. The last eight hours had been laborious, painful and filled with memories. You were physically drained and emotionally exhausted.
“I can’t!” You whined, a fresh bout of tears leaving your eyes as you cursed and tried to push.
“Ya can! Ya know why?” House looked up from your thighs, a wicked smile spread upon her lips as she lifted her bloodied hands and clapped, droplets of blood flying around her. “I see a redhead!”
And with a hearty laugh you gave a final push, your strength renewed, your love rekindled.
“It’s a boy!” House exclaimed as the sweet sound of cries filled your ears.
-*-
The stone marker was very simple. Heat had carved a red flame upon the stone with Kid’s name on it. Every month you visited it, leaving a wreath of wildflowers on top of it. White heather and clovers, primroses and daisies, meadowsweet, and ropes of ivy to symbolise fidelity and eternity.
An exact copy of the headdress you wore on the day of your wedding. You didn’t take any other man, though you didn’t make that promise to Kid, you couldn’t find enough strength in you to give yourself to another person.
And Kid would be waiting for you in the afterlife. You were sure of it.
Your child was already one year old. A fiery redheaded boy, the spitting image of his fierce father. Every night you stared at him for the longest of times, seeing so much of Kid on your son, wishing your husband were by your side to share the joy.
He would have loved to carry the little one on his shoulders, to make him giggle, to spin him in the air… he would’ve been proud to train him in the ways of the warrior, to follow Kid’s footsteps.
He would’ve been proud.
“Your father was very brave. He gave his life to defend our honour. He’s watching us!” The tears were still a constant, but rarer now. The ache in your heart somewhat subsided, but was still there. Throbbing from time to time. A painful remembrance of what could have been.
With a sigh you placed the wreath on top of the stone and uttered the same words you uttered every time: “It’s you and me, Kid.”
Forever and always.
The End
#one piece#one piece x reader#x reader#op#scotland au#highlander kid#kid x you#kid x reader#you x eustass kid#eustass x reader#eustass kid x reader#eustass captain kidd#eustass kid#Spotify
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i know a lot of people have talked about the far planes entities, but will there ever be an explanation (or run down) encompassing all the different places of the far planes? or, because this is dedicated to zooliminology, will this only encompass the entities? i am simply intrigued by the places in which all these creatures reside, and would love to learn more
A list of all known areas at the time has been posted here before, but a post of that manner can be reapeated due to new discoveries.
Here is an updated list of all known areas:
The Far Plains The first area discovered by the Zooliminology Project, and usually the initial area you can clip into. Primarily is comprised of vast, open, green planes and rolling knolls that sometimes sport fences. The sky projects the impression of being around midday and usually have large clouds. The grass found here is not confirmed to be related to real-world poaceae. Large black monoliths known as "gateways" can be found scarcely scattered throughout the area. Home to striders, kytes and maax.
Brutalia A large, geometric area of concrete that sprouts in random directions and does not truly superficially resemble any real-world architecture. The concrete gives way to many interiors and corridors that make it easy to get lost or separated from groups. The sky seems to be in a perpetual state of sunset. The only entities recorded here are longlegs.
Winter An exterior part of the Far Plane that is characterized by a constant state of snow and darkness. This area seems to closely resemble a real-world landscape, but the pseudofloran life here does not seem to grow or decay. The sky routinely shifts between being in either sunset or sunrise to being fully night. The area is covered in a constant mist that obscures faraway landmarks. This area houses fogwalkers and light mimics.
The Rain Lot An exterior area of the Far Plane is categorized by perpetual darkness and constant rain. The area, unlike Winter or the Far Plains, is almost completely flat, leading to light flooding in many areas. Natural light sources include clusters of floodlights. The only entities recorded here are ghosts.
Gamezone A dark interior area characterized by its resemblance to soft play areas and arcades. It is filled with ball pits, tubes, slides, non-functional arcade machines and nets. Rooms in this area tend to be very large with high ceilings. Tubes and other climbable areas in soft play areas can sprawl out by a large magnitude and become difficult to traverse. Sockwyrms are native to this area.
Greenhouses A purely interior part of the Far Plane that houses an abundance of pseudoflora. This area typically has an abundance of natural light sources compared to other interior areas. The pseudoflora inside of this area can vary, along with the style and size of rooms. Entities found here are golbos, princes and queens.
Mariana A dimly lit area characterized by its resemblance to an aquarium. Mariana is perpetually in dark, blue lighting and reflective surfaces caused by large, empty tanks of pseudofluid that hold nothing but pseudoflora. These large containers of water can be open to its surroundings or along walls and thus inaccessible. This area is home to miish, night skies, and spumes.
Miscellaneous Other areas of the Far Plane exist, mostly including interiors, but have either not been explored enough to find their true scope or have not been confirmed to be their own area rather than a subarea of a larger expanse. These places are home to various other entities that have been recorded in prior photographs. Please note that these areas are categorized by researchers and are not a full list nor is it a hard-fast rule. Many areas blur into each other due to the nature of the Far Plane and categorizing areas is done for the purpose of ease of cataloging explored areas and found entities.
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Little bird
Type: one shot
Pairing: Rhysand x fem!reader
Based off of this request
Masterlist here
Angstttt- torture, kidnapping, death, no comfort.
“I’ll go.”
“No you won’t.” The high lord- and my mate quickly protests. We need someone to go to the Autumn court, with Cassian, Mor obviously wasn’t going to be forced to do this, Azriel was out on another mission, Amren wasn’t going for- again, obvious reasons; and Rhysand was drowning in work. It only made sense for me to go with Cassian, which is what I tried to argue to my husband.
“Rhys. Baby it’s three days, I can handle myself- plus, Cassian will be there too.” I’m stern as I stare at the male.
“Fine.” He sighs, “but- I want updtates every night and if I suspect anything weird from the bond- I’m coming down right away. Understood?”
“Yes love. I’ll go get packed and me and Cass will leave in the hour.” I give Rhysand a soft kiss, my hand going to rest on his cheek as I whisper, “I will be perfectly fine, nothing will go wrong. Promise.”
Rhysand nods softly as I pull away, “goodbye Darling. I love you, be safe ok.”
“Always love. I love you.”
———
“Yn! Yn! Wake up! Please wake up Yn!” I groan in protest to the hands shaking my tired body.
“Wha- Cass? What’s going on?” My head is pulsing and I can feel my skin scraping on concrete.
“We were ambushed as we arrived across the borders. I woke up about two hours ago- I think? We’re in a dungeon somewhere- in Autumn presumably.”
I nod slowly, trying to sit up from where my head rests on my friends thighs. I groan, my head is killing me. I lean against the wall with Cassian, trying to gather my thoughts as best as possible. Looking around- I find Cassian is right, concrete walls surround us, other than the bars leading out into a hallway. A fae light on the outside seems to be our only source of light, and I can hear water trickling further down.
As I try to reach out to my mate, I find our bond blocked- shit. Fae bane.
Me and Cassian sit in the cell side by side for what feels like an eternity, just silently wondering how this could happen. Wondering if Eris somehow planned this or if he was none the wiser.
“Ooh, looks like our little bird is finally awake.” I look up at the voice, jolting as a snap sounds and then my body is hanging, feet chained to the ground and arms to the sealing, hanging in a sort of star shape. Cassian faces me, his arms shackled to a wall above him.
I glad at the man as he steps forward, his hand grabs my chin and I take the opportunity, turning my head and biting down. Hard. He grunts, pulling away, blood leaking from his wound and my mouth as I smirk, showing off bloody teeth. Cassian sits with a mixture of shock and proud as I spit out the crimson liquid. That look switches to horror as I’m back handed, my head swiveling as I spit a tooth out. My chin is yet again grabbed in a rough hold. “Now you listen here bitch. You’re gonna learn to listen and behave. Do you understand?” I don’t respond, simply glaring silently as he throws my head back, walking to a cart I didn’t realize was there. He walks back with a leather strap of sorts- at first I assume it’s a whip, only to realize how wrong I am when it’s strapped across my head and a ball is shoved in my mouth. He gagged me.
He fucking gagged me.
That little bitch.
———
Rhysand started freaking out as the hours ticked on with no update from you. You promised. You promised to update him every night and so far the bond was cold. Too cold for his liking. “Calm down cousin. Shes probably just warn out from the travel. She’ll get to you tomorrow.”
Rhysand shakes his head, unable to understand how his cousin is so calm. She just doesn’t understand.
Finally after much back and forth, Morrigan gets Rhysand to calm down. He could wait till tomorrow to start worrying.
———
Another guttural scream leaves me as a fae bane tipped blade is plunged into my thigh. I had tried staying silent, but after so long of trying, I couldn’t anymore. I was so tired. In the distance, beyond the ringing, I can hear Cassian begging for the man to stop, to hurt him instead, but he is simply ignored.
As said man leaves yet again, I’m dropped from my chains and cassians disappear as well. My friend crawls to me, cooing softly as he cradles my head in his hands softly. “Oh dear. I’m so so sorry Yn. Rhys will come soon. Cauldron I’m sorry. You’re so strong, so brave.”
A small smile graces my lips. “It’s ok. You stay strong. I can handle this. But what I can’t handle? Is seeing you hurt. So just stay strong ok. We’ll get through this.” I’m exhausted, my eyes fluttering shut.
———
My eyes shoot open as the chains reappear around me. But I notice. This is different, there’s a cool metal under me, my body is strapped in a star but I’m strapped down to a table. This is also when I notice- no gag. For some reason this scared me more than the gag and hanging chains, because I don’t know what to expect here. The man walks in, this time, as I look over. I notice he’s carrying a bucket and a rag. Shit. I know what this is. I squirm as he moves forward, my fit bringing him joy as he chuckles, setting the bucket down beside the table as he moves towards me.
“This is gonna be fun.” He smiles darkly as he puts the rag over my face, bending down to get the water. No. No please no. Gods please no.
I hold my breath as he poors the water over me, I hold it as long as possible, but eventually- I have to suck in a deep breath. Gasping and spluttering as the rag gets sucked in, feeling like I’m drowning. I can hear Cassians chains rattling as this continues.
Another snap.
I’m back in the hanging chains.
I wince as I hear the flicker of fire. Fuck. Water now fire. I can’t do this anymore. Ive been holding on for Rhys but at this point im convinced no one is coming, and im exhausted. The man’s words wring through my head as the flame is brought to the bottoms of my feet.
‘They aren’t coming.’
‘No body cares about you.’
‘If they were truly worried, if they truly loved you. They be here.’
And I started to believe him. At first I didn’t, but slowly, I started to believe him, his words clawing into my brain and nestling there. No one was coming for me. No one cared.
———
The next time I’m let from my chains, I land in a puddle of my own bodily fluids, blood, tears, piss, and puke. Fuck. Everything hurt. My mind flashes to the electric rods, the burning that filled me with the electricity. The convulsions caused a minor seizure from what I understood. This- was the cause for the piss I now laid in. My mind moves to the flashes of the whip, beating down on my back, tearing through skin and tissue and muscle. The pain was so severe after fifty three that I pulled my brains out- for the sixth time since we were captured. Next, my mind flashes to the crow bar. I can practically feel my ribs cracking again, I splutter as I cough up more blood. A result of my punctured lung from said crowbar. The same reason for my leg bone sticking out of my skin disgustingly.
But by far. The worst thing. It wasn’t the physical torture no. It was hearing Cassian beg. Beg for them to beat him, to just leave me alone as I’m beaten and bruised. It was the thoughts that now swam around my mind like a whirlpool, telling me that no one loved me. That no one missed me. That Rhysand. My mate. Would be here if he truly cared.
My mate.
He didn’t care.
He probably wanted me gone.
That’s why he agreed to let me go.
“Hey. Hey. Come back to me. Look at me sweetheart.” My eyes flutter open, meeting Cassians as he pets my hair. “Shh. It’s ok. Your ok.” I cough up more blood as I struggle to breathe.
“Cass…I’m-fuck- why has no one come for us? Do they not care.” I gulp a ragged breath of air
“Hey. No hey. Don’t let his words get in your head. They care. They are trying to find us. In fact, they are probably charging here now. Ok.”
I nod, still not fully believing him as my eyes flutter shut again and I float into darkness.
———
“Fuck!” Rhysand throws the table across the room. Three days. Three fucking days! He was close to finding you but not quite able to yet and it was not only pissing him off, but blinding him with rage and agony.
“Rhysand.”
“Fuck! Eris I will fucking kill you! What the fuck do you want! How did you get here!” The son of Autumn is pinned by the neck against the wall.
“Well. Your wards are quite weak. Also- I know where your precious mate is.”
“Where?” He growls, calling for Azriel in his mind. Once the shadowsinger arrives, they are winnowed to Autumn, the dungeons under the castle to be exact.
“All I can tell you is a few of my father’s men took them. They will be down here. We better hurry.”
The three tear through the halls. Till finally, they reach the cell they are looking for.
———
“-Fear bo evil. Feel no pain.” Cassian finished the prayer to the mother, sending you off to a peaceful land of eternal sleep. Pushing your hair back and kissing your head softly. Silent tears cascading down his face as he cradles your broken body.
“Cass?” Rhysand drops to his feet beside his friend.
“I’m so sorry brother. She was so strong, so brave. But- I. I couldn’t save her.” The brothers eyes meet, nothing but pain rushing through them as Cassian hands his brother his mates body.
“Fuck baby. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. Forgive me love. Please forgive me.” Rhysand cries and begs, begging for you to come back, to not leave him. Begging for your forgiveness and chanting about how sorry he is.
“Rhysand. I truly am sorry but we have to go. Now.” Even Eris’ eyes prickle with tears and his voice betrays him as he speaks, cracking a bit in the middle of his sentence.
The high lord of night nods, picking you up and moving to the door. The four make it to the house of wind. Rhysand setting your body in the dining room table. Bending over your body, weeping into your cold shoulder. As Mor makes it into the room, she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth as lets out a cry. Falling to her ‘sisters’ side.
That night. The sky was a little bit dimmer- all except the bright shooting star that flew past the house of wind, lighting up the dull night. Rhysand knew. He knew that was you, showing him you’d always be there, always be with him.
—————
Okkkk I hope this was ok? I was really struggling but I hope it’s up to standard? Thank you sm for the request and I promise I am slowly but surely making my way through the lists.
#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#acotar#azriel#elain archeron#elain x reader#feyre archeron#feyre x reader#nesta archeron#nesta x reader#cassian x reader#cassian#rhysand x reader#rhysand#eris vanserra#eris x reader#rhys acotar#eris acotar#whump#angst#no happy ending
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