#mother hen punch

[dragonsbluee]

One of my Straw Hat headcanons is that when the crew learns about how Luffy got his scar under his eye, they all immediately revaluate their impression of Shanks like the true mother hens they are.

Especially after the 2 year time skip, the crew treats Luffy like the treasure he is to them, and when he eventually starts talking about his childhood, it's one of the first stories to be told. They know, of course about how he was given the hat, but this story falls a little before.

"Your main form of supervision as a toddler -

"I was seven!"

"A toddler - was a highly questionable, often drunk or definitely hungover pirate captain who left you unsupervised with a knife?"

"There was Makino too!"

"And we acknowledge that Makino is a gift unto this world -"

"Damn Usopp, really pulling out the stops there."

"Quiet! But anyways, this explains so much."

"Emperor of the sea? So what, you're one too! We need to have a talk about how he chooses to care for children."

"Wait 'till I tell you all about Uta!"

"WHO?!"

Fast forward a few years and Shanks is very confused as to why Luffy's crew seems prickly towards him, and overall not that impressed. Why are they muttering when they see him? Why don't they leave Luffy alone with him? Why do they seem disappointed? Ben, on the other hand, is just thankful that someone finally gets it.

[giuliettagaltieri]

Not Your Girl

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: You opened your eyes

Warning: Angst, fighting, injuries

Word Count: 2209

Inspired by this ask

 “God, Y/N.  I’m fine.”  Rafe pulls your hand from his collar.  But you click your tongue at him. 

“Come on, I promise you look better with it folded properly.”

Rafe glances at his watch.  “We’re running late.”

“Who cares?”  You mutter as you straighten the creases of his shirt.

“I do.”  He snaps before grabbing hold of your wrist and dragging you out of his room, not letting go until you are standing right next to his car.  He opens the door for you and taps his foot as he waits for you to get inside but your steps are too slow with you checking your bag for necessities.

“Tylenol.  Mouthwash.  First aid kit.”  You look up from your bag.  “You still have our extra clothes in your trunk, right?”

“Yes.”  He spoke impatiently, his bored stare sharpening.

When you finally get inside, he slams the door extra loud, startling you, but you shrug as you fasten your seatbelt.

Rafe jams the key in and ignites the engine.  He’s about to step on the pedal when you place a hand on his chest.

“Seatbelt.”  You smile sweetly and he bites back a retort, only choosing to roll his eyes and fix his seatbelt.

“Happy?”  He spoke sardonically and you scan your eyes over him and grin.

“Yes.  Just remember not to go over the speed limit.”

This is why he didn’t like to invite you to parties.  You act like a mother hen, and him, your baby chick.

You are glued to his side the whole time.  He understands this behavior back when you were six, but you’re fucking adults now, when are you gonna grow out of this?

With you by his side, he can’t score on some chicks.  Them thinking that you’re his girl, thus extending his dry spell. 

But there’s that new girl by the punch tables.  Standard hot girl, lean, tanned, long legs, and bleached hair.  She’s shyly looking at him, but she’s not exactly being discreet either.

“I’ll get us something to drink.”  He pries your fingers one by one from his arm. 

“I can come with you.”  You suggest hopefully but he’s already heading to the punch table.  You head to the side, sitting on an old and broken down cobblestone wall as the night breeze nips your skin.  Just smiling and nodding at the people you know while watching the rest of them have fun.

The party is in full blast.  There’s a lot of Tourons joining the party too.

You wonder what’s taking Rafe so long.

Deciding it was best to go look for him, you get up from your seat.  You brush the dust off your shorts as you tighten the button up that you stole from Rafe’s closet around your body.

Just as you start looking for him, you notice hurried footsteps and cheers from one side of the party.  A guy bumps into you but he quickly hooks an arm on your waist to keep you from falling.

“Oops.”  He laughs.  “Sorry, Y/N!”  It was JJ and you watched him run with the others.

“What’s going on?”  You mutter.

You hear a sigh next to you and you turn to see Sarah and Kie, looking at the gathered crowd in disappointment.  Sarah turns to you with a tired face.  “Rafe got in a fight with a Touron.”

They look at you in pity as horror crosses your face.  As you run to the fight, they shake their heads.  You’re too good for this world.

You run as fast as your legs can carry you, hands pushing people away just to get through. 

When you finally do, you see Rafe with a busted lip, his chest squared up and heaving as he looks at his opponent who is barely standing, leaning his weight on some girl you don’t recognize.  His face was red in certain places, his eyelids swollen, two nostrils bleeding.  Is he missing a tooth?  Good God.

Rafe was yelling insults, how this is his island, he’s about to march over when you throw yourself on him, arms tightly wrapping around his torso to keep him from moving.

“Y/N! Fucking let go!”  He grips your arms tightly, adrenaline clearly coursing through his veins.

“No!  That’s enough!”  You say sternly as you bunch his shirt on your fist.  “We should go.  Please!”

Rafe scoffs.  “I said, let go!”

When you only tighten your grip, he curses and throws the guy one last glare before dragging you with him back to his car.

“What were you thinking, beating up that guy?”  You say in disbelief as you make him lean against the hood of his car while you dig through your purse.  

He curses at you when you dab a wet wipe on his lip.

“If you don’t get in stupid fights, I won’t have to clean you up now, will I?”  You reply angrily before slapping his hand away and dabbing gently.  You play oblivious to his searing glare.  Trying to ignore his hisses when you accidentally dab too roughly.

“Why’d you decide to make that guy a punching bag, anyway?”  You ask while smearing a disinfectant ointment on his wound.  Your heart beating wildly at your close proximity.

Rafe clicks his tongue.  “His girl was flirting with me.”

You look at him in disappointment, making his blood boil.  He hates receiving that look, it reminds him of how he constantly fails his father.

“You must have encouraged her too.”  You really don’t know when to stop.

“Shut up, alright?”  He pushes past you.  “It’s not like I knew she had a fucking boyfriend.”

You sigh as you tidy up your kit.  Rafe opens the door for you and you take your time in getting in.

“Why’d you have to flirt with all the girls at every party?  Can you think with your mind next time and not with your dick?”  You mutter under your breath as you glare at nothing in particular, upset that he’s got himself into trouble, and upset that it’s because of a girl.  Again.

“That’s it.”  Rafe slams the door before you can take a step in, the impact makes you gasp, your fingers nearly crushed by the door.  Your eyes are wide and afraid as you look at him.  He backs you up until your back is flushed against the door.  He rests an arm over your head, as he points a finger dangerously close to your face.

“Rafe-”

“I’m fucking done with your bullshit.”  He spoke through gritted teeth.  “If you think you have the right to speak to me this way, let me tell you something.  You don’t.”

You bite your lower lip, eyes turning glassy as you fight the urge to cry.  “I’m just concerned.”  Whatever immunity you thought you had from his anger crumbles like sand on the palm of your hand.  You’re no exemption from his outbursts, apparently.  You’re just like everybody to him.

“I didn’t ask for your concern.”  He laughs dryly.  “And I don’t care about your stupid crush on me, either.”

Your lips part as you blanch, looking at him in embarrassment and frustration.  Your palms sweat as your fingers twitch, wanting nothing else but to get swallowed by the earth.

“Yeah.  You think I don’t know about your feelings for me?”  He laughs at you before he slams a fist on his car, making you scream and cover your ears in fear.  “It’s kinda cute, you know.  Watching you chase after me, clean after me, do everything I say like a pathetic puppy waiting for a treat.”

Something inside you snaps.  “Stop talking.”  You hiccup, tears dripping down your cheeks.  

Huh, it’s been a while since he saw those tears.

“Why?”  He asks in feign concern.  “Am I hurting your feelings?”

“Yes.”  You say shamelessly, making him scoff.  “I just wanna go home, please,”

Mascara has ruined your pretty makeup, tears wetting your cheeks as your hair sticks on your temples, making you look disheveled and wrecked.

Rafe looks at you blankly as he runs a tongue on his tooth.  “Fine.”  He runs a hand over his face as he attempts to calm his breathing.  He’s tired of your bullshit for today, he’ll deal with you tomorrow.  “Let’s get you home.”

He opens the door for you and you get in without sparing him a glance, your shaking hands quickly fastening the seat belt.  Rafe looks at you in silence but your eyes are dropped to your feet, adamant on not looking at him.

“You crybaby.”  He spoke lowly and you closed your eyes.  “Get it through your dumb head, alright?  I don’t fucking like you.”

You whimper, arms wrapping around yourself as you shrink away from him.

“Stop doting on me like we’re dating.”  He continues.  “You’re fucking embarrassing.”

“Just take me home, please.”  You sob and for a moment he feels the need to wipe your tears but he stops himself, a frown creases in his brows.

“And don’t fucking boss me around.  You’re not my mom.”  He slams the door and the rest of the drive is filled with nothing but your sniffles.

The thing about Rafe Cameron is that he’s impulsive.  Always speaking his mind without thinking of the consequences.  He is very quick to anger yet very quick to calm down after the stimulus vanishes from his line of sight.  

You can’t keep up with the shift of his emotions throughout the ride.  With him honking at every driver in front of him then suddenly nudging you and pointing at something down the street, laughing like he didn’t just murder you inside.  He really doesn’t understand what he’s done.  He’s a child and you wanna strangle yourself for ever letting yourself love a man like him.

“Shit, Y/N, calm down.”  He groans as he parks outside your house.

You attempt to open the door but he clicks the lock in place.

“Let me out.”  You whimper.

He rests his elbow against the door and scratches his chin.  “Not until you calm down.”

“I’m calm.”  You respond in a shaking voice.

“Uhuh.”  He hums as he rakes his eyes over your face.  “Can’t take a rejection, princess?”

You don’t respond, hands tightening over your bag.

“We’re not in fucking elementary school anymore.”  He props his head against his knuckles as he grins at you.  “And I’m not Rafey anymore.”

“I know.”  You spoke harshly as your bloodshot eyes stared forward.

He chuckles.  “Good, that’s good.”

“Yes.  The ‘Rafey’ I know would never hurt me like this.  You’re not him, not anymore.”  You stare at him blankly.  “He’s gone and I can see that now.”

Rafe straightens up in his seat, biting his cheek as he nods at you, though his mind is still trying to wrap around your words.

“Right.  It’s good that you get it now.”  But why does he suddenly regret all this? 

He’s been trying to get you to understand this for the longest time.  And now that you finally do, all the challenge between you is gone, and he is lying if what is going to happen after this does not make him anxious.  Is this another one of your reverse psychology tricks?  You know it always worked on him.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and he clears his throat, swiftly opening his door and races to your side but you beat him to it.  He swallows thickly as he shoves his sweating palms in his pocket. 

Rafe walks you to your gate but you don’t acknowledge him, even if he pushes the gates open for you.  He tries to catch your eyes but he starts to bleed with the background around you, no longer relevant enough to be looked at.

When you lock the gates, he leans on it and watches you turn away and head to your house.  Leaving without the usual cheek kisses and “see you laters”

He clears his throat.  “Uh…so, tomorrow?”  A desperate attempt to keep you with him a little longer.  

You pause and you turn to look at him with your face cold and hard, so devoid of emotions.  He never thought you’d be capable of holding such a look.  “What about tomorrow?”

He grips on the thin metal of your gate, the weathered paint chipping and clinging to his palms.  “You said you wanted to check out the ice cream parlor that just opened?”  He adds the charming smile he knows you like but your face remains blank.

“I changed my mind.”  You start to walk away again but he calls your name and you look at him with a small frown on your eyebrows.  You really wanted nothing to do with him anymore, huh?

“I’ll call you later?”

“What for?”  You cross your arms and for the first time, he is rendered speechless, his tongue heavy as he racked his brain for a response.

You’re right, what for?

Rafe shrugs while he tugs at his collar.  “I don’t know.  Don’t you like it when we call?”

You sigh.  “Goodbye, Rafe.”

He watches you leave and he tightens his grip on the gate, making the metal dig on his palms. 

“Goddammit!”

He messed up.  He messed up real bad.  And he’s not sure he can still fix this.

Not Her Man • His Girl

[deadsetobsessions]

“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.

“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”

“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”

Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.

“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”

Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.

“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”

“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”

Danny paused. God dammit.

“…Fine.”

“YESSSSSS!!!!”

——

Danny-

“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

-is so damn tired.

“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?”

Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”

Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”

“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.

Danny chimed in.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”

Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”

Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.

“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”

“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”

Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”

They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.

But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.

“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.

Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”

“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”

“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.

“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.

“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”

“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”

"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.

"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."

"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.

"Should we be encouraging that?"

"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.

"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."

"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.

"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"

Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.

“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”

Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”

“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”

“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”

“Sure.”

Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.

“No. Bad Tim.”

“Awww, come on Danny!”

[ellievickstar]

Lover’s Lullaby

A/N: Here’s part 3 of Bloodied Bonds, Part 2 is here, I hope you guys love this as much as I did, I put so much effort into this and I do genuinely apologise for the length of time it took for me to get this out. Thank you so much for waiting I love you all and I hope you guys enjoy!! <3

Summary: Decisions have been made, hearts have been shattered, but can Azriel finally save his beloved?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying, self-sacrificing thoughts

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“You have considered what I said,” She smiled at Azriel, but what once looked sweet and soft now seemed calculated and manipulative.

Azriel went nauseous at the thought of what Elain may have done if the bond had not countered the more extreme effects of the aphrodisiac. Thanking the Mother that all he had done with Elain was hold her hand and even hen he wanted to burn his hands all over again at the very thought.

He really was a dirty low born Illyrian.

And he had not deserved you.

“What do you want from us Elain?” Rhysand snarled, violet eyes brimming with anger.

“Get your fangs away from me Rhysand, do not think for a second that you are in a position to demand for anything,” Elain grinned, “After all, I know how to counter your daemati powers, Azriel himself taught me the basics.”

Casting a glance at Azriel, Rhysand noticed how he had paled significantly, gawking at Elain to remember when he had taught her anything of the sort. Cassian looked all but ready to leap at Elain and tear her to shreds. Rhysand was inclined to do the same.

“Just tell us what you want, Elain,” Cassian ground out. He was tired, sick and tired of being played in this game the middle Archeron sister was playing. He wanted out, desperately.

And he was not even the damned male she wanted.

In all honesty, if this situation had not been as dire as it was, Cassian would have been teasing Azriel for finally being able to attract the females around him.

“I want protection. A guarantee that I will continue to live here, protected by Azriel no matter what,” She smiled sinisterly, “I want a bargain saying that if I tell you how to save your mate you will guard me with your life.”

“But that would mean-“ “Exactly.” Elain smiled again, her amusement dancing in her eyes, malice growing on her face even with the grin plastered on.

Realisation dawned on the three males all at once.

No matter what, Elain would always torment their lives, this bargain only made it that much harder to get rid of her. But it would save his mate…and break her heart at the same time.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Azriel spent half a day agonising over the decision. Rhysand had opted to isolating himself in his study once more and Cassian took his frustration out on a training dummy.

Why?

Why did it have to come to this.

When did it all go wrong?

Cassian wanted to blame himself, in fact a part of him did feel guilty. While helping the Archeron sisters to integrate into their world they had shut her out, and despite her best attempts to assist in any way, Y/N had always been unable to fit in. Like a flip had been switched, he finally recalled every moment where he saw her expressions change, where she masked her pain, her hurt, just to accommodate to them.

After all this time, eventually she had protected them and they had to pay for it. For not noticing.

Wanting to punch himself was an understatement.

Cassian gave his all to the training dummy, recalling how Elain acted, how when Y/N was near Elain would always be cold, how Y/N always dismissed it as just Elain being hostile to her environment, how when Y/N lashed out because she was tired of being treated like shit by Elain, Cassian, Rhysand and Azriel had all stood by Elain and called Y/N unreasonable at first.

Unreasonable.

And now she was dying.

Falling to his knees, Cassian buried his face in his hands, his hair falling over his face as his hair and snapped, and thunder roared above him.

And just like that, he let his tears pour free for his friend, his only sister, he let his sorrow come loose and he cried.

The general of the Night Court, cried.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Rhysand had was familiar with pain.

He had felt pain when his mother was murdered, he had felt pain when Amarantha had tried to torture him during the first war. He had felt pain in war camps and felt pain every single time Cassian punched his face for being stupid or just because of a stupid fight.

Rhysand was familiar with pain.

However, as he sat in the corner of his study, as he curled up against the wall, his head bent over, leaning against the brick, his heart ached. Ached in a way he was more than familiar with but was devastingly painful anyways.

Rhysand had always felt pain.

But as he thought of his sister, at everything she meant to him, at every single time she had called him stupid, told him he was a jerk, every time they cried together, every time they fought with each other, every time they fought for each other.

Rhysand could not stop the pain.

Not as his eyes hurt from crying so much, not even as he tried to curl further into the corner, trying to imagine her warm hug when he was first used by Amarantha. For the first time in centuries Rhysand realised how easily he could lose his sister. Even as he gagged from not easting, even as his legs went numb from sitting in the same position, even when the sky went dark, Rhysand sat there.

“Come home, little star,” He whispered into the darkness, “We can go to your favourite bookstore, I’ll let you put me in a dress again, I’ll even let you put make up and jewellery on me,” He let out another choked sob.

“Just come home.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

When the decision was made, Azriel slowly went to Elain’s room in the dead of the night. Elain stirred softly before she came aware of his presence.

“I will make the bargain with you, but only with one condition,” Azriel spoke softly.

“And that is?” Elain purred.

“The bargain will only be effective if she lives. Because if she does not survive this, I think I would die anyways,” He replied softly. At least this way, his starlight would be safe. His mate would have to live.

“Fine,” Elain shrugged.

And just like that, a tattoo burned onto Azriel’s ankle, and as he glanced down, he saw the outline of a bloodied rose, thorns and all.

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“What in the world,” Cassian breathed.

Azriel had done it, he had made the bargain and now knew how to save Y/N. However, as Azriel explained how it should be done to both him and Rhys, the plan seemed a little…..volatile.

“So we’re supposed to use Rhysand’s daemati powers to enter her subconsciousness, and travel into her mind where it’s probably sitting there thinking she’s asleep, manipulate her subconsciousness to make introduce her to a dreamscape, and from there materialise a dream version in her head of ourselves in order to explain to her this entire mess and convince her that Azriel still loves her?” Cassian repeated.

The long winded explanation was….long, but it did summaries what they were going to attempt. Rhysand tapped his fingers on the desk impatiently as he weighed his options, the plan did seem viable, not something that he had done before, but viable.

The only problem now was….

“Who’s going in to talk to her?” Rhys asked.

How would someone go in and convince his dying sister that her mate, who she thinks cheated on her, still loves her? Who would be the best choice in this?

Pacing from one side of the room to another, he ran his hand through his hair.

“Azriel should,” Cassian piped up, but Rhysand shook his head.

“No he could trigger her and send her in the other direction, he could make her die faster,” Rhysand said.

“Or he could show her that he still loves her, give him a chance to explain and ask for forgiveness, do you think she’ll magically believe what we say? Azriel himself will be his proof that she does not need to die.” Cassian countered.

“No I won’t,” Rhysand shook his head, “I won’t let him hurt my sister again.”

Azriel visibly flinched at that.

Growling at his high lord, Cassian stormed up to Rhysand, snarling in his face.

“Azriel might be the only chance your sister has to survive this! And you are willing to throw that away because you don’t trust him anymore?” Rhysand snapped back, “I am not putting my sister’s life in his hands, not again!”

“She’s my sister too!” Cassian screamed.

Rhysand faltered at Cassian’s words.

“You weren’t there the first time this happened, you weren’t there when I found her, bloodied in the snow, when they tried to kill her when she was 15 because she was causing too much trouble in illyrian camps,” Cassian sobbed, “You may have been her real brother but when you were trying to be High Lord, she was trying to survive without a family! I was her family!” Cassian begun pacing himself now.

“You weren’t there when she got her first crush, when I taught her how to throw a real punch, when I taught her how to fly when she was 10 because her father deemed her unworthy to learn and her mother could not teach her!” Cassian looked Rhysand dead in the eyes.

“She was my sister too, and with all my heart I believe that Azriel is her best shot.”

Hesitating, Rhysand looked between Cassian and Azriel, before nodding slowly.

“Fine.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Sitting beside her bed, Azriel grasped his mates hand for what seemed to be the last time. No. Not the last. He would not allow it to be. Regardless of the cost, Azriel would bring her home.

Hundreds of possibilities ran through his head as he gazed at her sleeping face. She looked like she was sleeping, but it was…wrong. Her head was not in an awkward position for him to adjust, she did not stir ever so slightly in his presence to greet him with a soft whimper that he was breathing too loud. She looked like she was sleeping, but in his bones he knew she was not.

Squeezing her hand one more time, he turned as the door open, allowing Rhysand, Madja and Cassian to walk in.

“Nesta will handle all the training today, Feyre promised to continue overseeing all diplomatic and court duties, we’re all set.” Rhysand explained.

Nodding his head, Azriel set his eyes on the wooden floors as he took a deep breathe, closing his eyes as he let the familiar tendrils of magic curl around his mind. He would bring you home.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

He felt as if he had been walking for hours, his soul on the brink of collapse. The heavy weight on his ever preset body, as he kept going forward into the darkness.

There was no light in this place.

Even as he fell to his knees, he crawled, only one person on his mind. But where was she? Where was he?

He could only keep crawling, moving, doing anything but stopping. And even as the ground seemed to swallow him whole, he did nothing.

Maybe he deserved this.

Maybe he needed this.

Pain screamed at him from ever direction, the darkness raging.

Yes.

He deserves this.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

Waking up with a start, Azriel sat up as he looked around him, his memory hazy as he tried to recall the last thing.

Right in from of him was the Sidra, its water currents moving as he stared at the river, looking around for signs of anything else. However, the atmosphere was eerily quiet. Velrais, was empty.

Standing to his feet, he let out a shaky swear before taking a moment to stretch all his limbs. This was….Y/N’s dreamscape, her subconsciousness.

But where was she?

Wading through the streets of Velaris, he silently took note of how everything was the same, except there were no people. He could hear the sounds of a bustling city, but it was as if they were whispers of wind, taunting him of a world that was currently not real.

“Y/N?” He called out. If this was her dreamscape, surely she could hear him. That’s when an idea struck him. Grappling for the tendril in his soul, he almost shook with relief when a gold thread appeared in front of him, and he looked to where it led, his heart almost dropping.

Her favourite bakery.

Of course.

Entering the small shop, he saw his starlight in the corner of the bakery, curled up against the plush bright seats, a croissant in one hand and a book in the other.

“My love,” He whispered.

Looking up, your eyes widened as you dropped the book, your mouth agape as you took in the male before you.

“What are you doing here?” You demanded. Your heart palpitated in your chest as you stared at him. He was not supposed to be here. You were supposed to be either waiting for your impending death so your soul could travel to the next life, or wait for Madja to save you.

He just stared at you.

Stared at you, speechless, as he looked over you as if he could not believe you were in front of him.

“I won’t repeat myself!” You yelled.

“Sweetheart, I-“ He started but you flinched away when we tried to walk towards you.

Feeling his heart shattering, he just looked at you helplessly, he wanted to tell you that it was alright, that it was safe, but how could he when he has been the cause of your pains?

“I just came to explain, we found a way to enter your subconsciousness and I came, I needed to explain, I need you to understand-“ “Understand what?” You scoffed, “That my mate, cheated on me?” He shook his head stepping towards you, even as you tried to claw at him to escape, to leave, to do anything but look at him.

You struggled as he grasped your wrists, tried to kick at him, but he would let you hurt him if you just listened.

Even as you calmed, giving in to the fact that he was physically stronger that you, you spoke, “Loyalty, equality, eternal and forever,” You recalled the promises he had made you, “Who would have known the spymaster’s ‘forever’ really meant ‘until there is better’?” You wanted to laugh, laugh at yourself for how foolish you were, cry at how much it hurt to think of how he had broken our trust, scream at how you had hidden your pain to save HIM and now you were the one suffering.

“You are a joke, Azriel, a liar and a joke.”

“Please listen to me,” He breathed, “Please just let me explain.”

“Explain what!? Was she better, prettier, more compliant? Is that it? You couldn’t take the heat of someone so strong headed anymore, right? Too many opinions, too much energy, just too much right? Do you think I haven’t suffered enough? Why are you still here to torment me? Do you think I did not spend enough time agonising over how you loved her more than me!?”

“I was drugged!” He exclaimed.

Silence.

As the words sank in, as your eyes widened and you finally, finally looked him in the eyes.

“I was drugged,” He repeated, “Elain had started sneaking in aphrodisiacs into my tea when I first started accompanying her to help her adjust. I never noticed, I only realised there were blocks of time I could not recall here and there, that everything seemed hazy, but I couldn’t stop it. It was sheer luck that Cassian noticed when Elain was trying to give me the daily dose of it.”

You wanted it to be true. More than anything you wanted what he said to be true. Because that would mean he never stopped loving you, that all the times of thinking you were less than, it meant that you had been wrong.

But you could not.

You refused to give your trust away to him again, because more than anything you knew he held your heart in his hands even now. Instead of delighting in that fact like you used to when you were happy, now you were terrified.

Your life hung in the balance.

And you had to choose yourself.

“Go back, Azriel,” You sighed, “Tell Madja to just kill me, because I am…so tired,” You breathed.

“No, no, no!” Denying your request, he knelt before you, hands on your waist as he buried his face into your abdomen, as his eyes flooded with tears and he shook.

“Please,” He begged, “Please, come home, let me fix this. Please, let me love you, let me show you that there was never a doubt in my own sane mind that I love you. Please.”

The spymaster, on his knees before you. Begging.

“I can’t, Az, can’t you see?” You lifted his chin to look at you, your own tears beginning to well up and trickle down your face, “I’m dying, I’m dying and if you don’t leave this place then you’ll die to. We both know there isn’t enough time.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Azriel murmured, “I’ll go with you and I will follow you, all the way till the end. I told you I will love you, until we are nothing but the stars travelling across the sky of Velaris, I will follow you, and I will love you.” He pulled you down, embracing you, “So don’t make me go, Starlight.”

As you breathed, in and out, in and out, as you let out a choked sob as you finally, finally let yourself embrace your mate, you let out a soft, mumbled, “Okay.”

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

A/N: I know it’s not done but I have one LAST part after this I just wanted to really really really not rush this I tried fitting it all into one last part but sadly I could not next part will be happy I promise.

The people who are crossed out are the ones I could not tag please please please tell me in the replies if you want to be tagged, series taglist will NOT be repeated across parts.

Azriel’s taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

Series taglist: @its-sam-allgood @skylarkalchemist @doodlebugwatkins @buttermilktea11 @lilah-asteria @loverofclones @evergreenlark @tele86 @kingdomofstarrynights @peachyxlynch @annamariereads16 @unlikely-lovers-together @div94 @saltedcoffeescotch @ccacotartoglover @crazylokonugget @tanyaherondale @gabbiskylar01 @mariahoedt @that-one-little-soybean @cat-or-kitten @hauntedstudentobservationus @thefandomplace @minaaminaa8 @amysangel @mich0731 @petersunderoos96 @sidthedollface2 @wallacewillow0773638 @annaaaaa88 @azzydaddy @the-sweet-psycho @alaia-aya @laurzwrites @michellexgriffey @st4r-girl-official @krowiathemythologynerd @anuttellaa @i-am-infinite @iwishiwasaprincess @sad-anxious-muffin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @circe143 @deeshag @acourtofbatboydreams @randombibitch @romantasyreader28 @jojo2343-blog1 @lady-targaryens-world @nayaniasworld @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @mochibabycakes @bookisposts @moonlwghts @rcarbo1 @sunnyspycat @tee-hee135 @winnerwinnerchickendinner22

[fettuccin-e]

Filthy Whispers

I absolutely hc that Steve motherfucking Harrington has a filthy mouth and doesn't even realize it,,, like he just gets so pussydrunk that his brain-to-mouth filter is just nonexistent,, so here we go besties (Tags: Steve Harrington x Reader, unprotected piv, size kink, hints of breeding kink and exhibitionism kink, fem!reader)

With his pretty doe eyes and soft hair and penchant for taking hapless kids under his wing, it’s easy to assume that Steve Harrington is as vanilla as they come. It’s easy to think that under the polo shirts and parental rolls of his eyes that Steve probably just likes it slow and steady, missionary and almost marital.

Anyone who assumes that is fucking stupid.

Steve likes missionary, of course, but it isn’t slow and soft, it isn’t ‘making love.’

No, Steve likes missionary because it means that he can fucking fold you in half, pressing your thighs against your tits while he hooks your calves over his shoulders. He likes being able to lick into your sticky mouth, your pretty lips gaping open over punched out moans while he fucks his fat cock into your dripping pussy.

And despite his stuffy upbringing, his polos and mother-hen tendencies, Steve Harrington has the filthiest mouth you’ve ever heard.

“Goddamn, baby, you hear that? Hear how this sweet pussy is sucking me in? Jesus, sweetheart, been thinking about you all day. Wanted to fuck you over the counter at work, just pull your panties to the side and slide my cock in,” he murmurs into your mouth. He doesn’t wait for any responses to his questions, he just keeps talking and talking while your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“You’d take me in, wouldn’t you baby? Take me all the way inside your little cunt? People would walk into the store, just wanting a movie, right baby? But they’d get a whole different show, sweetheart. Cause I wouldn’t stop; I’d keep fucking you even as people walked in, and I bet you’d scream sweetheart, God. You’re so fucking desperate to be filled up, you’d let me fuck you in front of strangers, anything to get to this cock, right baby?”

You nod deliriously, barely registering Steve’s words he stretches you out so good, reaching so deep inside. Your chest is heaving with the effort it takes to get air into your lungs, only for the air to get knocked out again by each one of Steve’s brutal thrusts. 

“Jesus, you’re fucking dripping, sweetheart. Just gushing over this cock, shit, you’re so fucking hot. Need this pussy all the time, y’feel so good wrapped around me. Wanna- wanna be buried deep in this cunt, all the time baby. Gonna fuck you all the time, sweetheart, just keep  you stuffed full with my cum, dripping out just to fuck it back in. Gotta get you off that birth control baby, so I can get you pregnant, fuck-”

Steve cuts himself off with a deep groan, almost surprised at his own words. You both knew you wanted kids, maybe in a few years, when you moved out of your shitty apartment and bought a house, maybe got a dog. But the thought of you, all swollen and heavy with your kid, fuck, it’s got Steve lightheaded. 

You sob as Steve somehow starts to shove himself in harder, tears streaming from your eyes as you claw at his back. “Steve, Steve, I can’t- It’s too much, oh god-”

“Fuck yeah, take it baby,” Steve mutters. He snakes a hand between you to rub your clit, chuckling like the bastard he is when your hands shoot down to grip his wrist tightly, stopping his motions. “C’mon, baby, why aren’t you letting me play with you? Little pussy is just begging for it, clutching onto me so well. She wants me to fill her up, right? You want it baby, I know you do. Shit, I’ll get you all heavy and pregnant, keep you at home while these pretty tits,” he leans down to bite one of your breasts, bouncing with the force of his thrusts, “get all filled up with milk. Shit, and you’ll just be ready for me all of the time. I’ll fuck you when I get home from work, every night, filling you up with cum while your stomach just gets bigger and bigger.”

Steve resumes playing with your puffy clit, even as you try to hold his hand steady. “You wanna be my little housewife, baby? I know you do, sweet girl, fuck.” Steve doesn’t even fucking feel like he’s real anymore, only existing to fuck you full, breed you up. He feels like a fucking animal, ruthless and barbaric as sweat drips down his forehead and his hips drive forward to claim you in the most primal way he can imagine.

“Gonna- gonna fill this pussy up. My pussy,” Steve grunts, “You’re mine right, baby? Say you’re mine.”

You barely have enough sanity to respond, “Yours, Steve. ‘M all yours.”

“That’s right baby. You’re mine. And I’m yours, you got that? I’m all yours, every part of me. My body, my mind, my soul, it’s fucking yours. God, you’re so perfect, so stunning, can’t- I can’t believe you’re mine, my perfect fucking baby, Christ-”

You open your bleary eyes to see Steve above you, eyes clenched shut, still mumbling. You know Steve, you know that sometimes he starts to spiral when he gets like this, all overstimulated and cock aching as he tries to hold off for you, the hot clutch of your cunt too much for him to bear. You reach a hand up to clutch at the hairs on the back of his head, smiling softly when his eyes snap open.

“Fill me up, baby. Want you to stuff me full with your cum, stretch me out till I’m gaping for you. Fuck Steve, I want you to own me.”

And Steve whines, high-pitched in the back of his throat, before he buries his face in the crook of your neck whispering, “God, you’ve got a fucking filthy mouth, baby.”

And you almost laugh, you would have, if Steve didn’t snap his hips at just the right angle, jamming the head of his cock right into your sweet spot. Steve, calling your mouth filthy. It’s almost comical. But you know that Steve barely even realizes what he says to you half the time, too lost in the sopping hot wetness of your cunt to filter his words. His mouth just runs when he fucks you, unfettered, giving you a glimpse into his deepest thoughts of you and your pretty body.

“Cum, sweet baby,” Steve whispers. “Gotta feel you squeeze around my cock, wanna see you fucking scream.”

And you have no choice but to follow his orders, screaming as you finally cum, pussy fluttering around Steve, still hammering deep into you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so sexy. Gotta, gotta get one of those video cameras, yeah? Gotta film you falling apart like this, fuck you while we watch it, you look so pretty, oh fuck.” Steve’s eyes clench shut again as his hips still, spilling his cum deep into your overstimulated pussy, gasping out your name. 

He slumps heavily on top of you, meeting your lips in a gentle kiss. You giggle at him softly when he looks up into your eyes, his cheeks all flushed and eyes sleepy.

“You think we’ve got enough money right now for one of those new camcorder things?” Steve whispers, moving to lay next to you. You wince minutely as he slides out, and Steve lays an apologetic kiss on your shoulder before he tugs you close to him, your bodies melding together.

“Stevie, baby,” you say, brushing a hand through his soft, albeit sweaty, hair. “If you keep fucking me like that, I’ll buy you ten camcorders.”

[serxinns]

Yandere Older class 1a x Deadpool reader

You were a goofy sarcastic playful hero who always made jokes while brutally punching villains in the face while doing wacky and wild stuff saying the most unhinged stuff with a smile on your face and your Fans and Most pro heroes love that about you

Iida was always with you not because you were dead gorgeous and your fighting skills were amazing but because he's worried about you! You pulling these dangerous stunts makes him have a heart attack whenever he peacefully wants to see the news he sees you teasing and taunting a very dangerous and very deadly villian riling them up to the point where they just slash at anything to get you to stop your yapping, next thing you know he's grabbing his hero suit and running over there right now he always scold you for being u safe while you just either laugh it off do those cringey "I'm sowwy🥺" look iida pretends to be cringe out about but deep down he thinks your pouty face and puppy eyes are cute,

Bonus: both you and Iida's fans agree that Iida was the Dad friend and make those complications video of him being one

Bakugo wants you to depend on him and look up to him he always wants you to be by his side whenever you work with him, but you being a little shit makes his job way harder, you always making fun little jokes and uncanny comedic lines while the two of you are literally in a life and death situation while you're just singing nursery rhymes, He always yells at you to be serious and all you did was say "uh oh cranky pants need a sippy cup?" He chased you around that day and seeing that cute little cheeky face of yours made him blush he always acts like he doesn't wanna work with you but in truth, he stalks your schedule and demands his agency to work close to yours but he won't admit that even the fans kinda see that he cares for you and loved you and himself dynamic

Momo is the worried mother if you ever get hurt by a nasty villain she's beating that villain to a pulp heck even making the dude see the clouds, she always is very protective of you like a mother hen making sure you eat, sleep brush your teeth she always tell you to while you whined like a child, if you didn't bring your lunch don't worry she brought a little bento box for you!, whenever your merch comes out or before she's always the 1st one to get it. She even has a room dedicated to it (just like Izuku but we'll get to him) literally she and Izuku would have a battle about who got the rarest merch and expensive merch

Ochako is like your number 1 biggest fan she always knows your schedule as well so she can either watch you from afar and if you needed any help she'll be there to kick their asses!, she's like Pucca (if you know the childhood show congrats) she always watching you dreamily eyes fluttering but strong and dangerous if anyone messes with you, she's is always in her dream world imagining carrying you like a little princess and she's the knight although she's also ok with you holding her like that as well both ways make her blush and giggles and kicking her feet while floating up, she makes fanfiction of you x reader or her under a fake username ofc so she can write down all her fantasies (some of your classmates would follow that page secretly) she keeps an oversized merch t-shirt that you wrote an autograph

While Izuku may be all Might's number one fan who said he can't be yours as well? Like this dude knows it all has 4-6 pages of you, your quirk, your weapons, your personality, your likes and dislikes, your family, your address-, you name it! He doesn't even need to write down your schedule since he remembers it so easily dude has a great memory there's no denying it, whenever his fans scream all over him wondering what's his favorite hero everyone is so surprised when he mutters out you heck he's shy whenever he talks to you your his idol his darling his sweetie standing in front of him happily making jokes and laughing along or badass shooting and slashing any bad guys, as mentioned in mom's headcanon this boy got a WHOLE ROOM dedicated to you heck one time you jokingly put a dick shape drawing when he asked to Have a autograph he bought a photo case for that and put it on display like he's PROUD

Sero and Denki were your go-to when wanting to cause trouble and Crack some jokes heck all even flirt with each other trying to see who gets the most flustered denki craves whatever attention you give him whether trying to annoy him or not he loves it when you eyes are on him he may act like a carefree person who jokes with you but he's a possessive dude he glares at your fangirls from afar when they're squealing all over you trying to get a autograph calling you hot that made his blood boil that he had to intervene by saying there's a villain waving goodbye at the girls while their squealing got louder seeing Denki but Denki glared at them Sero is the calmer one but is Obsessive he loves everything about you whenever your close to him on the outside he as cool as a cat but inside he's dying screaming on the inside just wanting to hold you close he always ask for any sort of physical interaction like high fives, hugs, he even remembered you patting him on the back praising him for wrapping up the villains luckily someone recorded it and now he saves that in his phone watching it repeatedly over and over again also he keeps those spiderman x Deadpool comics

Jirou and Kiri are like Sero but she acts more like a soft tsundere while Kiri acts like a love-sick puppy following you around and worshipping you head to toe. She acts cool and tough around you but if you compliment her she turns red and hits you to shut up just like Izuku she's too shy to speak to you and always lets you do the talking while she doesn't pay attention just hearing your voice makes her trapped in a dazed smiling dreamily she just couldn't help it You were so adorable even under that mask she wants to cup her hands on your cheeks and give you the biggest kisses leaving you a hot flushed mess kiri on the other hand worships you like a God, he always rants to his friend teru about you and even works together with bakugo at times talking to him about you the two of them will rant on about how cool you are (mostly Him and bakugo just listens) he will invite you to spar with him and if he ever accidentally hurts you he feels so bad and apologies to you even tho you didn't even show any anger or sadness but he thinks you do but all you did was laugh saying how strong he was making the number 4 hero blush and crumble right there he always used to complimenting you on your skills body and even your muscles but you complimenting him!? It's like a kid getting a gold star for their behavior! After sparing he always buys you his favorite drink which you teased him about while he looked annoyed with your teasing he actually likes it and when you promise to stop he mentally whines wanting you to do more!

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[florapal]

enchanted to meet you.

welcome home ! / ot8 x human!reader , can be seen as romantic or platonic.

what they like abt u <333

no warnings.

first welcome home writing piece ever ... I hope you little tulips enjoy<3 inspired by so many human readers I've seen n read !

humanity.

that was what made you different from your neighbors— your humanity. your flesh, and your bone, and every blood vessel you had— every vein, every nail, every tooth and every beat of your heart— it made you different. they were made of felt. they had nothing but stuffing in their bodies, they were literally puppets. they didn't need almost everything you did— food, toothbrushes, skincare (probably). water made them sink so deep into the ground, they could barely move.

but you— you were vastly different from them, and you naturally— knew more. they came to you for most of their endeavors; even the smartest neighbor, your predecessor— frank frankly— came to you once in a while.

they asked you about what it was like , how it was like , to be a human. why did you need this? why did you need that? what would happen if [...]? what would never happen? curiosity, curiosity, curiosity. you couldn't blame them, either, seeing as you were equally curious about the world around you. this foreign world that you, like, literally dreamed of— you dreamed about this world so often, that you theorize its what got you sent here in the first place. a gap made in the multiverse, you theorize, opened during your sleep. until then, you had been an overseer, not directly interacting with anyone from the neighborhood.

it must've taken one gap in space. one lapse in time, in the order of the universe. one thing to confuse your conscience, and in turn confused your senses. your dream felt real, now, as a familiar voice called to you— and you opened your eyes.

wally darling.

you freaked out a bit, after that.

who wouldn't? who wouldn't, in such worlds like this one.

the sky shines brighter here.

everything's brighter, to be fair.

even you are.

surrounded by constant support & love , comforted and relied on— you don't believe yourself deserving of this, but they do.

poppy partridge is, no joke, a mother hen. poppy is the first to offer housing, to offer nutrition and to offer company— she cares, she cares, and she cares some more. she finds herself running a wing down your hair , entranced by every strand and every split end. counting each strand you have eases her , to some extent. it helps her cool down, just as her presence in general helps you cool down.

julie joyful is as joyful as her surname suggests. she takes your hand without fear, she doesn't hesitate to know you— she pushes you to talk about yourself , even. she finds herself interested in your fingers. she fiddles with them unconsciously, intrigued by every callous, intrigued by every line on your palm— intrigued by your nails. she traces the lines on your palms absentmindedly — uncharacteristically quiet as she listens to you talk about your world.

barnaby b. beagle makes you laugh the moment you meet him. all it takes is a clever punch line , and you're giggling like mad— and barnaby prides himself on the fact he is able to make you laugh. he is curious about your smile— for the first time he saw it, he saw a row of white pearls shining up at him. it looked like a treasure chest being opened, as weird as it sounded. barnaby only hopes that he'll make you smile each and every day— he wouldn't know what he'd do if he saw your teeth gritting— be it in anger, or sadness. he hopes he never will know.

eddie dear is your pen pal who delivers his letters himself. in these letters, you tell him of your hobbies and your pet peeves, your no's and your yes', your dos and don'ts. you tell him everything, and in turn, he tells you everything aswell. can you blame him if he is enamored by how you speak? like, literally, how you speak. he does, indeed, find your voice calming— something he must savour. but he cannot fathom the fact you don't need a voice box, and whenever you speak— your neck?? vibrates?? he is eager to learn about human anatomy! it'd be even better from you, as sadly, what you say is almost always on paper.

sally starlet is in her prime theater kid era, as you said. you stated it once and she has never let it go. yes, she is infact in her prime ! she enjoys the thrill , the applause and the fun ! she's also, however, thrilled by your ideas. you, as someone from another world, bring such wonderful things onto the table that— in her brilliance, she makes possible. she wonders if the sun is inside of you, for your ideas brighten up every day she lives. yes, tell her more about your little disney movies, she's taking notes and planning to create another to add into that category! the best one yet! perhaps you could be the lead?

howdy pillar is , in your words , a funky dude with nice arms. he appreciates the compliment. the supplier of most of the towns goods, he gets in good business— but he thinks whenever you're there, he gets better business! your drive is contagious, and he wants to get more things done when you're in his vicinity. you motivate him unknowingly to better his shop, as you better your situation in this neighborhood. he's proud of you, neighbor, he hopes you are of him too.

frank frankly is fascinated with you. he seems to be interested in your knowledge of insects , but he seems to be interested in your general knowledge too. you know more than he does , been out and about more than he's been— seen more bugs than he has, you are literally from a different world— a world he wants to know all about. there is so much going on in your brilliant mind, every time you converse— he believes he's only ever receiving a morsel of your intellect. perhaps you'd be free tomorrow, to meet up and to engage in intellectual things?

wally darling is intrigued. he hears a beat in your chest, he says, and you nod. he places a hand on your chest, over your heart, and it beats. he looks at you in awe. he doesn't know what this is, but it is part of you, and if it's part of you— it's aweworthy. this mindset goes for every part of you— all of you is beautiful to him. however, he must say, he enjoys the way your eyes crease whenever you smile. eyes are windows to the soul, you told him, and he couldn't agree more— especially the moment your eyes sparkled when he told you he loved you. how did you interpret this ? you did not know, all you know is that you love him too.

each puppet finds solace in you, as cliché as it sounds. as different as you are from them, flesh & bone to felt & fur , they can not deny that, just as they were with every neighbor,

they were enchanted to meet you.

assets / pinterest ♡ property of florauna, 2023

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

@ablev92 can't leave the boy hanging with nothing. This is not exactly your idea but something that hopefully will still scratch the itch. 🤍✨

His girl

"It's beyond me how you stomach that guy," Violet breathed out, her body slumping onto the mat. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Xaden was desperate to keep her alive. Wasn't hard to see why especially considering that he had so openly brought her to train away from the rest of the group and with the rebellion bunch.

"Less talking more working, give me five more", you tapped Violet's thigh, urging her to do a couple more sit-ups. The girl's muscles were nowhere to be seen. It still was beyond you how she wasn't swept by the wind while crossing the Parapet. She huffed as she pulled up time after time. Then maybe the brain was the better asset to possess. "Rest for a bit, I don't want to see your lunch all over the floor", you threw a water bottle her way that she barely caught, chugging it down in no time.

You let yourself sink to the floor as you too started your warm-up. Itching for a real tassel. You haven't properly fought in a couple of weeks. Even since during one of the patrols you got mixed up in an ambush. You slid down your dragon and injured your shoulder. It was nothing major but the boys were mother hens so you were not allowed to do anything.

"Do you ever fight with him?", Violet gestured to Garrick once more. Your eyes moved over where both Xaden and he threw punches at one another across the room. Shirts were already discarded. But then most of the time these boys trained shirtless. Too much body heat they said. "Shouldn't you only have your eyes set on Xaden? He's a jealous type", you asked her teasingly. Leaning forward to stretch your back. You couldn't see her face but she no doubt was red like a tomato. Violet couldn't hide her emotions for shit. That was another thing Xaden should teach her.

"I thought Xaden was the scary one but...", she breathed. Her yapping was starting to get on your nerves but then Xaden chose you for a reason. The rest of the group would have already broken the girl or she would be crying in the corner. "Don't say it out loud Garrick's ego might explode", you chuckled, reaching to put your hair up into a messy bun. "But do you?", Violet urged. You could understand her fascination this group was quite a sight for sore eyes. "I fought with all of them. Imogen, Bodhi, Xaden, Garrick", you said casually, eyes locking on the person you hoped would finally look your way.

"And you walk off the mat?", you could feel her eyes on you but you were already shrugging your shirt off, leaving only a tight black sports bra on, "Well, I'm standing here, aren't I?", you winked her way as you stepped closer to the mats.

"Looks very fun but I'm borrowing Garrick", you said casually, motioning with your hand for Xaden to step away. The guy simply brushed his hand through his messy hair as he smirked. "I ain't fighting with you", Garrick said coldly, turning his attention back on Xaden as if you weren't standing right in front of him. You could hear oo's sounding all around the room. Even Xaden snickered. "I ain't got all day Riorson, let's...", Garrick grumbled but you struck first, fist colliding with his hand and making him drop his dagger.

"You little...", Garrick bit back as he turned towards you, his big shoulders flexing as he quickly threw a punch of his own. One that you quickly dogged. Elbowing him in his stomach as you turned. It almost looked like a dance as you both swirled around the fight mat. Eyes blazing. You managed to throw him off balance slightly hoping to deliver a final blow with your leg. Unfortunately, it was Garrick we were talking to. He was the best for a reason. His hand quickly wrapped around your ankle as he tugged, your back met the floor as an airy huff slipped past your lips.

"He will kill her", Violet nearly shouted, her knuckles pale as she gripped the water bottle. "Relax, enjoy the spectacle," Imogen mussed. And she wasn't wrong. Everyone had stopped to watch. "He will...", Violet was about to argue more but her eyes caught the smiles painting both of your lips. You had quickly wrapped your legs around Garrick's torso, arm logged in his throat as you managed to turn you both around. Chest heaving for air.

"Want to tap out?", you mussed, leaning closer to him, locking eyes with the man beneath you. Garrick had a proud smirk on his face. You watched him slowly lifting his hand off the mat, fully prepared to walk away from this. But that same hand quickly wrapped around your neck, throwing you off balance as he once again pinned you right beneath him, "Nice try baby", he breathed right by your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine.

"Press harder, I like it", you purred back, making him rare back as you stared at you, "You will be the death of me", he released his grip around you but his warning finger was still pointing at you. "Go fuck it out", Bodhi shouted across the room, making some people laugh. Garrick shot him a death glare. "Be careful, you might be laying beneath him next", you teased back, making Bodhi bite back a laugh as Garrick shook his head.

"Am I off bed rest now?", you asked as you followed him across the gym. "No", he breathed simply, "You're still in pain, your left hand twitched multiple times. It hasn't healed yet", Garrick said plainly as he reached for his water but you quickly kicked it out of reach. Garrick stilled for a heartbeat. The rest of the group was used to you both nagging at each other so almost no one paid you any attention.

"Let me train", you said firmly, only to let out a yelp as Garrick yanked you closer, pushing you against the walk as his frame toward over yours. "I said no", he hissed back. But you knew what this was. You had gone missing that night. They looked for you for two days straight. Well... Garrick did. Against all orders. No sleep. No food. His clothes were damp as he flew over and over. Followed by your dragon. You reached up to cup his face and Garrick instantly closed his eyes.

"I promise you that I'm well", you said softly, "nothing hurts, it's slightly sore, that's all", you tried to reason with this big broody man. "And your fingers", he reached for your palm, you knew what he was looking for, so you quickly moved each of your fingers around. Bending and flexing them. Garrick let out a sigh. "Fine", he breathed. "I can train with Bodhi...", "Like hell is anyone else touching you", Garrick hissed back, making you roll your eyes.

Stepping on your tippy toes you wrapped your arms around his neck, Garrick rose to his full height, making your feet dangle as you held up. His hands instantly reached down to cup your bum as you wrapped your legs around him. "You're lucky that I love you", he muttered as he carried you back to his preferred corner. You gave him your best angel smile that he only shook his head at. "I love you too, thank you for trusting me", you kissed the side of his neck softly, before your eyes darted back to the room. "If you feel..", Garrick started but you cut him off quickly, "Even the tiniest sense of pain I will tell you and we will stop". He nodded at your words, frown disappearing. Violet stood there with her big eyes still on you two. You quickly saluted her. "They're like...", she breathed out, making Imogen let out a chuckle, "Dating, fucking, loving - all of it", the female mused, "Just don't stare too much Garrick doesn't like it". Imogen tapped Violet's shoulder making her turn for the mat that exclusively belonged to Garrick. She knew without having to ask that your roll of training Xaden's girl was now her responsibility.

[danikamariewrites]

Bar Fight

Azriel x reader

A/n: I didn’t mean for this to be over 1,000 words it was supposed to be a silly lil fic but I can’t help myself

Warnings: violence and injuries

Girls night had taken quite the violent turn. You were currently being held up between Feyre and Nesta as Elain, Emerie, Amren, Gwyn, and Mor led you back to the River House.

You never considered yourself a violent person. Especially not in public. There was a reputation to uphold since you work for the High Lord of Night. But all of that went out the window when you heard a few males talking about Elain and Gwyn.

That was something you couldn’t let go. So you calmly approached them. Telling them to watch their mouths and you walked away. You heard the males snicker behind your back, but you kept going forward. But something hit the back of your head. And another, and another, until that something felt like food. You went deathly still, turning and whipped the drinks at the males.

An all out brawl between you and the stronger one broke out. The smaller one was easy to get down, all it took was one punch to the nose and he was on the ground cradling his face, screaming in pain.

The big one put up a fight. He got a few good shots in before you finally got him on his ass. By then Feyre was breaking through the semi circle that had formed, breaking up the fight, pulling you to your feet.

What had surprised you the most was how much energy Elain had after the kerfuffle. She never came out with you guys, nor Gwyn, so to hear her giving the girls a play by play on the walk home was hilarious. “Now I wanna punch something!” The precious flower exclaimed. “Woah, down girl. How much did you drink tonight?” Emerie asked with a smirk. All Elain did was giggle.

You couldn’t help but smile, even if a stinging pain coursed through your split lip. You now sport a black eye, bloody nose, and a bruised rib or two. “Thank god the boys are in Illyria until tomorrow.” Nesta hugged out. You make a half grunt, half humming noise in agreement.

Rhys, Cass, and Az had to make an emergency visit to Windhaven a week ago. You were thanking the Mother that they wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. Azriel would be such a mother hen about your injuries and chastise you for getting into a bar fight.

“You’re goin’ to heal me right Fey?” You were so tired from the fight, your adrenaline finally wearing off, your words came out slurred. “Of course. We’ll go right to the sitting room.”

Finally, you reached the River House and slouched in relief in the sisters' hold. Amren opened the door ushering you all in. Gwyn and Mor went ahead to make room for you on the couch. Through one open eye you noticed the two of them pause in the entryway, eyes wide and panicked.

“Hi guys!” Mor said a little too enthusiastically. Shit, you did not want Azriel to see you like this.

More alert now you, Nesta, and Feyre quickly improvise a new way to get you past the boys. You rip a jacket off the coat rack and throw it over your head as Nesta scoops you into her arms.

Nesta casually tries to walk you past the living room while the others bombard the three males with questions about their trip.

But nothing gets past Azriel and his shadows. You feel the one that’s always beside you sweep across your shin, leaving as quickly as it came.

“Nesta,” Azriel called out sweetly, “is that y/n? I can take her up to bed.” A small smile on his face, hopeful to have you in his arms again.

She panicked and fumbled over her words, “No! No it’s ok…I uh…I got her it’s fine.” She let out a nervous laugh. Azriel gave her a strange look. You could feel your friends hold their breath as your boyfriend moved past them.

Azriel approached Nesta, his nostrils flaring at the scent of dried blood. His shadows moved faster than she could. Ripping the jacket from your face dropping it to the floor.

He audibly gasped at the sight of your face. You shot him an innocent smile. “Hey baby. Welcome home.” You shimmed out of Nestas arms standing in front of Azriel. His shadows were going crazy as they informed him of your injuries. “What happened?” He bit out. You winced a little at his tone. “Bar fight.” His eyes went wide like he couldn’t believe the situation. “I won though. So I got that goin’ for me.”

You gave him a widened smile that broke your split lip, causing the bleeding to start again. You winced moving to hold your bleeding lip. Azriel’s face quickly shifted from shock to worry. “Come on, let me clean you up.”

You begrudgingly nod at him as Azriel ushers you upstairs to your shared bedroom. His silence is driving you mad. You can’t even read his mood even with his eyes piercing the back of your head.

Sitting on the edge of the tub you watched as Azriel pulled out a salve and some bandages from the cabinet under the sink. He stood in front of you tilting your chin up to face him.

Azriel dabs at your still bleeding lip before rubbing salve on it. Then cleans up the dried blood and puts more salve on your black eye.

He picks up your right hand and wipes away the dried blood there, gently wrapping your knuckles. There was no need for this. It would all be healed by tomorrow but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to take care of you. Make sure you heal faster.

“Thank you,” you say quietly with a hint of guilt. “Of course, love.” You look up at his still unreadable face. “Please, say something,” you beg.

Azriel took a deep breath, slouching his shoulders and wings, leaning against the counters with his arms crossed. “I just didn’t ever think you’d get into a bar fight. It was stupid and irresponsible. You could’ve been hurt worse than this, y/n.”

You drop your head looking down at your feet. You could tell he was prepared for a fight. “I know. But they were talking about Gwyn and Elain, then they threw something at me. I couldn’t let it slide.”

Looking back up at Az his face was contorted in rage. “They threw stuff at you.” You nodded slowly. “But hey, I took care of it just like you taught me.” He let out a breathy laugh. At least his mood was improving.

Azriel knelt in front of you, cradling the back of your head leaving a small kiss on your forehead. “That’s my girl.”

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

science experiment is my new favorite, dear lord it’s incredible

"We might have a problem, Alfie," Dick sing-songed as he leaned against the wall where Alfred was making sure the outdoor shenanigans that were serving as "training" today didn't get out of hand.

The butler glanced up to where Jason kept watching you, almost hovering near you. But trying to make it look like he wasn't. "So far as I'm concerned, it looks like the opposite of a problem."

"Maybe," Dick mused.

"How much did he see? Last night, I mean?"

"The aftermath," Dick sighed. "Mud, blood, tears, and snot."

"Oh dear," he tutted. "Master Bruce told me that he found Jason tending to the wounds on her hands and feet this morning. And that he seemed... almost like his old self."

Dick nodded to where you'd made your way over to Cass, the newest addition and offered to be on her "team". Cass wasn't a big talker- she could hardly speak at all- but. Thanks to your empathic quirk, neither of you really needed to talk to team up. And it hadn't taken Cass long to figure that out. OR to figure out that you were physically not very durable. Still. The smiles and the fist bump said it all. "Do we have extra hydration packs on hand?" he asked.

"Always," Alfred said. Reasonably, no one expected you to participate. And no one pulled punches when you did. But- watching you laugh with the other girls when Dick jogged over to even it up properly... well. Maybe, you could get a couple nights of decent sleep.

Bruce strode out onto the lawn and dropped into a chair with a grunt. "How's it going?" he asked.

"Swimmingly," Alfred said, pouring cold drinks and making sure that yours had the specific blend of things that had been prescribed to you in your bottle. "Miss Y/N and Miss Cassandra have been working out some things they can utilize in the field and the others have been enjoying creating chaos to facilitate that."

"Hn."

"And Jason has been hovering like a mother hen," Alfred chuckled.

"So much for not having a crush," Bruce hummed. "How is Y/N holding up?"

"Tiring out, I think. But they've been doing what they can to keep her from having to over-exert herself- after all. It's not like we need to know what the upper limits are."

"Fair-" But before he can finish asking for specifics, you waver on your feet halfway through a strategy you'd been working out with Cass. But before you crumple, Jason is right behind you. Picking you up against his chest.

His face burning as he murmured something against your flustered protests. You radiated flustered embarrassment. And he deposited you in a chair carefully. "It probably would have worked," he muttered, "Dick and Steph talk too much."

You nod and accept the proffered water bottle awkwardly and take a drink, "Thanks."

"What were you trying to do?" Bruce asked? He hadn't SEEN Cass, but that didn't mean anything.

"Lead her into the best position for a sneak attack using my location with emotional resonance... since I can make the people feel things we were playing hot and cold. So I was picking up on where she was and kinda leading her to where she needed to be as we were wandering around."

"Hn." Bruce nodded. Considering that. He'd THOUGHT about using that as a strategy before. You did possess the ability to hone in on people you knew well-

"You okay?" Jason asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Fine," you murmur, rolling your water bottle between your hands and looking down. Taking a few deep breaths to shove all your emotions back under control as the others lope back up from the grass for drinks and snacks. Cass sat on the arm of your chair and thudded her head gently on your shoulder. Smiling a little when you lean your head on hers.

Bruce watches the little exchange with bemusement and nods to himself. It made sense. Cass had few words and you could make yourself understood without it. But0 he did wonder, as he watched Jason watch it all happen, how he felt about it.

[holylulusworld]

Alpha daddy

Summary: Dean is overprotective.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, a/b/o, pregnancy, overprotective alpha, scenting, Dean panics, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, fluff

“Uh-“ Dean immediately jumps up to look you all over as you make an odd noise. You clutch your belly and slowly rub it. “Fuck, that feels odd.”

“Odd? What kind of odd? Does it hurt? Describe the feeling,” your alpha worriedly looks you up and down. “Sweetheart, tell me what’s wrong.”

You don’t want to worry Dean. He’s like an overprotective mother hen since you are pregnant. He barely sleeps, afraid someone or rather something that bumps in the night sneaks into the bunker to attack you.

“I’m—” you pant. “Good. It’s just a stomach bug or something.”

“Stomach bug?” He cocks his head. “This doesn’t look like a stomach bug, Y/N. What’s wrong? I need to know if you need help.”

“It feels…odd,” you choke out. “Something is…I don’t know. It feels wrong. I’m scared.” You finally say as it feels like the muscles across your belly are tightening. It’s not painful, but uncomfortable and you’re afraid, something is wrong with your baby.

“That’s it. I’m going to bring you to the hospital,” Dean looks at your belly one last time before he walks toward the bag he placed next to his side of the bed. The one he prepared for the labor. “Give me a minute.”

Dean grabs his shoes, phone, and keys while barking his brother’s name. “SAMMY! We need to go to the hospital!”

“What? I??” Sam pokes his head into your bedroom. “What’s wrong?” He frowns and switches to worried Uncle Sammy modus. “Is she in pain? It’s too early for contractions, right?”

“I-I don’t know,” Dean throws his hands up. "Take the keys and bag. Start the engine. I’ll help Y/N.”

The brothers make quick work. Sam grabs the bag and snatches the keys out of his brother’s hands. Dean turns his attention toward you. 

He grabs a blanket, your favorite pillow before he slings one arm around your middle to help you get up from the bed. 

Being eight months pregnant isn’t easy. Your belly is huge, and you can barely see your feet. Well, Winchesters are huge. It figures that you look like a whale.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. We are going to the hospital, and everything is going to be alright,” he softly says to calm you. You nod and smile at him while breathing through the next contraction.

If only you could look inside his head right now. He’s scared to hell and back but can’t show it. Dean needs to be strong. For you.

“Thank you,” you sniff as Dean walks you along the hallways toward the garage. “You think everything is going to be alright?”

“I know it will,” he confidentially says. ‘It must, he thinks to himself…

“Doctor!” How is she? Is it labor? It’s too soon, right?” Dean almost tackles the doctor to the ground to get an answer when he leaves the exam room. “Doc?”

“It’s nothing,” the doctor says, earning a huff from you. “Braxton Hicks contractions are normal during pregnancy. Some women feel it, some don’t. Your omega is a little more sensitive.”

Now you roll your eyes. “Dean, let’s go,” you grab your alpha’s hand. “What a dick.” You grunt. “That asshole told me the whole time I shouldn’t make such a fuss.”

“What?” Dean stops in his tracks. “Lemme break his face.” He grunts when you shake your head. “I’ll do it. No one makes my omega feel bad. You were scared and needed advice. Not a douche telling you shit about something he doesn’t understand. That sonofabitch doesn’t even have a uterus.”

You snicker at Dean’s pissed expression. He squares his jaw and dips his head to glance at the doctor. “Dean, I just want to go home.” 

“Can I not punch him a little for talking like that to my omega?” He quirks a brow. “Please.”

“He’s just overworked and it’s late. Maybe he had a long day. Let’s go home. I feel much better knowing it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hmmm…” Dean still looks at the doctor. He bares his teeth when you turn your attention toward Sam and the snacks he got for you. “I see you, bastard.” Your alpha gives the doctor the evil eye. “Wait for it.”

“Alpha, come on. I wanna go home to my nest,” you hide your face in Dean’s chest to inhale his scent deeply. You’re immediately calmer and feel safe. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“That’s my job.” He puffs his chest. “I’m your alpha. I care about my omega and our baby.” Dean kisses your temple. “I’ll bring you home now…”

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags  

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 @deansonlywife

[deadsetobsessions]

Okay, so maybe Tim has no business being in Bludhaven. Tim maintains that since his parents fail at parenting, he can do whatever he wants.

Besides, it's for a good cause. Like, not letting Tarantula get her dirty hands on his big brother in another time line. Tarantula had popped up in the Bludhaven servers - by that, Tim means the endless amounts of threads and underground fronts for criminal activity that he stalks on a regular basis- by being seen with Nightwing. Tim had immediately booked a ride to Bludhaven and bought another burner. He'd try to take care of her himself, but if worse comes to worse, he'd call Deathstroke. He's totally aware of the weird tension Deathstroke has with Nightwing and Tim's kind of banking on that.

Dick's been back in Blud for two months now, Jason having assuaged his mother hen tendencies enough for Dick to get sick of the Manor. Tim hadn't meant to follow since he had plenty of projects to work on now that "SAVE JASON" wasn't blaring at the top of his head.

But then Tarantula appeared and Tim saw red, remembering the way Dick spoke about her and what she did to him.

He bids the driver goodbye. The driver doesn't question his being on his lonesome mainly because 1) Gothamites mind their own busines, 2) Tim gave him a $500 tip to make sure he remains a "good" Gothamite cabbie, and 3) Tim made sure he was dropped off in the swankiest, most ostentatious hotel Bludhaven had to offer.

"Rich people," the cab driver had muttered as Tim closed the door. Perfect.

Tim got his keycard, having checked in under Alvin Draper over the phone. Normally, they'd require an in person visit, but money talks. And people listened when Tim had a lot of things to say.

Tim even feels like he's trained enough to go out! Lady Shiva's training was ingrained into his memory, and Tim's built enough muscle to make use of some of it. He is still nine, after all. He's so much stealthier this time around. Plus, he's got almost his full tool set back. Sure, some of the tech is ancient, but he managed to finagle it to make grappling guns and smoke pellets more along the quality that he's used to.

Tim waits until nightfall, looping the surveillance around his window to mask his exit. Tim adjusts his domino, eyes scanning the city skyline as his handheld computer (god, he can't believe he has to invent wrist computers) tracked reports of Nightwing through Tweetings.

Ah. He's around Seventh. Tim grimaces as his untested joints adjusts to the grappling guns. His dark clothes make him hard to spot, to his advantage as he tracks down Nightwing.

Tim watches, perched on an adjacent roof as Nightwing takes down a crowd of goons with the flips Tim remembered watching from afar and up close in another timeline.

"Blockbuster'll kill everyone you love, Nightwing!"

Tim winces at the rather brutal crunch that followed, Nightwing having punched the guy and knocked him out in one move. He watches Dick sigh, tugging at his hair in stress.

Tim could... no, no. He shouldn't think of murder as a first option. Well, no, he shouldn't think of Deathstroke as a first option. But he'll need to take Blockbuster out before anything happens. And he needs to threaten the new Tarantula before anything happens. He won't allow her to even get close to Dick.

Maybe it's unfair to punish her for a crime she hasn't done, but unlike murder, rape can never be defended. Catalina Flores is a dead woman walking.

Tim stalks his big brother back home and then broke off to begin his short reign of terror over Bludhaven's underground. If he can't get Dick to take a break (and Tim's tried, a lot, over the years) then he'll make sure that the next month is as gentle as possible on his older brother.

Step 1. Murder Take care of Blockbuster

Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.

No. Wait. Tim has a better idea. He's got dirt on them, on top of the murder thing. He'll fabricate Catalina's tax returns, embezzle a shit ton of money from the IRS, and get her and her corrupt brother (because getting your sister out from murder charges is considered corrupt) arrested and locked away. And he'll make sure they stay locked away with some good old blackmail on Amanda Waller.

Tim grins, tranquilizing the building with an ungodly amount of knock out gas pellets, to riffle through the police precinct's files.

Step 2. Threaten Catalina Flores and her brother.

Step 2. Cripple Catalina Flores and her brother with blackmail and the IRS.

In three hours, Tim has everything he needs to begin a temporary hostile takeover. He's got the names of local mob bosses, the big players, and the names of practically every police officer that takes bribes and their... sponsors.

He'll have to cut off Blockbuster's lines of supplies first. Then, blacklist him from local suppliers, mobilize the police precinct against him (by imitating his M.O. perfectly- Tim's not a fucking amateur- and pretending to rob the precinct blind), and then break his knees.

Step 3. Profit

Tim takes out his shiny new burner phone, enjoying the loud sounds of the police squawking through his planted bugs. He lounges on the building next to it, keeping an eye out for Nightwing just in case the man decides to respond to the crisis.

[Unknown: It's RR.]

[Deathstroke: New phone?]

[RR: Who dis?]

[Deathstroke: What?]

[RR: Nevermind. I'll give you forty thousand to shoot someone's knees out.]

[Deathstroke:... That's it? Who?]

[RR: Blockbuster. Bludhaven. Extra twenty thousand if you tell him he's got the spine of a sea slug, kick him in the balls, and post it on Tweeting.]

[Deathstroke: What did he do to you? Deal.]

Tim ignored Deathstroke's question.

[RR: Half sent. Confirm?]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed. Timeline?]

[RR: Three weeks. 21 days.]

[Deathstroke: Confirmed.]

----

Tim grins ferally, all teeth as Catalina Flores looked on in horror at her computer screen.

"Get out of Bludhaven, and don't come back. If you even think of going near Nightwing, I will rip what's left of your pathetic, sniveling swine of a brother apart. You will not enjoy the consequences."

Tim clicks off, watching Catalina and her brother launch themselves into mad packing. He tapped out a short message to Amanda Waller for her and her team to intercept them at the state lines. They'll never get away from Tim's fury. Never.

[Waller: It's done.]

[Waller: I will find you.]

[RR: You can definitely try, Waller. Good doing business with you.]

Tim can see the blood vessel the woman popped after he sent that last message. He laughs.

He saves Deathstroke's video from Tweeting onto his actual, spoofed phone. He destroys the burner phone, less shiny now that he's dragged it through two and a half weeks of breaking heads and terrorizing the Bludhaven Underground. Nightwing hadn't even gotten a whiff of his activities, this Dick being far less experienced and known in this version of Blud.

One more week and Tim can continue his other projects.

----

Nightwing, going about his vigilante business: wow it sure is peaceful

Feral Tim Drake, Nightwing's scary dog privilege: try me, bitch

[gatitties]

Can we get a part 5 of the yandere platonic jjk series? It is one of the best yandere series I’ve read and I really hope you continue it! :)

The blank pages - Web of love

"The blank pages" are untold events in the parts of web of love, as well as some headcanons or small random scenarios.

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (Platonic)

─Summary: A little more about your life living with sorcerers and curses

─Warnings: stalking, obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

well, I don't know when I will write (if I do) another part as long as the others, it's one of the "minifanfics" that takes me the most time to write, but I can always write some headcanons or small scenarios like this :p

─ You are so fond of sorcerers that your nickname for the vast majority of them is scumbag <3, especially for Gojo, when you don't call him a poorly felled birch.

─ Once you asked Sukuna if he had gone to class with Jesus Christ, he didn't kill you on the spot because you were so tired that you seemed drugged and he felt sorry.

─ You will never admit that among all the crazy people Itadori is your favorite.

─ When Gojo wants to scold you for something, you simply apply the technique of turning up the volume to the maximum on your headphones while you nod.

─ Refusing to speak sometimes only made everyone learn your non-verbal language.

─ With each passing day you don't care if you are devoured by a curse just so you can rest in peace.

─ You once went on a solo mission (some mysterious way it happened), they almost wrapped you up like a mummy when they saw you arrive with some bruises and cuts.

─ Megumi comes to your side when he sees you nod off during the day so you can lean on his shoulder and sleep.

─ Many times you would like to punch everyone but they don't even deserve that much attention from you.

─ On a random day of the week you will be dragged by Nobara to have a sleepover, you don't complain much because you do nothing and get gossip.

─ One day you went to the Zenin clan house with Maki and you thought that you grew old during the time you spent there, for once you were glad that Maki didn't leave your side.

─ You are afraid of talking too much with Utahime because you think that if you do she will end up just as obsessed as the others, you don't want to break that feeling of talking to someone other than your family.

─ You discovered that the sorcerers entered your room at night but you decided not to confront them for the moment.

─ If Choso wasn't so overprotective and mother hen, you wouldn't mind if he treated you like a little sister.

─ He begins to silently threaten all the people who may be a potential partner for you (he threatened a cashier who told you that you looked pretty one day).

─ If you are with the villains you will say that you are part of the sorcerers' team and that you will fight against them until you die, if you are with the sorcerers, you will say the same but on the opposite side so as not to give them the benefit of knowing your thoughts.

─ Despite everyone, you have the right to go on the weekends you want to visit your family, although sometimes they will put obstacles in place so that you are delayed and miss the train.

─ Those days are your days of peace, you even decide to help at your parents' restaurant even though it is a stressful day, the pressure makes you put your feet back on the ground.

─ You submitted a letter of resignation to the studies because you thought you were qualified enough to return to your parents now that you know how to control your powers, Yaga tore the paper to pieces after you left.

─ You hope you trip and break your neck during some training, it's a shame that Panda and Toge will rush towards you even if you only stumble slightly.

─ Everyone prefers to blame someone else but you, even if you openly say that you are guilty of something, they will do mental exercise to prevent you from being guilty.

─ Sukuna is fighting to get you to join his side, whatever the reason, you will be a key piece in the outcome.

─ Of course, they don't want to get violent with you, the threats and beatings go to other people, for you they have manipulation.

─ Which you clearly detect, but you decide to play along for the moment, without knowing that you are getting more entangled in the web.

─ They probably know that you are acting but they don't care because they are getting the attention they want from you.

─ The situation is like a snake biting its tail, and you hope that when that snake dies from suffocation by its own body, you are not there.

[mysticmonkeybusiness]

Prompt: post s5, Mac goes to find Wukong and find him he does, along with a broken mirror; given by @visionaryscribe

-

He never knew the world could get more obnoxiously loud. The change was slow, but at this point Macaque’s certain it’s a side effect of shattering the five stones of creation. Now he can hardly step foot off Flower Fruit Mountain without reducing his hearing to human levels. Human. At least at demon levels he can still hear magic, but he’s practically crippled like this.

But it’s like the kid can’t go one day without getting into trouble, so Macaque sucks it up, deafens himself, and finds time to check in on him regularly. Wouldn’t want another world ending disaster to go unnoticed until it’s too late to do anything about it.

It becomes routine. A boring, straightforward task with little to no surprises outside of the mundane shenanigans MK and the dragon girl get up to. After a few weeks of this, Macaque makes the mistake of letting his guard down.

He lingers a little longer in the shadows of MK’s room, watching the kid draw. This is the most relaxed he’s seen the kid since the pillar. It relaxes him in turn, something within him unwinding and feeling a little less like the world is actually out to get him. The moment he hears the pig come up though, he makes his exit. The kid is getting better and better at spotting him and without a distraction keeping him from looking up, Macaque doesn’t like his chances of remaining unnoticed.

Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain is simple. Removing the deafening spell takes barely a thought.

Or it should.

It’s still too quiet and he wonders how he could have messed up a spell he could cast with his hands tied behind his back. Recasting the spell does nothing to fix things. Frustrated and assured he’s alone, he rips the glamour on his ears off as well to no change. His breathing hitches as he clutches at his ears and reflexively expands his range.

To his surprise, it works. It only takes a second for the thought to hit him with all the force of a certain red and gold staff.

Wukong’s not on the mountain.

With more panic than he’d ever admit to anyone – only because if Wukong’s missing, he must be getting into trouble – Macaque scrambles to locate peaches-for-brains and has to stop himself from slumping in relief at finding the white noise of Wukong’s magic at the temple on the mainland.

He tells himself it’s a reasonable response at finding out Wukong hasn’t brought some world ending disaster down on their heads.

Macaque finds it a bit strange though. Wukong’s been spending most of his time split between his hut and the noodle shop. If he wasn’t being an overprotective mother hen, he was lazing around in his hut and gorging himself on fruit.

Lingering adrenaline and piqued curiosity is enough to have him shadow portal to the temple. He grimaces as he adjusts to the noise volume, suppressing his hearing as best as he can without magic.

The sharp tang of copper lingers in the air and sends his adrenaline spiking yet again. When he finds Wukong he’s going to punch him in his stupid face for giving him this much stress.

He follows the smell of blood to the bathroom and immediately zeros in on the Great Pain of Heaven. He found Wukong alright, along with a shattered mirror.

Curled in on himself, Wukong’s claws are digging into his skull and his heartbeat so rapid that it’s likely without the immortalities he would have given himself a heart condition.

Glass crunches underneath his boots as he steps closer, but Wukong doesn’t even flinch. Worry breaks through his denial and he crouches barely a handspan away, eyes catching on the pinprick pupils, the glittering glass sprinkled amidst sunset orange fur, and the already healing scratches on Wukong’s face. Almost entirely hidden beneath his curled hands, a long, shallow slice on his temple tells him exactly what set this off.

A slow wave in front of his face doesn’t even make him blink. Wukong’s clearly not registering anything he’s seeing.

“Wukong,” he murmurs softly, trying to snap him out of it without touching him and possibly setting him off further.

Macaque should have expected something like this to happen, but with the damn circlet long gone, he thought they managed to get past it without an incident. Figures Wukong wouldn’t deign to have his breakdown when he is around someone that could help him.

MK would be better for this. Even out of his mind, Wukong would never hurt the kid. His instincts wouldn’t let him.

Macaque doesn’t have that assurance.

Claws twitch and dig further until there’s the distinct crack of hitting bone. Before he even registers the lump in his throat, Macaque is reaching over and ripping Wukong’s hands away from his head. Any damage he could do removing them would be nothing close to what Wukong could do to himself.

Like he has nothing better to do than cause Macaque problems, Wukong immediately begins thrashing, mouth open in a silent scream. He’s thrown off, but picks himself up, hurls himself at Wukong, and sends them both through a shadow portal back to Wukong’s nest.

As he had hoped, the change of location sends Wukong off balance. It’s enough to let Macaque pin Wukong to the nest and reinforce the hold with his shadows. Wukong still struggles, but slowly, that resistance fades away as the differences in his surroundings start trickling in. Familiar scents instead of blood. Comforting fabrics instead of sharp glass.

Capitalizing on the opening, Macaque thinks to himself, Can’t believe I’m doing this, and makes a low, rumbling purr. It almost hurts at first, having been centuries since he’s worked these particular muscles, but it gets easier as he keeps it up.

Beneath him, he can feel the gradual way Wukong relaxes. With his hands occupied he has to use his head to nudge the side of Wukong’s in encouragement, keeping the purr up all the while.

He’s not sure how long they stay like that, but by the time he feels safe enough to let go of the restraints, he feels exhausted. Wukong, the prissy princess, tensed up again every single time he so much as let up on the pacifying gestures. He leans back just enough to see Wukong’s face and has to fight the urge to strangle him when he sees the idiot is asleep.

Faintly, he considers portaling back to his own bed, but frankly, even that’s too much effort right now. Besides, after what Wukong put him through, he can deal with waking up next to Macaque. He lowers himself back down, this time on the side and gets the source of all his problems curling into his chest for his efforts.

He contents himself with the fantasy of kicking Wukong away and wraps an arm around him because Wukong might as well make himself useful as a blanket. His eyes slide shut and he takes a deep breath as a scent that never fails to register as safe despite everything that screams otherwise fills his nose.

Macaque never sees the way eyes peek open a sliver before falling closed once more.

[axelsagewrites]

Heya this is kind of Robb Stark but more of a friendship one where y/n is Robbs wife (Robert Baratheons only real child and is very nice a sweet and was in a arranged marriage to Robb but fell In love. She is famous for being beautiful has songs written about her and all that jazz)and it’s when Caytlen comes to camp with Brienne of Tarth and y/n is kind of amazed by her and finds her very beautiful. They end up having a conversation where y/n compliments her but Brienne thinks she’s joking but y/n is quick to correct her. y/n gives her a very encouraging speech about how she admires her . Not that Brienne would show it but she’s very touched by it and grows a soft spot for y/n just a very nice moment. If you don’t do these types of pens that’s fine ❤️

Queen in the North and South

Main Pairing: Platonic Brienne x f!reader

Second Pairing: Romantic Robb x f!reader

Summary: Brienne and the reader discuss to pros and cons of beauty and where to find it

Warnings: Mentions of creepy men

Word count: 2842

Masterlist Here

When you first arrived at Winterfell you were hesitant of your new life being forced upon you but soon grew to love it. In Kingslanding you had felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You didn’t share the same Lannister locks with your siblings nor your mother’s affiliation with wine. As your father’s oldest child, he adored you but as you grew, he began to show you off and flaunt you to the lords around.

“Gather round my lords and see the greatest beauty in all of Westeros!” He would cheer drunk on his ale and those around would join in. over time you learned to hide your embarrassment at the attention, and the glares your mother would give you for it and smiled politely. Men would come to court simply to play the songs they wrote for you, or lords would attempt to rhyme off pretty sonnets in your honour. It felt nice to be loved but as you grew you noticed the lust in many eyes and began to feel disgust.

But you smiled politely like you did when you first met Robb. He was of course very handsome himself; a true Tully look about him with all the Stark courage and honour. However, you tried not to obsess over looks like many had done with you and insisted on getting to know him as a person.

As it turned out Robb was more interesting than you first assumed however far too trusting of people. Something you tried to educate him on. Robb was just relieved that his wife was not just a pretty face, not that he complained about your looks since he adored them. Once you were wed you began to talk late into the night, discussing opinions and having debates. even when you told him his opinion was wrong, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you delivered the punch line.

You had learned one thing from your mother and that was that you wanted to be the opposite of her in every way. In Kingslanding you would often venture into the city to teach the small folk how to read or hear their folktales. It was how you first heard the songs they sang about you. The beauty of all the kingdoms. That’s what they called you and it meant so much more from then that it did the lords at court.

In Winterfell you spent time meeting and talking to everyone and anyone you could. Often you played hide and seek with the younger Starks and Sansa flocked to you like a mother hen. You also managed to gain the favour of many lords and ladies in the North as the South had taught you what to say and how.

When Ned Stark died it was not just the Young Wolf they rode out for and died for. It was you. While northerners cheered for Robb to be their king, Kingslanding silently begged for you their true queen to return and take the throne from your monster of a brother. You had even received letters from Dorne backing your claim. The king in the north and queen in the south.

However, you weren’t the only one who had a claim, a claim you had yet to announce you were fighting for to the world. Renly Baratheon also believed himself king. You couldn’t understand your uncles reasoning in the slightest. Stannis’s claim was the only logical one if Joffrey was a bastard and the lords sought a king not a queen. Why not join Stannis as his heir? Then you could never quite understand your uncle.

You hoped Lady Catelyn would however when she left to see his camp. Robb had insisted you did not go meet your uncle personally. While you had not announced your claim many rumours flew around about it and Robb was not prepared to send his wife off to a camp filled with your rivals’ men. Despite your marriage being a political one it had grown into love and admiration for each other. Little did Tywin know that it was not politically wise for him when he suggested it to your father who jumped at the chance to join houses with the Starks.

Every night she was gone you prayed for Catelyn’s return and your men’s safety so when you saw her arrive back at camp you began to thank them profusely. However, she returned with an extra man at her side. Or woman you should say.

Brienne of Tarth stood tall beside Catelyn, her hand always close to her sword. You were tending to the wounded when she arrived and did not have time to meet her just yet but as you gazed at her from across the camp you saw her eyes turn to you. when your eyes met you smiled and gave her a small wave. She was beautiful. Not in the typical sense you knew. But she was.

Robb was the one to tell you more about her. “Wait she was in his Kings guard? Like a knight?” You asked as you walked with your husband to the food area of your camp.

“Not a knight darling,” Robb had his hand linked with yours which kept your other free to wave to the Lords and soldiers who waved at you. even during war, they admired your elegance. “But she was his guard apparently. She beat Loras Tyrell in the tourney,”

“That couldn’t have been hard,” you joked, “that boy was all spindly legs when I saw him last,”

“He’s one of the best knights in the Kingdom,” Robbs laughed made your stomach flutter the same way it had the first night you met, “I don’t even know if I believe that she did,”

“I can believe it,”

“You see the good in everyone love,”

You snorted at his words as you took a bowl of stew from one of the men, “No,” you retorted as Robb got his own, raising an eyebrow at your words, “I just don’t announce my distrust to the world. Have I taught you noting?” you teased.

Robb rolled his eyes with a smile. You glanced over to where Brienne was sat alone and foodless. “You wanna go sit with her, don’t you?” he asked, and you nodded sheepishly, “Go on, make some friends,” Robb chuckled as he handed you another bowl of stew to give to the woman, “I’m gonna go eat with Lord Karstarks to talk battle plans,”

“Okay have fun, if that’s possible,” You grinned. Robb rolled his eyes before pressing a brief kiss to your lips and walking away.

You turned your attention to Brienne who was whitling a piece of wood with a knife. You smiled and nodded to all the men as you walked across the camp to where she sat on a log. “May I join you lady Brienne?” you smiled as you held out the bowl to her.

Brienne looked up quickly, her eyes wide, “It’s just Brienne. I’m no lady. I’m sure you would enjoy someone else’s company more your grace,” she said. You held the bowl out further his she finally took, “Thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” you said before sitting on the log beside her, Brienne looking at you as if she had three heads, “I thought your father was lord tarth?” you mused as you began to eat your stew, handing Brienne a spare spoon for hers.

Her eyes faltered between yours and the food, “Um he is,” she started as she turned her attention to stare into the camp, “I am a lady by birth right your grace but not by actions,”

“Life would be far more interesting if there were more ladies like you,”

“You don’t know me your grace,”

“Then what do I need to know?” you asked as you set your spoon down. “I’m all ears,”

Reluctantly Brienne began to tell you her life so far though not the personal bits of course. She told you how she found herself at Renly’s camp, how she fought for him, swore an oath to him, and became a king’s guard. You laughed at her stories, a genuine laugh that touched Brienne as you actually seemed to care. perhaps it was fake she thought. Perhaps that’s why people sang songs about you.

None the less she decided to enjoy your company at least for dinner, “It was about time someone knocked down Loras a leg or two. When I was eight, he spilled his father’s wine all down my dress because I told him his hair was ugly,”

Brienne couldn’t stop herself from laughing at your antics, “Maybe you shouldn’t have insulted him,”

“Oh, im sure he started it,” you joked as you set the now empty bowl on the ground, “if not him then it was defiantly Margaery. I refuse to accept it was my fault,” Normally Brienne would judge your words but the way you laughed made it clear unlike many you could handle a joke.

Something she appreciated as you laughed at hers. “I must say your grace you’re not what I expected from the songs,”

You groaned at her words, “Oh gods what do they sing about me over there?”

Brienne laughed at your fake agony, “Just the usual. That you’re beautiful and kind,”

“Have I offended you?” you joked turning to face her straight on, “Have I not been kind?”

Brienne flushed at your words, “Forgive me your grace. It’s just most Ladies I know aren’t as kind as you,”

“Or you,” you agreed, “Then again, I’ve never met another lady like you. it’s refreshing honestly. And for the record I hate those songs,” You confessed your longest running lie to a stranger, but Brienne moral code was stronger than the Starks.

“How can you hate being called beautiful?” she asked, and you could feel the resentment from her. the same feeling you got from many other ladies who would push you as a child or gossip about you as an adult.

You sighed as you placed your arms on your knees to lean forward, thinking before you spoke, “When Robb calls me beautiful I feel a warm feeling in me that spreads across me like a love struck plague,” you began, recalling the butterflies you had felt the first time he kissed your hand when you met. “The first time I heard one of those songs yes sure it made me feel good. Then I saw the way the lords would look at me. Then I heard what they sang and said when they thought I wasn’t around. They didn’t view me as a person,” you sighed as you recalled all the pervy comments and creepy stares.

“Im sorry you had to deal with that my lady,” Brienne placed her hand on your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze.

You turned your head to look at her and sat back up, “it’s not your fault. Besides everyone’s beautiful in their own way,” you mused.

Brienne barked out a laugh. “That’s where you’re wrong my lady,”

“You can find beauty everywhere. All you need to do is look,” you said as you looked out over the camp. “See him over there? With the dried blood covering his face?” you nodded towards one of the Karstarks boys and Brienne couldn’t help but noted how the battles must have harmed his face, “He has the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. Better than all the singers in Kingslanding and him,” you nodded towards another unassuming man by the fire, “Whittles these wooden figures that have so much detail and grace in every carving. Even him,” you nodded at the most closed off, grumpy one of your fighters who constantly looked ready to spit on someone, “has the biggest most beautiful smile when he laughs. Just because you can’t see the beauty at first glance doesn’t mean it’s not there,”

Brienne looked around the camp at all the different men and how they spoke, laughed, and moved. “Do you know all of your men?” she asked.

“I try to,” you answered as you took both your dirty dishes to take to be washed but one of your men stopped you to take them from you, “Thank you lord Umber,” you smiled at him before turning back to Brienne, “People respond far better to kindness than cruelness,”

“It’s a shame that most find it easier to be cruel than kind,” Brienne said as you both continued to walk around the camp. She enjoyed your company more than she’d like to admit.

You glanced to where Catelyn sat alone with her food in deep thought, “Hurt people hurt. While it does dismiss their actions it can help to explain them,”

“I suppose,” Brienne agreed, “But it’s hard not to hate them for it,”

“I know. trust me,” you said as you linked your arm with the woman who flinched initially at your touch. However, Brienne found comfort in the way you held her arm as you guided her around camp. “The sky’s so beautiful tonight,” you broke the comfortable silence.

“It is,” Brienne paused as she thought. She wanted to ask but worried you would think her weird. “Can you truly see the beauty in everything?” she asked. Brienne was mocked constantly growing up for her looks and how she acted. Men flinched when they saw her, but you looked at her with deep admiration.

“Everyone can. If they take the time,” you knew what she was thinking without her saying. You heard your own men mock her in the shadows and how they laughed. Some people were cruel, but you refused to be to those who had done nothing to deserve it. “I used to dream of knights as a child,” Brienne raised an eyebrow as you began your tangent. “Of how they rode their horses with such expertise and how they didn’t even have to look to know where their knife was about to strike. I used to admire their honour and their duty. Of course, I also dreamed about their armour and how imposing it made them look. I wanted to surround myself with them so that the men in their armour and imposing nature would protect me out of honour and morality.

Those dreams died the first time a knight made a pass at me at 14,” Brienne screwed her face up at the idea that anyone, any man, would dream of hurting you, “I remember how his head rolled off his body when my father executed him for it. so, I stopped dreaming of knights,” You stopped walking to turn to Brienne, taking her hands in yours. Your hands were soft and tender while hers were rough and scarred, “You however are the truest knight I have ever met. And that Brienne is far more beautiful than hair of black silk or just another pretty face. You’re the most handsome, beautiful knight I have ever laid my eyes upon so don’t let silly boys ruin what you see in the mirror,”

Tears lined Brienne eyes, but she had taught herself not to let them fall even when you gave her hands a gentle squeeze, “I am no knight my lady,”

“Not yet,” you said as you removed your hands from hers, “But when I am queen, I will make sure you are,”

Brienne had already sworn her loyalty to Renly but her king was dead and now she was stood before someone equally as kind as he had been to her, “You would make a fine queen your grace of the north or the south,” You smiled at her words, “But what of your brother?” she asked.

“That boy is the cruellest person I have ever met,” you said as you stared off into the distance, “He will only be beautiful when he is dead,”

Brienne had assumed by your appearance you knew nothing of politics and war but as she saw your jaw clench and your eyes gaze into the distance, she knew she had been wrong. The sound of her unsheathing her sword brought your attention back to her and you could hear the camp go silent at her actions. Your men’s hands flew to their own sword hilts as they watched her but relaxed slightly when Brienne went on one knee, holding her sword out to you, “It would be my honour to serve you your grace,” Brienne said, “As queen in the north and in the south,”

You smiled at her words, a genuine smile of love and compassion, “You honour me greatly Brienne of Tarth,” your hand came to rest on her shoulder, “When the war is won and Kingslanding has been saved and Ned Stark avenged I will have you knighted before the iron throne before the gods and the realm,”

Brienne looked up at you, her eyes wet with happy tears. You smiled down at her with love and sincerity, something even Renly’s eyes failed to offer at times. “A good day that’ll be your grace,”