#she trained him as a weapon and he is aware of that

[elzifelzi]

PHANTOM

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Chapter 13:The HUNTER moves!

Utterly wounded and defeated, Danny invisibly made his way back home.Once he was safely there he reverted back to his human form and passed out.When he finally came to, he was greeted by a concerned Tucker tending to his wounds.

He woke up disoriented, completely unaware of what was going on or where he actually was at the moment but eventually the throbbing pain that he felt in his arm assisted in jogging his memory.

Dan:”uhh, I feel like shit….”

Tucker:”You don't look too good either…”

Dan:”gee thanks..”

Tucker:”sorry…”

He hands him a bottle of water which Dan gladly accepts without hesitance Dan throws back the entire bottle spilling water all over his jaw and body in the process.

Tucker:”They banged you up real good,huh?”

Dan nods in response while wiping off his face.

Tucker:”Who was that?”

Dan shrugs.

Dan:”Your guess is as good as mine, most likely some ghost hunter working for Masters Inc.”

Tucker:”I had the same hunch,the fact that the access codes worked is proof of that.”

Dan:”That suit, the glider,they both look very familiar ,I think I've seen them in some of my mom's old blueprints and well since Vlad is an old lab partner of my folks it's possible that he kept any designs that the 3 of them came up with together .”

Tucker:”With your parents giving up ghost hunting it makes sense Vlad would keep them..”

Dan nods in response Then looks away into the distance..His parents they've Been a very passive thought in his mind this past year but he found it to be such a wicked twist of fate that no matter how far he ran he couldn't escape their ghosts. He immediately snapped back to reality Not wanting Tucker to worry.

Dan:”So it's very safe to assume that whoever this mystery hunter is,was trained by Vlad Masters himself.”

Tucker:”So what's the plan to beat her?avoid all her anti ghost weapons?”

Dan:”easier said than done .That blood blossom crap she hit me with really did a number on me.That thing is apparently like Kryptonite to ghosts.”

He slowly gets up on his two feet before wobbling and falling back down,luckily Tucker catches him.

Tucker:”Danny, don’t push yourself…

 you need to rest, we'll figure something out.”

He carries the wounded Hero to his room,where he collapses on his bed.

Meanwhile back at Masters Inc, the Red Huntress appears to have set up an audience with Vlad Masters himself.Vlad greets her with open arms before offering her a chair next to his table

Vlad:”You can remove the mask while you're here you know…”

Red Huntress:”Oh! My bad!”

She pulls off her mask to reveal the familiar face of none other than Valerie Grey.

Vlad:”So Valerie,I take it you come bearing good news?”

Valerie reaches into her pocket and pulls out a phone-like device,then she slides it across the Table to Vlad.Who raises an eyebrow skeptically.

Valerie:”You were right on the money, Phantom was at my school today.that device contains all the footage my mask captured from our fight.”

Vlad gives her a pleased smile.

Vlad:”Excellent Job Valerie,and what of the ghost boy himself?”

Valerie leaned back in her chair,

Valerie:”he got away, I had him on the ropes but at the last minute my glider started going crazy and it gave him just enough time to run..”

Vlad looks at her skeptically.

Vlad:”That's peculiar, and this is the first time this has happened?”

She nods.

Vlad:”Then it appears that your board may have been hacked into..”

Valerie's eyes widened in shock.

Valerie:”But wouldn't my sensors have noticed if someone invaded my systems?”

Vlad:”Yes they would've,if the culprit was an amateur.”

Valerie:”huh?”

Using his computer Vlad quickly pulls up the blueprints for Valerie's suit and glider.

Vlad:”The security system in your tech while state of the art isn't impenetrable. The technology is delicate and as such it takes approximately 2 minutes for the firewall to locate and destroy the threat.It is possible that Whoever got into your board was fully aware of that 2 minute interval and was able to use it to their advantage, a feat that would only be possible if they had access to Masters Incs override codes.”

Valerie:”So you're saying this was an inside Job?”

Vlad gets up from his seat and walks over to Valerie's side.

Vlad:”I'm saying that this Phantom boy isn't working alone and if he has allies that are capable of infiltrating your suit then it's only a matter of time before they find out your identity.Meaning…”

Valerie:”Meaning we need to catch Phantom before it happens.”

Vlad places a prideful hand on her shoulder

Vlad:”atta girl!! Now if I'm not mistaken you have dinner with your father soon,correct?”

Valerie immediately jumps out of her seat completely unaware of the time.

Valerie:”That's right! I gotta go!”

She begins running out of the office but then stops midway.

Valerie:”Actually I have one question,during the fight I suddenly started feeling very dizzy,but I Don't know why.”

Vlad strokes his beard

Vlad:”it's probably just your body still trying to get used to the suit..I wouldn't let that worry me.”

Valerie:”oh!Well alright, have a good night Mr Masters.”

She points over to the restrained and unconscious box ghost in the corner of the room.

Valerie:”And consider that a gift from me to you!”

Vlad lets out a small chuckle while waving her goodbye,Then when she leaves he takes a seat behind his desk and stares intently at the locked up box ghost.

Vlad:”Don't you want back your man Skulker?”

Skulker emerges from the Shadows

Skulker:”As much as it brings me joy watching him bound In chains like that I unfortunately still need him around.”

Vlad nods 

Vlad:”It is impressive that the girl was able to successfully capture him though,I fully expected him to escape.”

Skulker slammed his fist into a nearby wall.

Skulker:”yes…very impressive….”

Vlad:”I take it that you're not happy with the performance that your people have given thus far.”

Enraged, Skulker crushes Vlads desk much to the old man's surprise.

Skulker:”That boy has grown into quite the nuisance,a nuisance That I will not allow to ruin MY reputation any Longer!Defeating my men flying around like he's some kind of hero..no more!”

The rage in the ghost hunters voice Was incredible for a moment it felt as of death itself

Vlad:”but he still isn't at the level of strength you need,what should we do?”

Skulker:”I think It's about time that I humbled him.”

To be continued….

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Chapter 14:Raise The Stakes.

The following Day,after Dan had almost completely recovered from his wounds from the Battle prior, he and Tucker went to the school lab to analyze the ghost portal. Dan suggested it would probably be best if they looked over it at home instead,since they could possibly draw a lot of unwanted attention to themselves, but Tucker had argued that a lot of equipment they would need to work on the portal was already at the school and since it was the last day before summer break the campus would mainly be empty.Realizing he could not argue against Tuckers logic,Dan agreed to working in the school lab.With the frequency of ghost attacks since Dan got his powers The duo had hoped that the ghost portal could help them get a better idea of where all these ghosts were coming from. 

Dan:”I still think we'd be better off figuring out who that ghost hunter chick is.”

He stood near the portal a look of uncertainty on his face.He had every right to be uncertain the last time he stood in this lab his life was forever changed,who knows what could happen this time.

Tucker:”Listen man,like I said it won't do us much good to go searching after her!”

In swift motion Dan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms . 

Dan:”why not!?”

Tucker:”Think, she's no doubt figured out we got into her system last fight,there's no doubt that they've figured out how to fix that by now.”

Dan:”Ok go on.”

Tucker:” I'm willing to bet Masters Inc has a lot better tech than my shitty  little smartphone and I'm also willing to bet that a company as big as that keeps tabs on their employees even more so if she's working for Vlad directly. I'm willing to bet they keep employee information under lock and key..meaning I probably can't hack into their systems to find out who she is. Seeing that she wears a mask which is very uncommon from Masters inc ghost Hunters, we also have to consider the possibility that her identity may be a secret even to Employees inside Masters Inc so even if I was able to Hack their systems it's very possible that her actual identity isn't in there or it's under an alias. She could be an unlisted bounty hunter for all we know.Hell we don't even know if she was recently hired for all we know She could've been anemployee.We'd be going in off of one interaction fully blind with no leads and no idea of what we're even looking for!Picture trying to find a needle in a haystack when you 1)don't even know that you're supposed to be looking for a needle 2) have to consider the possibility that the needle in question that you're looking for might also look like a piece of hay.Right now It's futile.”

Dan:”...”

Dan was taken aback at Tucker’s calm and clever analysis of the entire situation; he had never noticed it before since Tucker is constantly joking around but his friend was very smart when he put his mind to it but he'd never tell him that to his facem

Dan:”Damn,I uh can't argue with that logic.”

The Duo then refocuses Their attention to the damaged portal in front of them,just as broken as they left it.

Dan:”So you think all the ghost attacks came from this? “

Tucker:”I'm not 100% sure but it's all we've got to go off of. “

Dan hits the top of the ghost portal making a loud thud. 

Dan:”But the thing’s been busted ever since my accident, like there's no signs of a 2nd activation. Which is weird considering all the ghosts I've fought since then.”

Tucker:”That's why I said I'm not 100% sure the only other possible reason could be that there's another fully functioning ghost portal. “

Dan:”You think Masters has one?”

Tucker:”It's a possibility,maybe he managed to make your folks' old designs work.”

Once again his parents Ghosts giving him trouble.

Dan:”That would explain where the ghosts are coming from.. But if that's the case all we have to do is find it and destroy it right?” 

Tuck shakes his head

Tucker: “It doesn't work that way, let's say in theory that there is another working portal, destroying it would be the last thing we'd want to do.”

Dan:”why?”

Tucker:”this "ghost realm " most likely operates as a flipside to our world or is at least closely linked to it; we wouldn't be able to even create a portal to it otherwise.”

Dan:”Soo we're connected?”

Tucker nods

Tucker:”think of it as a door separating 2 rooms. If you want to limit access to the room you just close the door and The two rooms remain separate but if you blow up the door you run The risk of Destroying both rooms in the process.”

Dan: “I get it so if we destroy the portal the ghost zone and our realms will collapse into each other.”

Tucker: “exactly.”

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of Sam

Sam :”Hey ,Lancer told me that you guys would be here.”

Dan:"Hey sam!How was your date?”

She flashes Dan a devilish green as she leans in closer.

Sam:”Why do you wanna know? You jealous?”

Dan scoffs.

Dan:”No,I was just curious how long it took before Kwan got totally freaked out by you.”

She bursts out laughing

Sam:”About 15 minutes.”

Dan joins in the laughter.

Dan:”really?”

Sam:”Nah,he's a cool guy and the movie was fun but it would never work out.”

Tucker:”why not?”

Without either of them knowing Sam steals a glance at Danny.

Sam:”I guess I'm just into a different type of guy.”

While staring at Danny she notices the ghost portal sitting on the desk, glances at the ghost portal and then back at the two of them. 

Sam:”What's that?”

Tucker:”That's our prototype ghost portal.”

Sam:”the one that exploded?”

Dan :”yup.”

Sam:”Oh damn, Can I take a look at it?”

Dan shrugged.

Dan:”be our guest”

She snatched Tucker's goggles from his eyes and began inspecting the portal.  Opening up the back she begins prodding through circuitry and inner components. Then she looked over their blueprints 

Sam:”I think I found the problem.”

Dan and Tucker:”you did!??”

Sam:”yeah, first off the portal frame itself is too small.

Tucker:”Really?would the frame make that much of a difference?”

Sam:”Of course! Does the frame of a door affect your ability to pass through it?”

Tucker:”Fair point.”

Sam:”you're basically punching a hole through dimensions you can't do that with a frame this size the ecto energy needs to surge and flow for the pathway to open, if it can't all that condensed ecto energy will just shoot out into one direction and overload the portal.”

Dan:”That's exactly what happened.”

Sam:”Secondly the wiring is all completely wrong, it's a wonder it managed to run once at all. “

Tucker turns to Danny.

Tucker:”I guess your Dads blueprints weren't the best to go off of.”

Dan shrugged

Dan:”I guess so.”

Sam:”No, it's a decent foundation, it just needs some tweaking.”

Dan:”So can you help us fix it?”

Sam: “Sure why not. “

Dan and Tucker were relieved that surely with Sam's help they could get the portal up and running,but their relief was short lived when Suddenly a stream of blue smoke came out from Danny's mouth and almost as if in unison the ectopus materialized itself in the middle of the room. 

Dan:”oh no..”

Sam:”Is that what I think it is!? “

Sam jumped back creating distance between her and their potential assailant,she'd seen Phantom fight many ghosts on the news but she still hadn’t gotten used to seeing them  in person. 

Dan not wanting Sam to get hurt signaled for Tucker to get her to a safe distance. Following Dan's wishes,Tucker grabbed her and ran to the back of the room for safety. 

Tucker:”do your thing Danny!!!”

Sam:”What thing!?”

Dan:”I'm going Ghost!”

Rings of light appeared on Danny's body and in a flash he had changed into his ghost persona. He was no longer Dan Fenton; he was Phantom. 

Sam:”Danny is Phantom!!” 

She stares at Tucker with a look of bewilderment mixed with “why did you guys never tell me.”

Tucker:"It's a long story.”

Dan turned to ectopus, his eyes glowing green with determination fully prepared for battle.

Dan delivered a vicious right kick at the ghost knocking it into the wall, the ghost quickly recovers and launches 6 of its tentacles at him, which Dan proceeds to dodge effortlessly.He gets in close and delivers countless rapid punches disorienting the ghost but eventually it regained its composure; they started trading punches at each other,fist for fist blow for blow with neither of them wavering even the slightest, however Ectopus gains the upper had and knocks Dan into a nearby wall, Dan gets up and rushes towards the ghosts. He fires a barrage of  blasts at the creature , but his opponent did not waver instead he used his tentacles to deflect each of them, knocking them toward Sam and Tucker who were hiding behind a desk, without thinking Dan swoops in after them, saving them just in the knick of time. Angry that the ghosts would stoop so low as to hurt his friends Dan grabs its tentacles and begins to spin it around before throwing it out of a nearby window. Wiping off his hands he breathes a sigh of relief as Tucker and Sam make their way to him. 

Dan:”Good riddance.”

Tucker:”Damn Danny you're getting real good with those powers, that was the quickest I've ever seen you beat a ghost.” 

Dan:”Yeah, it was too easy. “

Sam:”soo would you guys care to explain what the hell just happened!!?? “

Suddenly Dan's ghost sense began flaring up again and as if on cue a familiar figure appeared in a cloud of blue smoke.It was the box ghost surrounded by floating boxes filled with the souls of countless humans.  A loud sigh escaped Dan's mouth as if just the sight of this ghost was enough to drain him.

Dan: “not this guy again.... “

Sam: “Who is he?”

Box ghost :”I am the box ghost!!”

She turns to Dan with a confused look  on her face, a look that was unsure whether she should be scared or amused.

Dan:”yeahh he used to be scarier before.”

Sam, not seeing him as a threat, decided to calm down and boldly face the ghost directly.

Sam:”So… you like haunt boxes? “

Fearing that the ghost would hurt her, Tucker steps in between the 2 of them.

Tucker: “I wish it was that simple, this creep has the ability to steal souls and trap them in his "boxes". 

Sam:”That's actually kind of cool. “

In an attempt to seem non threatening the box ghost dropped his items and walked over to Dan.

Dan:”listen creep,if you want to fight then let's go”

Box ghost : “I didn't come to fight today. I came to warn you.”

Dan:”what? Why?”

Box ghost :”there's a brutal ghost after you, one of the most terrifying ghosts in all of the ghost zone. Skulker!!.”

Tucker:”Who is he? And what does he want with Danny?”

Box ghost :”Skulker is a hunter, a collector of things, special and rare, and You Phantom, are currently his number one target. The  hybrid between ghost and human.”

The box ghost spoke in an earnest voice almost as if he cared for Danny's well being, but that certainly wasn't the case. He wanted to regain control of the ghost zone and In order for his plan to succeed he needed Dan alive by any means necessary. 

He knew Skulker's patience was running thin. He didn't know why Phantom was so important that Skulker didn't just capture him yet but he did know that he could use that to his advantage.

Dan:”soo I'm just some prize to him?”

Box ghost :”oh no it's more than that, Skulker gets pleasure in the joy of the hunt, chasing his prey, catching his prey, and torturing them. He has done this many times be it to a ghost or a human, but for you it's different for some reason he hasn't decided to capture you yet.”

Tucker:”why would a hunter keep their prey alive?”

The box ghost shrugged.

Box ghost:”I don't know,all I do know is that he and his mysterious partners have been sending these enemies after you to test you”

Dan:” why are you warning me and what's your relationship to this skulker person?”

Tucker :”Yeah, explain yourself.”

Box ghost :”sigh... Skulker was.. Is my employer and back when we were alive he was my best friend,but my mortal life is unimportant. When I died, I, just like other lost spirits, was sent to the ghost zone.. With my superior strength I quickly became one of its fiercest leaders until he showed up..”

Sam:”skulker?”

The ghost nodded in response.

Box ghost :”yes, he quickly rallied all the ghosts who were willing to oppose me and in a matter of weeks, I lost my territory and authority in the ghost zone, and Skulker he became one of the most feared ghosts ever. I tried to fight him off but he overpowered me.”

He placed his hand over his left eye, almost as if by simply recalling the event he reopened the wound.

Box ghost:”He's the reason I wear this eyepatch.”

Box ghost :” he then slaughtered every sentient spirit that ever dared oppose him, he even destroyed those that helped him overthrow me anyone that he could do away with he did.”

Dan:”Then why did he keep you?”

Box ghost picks up one of his soul boxes and hands it to Dan.

Box ghost :”My ability is called soul separation, I can steal souls from creatures and store them.If A ghost consumes a living soul, their power becomes overwhelming, but they slowly start becoming corrupt. Skulker has been using my ability to get souls for him to feed off of, making him overwhelmingly powerful.”

A loud Boom sounds off and along with it  the wall that stood tall behind the box ghost became a crumbled mess. Above it stood the very ghost that they spoke of.. Skulker grabbed the box ghost by the throat and pointed his hook at his right eye, and he looked directly at Dan as he spoke. 

Skulker :”my oh my, you can't be telling my business to strangers now. It makes me very very angry.”

With those words he poked out the box ghost's right eye, causing green ghostly blood to Drip down his hook.

The tension in the air  thickened as Dan stared down what would certainly be the deadliest ghost he's faced so far, Tucker and Sam being the loyal friends that they are, stood firmly at his side prepared for what was about to happen next. Skulker pulls out his hook from the box ghost's eye, causing ectoplasmic blood to squirt everywhere, receiving a disgusted reaction from the group of friends , the box ghost who was now fully blind dropped to the floor with hands over his face screaming in agony. Skulker ignored the injured ghost and made his way to the group.

Dan:”don't come any closer, freak or…”

Skulker :”or what!? You'll use those pitiful attacks of yours on me. I've heard about you from that piece of trash over there as well as many other ghosts that you've fought. You're average at best.”

Dan:”I beat all of their sorry asses,and you won't be any different!!”

Dan rushes towards skulker with a fierce left hook only for the ghost to catch it. Using the ecto nullifier he had received from Vlad, Skulker without Dan knowing disabled the boy's ghost powers for 6 hours.Skulker sized up Dan before taking his hook and shoving it through Dan's chest, he then raised Dan over his head and slammed him over his knee before letting him drop to the floor. Dan screams out in pain, a reaction that seemed to disgust Skulker.With a disappointed look on his already stern face, he loomed over Dan.

Skulker :”you don't get it ghost boy! Up until this point you've only fought garbage, all those low level ghosts that I sent after you after learning that you just barely defeated that piece of trash behind me.”

He points over to the box ghost, who was still rolling in pain after having his eyeball punctured. Then the large ghost knelt down next to Dan, grabbing the back of his head and repeatedly slammed his head into the ground a move that Dan had been on the other end of before

Skulker :”That fool was the strongest ghost that you've ever beaten and he's still bottom of the barrel shit compared to me!”

Tucker and Sam could only look on in horror as they watched what horrible fate had befallen their friend.

Skulker:”You think you're tough shit huh!?Wrong!”

He pressed the ghost boy's face into the ground, further damaging the floor.

Skulker:”The only reason you've gotten this far Is because you haven't faced a real ghost! You haven't  faced a real threat.”

Dan struggled to get words out but at that Point he could barely speak at a normal volume anymore.

Dan:”why…..are y-y-ou d-ing this..”

Skulker:”why!?because you needed a lesson in humility!”

He gets up and presses his boot firmly into Dan's back.

Skulker:”and I'm your teacher..”

 Dan forced his head up and looked over to them,he was barely breathing and spat out blood with every short breath that he took. 

Dan:”Tucker S-Sam Run!!!”

At the sound of Dan's request Skulked pressed his hook against The ghost boy's throat, and turned to Them. 

Skulker :”You leave and I slice his head off.”

His words froze them in place allowing Skulker to return to torturing Dan. He looked at the boy with disgust. 

Skulker :”you think you're some hero, well you ain't, you're no different from me.. A ghost hunting other ghosts, the only difference is the fact that I actually have the power to actually  keep up the hunt. “

He slammed Dan's head into the floor once again,at this point a small crater has formed from it,and Dan is as good as unconscious. 

Skulker :”listen ghost boy, I'm not going to kill you... At least not today as the box ghost already told you, your of more use to use alive. So you get a free pass today....but I will be back, you won't know when but I'll return and when I do I'll make you suffer!!. So you better give me a good fight.”

Skulker:”but just know you're only still living because I allow it…”

He stood up and began walking away then he stopped and turned to the box ghost. 

Skulker :”you may be a backstabbing piece of trash but you're still of use to me... For now. “

He picked Up the ghost with one arm and then using his other he opened a green swirling portall.As he prepared to leave he looked back at the injured hero and his friends. 

Skulker:”And don't bother trying to hide from me,I'm a hunter I can track you wherever you go.As long as you use your powers I'll find you”

Following his threat and with the box ghost slung over his shoulder he walked through the portal and vanished away like it was nothing. Tucker and Sam ran to Dan who was lying unconscious on the floor, Tucker hoisted him over his shoulder by his right srm, unable to look at his friend in such a state. 

Tucker:”I gotta get him out of here.... “

Sam grabs the ghost boy's other arm and helps Tucker lift him up. 

Sam:”we gotta get him out of here... “

Tucker:”Listen Sam, It's fine There is no reason for you to drag yourself into all of this…”

Sam:”Like hell it is!!!!”

Tucker :”I'm telling you, you don't have to.. You don't even know us like that!!”

Tucker's comment struck a nerve and Sam blew up at him.

Sam:”I don't know!? I don't know!? I know both of you are my friends ,I know one of my friends got injured trying to protect me,and I know the other friend is about to get his ass kicked if he doesn't let me help!!”

Realizing Sam's determination Tucker Didn't have the heart nor the bravery to refuse her; he raises Dan's unconscious body higher and turns to Sam. 

Tucker:”well.. What are you waiting for? Let's get our friend to safety! “

Sam gave him an affirming nod and the two of them immediately set out for Tuckers apartment. Mr Lancer who heard the commotion rushed into the lab, only to find it empty and destroyed much to his dismay. 

Lancer:”What in the Reckoning of Roku happened here?”

After arriving at their run down old apartment Sam and Tucker place Dan on his bed and begin patching up most of his wounds.After all their hard work tending to his wounds all they could do was wait for him to wake up. Luckily Dan's ghost healing factor started kicking in and After a few hours of sleep he finally woke up.They fill Dan in on what little happened while he was unconscious.

Tucker:”So long story short Skulker will be after you.”

Dan:”I figured”

Sam:”He said he can track you as long as you use your ghost powers, which BTW you haven't told me how you got.”

Dan forces himself up off the bed wincing in pain with every movement that makes.

Dan:”I'll get to that later.. but right now I  need to figure out a way to get stronger without Skulker knowing.. “

Tucker:”Well we can't do it here in the city. This place would be the 1st place he'd look..not to mention that new ghost hunter lurking around.We'd need to get you out of the city somehow.. Luckily tomorrow's summer break.The question is where would we go?”

Sam:”I know a place. “

Back in the Ghost Zone skulker sits on his throne of skulls,the box ghost who is now fully blind is kept on a leash just like his other pets and he's talking to a mysterious cloaked figure. 

???? :”So you met the boy?”

Skulker :”yes”

???? :”and your verdict..has your bloodlust been satisfied? ”

Skulker :”not in the slightest! He has potential but like I told masters at his current strength he isn't even worthy enough to stain my hook with his blood.. But,a hunt is a hunt..” 

???? :”remember skulker this isn't an ordinary hunt.. The boy is worth A Lot to us..... Alive”

Skulker :”yeah yeah we'll see if I stick to that promise,a hunter willingly putting his hunt on hold for this long is maddening,I may lose my cool and go kill him on accident.”

The conversation between the two continued with the mysterious figure urging skulker to keep Dan alive at all costs. 

???? :”skulker you know how important that boy is, you know that the chances of someone like him occurring are…”

Skulker :”once in a lifetime Yada Yada Yada. You forget two things....”

????:”What's that?”

Skulker :”The boy's humanity and his willingness to hold onto it is a key component to our plans, and as long as he's half human and believes himself to be a hero he'll never willingly agree to our terms!!”

???? :”Why do you believe that?”

The supposed foolishness of the question angered Skulker and in a fit of rage he slammed his hand onto his throne with so much force that it toppled over. He seized the figure by the cloak and hoisted him up into the air. 

Skulker :”Listen closely, cuz if I have to repeat myself or if you ask another stupid ass question, the box ghost will have 20/20 vision compared to you. “

The figure who at this point was gasping for air complied with his request so Skulker set him down and began to explain. 

Skulker :”I don't know if you were once alive but I was and here's the thing with humanity.. Whether they're good or evil there's always a reason.See humans live by this mentality that good and evil are as black and white as they sound.. Hell they even created Gods and Devils to personify good and evil. I always thought it was ridiculous but that boy, his humanity led him down the path of good. I have power so I can use it to help people was probably his thought process after Getting ghost powers.”

???? : “go on... “

Skulker :”The boy was given our powers, we don't know how but all we do know is that he's decided to use them to protect the good of his people, a hero of sorts he could've done anything else but he chose to help people. Now let me ask you this if humans are good and he's the hero...What does that make us?” 

???? :”the villains?”

Skulker :”my point exactly..the boy's human half keeps the human morality while his ghost half executes his moral beliefs. He believes he's a hero so he behaves like a hero…” 

???? :”What exactly is your point?”

Skulker :”My point is that I already know what happens if someone like him chooses to live with selfish means and a person like that CANNOT help us accomplish our goals. Unfortunately, that boy's foolish purity is needed but, having someone else like that on our side Might help sway the boy to do what we need him to.”

???? :”where would we get someone like that..”

Skulker :”There is another half ghost in Amity,he has taken to keeping himself hidden but I believe it's time that he joined our cause.”

????:”If you knew about another halfa this entire time why haven't we recruited him? Why are we even wasting our time with the boy?!”

In an attempt to silence his fellow ghost Skulker stomps his foot into the ground causing small ripples throughout the entire island.

Skulker:”This person has far too much maliciousness in their heart to accomplish the goal that we have set for the boy.”

????:”You really think you can find this mystery person?”

Skulker:”I already have..however recruiting him will be your job.”.

???? :”So what about the ghost boy? 

Skulker runs his hook along the line of his jagged metallic teeth and lets loose a snarl menacing enough to make a lion quiver. 

Skulker :”I'll hunt the boy and bring him to you alive.. I'll give you that much. However, him staying alive will be completely dependent on what happens Next.”

???? :”you think he'll actually face you again after what you did to him?” 

Skulker :”maybe not at first but remember what I told you about him, he'll come around eventually,when he gets stronger...” 

???? :”seems fair enough.”

The figure turns to the disabled box ghost and shakes his head. 

???? :”what will you do with this one?”

Skulker :”your higher ups have instructed that I keep him alive.. His soul separation ability is of great use to them.. And me, as well as his other abilities. “

???? :”Has he managed to perfect it?” 

Skulker:”not yet but it's only a matter of time.. All he needs is the proper incentive..”

???? :”I'll leave you to it then”

The figure prepares to leave but stops as if he forgot to tell skulker something. He turns around, pulls out a torn piece of paper from his cloak sleeve and places it on a skulker's hook. 

???? :”I forgot to give you this.”

Skulker: What is it?

???? :”She wanted you to have it.. “

With those words the figure left. Skulker read the note which read "It's been a while hope you're prepared for my comeback". Signed EM. He looked up at the abyssal sky of the ghost zone as if something terrible was approaching. 

Skulker:”That girl is quite the shit talker!”

To be continued…. END OF ARC 1

READ the other released Chapters here

Welp, we finally made it to the end of the first arc, now we're finally entering the nitty gritty of the story!These 2 chapters were initially written as one long one, so I figured I'd just drop them together like the last 2.

I hope you guys have enjoyed it so far and I hope you'll keep reading!

[keylimeart]

truly thought no one would care for the space regency,,, I see now that I was wrong-

I’m not sure when I’m going to draw next, so I’m answering some questions en masse under the cut

I lost the ask but it was about the Mandalorians in medieval armor, and I see this vision and I like this vision but it is not my vision. I’m thinking full Jane Austen and Bridgerton s1 & 2 vibes just with space ships instead of carriages, so the Mandalorians are more like people who live out in the countryside. They are wealthy from beskar trade and have status, but they don’t really socialize outside of their planet so they are a bit off-putting (especially Bo-Katan). I also think it is interesting to explore how Din would use the rules of society as armor to hide behind! The scandal of a layman with a son becoming the Duke of Mandalore; Din would have to adapt quickly and learn how to use his words and actions as weapons.

Padmé and the handmaidens: Padmé got voted in as Duchess at 14 because of her work with her father building homes for the poor on Naboo. She was the kind of person who cared a lot about each person they did work for and made an effort to try and improve their lives as much as she could. Her handmaidens stick to the original 5, but also go by their original names (ie Sabé is Tsabin, Rabé is Rabene, etc). They aren’t trained in defense, but they are Padmé’s closest friends as being suddenly placed as Duchess of an entire planet is very isolating. Tsabin could switch places with Padmé when they were younger, and at the beginning of her rule did at Particularly boring parties, but eventually gave it up when Padmé’s passion for the job outweighed her hesitations.

Alderaan and the Organas: Leia mainly grew up on Alderaan. Bail Organa was Padmé’s first supporter in the House of Lords, and they’re very close. Breha spends a lot of time on Alderaan learning from and supporting her people, which Padmé greatly admires and she wants to give Leia a better political education than herself and trusts Bail and Breha. Leia goes to Alderaan sort of like boarding school, but it’s a one-on-one sort of thing with her and the Organas. When Leia entered society she moved back to Naboo full time to learn about her own people and their needs.

When does Luke enlist? Well, he doesn’t. I think the sort of isolation that we see cannon Luke have in BOBF/sequels comes from him being the Only Jedi, but that wouldn’t really still work if there’s a royal funded army all his life. I think of Luke in this au as someone fully aware that he isn’t heir to the duchy, he’s not even a spare. He kinda fills the role of “woman who must marry” in that way. He’s extremely well-bred, knows all the rules of polite society, speaks multiple languages, etc etc but he has no real political power. His best trait, as society sees it, is giving someone the ability to marry into a family with wealth and very good connections. If Din had to learn quickly how to use the rules of society as weapons, Luke’s been doing it all his life. They make good sparring partners as conversationalists.

Which, while we’re talking about being enlisted, Anakin is dismissed from the Royal Galactic Army when the queen learns he’s engaged to Padmé. It is unbecoming of a gentleman in such a position to be a soldier. But on the bright side, Anakin never felt comfortable or wanted to be in the Army, he just did it because he felt indebted to Qui-Gonn. He does actually really enjoy being at home with the twins when they are so young, and when Leia starts visiting Alderaan on long trips Anakin splits his time between doing woodwork and construction with Ruwee in Theed and visiting Tattooine with Luke.

What is Han like in this au? Han is Han, which is to say he’s a pilot. He’s specifically a cargo pilot looking into entering the trade world, which is why he is initially interested in making acquaintance with the twins. They are very close with their Uncle Obi-Wan who owns a very profitable kyber mine but doesn’t have much time to run it (smth Luke helps out with when he’s older) and wouldn’t that be just the perfect place for a nobody like Han to get his foot in the door? Transporting expensive crystals, be a shame if someone were to skim some for their own sales, especially someone courting Leia. It would be quite the scandal don’t you think?

By the time we get to the “sequels”, the lineage is: Padmé has passed and Leia is Duchess of Naboo. She has one son, Ben, and Han has left the picture (he still loves Leia, he just couldn’t do the whole society thing. He didn’t realize what a bad spot socially that put Leia and all of Naboo in) Din is Duke of Mandalore, and Luke is the Duke Consort of Mandalore. They have three children, Grogu, Finn and Rey (all adopted, and in space regency that’s legitimate). I kind of imagine the prequels, ot, and sequels of this au as like different tv seasons, so the main plot of “season 3” is that Rey is the only female relative of Leia, and the Queen decides that she is to take on the Duchy of Naboo when Leia passes. This makes Ben Very Angry, and he starts stirring up political trouble (as if Naboo wasn’t already having a hard enough time). Luke is also displeased with the decision to make Rey next in line because he and Din raised their children not to be politicians but to have good lives. Finn started studying politics simply because he had interest in it, and it was sort of an open secret that once he was ready Din would give him the Broach (stand in for dark saber) so like all this Rey stuff throws a wrench in their plans for Rey’s life. Plus that’s his baby!!! His youngest!! He doesn’t want her to go :( I’m only halfway through the book but “season 3” has Emma by Jane Austen vibes in my mind.

That all took like an hour to write up I don’t know how fic writers do it. I hope that all makes sense?? I’m happy to yap more if anyone wants, and I have some ideas to draw so we will see if I end up actually posting. Thanks if you read all this way!! I’m gonna use the tag “keylime space regency” to organize this stuff so if I post more of this au that’ll be the place to go :)

[voelene]

Something that might be interesting:

That Lucanis needs to relearn how to trust

RElearn, not learn

As a Crow, I doubt he trusts many people in the first place

But you know who's the number one that Lucanis trusts ? Illario

So, Illario, what did you do ? How did you betray your cousin's trust ?

[backpackingspace]

Odysseus: demanding Athena take off whatever enchantment she put on him the second the situation ends.

Odysseus: who constantly reminds Athena that he has great plans to grow old and die with his wife so don't even think about getting any ideas.

Odysseus: side eye diomedes who has started fucking glowing he has so many enchantments on him: bro you should talk to Athena about getting those removed. You're going to end up immortal or some shit

Diomedes: who has been a solider since he was 5 who has intersting thoughts about his own personhood who has a much more traditional relationship with Athena and would rather literally stab his own eye out with a rusted sword than speak out of turn: I don't know what you're talking about

[bloomeng]

This is my official Batfam Magical Girl AU Masterpost (everyone clapped)

(Updated 4/16/25)

I’m going to do a brief overview and then go into more details for those interested.

Bruce being from old money (and apparently being connected to Camelot) inherited a mysterious mineral with unknown properties. In its raw form it’s very unassuming, but when cut like gemstones and added to accessories it can be harnessed into a tool. By altering the mineral into a wearable item it allows the magic within to be channeled. The magic of the mineral connects with its wielder to create an outfit and (typically) a weapon. These outfits do not grant the wearer special abilities outside of the transformation and the weapon, but when worn the wearer is granted (what is basically) hammerspace and a nearly impenetrable outfit. The uniform granted is not something they can alter the appearance of but will change gradually overtime to reflect how the wielder has grown.

This mineral will henceforth be known as Arcanium. It operates on Kryptonite logic in that it’s— allegedly— super rare but also shows up whenever the plot needs it. (I’m aware it shares a name with a card game, but I wanted my Kryptonite spoof)

Martha Wayne unknowingly started the cycle by turning— what she thought was a rare gemstone— into a brooch. She died shortly after having it made and Alfred held onto it in her memory. Like canon Bruce goes on his journey of self-exploration to train. When he comes back he enacts his plan the way he does in Batman: Year One, where he goes out in basically just make-up, and it goes poorly. He wanders his manor trying to formulate a strategy and is drawn to his parent’s room and finds his mother’s brooch. Cue the first magical girl transformation. From there he alters the brooch to fit his bat aesthetic and the Batman Brooch is born.

Dick comes into his life the same way as canon. Bruce takes him in as a ward, Dick tries to track down Zucco on his own, etc. Bruce decides to use the other raw sample of Arcanium to turn into a second magical artifact. He lets Dick pick the theme, and thus the Robin Pendant is born. The rest is history.

(Before I continue I want to warn that I’m making shit up as I go, so some of this is subject to change as I move forward.)

The Robin Pendant is passed down from Robin to Robin. Each Robin got their own unique look while using it. Following canon, Dick and Bruce have their falling out and Dick gives up the Robin Pendant in a moment of anger. In this au I think Dick, not having the pendant to fall back on, tries to lead a vigilante-free life, but of course falls back into it. During a fight he somehow manages to stumble across Arcanium in its raw form. Recognizing it he takes it with him. Like Nightwing: Year One he has his conversation with Superman and decides to become his own hero. Using his knowledge of Arcanium from his years with Bruce he creates his own magical artifact and becomes Nightwing.

This is a good place to interject that I’m not changing any of their hero names. I was asked about it a couple times due to the caption, “Red Bow & Sailor Nightwing” on my Dick and Jason designs. It was just a silly caption, because I didn’t want to simply state “Jason and Dick Magical Girl au.” But being serious, I don’t really see a reason to change their names, with the exception of maybe Red Hood, seeing as I didn’t give him a red hood. My au operates on Sailor Moon logic where despite the lack of masks no one recognizes them, and it’s just vaguely explained by magic. I think it would be funny if Bruce chose to wear a mask anyway because he’s that paranoid, but we’ll see when I actually design him. Anyway point is Red Hood is lacking a red hood, maybe he secretly has a red hood on his jacket or maybe he really does go by Red Bow, I’ll leave that up to interpretation.

Arcanium does not just accidentally appear. At the end of the day it’s still a mineral and it’s not sentient, but the magic has an element of “the wand chooses the user.” It’s not so much a “chosen one thing,” so much as the magic can sense intention. It doesn’t care about the morality of the user, the magic is more seeking a symbiotic connection. (Meaning yes rogues can in fact wield artifacts.) Simply put, it wants a host that will be able to wield it. In its raw form the magic is dormant but it seeks to be… not dormant, so when it finds those who actually have the potential to create an artifact and use it, it reveals itself. It was not a coincidence that Martha had the inclination to have the brooch made, it was not a coincidence that Bruce was drawn to his parent’s room, and it was not a coincidence that Dick found Arcanium in the alleyway.

Each of the Bats have their origin moments with their own magical artifacts. I don’t have the whole timeline down, but I will say there was a lot of drama between Tim and Damian, because Tim was forced to hand over the pendant. Even though he technically relinquished it, emotionally the connection wasn’t severed. No one was sure if the transition would work, but Arcanium responds to whoever needs it more and therefore who will use it more. Like canon, Tim is having an awful time during that era. On top of all of it he’s had his title stripped from him and he can’t even argue because if it wasn’t the right move the pendant wouldn’t have responded to Damian. Dick tries to comfort him by telling him that Arcanium will appear for him when he’s ready, but Tim is furious and impatient. So like a well-adjusted person he decides he’s going to engineer his own magical artifact artificially. It goes as well as his attempt to clone Kon does. It’s not until Tim starts to get back on his feet that Arcanium presents itself to him. My thinking is that while Arcanium finds its users when they need it most, Tim’s case is abnormal. His acquisition of the pendant was unconventional from the start since he showed up and demanded to take on the Robin role. Arcanium is drawn to individuals who will actually use its properties. Tim tends to rely more on his own detective work, which renders the pendant’s properties pretty moot. Especially when he’s going off the deep end, he becomes a hermit meaning a) he wouldn’t really need/use Arcanium’s properties and b) he inadvertently limited his own chances of stumbling across it “in the wild.”

In a similar vein I believe Barbara’s journey is abnormal in that she forged her own Batgirl artifact that operates a little differently than the others, seeing as she made it without Bruce’s influence. After the accident she shelved it, maybe she passed it down to Cass, but eventually she gets it back. She created the Oracle identity without it, and for a long time the Batgirl artifact is something she avoids using, until she gets the idea to combine it with her computer to create a magic computer… sort of. She gets a uniform that is basically connected to the computer.

Going back to Damian needing the Robin Pendant more, its reaction to his acquisition was unique. As I mentioned previously the suits typically provide a weapon, well Damian is the exception. Unlike all the other Robin’s Damian didn’t need more weapons in his life, what he needed was guidance. For the first time the pendant granted Damian a magical animal guardian, which is how he gets Alfred the Cat in this au. Despite being an animal lover Damian is extremely pissed at this development. He wanted dual swords or a scarier animal at least. He can’t formally communicate with Alfred the Cat but he understands him intrinsically, though Alfred the Cat seems to be able to understand human speech somewhat. Only Damian seems to be able to truly understand Alfred the Cat. (Cue the antics of his siblings trying to figure out what the cat means or trying to control him in any capacity.) Besides being an animal, Alfred the Cat is also unique in that he doesn’t dissipate when Damian isn’t in uniform the way that the weapons do. Like the weapons he can be summoned by the pendant, but he seems to have existed prior to the pendant’s creation. (I’m toying with the idea that while in uniform, the cat would also get some sort of uniform.)

Before I get into Duke and his abnormalities, I want to address the Speedsters in this au. It’ll make sense after.

So the Flash. I want to say I don’t know if I will get around to creating full designs for them. I do have plans for Bart and maybe Wally, but I have determined how I want their mechanics to operate in the context of the au. Not all the heroes in this au are “magical girls,” in fact I’ve made the executive decision that you have to be human to wield an artifact. Arcanium may have magic in it, but it doesn’t grant its user magical abilities beyond the uniform itself. The speedsters retain their canon origins, hit by lighting blah blah blah, only with one key difference: they had Arcanium on them when they were hit. Instead of engineering an artifact Arcanium fused with their bodies granting them powers. I want to keep the magic transformation aspect (because it’s not a magical girl au without it), so instead of using a physical artifact as a channel for their powers, it’s instead the act of transforming that serves as a gateway to their speed abilities.

To me it was always important to maintain Batman’s identity of not having super powers and having to rely on engineering, which is why the Batfam have to physically build their artifacts. In a similar way I wanted to retain the integrity of the Flash’s identity of being meta but also still human. Which brings me back to Duke. I know in canon that Duke inherited his abilities, but for the sake of the au I’ve decide that he either had an accident when he was young in which traces of Arcanium fused with him or his parents had it in them and he inherited it from them, but regardless it’s less potent, but operates similar to the Speedsters. For years he couldn’t fully transform or use his powers and it wasn’t until— with Bruce’s guidance— he was able to create an artifact that allowed him to channel his abilities and transform. Even though he is a meta I wanted him to still have some of those Batfam qualities in there.

But what about the Superfam? They’re not human so how do their transformations work? The answer is simple: They’re not “magical girls.” At least not real ones, they’re faking. They’re not human (Kon and Jon are technically half human but they still get their abilities from their Kryptonian DNA), and thus cannot forge a connection with Arcanium. Truthfully I’m about to get silly— even sillier than this au already is— but I have decided that Clark is a fake artifact wielder. I like the idea that Batman has been operating longer than Superman has, so when Clark decided to become a hero in his own right his only example of how to style himself was from the bat themed vigilante, who might as well be a cryptid, operating out of Gotham. Only blurry pictures of him existed, so Clark designed his outfit based on his Kryptonian origins and Batman’s aesthetics. He had no idea about the existence of Arcanium or how it worked. This is also why Kon’s design looks so much like his canon outfit with a few magical girl elements (and definitely not because I think the lines in his canon suit already lend themselves well to a magical girl aesthetic and didn’t want to change much). Later when he gets to know Batman more he learns about the transformations, to which he panics and invents his own transformation using Kryptonian tech (ex: MAWS’s transformation). For years Bruce goes crazy trying to figure out Arcanium’s effects on aliens and if it grants them abilities on top of the ones they’re born with, and if Clark has plans to use it as a weapon, and how he managed to forge the connection in the first place— Clark comes clean as a fake once they reveal their identities to each other.

Side tangent but I find it hilarious that Green Lanterns are— by technicality— already “magical girls,” considering they’re granted magical accessories that give them powers and transform their clothing. Hal is very clear with the JL that he is nothing like Batman and constantly feels the need to assert that he is not a magical artifact wielder. The non-human members of the team still lump them together anyway.

Things I haven’t figured out:

- what each of the batfam’s weapons are

- what each of the magical artifacts are

- what to refer to magical artifact wielders as

Stepping outside the canon(?) lore of the au for a minute, obviously I’m redesigning DC characters using inspiration from a genre, because that’s what “magical girl” is. It’s a genre. This is why I refer to it in quotes and don’t call them magical boys, because I am always referring to it as a genre, which isn’t a gendered thing. However, in universe they wouldn’t call themselves magical anything, the same way the characters of Sailor Moon don’t refer to themselves as magical girls, but rather Sailor Scouts. As of right now I’m sort of just referring to them as artifact wielders, but I feel like Bruce would come up with a better name. On a similar note, throughout this whole thing I’ve been referring to Arcanium in it’s wearable state as an artifact. I don’t know if that’s the best term, but I can’t think of anything better for the generalized form of Arcanium outside of it’s raw state. For now I guess it will be “artifacts” and “artifact wielders.”

- how the wonderfam fits into this

I really can’t think of a reason why Wonder Woman would be a “magical girl” in this au. She was born with abilities, she’s not human, and I can’t see her altering her uniform to match the aesthetic. A transformation would just be a waste of time for her. I could to see maybe Cassie or Donna wanting to match with their respective teams, and perhaps maybe that’s why they would alter their uniforms? All I know is I want see Tim, Kon, Bart and Cassie as a matching “magical girl set.”

Fin… for now.

[I’m just going to put this here preemptively, because I’ve gotten messages about turning my au into fics or tiktok skits. You’re free to use this lore HOWEVER you MUST credit me not just for the designs but for the creation of the lore. I’ve put a lot of time and thought into this and I love that people love it, so I just ask for recognition. If you want to make something that’s inspired by my designs or loosely based on my au, just a simple credit for the inspiration is fine. You’re free to change things this is just how my own au operates. Regardless I would prefer to be tagged so that people can find me but also because I’d love to see other’s work.]

Current designs:

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp #46

"I'm transferring you all to another branch to focus on your teamwork." Batman announced to the Young Justice League out of nowhere.

The news surprised the whole group. They've been together for quite sometime and had gotten alone just fine. Sure, they had disagreements here and there, but that wasn't enough for them to need more training, was it?

"We've been officially working together for a long time. Why do we need teamwork training now?" Robin asked, being brave enough to talk to the well feared vigilante that many were fearful to speak against.

Batman said nothing as he scrolled through the tablet in hand, obviously searching for something.

"Because you still have problems with your teamwork. You need the help of another team your age to get a better view point of what you're doing wrong. And hopefully you'll be able to learn about the different type of enemies

"Wait, wait, wait! Our age? You mean there's another team that we didn't know about?" Kid Flash asked, the news obviously being a surprise to him.

This news was a surprise to everyone in the group. All of them thought that they were the only young heroes that worked under the Justice League.

Finding what he was looking for, Batman opened a file and the team looked at the large photo that appeared on the screen. The photo contained four teens, just around their age if not older or younger.

One was a black teen with a red beanie, and Robin was surprised to see the bulky tech in his hands that he was using. What kind of outdated tech was this team using?

Next to him was a goth looking girl with raven black hair wearing a black short with a black and green plaid skirt. Her face was concentrated into a stern glare that gave Wally the shivers. The gun that she held in her hand didn't help either.

There was another girl as well. Her black hair down and resting against her shoulders. Said shoulders and the rest of her body covered by a black and red suit with a hoverboard against her feet and another strange weapon in her hand. A gun maybe? Red Arrow was curious to see her aim when moving on that board.

And the last kid wasn't standing. He was floating. With snow white hair and green eyes that seemed to glow everytime they looked at the photo. He looked to be around the same age as the other three, but he wore a black jumpsuit with white boots, gloves, and belt. On his belt rested a thermos? Superboy didn't see how such a scrawny thing could be of any threat.

One thing was similar was that how all of the humans eyes seemed to glow. Almost as bright as the- metas'? Aliens? -did.

"These are the members of Young Justice: Dark. They have been under the Leagues employment for three months, but they've been working on their own for almost two years and managed to stop several world ending disasters dealing with the supernatural."

The statement from Batman shocked the team. Them? On their own for two years fighting against the supernatural? Surely he was joking?!

"But-how? We've never heard of them, and they were world ending, we should've known about it." Robin argued.

"Because they've never left the threats leave their town." Came Batmans clipped reply. "There have been a few close calls, but all of them have been handled. As for why the League wasn't aware, there was interference that stopped the League from knowing about Amity Park. This is the team that took our place."

This was the team? Two years unsupervised against supernatural threats that they didn't know about and they still remained uncovered? Just how strong was this team?

"I'm assigning your next mission to work under them. For the time being they will be your superiors and you will follow their instructions if you come into contact with any enemy. Do not go against their orders or else it will be dire. With this, you will learn about threats stronger than you have faced and better yourselves as a team. Do not mess this up."

[oceantornadoo]

ch8 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: reader has some body insecurities and a small panic attack. also oral sex. not at the same time lmao

masterlist | next

In the hazy morning of the next day, John moves to get out of bed at his ungodly workout time. Instead of feigning sleep like usual, you grab his shoulder forcefully. He freezes, then turns to look at you as you prop yourself up on an elbow. “Stay.” You murmur, voice gravelly from sleep. “You sure?” He asks, but he’s already sinking back down into the mattress. You nod, then climb on top of him, your head in the crook of his neck like always. “Go back to bed, John.” And he does.

-

The thing is, John wasn’t supposed to marry her. She wasn’t Kyle’s first recommendation, nor second. He had recommended an oil heiress, which his Captain turned down. Next, an Irish mafia princess, also turned down. In fact, his Captain didn’t seem to want to be married at all. Which was fine, if this was a normal life where Kyle hadn’t been nicked off the streets after picking the pockets of a Price man and plopped into the office of John Price, a leader who needed sneaky men with audacity like Kyle. Now, Price was pushing 40 without heirs, and that needed to be solved quickly. The Riley sister was only offered as an offhand comment.

“Christ, sir, if y’re gonna be picky, might as well marry the Riley. Then we’ll have a real shitshow on our hands.” Instead of answering, John leaned back in his office chair and stroked his beard, like a villain from a movie. “She single?” If Kyle wasn’t better trained, his mouth would’ve dropped. But he was Head of Security for a reason, so all he did was hand his boss her file. 

Kyle didn’t like the Rileys - specifically, John MacTavish. The bastard was always trying to one up him, with new toys on the streets and the threat of bombs lurking around every corner. He knew MacTavish was close with Ghost’s sister, having seen the two giggle, thick as thieves, at galas and weddings. If he was a stupider man, he’dve sensed an affair, but he knew she wasn’t Tav’s type. It was a well-kept secret, but Kyle kept it as well as his own. There were some lines you didn’t cross, even in this business.

Price flipped through the file, frowning at the data before him. “Ghost has had these weapons all this time?” Kyle shakes his head, pointing to a graph in the report. “It only really started when he recruited MacTavish, ‘bout six years ago. An’ my sources tell me the sister’s got a mind f’r business.” Price hums thoughtfully. Kyle knows what, or who, he’s thinking about. Shepherd encroaching on their territory, supplied with weapons from American ex-pats. The streets smell of gunpowder, more and more skirmishes by the day. “Ghost’s tryin’ t’ get cleaner.” It wasn’t a question, but a fact. Kyle’s informants had made him aware of the Riley family trying to buy businesses, only to be turned away when they found out who they were owned by. Price’s businesses for Ghost’s money and weapons. “Might not be the worst trade, sir.” Kyle murmurs. He can’t believe he’s proposing a wedding where he’ll have to see MacTavish on the other side of the aisle. 

-

After said wedding, Kyle started regretting the whole thing. He knows what it is to love a man, to be in love with one, and that’s not what he has with his Captain. It’s more like seeing a big brother leave for college, knowing he’s nearby but out of reach. The plan was to have Mrs. X, as the security team had taken to calling Price’s future wife, live in a property an hour out of the city. Out of harm’s way but easy to visit when baby-making was required. The plan had been developed before they’d decided on a wife for him. It decidedly went out the window once he’d decided on Ms. Riley.

Suddenly she was in the Castle, changing decor and befriending staff. She was meeting with Laswell and had taken Terrance as her own, a change Kyle had not approved of. So, sure, he was a bit of a jerk to her. It was the childish notion that she’d taken his favorite person, and he’d lashed out, only to be reprimanded by said person. Kyle's in toddler timeout, and he's determined to make it right.

-

A few days after the Friday incident, he finds her eating lunch in the kitchen. It seems she’s finally befriended Chef, a feat he could never perform. Chef’s a French grandpa, huffing out syllables that don’t go together under his breath. 

“What’re ya eatin’?” An odd opening, seeing as this is their second conversation ever. He plops down into the chair next to her as she sets down her sandwich, brows furrowed in a question. He can’t blame his Captain; she is pretty. Not his usual type in women, but her wit would attract any man. “Um, a sandwich.” She eventually responds, after getting over the shock of Kyle in her kitchen chair. He probably could’ve been smoother on entry.

“Right, well…” He looks at her and she stares back, like they’re locked in a game. He breaks away first, feeling like he’s lost. Kyle reminds himself he’s not a bloody twelve-year-old. “I liked wha’ you did with the sittin’ room.” That opens her up, a hesitant smile growing on her face. “Really? Those chairs were so uncomfortable, I could barely sit on them for more than five minutes without getting sore.” He huffs in agreement. There’s a reason no one meets in the sitting room. “Ya sure tha’s no’ the only reason you’re sore?” It slips out too easy, a question he’d usually tease one of his men with, not his boss’s wife. Kyle opens his mouth to apologize but is cut off by the sound of her laughter. It’s not manufactured to sound pretty, almost like a snort. “Sorry, I just haven’t heard those kinds of jokes in a while. You remind me of Johnny. Thank you for making me laugh, Kyle.” She seems almost grateful for his presence, and it doesn’t take an idiot to see she’s missing her family. Even if that means getting compared to MacTavish.

“Call me Gaz, ‘s what everyone calls me.” She nods contentedly, reaching for her sandwich to take another bite. The silence is peaceful, interrupted when he remembers why he originally sought her out. Kyle pulls out a report he’s been carrying and sets it near her plate, noting how she sucks in a breath at the title. Protection Plan for Mrs. Price.

“Since y’r openin’ up y’r store, Price wanted me t’ give ya a team. Could’ve done it on my own but I had a feelin’ y’d want to give some input.” She nods thoughtfully, pushing her plate away to focus on the report. It’s a few minutes until she finishes it, diligently reading every page. “I want at least one woman on my team. And I still want freedom, I don’t want to be followed everywhere.” He sucks in a breath at her words, which won’t be possible if Price has anything to say about it.

“Righ’ well, can’t guarantee tha’ second part. Not sure if ya’ve noticed, but London’s an active war zone right now. They’ll be discreet, an’ the lowest amount I can do is four.” She harrumphs, crossing her arms like how his Captain does when he’s upset. It’s eerie how they’re already starting to mirror each other. “Fine, but I want Terrance on it.” Kyle nods, going to stand. 

“Gaz.” She grabs his forearm to get his attention. “I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but I’d like to be friends. If you’re willing.” He gives her a half smile, ruffling her hair. Kyle doesn’t notice how she freezes at his action, like she’s trapped in a memory. “Only if ya give me the rest of y’r sandwich.” Unfreezing, she laughs and pushes the plate towards him. “Don’t worry, there’s enough to go around.” He winks at her, and heads towards the security room. He might’ve accepted Terrance’s earlier security report, but he’s determined to make it up to his Captain, starting with re-running Phil’s background. Kyle’s got some security tricks up his sleeve, and he’s ready to prove his title to John.

-

The dress fits you like a glove.

It’s a fresh Saturday night, London’s night sky only slightly smoggy. John’s been invited to some benefit for cancer, a philanthropic cause you didn’t even know he supported. So now, you’re in a formal red dress, floor length with a high thigh slit. You stand in front of your vanity and smooth down the satin fabric, ready to slip on your heels. You usually do that step first, but they’re a mile high and you didn’t want to risk slipping on the carpeted dressing room floor. John’s been in the shower, but now he’s buttoning his shirt in the other room. Your dress is unzipped too, requiring a force of nature for the zip to go all the way to the top.

“John, can you help me?” He’s there in an instant, arms circling the length of your waist. “You look so fuckin’ good. Smell fuckin’ delicious.” He noses the crook of your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your perfume. John rubs his hands up and down, smoothing out creases in your dress. “So pretty f’ me, aren’t ya?” All you can do is nod when he’s like this, allowing yourself the precious gift of easy affection. “Can you help me with my heels?” He kisses your exposed collarbone, then squeezes your hip as he goes to find your heels. They’re higher than what you’re used to wearing, putting you closer to eye level with John. He goes to his knees, finding your right leg through the layers of fabric in his way. You got a pedicure the day before, patting yourself on the back as he kisses the top of your foot. “What’s gotten into you? It’s like you're under a spell or something.” He’s quiet as he slips on your shoe, kissing your ankle before setting it back down. John reaches for your other foot in quiet reverence. “Ya look like a princess.” He finally murmurs, having finished with your heels. “You feelin’ ok?” He asks. You shrug. Clearly, you haven’t hidden your nerves well. This is your first official entrance into mafia society as a couple, even if the lines of your relationship are too blurry for you to understand. 

“Let me make ya feel better?” His hands are already tracing your plush skin, parting the slit of your dress. He works his way up efficiently, stopping at the apex of your thighs. “What’s this?” You shrug again, this time with a smirk on your face. “It’s black tie, right?” By black tie, you mean the black lace under your dress. It’s a little piece you found at a boutique lingerie store near the bookstore. There’s a heart cutout in the middle of the front part, right above your slit. John kisses the exposed skin, sucking hard before he pulls away. “Black tie my fuckin’ arse.” You giggle and push your hips forward in a wanting motion. “Weren’t you going to make me feel better?” He goes to work with a single-minded vigor. John pushes the scrap of lace to the side, nearing closer so he can lift your leg onto his shoulder. He doesn’t tease you like usual. Instead, he licks and sucks lewdly, moaning at your wetness. He flicks his tongue against your clit as it hardens at his motions. “Even sweeter down ‘ere.” The low tone of his voice vibrates against your cunt, sending a spark to your core. “She like when I talk to ‘er?” He’s talking to your cunt, you think. It’s hard to hear over the rushing of blood in your ears. All you do is nod, pushing his head closer with your free hand as your other one scrambles for purchase against the wood of your vanity.

“Thought so. So wet, baby, like I’ve been neglectin’ ya. Have I?” You shake your head as he keeps up the pace of his tongue, adding a finger into your hole to up the pressure. “No, no, not neglected.” You cry from near-overstimulation. You can practically feel him smile against your pussy, the scratch of his beard making the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. “Thought so. Yer husband takes care of ya, tha’ righ’?” Your hips cant against his face, almost fucking it. “Yes, yes, John.” He sucks your clit hard, finger pumping in and out. “She’s so close I can fuckin’ taste it. Come for me, go’on.” And you do, pressure rushing out of your core in waves. “Good girl, baby. Knew you could do it.” He tugs your underwear back in place, cleaning up the cum on your thighs with his fingers. You hear him suck them clean, sending another shock to your core.

John stands, wiping his hands off on his slacks. He’s in a full tuxedo and wears a dashing red tie to compliment your dress. You quickly peck him on the lips and pull back before he can ruin your makeup. His beard pulls up in a half-smile, elated that you kissed him first. It’s not hard to tell he loves when you do that, returning his affection of your own volition. “Thank you, Mr. Price. You clean up well yourself.” You tug his tie playfully. “Now zip me up.”

He does it gracefully, fingers brushing your back as he inches the zipper up. You swear this dress is too small as you suck in more and more the higher he zips. Unfortunately, your husband has the power of turning any encouragement into sinful words whispered in your ear. “There we go, tight fit, love. Squeeze in, baby, tha’s a girl. Feel ok?” You can only nod, ribs heavily constrained. It reminds you of your wedding dress, except this time you chose to be trapped.

It’s a whirlwind of a drive as John helps you into the limo and helps you out only minutes later. The gala is at a nearby museum, but etiquette and uncomfortable footwear required you to drive. It’s a grand marble building, like a bigger version of John’s flat. Limos line the outside as people step out of cars dressed to the nines. You do have something to look forward to tonight - your family.

John guides you in with a hand to the back and you’re already escaping his grasp to search for Simon, who promised he was coming. Apparently, philanthropic foundations are great to donate to when you run a gang that needs some tax benefits. You’ve been to a few of these, but a glance at John’s upcoming calendar revealed he donates a lot more than your brother. A new routine to get used to. 

“On your left.” John murmurs, and sure enough, there’s the top of Simon’s blonde head. He’s Mr. Riley at these events, not Ghost. You hold yourself back from running. Instead, you gather your skirts and walk quickly towards him, ignoring how John’s hand slips from your back.

“Hi!” You don’t give Simon a chance to answer, smothering him in a hug. He picks you up at your waist and spins you, a remnant from your few shared childhood memories. “Hi, lovie. Look at you, all dressed up.” He sets you down gently. Simon’s hand brushes your left one, causing you both to glance at the ring on your hand. You catch a slight frown, but it disappears into the collage of scars on his face. “Doin’ ok?” He asks quietly, only at a volume you can hear. You glance back at John, who’s making small talk with Johnny as the two men stand nearby. You turn back to Simon with a small smile on your face, nodding shyly. “It’s goin’ ok.” He drags a hand down in his face in exasperation. “Christ, the way he looks at you, kid. Not somethin’ a brother should be seein’.” You groan, swatting his hand away. “Gross. You’re acting like I don’t have to constantly dodge you and Johnny making out.” You say it in present tense, like it’s a problem you’re still facing. Unperturbed, you grab his hand and make your way to the bar, leaving your dates behind. “C’mon, Si. Let’s catch up.”

-

You must’ve had black magic in that perfume of yours. It’s the only explanation for why John feels like this, like he can’t be untethered from you for more than a minute. He was worried this thing between you, new and delicate, was just lust, but it’s becoming clear it’s much more. It’s the way you immediately sought out your brother, not caring for social niceties. How you challenged him with your argument at the bookstore, fire in your eyes as you protected your livelihood. It’s all rolling into a grand, sticky mess in his heart, weighing heavier and heavier every day.

The gala is full of politicians milling against the backdrop of the London Art Museum. Paintings of old rich geezers surrounded by the bodies of new rich muppets. There’s some people dancing in a slow waltz in the middle of the room, with high tables bracketing the dance floor in a crude outline. He doesn’t think you’ve noticed any of this, content to abandon him high and dry in search of your brother. John exchanges niceties with Johnny MacTavish, then leaves him to find Kate. She’s around here somewhere, schmoozing with potential clients. She may work on retainer for John, but she’s an independent contractor in her own right, always on the lookout for the next big fish. 

He finds her eventually, talking to a MP far from the dance floor near a statue. “Lord Walsh.” John inclines his head at the man, who’s severely shorter than him with a significant bald spot. “Mr. Price. I’m surprised to see you here.” Jon frowns at the insinuation. Kate slowly inches towards John, looking polished in her navy pantsuit. “How so?” There’s danger laced in his words which Lord Walsh takes a few seconds too long to process. “I, well, excuse me.” He exits not-so-gracefully with sweat beads running down his receding hairline. John turns back to Kate, who’s wearing a rare smirk. “What?” She shakes her head, turning to face the crowd. “Sometimes I forget how much of a shark you are. Too used to seeing you surrounded by finery at home.” He snorts, turning with her. 

They both find his wife in the crowd, easy to spot with the shocking red of your dress. You’re throwing your head back in laughter at something Ghost said, giggling like a little kid. John feels a smile growing under his beard. Kate notices too, elbowing him in the side. “We get it, you’re disgustingly infatuated.” He shakes his head, dropping the smile. “‘S not like that.” She snorts, a rare show of emotion, a credit to how long they’ve worked together. “Whatever you say, John. Now let me find new clients before you scare them away.” He nudges her shoulder, content to stay alone as she walks away.

Unfortunately, his newfound solitude is immediately interrupted by a foul-smelling scent. He turns and lo and behold, there’s a phantom at his shoulder. “Lady Walsh.” John takes a step away from her, preventing their shoulders from brushing. “I saw you talking with my brother.” There’s a bite to her voice. It’s reminiscent of the one regrettable night they shared years ago, a night clouded with too much whiskey and not enough forethought. “Exchanging pleasantries.” He can hear her frown from a mile away. 

“Is there something you need?” He bites out when she doesn’t respond. Lady Walsh does this occasionally, finding him at events and trying for a recreation of that lone night. He didn’t consider it then, but he especially doesn’t consider it now. In fact, all he can do is track the sound of your laughter and drown in it, even across the dance floor. Lady Walsh leaves, and John decides to find the bar that you’ve abandoned and bring you a drink.

-

“I miss you, Si.” You mumble after your second martini. He’s found you two a table in the corner, somewhere you can hear each other over the quartet. “I do too, kid. Manchester’s different without ya.” You take a sip of his water, then spit it out when you realize it’s vodka. “Gross! Since when do you drink vodka?” He takes the glass out of your hand and downs it in one sip. “Johnny’s been on a kick. Think he’s been bored since ya left.” There’s immediate regret on his face as you take in his words. “No, love, ‘s not yer fault. There’s been other things happenin’. Nothin’s yer fault.” You nod, swallowing hard. “I think I’m gonna find the bathroom.” He nods worriedly. You push on the table to get up, but he stops you with a soft hand on your shoulder. Simon kisses your forehead, then shoves you towards the bathroom. “Don’t overthink. Go piss.” You snort, swatting his hand away.

In the bathroom, you stop in the mirror to apply your lipstick. A woman exits one of the stalls behind you, going to wash your hands. She’s like the image of your better self, with clearer skin and a figure you’d kill for. It’s the gin speaking, your brain reasons, but that doesn’t stave off any insecurities you’re projecting. Your heart is raw after your conversation with Simon, and this just makes it worse.

“You’re John’s new wife, right?” The mystery woman says as she finishes washing her hands. It shakes you out of your reverie. “Yes. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.” She purses her lips, now reapplying her blush. “Lady Walsh. I’m not surprised; I don’t think John would’ve mentioned me.” You frown at her insinuation. She takes your silence as acceptance, turning towards you with a feline smile on her lips. “I’m surprised you’re even walking. Lord knows it took me a week to recover from the last night I spent with John.” Your mouth drops. “Anyways, love your dress!” She breezes past you in a whirlwind of soap and perfume, leaving the bathroom gracefully.

You, however, exit in a fit of starts and stops. Your chest aches with the pain of breathing, reminiscent of the panic attack you had in a London garden almost two months ago. That thought makes things worse, blurring your vision. Someone grabs your arm, a warm presence guiding you to a bench in a darkened hallway.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” It’s John.

“No, I- I just need a second.” In the background, you hear people laugh and glasses tinkle. John places a warm hand over your knee, grounding you to the moment. “In an’ out, yeah?” You nod as your breathing slowly calms. It’s just you and him for a second, listening to the sounds of your breath go in and out. “Want some water?” He moves to get up, but you grab his arm before he can. “Stay with me?” You whisper. John sits back down, wrapping that same arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” He kisses the temple of your head, and you stiffen under his touch. The change is noticeable as the air goes cold. “Why haven’t we fucked?” It bursts out of you, almost in anger. John’s shock is clear as day as his arm drops from your waist. “I- why’re you askin’?” His hesitation is not what you wanted to hear. “I talked to your friend in the bathroom. Lady Walsh.” John groans, dragging his hand down his face. “Christ.” You wrap your arms around your waist at the sudden chill between you. John shrugs off his blazer and places it on your shoulders. The scent of it is overwhelming: musk and pine and man.

“She an’ I happened once, years ago. Been followin’ me like a hound ever since.” That makes you feel slightly better, but the conversation brought out a monster you didn’t want to face head-on. Your insecurities over this limbo of a marriage have been haunting you, and now they’ve taken the form of that woman in the bathroom. “You didn’t answer my question.” You murmur. John nudges your shoulder, moving closer when you don’t scoot away. “I didn’t want t’ pressure ya. Could eat ya out every night an’ be the happiest man on earth.” You bark out a laugh. He takes it as a sign to close the distance between you, tucking you under his arm. “What about the kids? The heirs?” You emphasize it with an eye roll. He snorts, pulling you closer. “Ever heard of artificial insemination? Surrogacy? A lot they can do these days.” He talks like he’s a hundred years old and not barely 38. “Why wasn’t that in the contract to begin with?” He’s quiet. “Not sure, actually.” 

“I don’t think I want to do anything sexual for a while.” You eventually whisper. “‘S fine.” John replies. “I want to go to dinner.” You turn to him with a small smile on your face. “Ya want to go’on a date, baby?” You nod. He frowns in that way when he’s upset that he didn’t think of it first. A realization dawns on his face when he understands what you’re asking for. A new start, free from this societal gossip and pressure. John kisses your forehead gently. “Tha’ okay?” You nod like a lovesick teenager, giddy with the thought that he understands you so well. “Dance with me?” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it.

-

“Graves. Report?” The General is half-cloaked in the darkness of his office, eyes glinting through the shadows. “Comin’ along well, sir. Price has given himself a new weakness right when we needed one.” Shepherd hums in agreement. “Don’t fuck this up, Graves. You’re on your last strike.” Phil nods, backing out of the room. He will not mess this up. He can’t afford to.

-

yayyy gaz redeemed himself and we have a plot! i was lowkey getting worried. i hope nothing bad happens...

-

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[thewritetofreespeech]

Tender Loving Care

pairing: Aemond x Reader

summary: after a training accident, Aemond's wife takes care of him. In more ways than one.

tags: heterosexual sex, cowgirl, massage, hand job, cum eating, cranky Aemond is a good boy for his wife, mentions of the other members of the Green but not present.

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

Training accidents were as common as breathing if one wanted to master the sword.

If one wanted to hold a blade, then one must also be prepared to suffer its bite. Aemond was well aware of this. Even though it was just training, play fighting for the knights & instructors brought in from all over Westeros to teach the prince, he had been cut before. Nothing serious. Nothing like his eye. He wishes it had been. It would make this latest injury less wounding than the others.

A simple misstep, that was all. His own clumsiness was what put him in this bed. His leg wasn’t broken or maimed, but twisted in his fall, to the point that he could put no weight on it. Or at least that was what the maesters said.

2 weeks. That was the punishment for his own mistake. He was not to leave this bed save to relieve himself and the few moments a day he was granted to stand & test his legs progress. Each day was a new torment. Not for the pain, Aemond could handle that, but the failure of trying his leg and only have it betray him again & again. He wondered how his father did it all those years trapped in his bed. Aemond would have begged for death sooner.

“Husband,” the prince looked up from his window and thoughts of limping over to throw himself out of it, when his wife’s voice came into the room.

One of his few constant visitors during his confinement. Helaena came to visit him but was busy with her children. Aegon only came once, to taunt him about his trip more than anything before he left and a back handed ‘get better Aemond the Fierce!’. His mother came as well but flapped between concern and scolding for his ‘recklessness’. She was the only one who seemed genuinely concerned for him, though her concern was not needed. Aemond did not wish to feel more like an invalid than he already did. “What is it?”

“It is time to change the bandage on her leg.” To keep it straight. To keep him bound, he thought with a spat, although Aemond arched a brow at the comment.

“Where is the maester?” His wife was many things, but she was no practitioner of medicine nor magic.

She sighed. “Did you really expect them to come back willingly after last time?” Aemond pursed his lips.

Under the best of circumstances, Aemond was aware that he was not the most agreeable person in the realm. Could anyone really blame him? His existence had taught him over & over that it was better to lash out and cut first, lest you be the one who is sliced. Metaphorically, of course. He wasn’t a mad man like some of his ancestors. And attached to this bed the only weapon at his disposal was his words. He had cursed, jeered, and ranted, honestly uncharacteristic of himself, at the maester who had attended to his leg the day before and had the nerve to tell him his progress was splendid. If it was so splendid then why was he still in this bed? If he was such a great man of knowledge and skill, why hadn’t he healed him yet?! He should go back to whatever dung heap he crawled out of and beg alms for to the gods for wasting a fine Citadel education on an incompetent!!

The prince said a few more unkind things before he forbade any of them from touching him again. He did not think they would take him seriously.

“So, they sent you to do the work of a common barrio healer since they do not wish to do their jobs?”

“I think it was more that they thought you wouldn’t scratch at me. More fool they then, hn?”

Aemond sunk further into his pillows, sulking. He doesn’t mean to scratch at her. He doesn’t mean to scratch at any of them, honestly. He just wanted to get out of his bed and go on with his life. To have the world move on around him, to grow weak and irrelevant in this bed, was the real punishment. “I’m sorry.” He apologized. “…thank you…for helping me…”

“You’re welcome Aemond.”

How quick she was to accept his apology. How quick she was to help him, already coming to his side despite his scratching, when he needed her. No wonder he was always alone….

The prince did what he could for her as he raised his leg from the pillow propping it up and held it there while she unwrapped the old dressing. “Are you sure you know what you are doing?” It was not meant as a slight. Just a genuine curiosity on if she knew the proper way to wrap his injury.

His wife just chuckled. “Yes, Aemond. Despite not wanting to come in here on their own, the maesters did instruct me on how to do it properly.” Cowards, he thought. “There! All done.”

Aemond looked at his leg with his good eye and tried to flex at his foot. His nostrils flared at the persistent pain, but it was wrapped correctly. He was impressed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I want you healed as soon as possible as well.” Her hand reached for his on the bed and clasped it. “In fact…I was told of another treatment….one that might help with the…circulation in your leg.”

“Oh?” Aemond was curious about that. Trapped in this bed, his legs were not getting the work out that they normally would. Training aside, the walk around the castle was enough exercise for most lords. He hadn’t been able to go more than a few steps for days. His legs teetered between weightlessness and the sharp pricks of falling asleep all the time. “Will it improve my condition?”

“It….could…” She seemed unconvinced. Avoiding, even. But perhaps that was because the last person who made remarks about the improvement of his condition was threatened to be fed to Vhagar. “Will you let me try it?”

What was there to lose, he thought, and Aemond nodded before he helped her take off his lower bed linens so both his legs were bare. A small vial appeared out from her pocket, and she poured some of its contents onto her hands before rubbing them together and placing them on his leg. “Just…try to relax for me.”

A hefty ask, but he does try. All he could do recently was ‘try to relax’. ‘Rest, my prince’, ‘you need time to heal’. It was all he had heard for the past days, to the point that any word close to ‘relax’ had almost the opposite effect on him. But for her, he does try. For her it worked a little. His shoulders finally untensing. Looking at her in the candlelight. Soft feelings swelling at the touch of her soft hands. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” He answered, almost without thinking. It did feel good. He didn’t realize how stiff his leg was until this moment.

Aemond let out a deep exhale. Not really a sigh, just the release of all the air in his lungs and tension built in his body. His eye closed as he laid back and let his wife work. They aren’t strong, but persistent. He continued to enjoy until he felt her hands shift up higher. Up his calf where his injury was to above his knee. “What are you doing?”

“What??” Her shocked face was particularly adorable in the soft light. Wide, wild eyes. Body frozen save for a soft tremble in her shoulders. “I..I’m rubbing your leg. I told you.”

“My injury is not there though.” He told her logically. Gaze still fixed on her for any kind of reveal.

“I…I know…” Her hands shift to seem to want to move away from him, but she willed them to stay still. “I just thought…maybe there was some other tension I could help you with….”

It was Aemond’s turn to be shocked, but he doesn’t show it on his face like she does. His wife was a lady. A demure, kind, noble one at that. Though she wasn’t nearly as boring & cow eyed as the other noble ladies on offer to him at the time of his betrothal, or so Aemond assumed as he didn’t pay much attention to any of them, boldness like this was not heard of in their marriage. She never denied him. Seemed fond of when they were together; or at least made all the right noises like she did. But it was always he who initiated such acts in their bedroom. To see her offer, and on offer, as he finally took in her appearance and the thin robe she had come to him in, Aemond would not deny that it was quite arousing.

Without another word, Aemond parted his legs further to give her room. If this was her intention, he would not deny her. There was a flush on her cheeks that bleed down her neck towards the V of her robe when he did this. Her resolve seeming to waiver, and disappointment started to drip into his chest at the prospect he may have ruined this too with his terrible attitude, but she continued.

The prince sighed. Gladdened to feel her hands on him again and closed his eye with a newfound desire for his treatment, now that he knew what was going on. “Higher.”

“Here?”

Her coquettish tone was a tonic to his ears. She was enjoying this. She was enjoying touching him and playing with him. His cock jumped as it filled fuller. More aroused by the fact that his wife truly did want him than her hands close, but not close enough, to his member. “Higher.”

“Here?”

Aemond opened his eye and genuinely growled at his wife. Though this game was amusing, enticing, it had been days since he’d found release. Being stuck in this bed did not really spur a person on towards desire. And though she laid with him at night like a good wife she had been spared from her ‘wifely duties’ for some time as Aemond was either still in too much pain from his leg, or unable to move it to perform the act, or in too bad of a mood to make the effort. Having her close. Feeling her touch. It was like the flood gates opened on a dam he had long since locked up and threw away the key on. “Please….”

His kind, noble, demure wife took pity on him, and also took his cock in her hand. Aemond’s head tilted back as he moaned. Her soft hands stroking his member from under his night shirt slowly, deliberately. She had touched him before, so she knew how he liked it, but honestly she could have touched him anyway she liked. Like a clumsy novice that first night they were together, and he still would have melted in her hands.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes.” Again, without thought. But headier this time. More needy. He opened his eye to look upon his wife and found her staring at him. Those bright eyes darkened with desire. He’d never seen it before; mostly because when they were together her face was either buried in his chest, or shoulder, or in the pillows. Aemond bit his bottom lip hard. Trying not to cum at just the sight of her.

“It’s ok.” She told him in a whisper. Like it was a secret between the two of them. “You can let go husband. Will you let go for me?”

It was the softest command that Aemond had ever heard, and yet it forced him to obey more than any other. His back pressed further back into the pillows as his head tilted back again. His cock spasming in her hand as his seed leapt out from the tip. Covering her hand and perhaps getting some on her pretty robe by her knee. He would have to get her another one.

He opened his eye again after coming down from his high. Just in time to see her lick his seed off the palm of her hand. “What are you doing?”

“Well, the royal seed is sacred, is it not?” Her grin was soft, but mischievous. “We should not waste it.”

Aemond’s hand darted out to grab hold of her arm and drag her down to him in a deep, needy kiss. Apparently the flood gates he thought were released earlier were in truth just a leak in the levees. This was when the dam broke now. The need he had for her burning so hot that he could almost taste blood at the back of his tongue, his blood was boiling so hot.

He tried to spread his legs wider to make more room for his wife, but when he moved, he was reminded (painfully) of his injury. “Damnit!” The prince hissed against his wife’s lips. The throbbing in his leg almost in tandem with his cock.

“Sssh…it’s ok Aemond.” He wanted to bite at her soft words.

It was not ok! None of this was ok! He was injured, in pain, stuck in this bed, and now he couldn’t even fuck his wife! He felt useless. He felt angry. He felt humiliated not being able to do things as a man should, and he just wanted to get back to normal!

Before he could tell her any of this, however, his wife pulled back and removed her robe from her body. Mesmerizing in the fire light. No Valyrian alabaster, but still just as dazzling to Aemond. Shift discarded, his wife raised her hips and inched closer to hover them over his own. “The maester said not to move unless absolutely necessarily.” He wanted to argue that laying with his wife was absolutely necessarily, particularly in this moment, but all his words left him on a moan as she lowered herself onto him. “So you just stay there. L-Let me take care of you.” The little stammer in her voice as she started rolling her hips almost sent Aemond into a frenzy, but he endured.

He genuinely couldn’t move with her on top of him like this and his position on the bed. Though why would be want to? For the first time since his accident, Aemond was actually ecstatic to be stuck here in this bed. His wife lovingly impaling herself on his member. Riding him with skill just short of a dragon rider. If he had the wits still about him, he would have chuckled at his own joke. ‘Dragon rider’. As it was though he was stupid with lust. Dumb, witless, helpless at her mercy as she took from him everything and gave him back so much. He still had brains at least to return the favor.

His wife cried out when he reached up to cup her breast. The weight of them in his hands something he missed. Aemond does not get a lot of time to enjoy them, however, as his wife suddenly fell forward. Covering his body with her own. Hips still moving but at a much snappier pace with the depleted gap between them. He didn’t care though. His hands just repositioned themselves on her other mounds at her backside and pressed her to move faster.

“A-Aemond!” Her cries were his music. The tempo in which he set a new rhythm.

The wet sound of their sexes kissing along with their actual kissing fill the room, until it all stopped in one bright, shining moment of his wife shaking on top of him while her fists tried to fight his pillows and he spilled inside her this time.

He wished he could hold her like this for longer. Her weight a comfort, like a blanket, in his arms. But she rolled over onto his non-injured side to lay beside him. It was good enough. “Do you feel better now?”

Aemond looked down at her, having to turn his head completely as to not just look at her with the sapphire in his eye, realizing at last what this was about. Her idea of a good will effort. To lift his spirits and relieve his tension. Maybe keep him from trying to execute more of the maesters in the castle. “Yes. I’m feeling better.”

She smiled, then placed a soft kiss on his shoulder. “Good.”

The fingers from the hand around her own shoulders played with her hair as he stared at the ceiling. “Was this all just for me though?”

His wife looked at him with a perplexed look, but then realized what he was asking and blushed. She was smart enough to figure it out. “Not…all of it. I did want you to be in better spirits but…I have missed you.”

The corner of Aemond’s lips ticked up. Pleased, and pleased with himself. He did not think his sexual prowess was worth much compared to his prowess with a sword or strategy. But to hear that his wife wanted him, truly wanted him, was all the praise he would ever need. “So, you came up with this idea to satisfy both of us, ābrazyrys.”

“It wasn’t….all my idea…” Aemond arched a brow at his wife’s words. Curious now where she had got the idea from, as it had clearly come from somewhere. “Aegon commented on your bad mood and how someone should ‘cheer you up’. He gave me the idea, but the rest of it was all my doing.”

Aemond wasn’t sure which comment he was more shocked about. The fact that his brother knew how he was faring in his recovery, or the fact that he made lewd comments to his wife. He was battering between feelings of an odd sense of touched and white hot furry, but he decided to just let it go for now and enjoy his wife. “Well, thank you, regardless. In future I will try not to scratch at you while I am still confined to this bed. Lest you ask.”

She giggled when he kissed the top of her forehead. “And the maesters?”

“They are on their own.” Idiots. “I make no promises on their safety, but I will…endeavor to be of better character in the future.” At least not threaten to feed them to Vhagar. That seemed a reasonable adjustment.

[dat1angel]

DP x DC Prompt

Demon Twin AU

Growing up in the League of Assassins, Damian and Danyal were aware of the possibility of encountering clones of themselves or each other. They even encountered a few League made clones during training so that they could learn how to identify and take down these threats if an enemy ever tried to use them. The solution they came up with was a series of codes. Simple phrases and gestures that would seem innocuous to anyone else but would tell them that the person standing beside them was, infact, who they claimed they were. They never let anyone know what these codes were either, so that the clones couldn't have knowledge of the codes artificially implanted. If there was any concern of a code being cracked they stopped using it. The system worked perfectly. Then Danyal died.

Damian didn't need a code to tell him that he would never fight side by side with his brother again.

Damian never forgot about the codes though. So when the League started sending clones of himself to infiltrate his family, he told them about this method and created new codes for them to use to tell if it was really him. He never reused the codes he made with Danyal, those were theirs no matter the fact that nobody would ever do them back.

Danny knew he was adopted. He knew that the Fentons had found him while on a ghost hunt and that he was in incredibly bad shape when they did. They had tried to find his parents, but when they were unsuccessful they decided they couldn't leave him alone and took him home with them. He didn't remember anything before that and while he always wondered what had happened, why he was all alone and injured with no family to be found, he was happy with the Fentons. He knew that he had two adopted parents and a sister who loved him and decided that he didn't care about whatever came before that. Then Danny died.

Well- half died, and doing so returned all the memories that were locked away by his amnesia. He remembered the League of Assassins and the mission that went wrong leaving him presumed dead and his twin. He was no idiot, he recognized his twin no matter what traffic light costume he wore, so he immediately realized that Damian had become Robin and that Batman must be their father. He wanted to go find them, tell Damian that he was alive, but with all the ghost craziness that ensued following the portal opening, as well as learning to control his new ghost powers, he just didn't have time.

The opportunity presented itself one day when he was ambushed by the GIW. They caught him off guard and managed to get some critical shots on him. He fled to a secluded alley to assess his wounds and make a plan but didn't account for the Fentons to have caught sight of the interaction and have followed him. Danny decided to enter his human form and try to sneak around the GIW agents crawling the town until he got home, then lay low until he figured something out. The Fentons entered the alley right as he transformed. They were shocked, but were willing to listen to his explanation before resorting to weapons. They were horrified by what they learned and reassured Danny that they would never have hunted him if they knew.

Before they could discuss it further, they were interrupted by the sounds of GIW agents closing in on their location. The Fentons told Danny to run, to find somewhere safe. Said that they would work on de-establishing the GIW from the inside out and repealing the Anti Ecto Acts and would find him again when it was safe. With the promise that they would keep everyone safe, Danny gave the Fentons a quick hug, transformed, and took flight. All he had to do now was make the trip to Gotham and find his brother.

Damian was in disbelief. How cruel of Mother, how desperate she must be, to resort to this. Sending a clone claiming to be Danyal? That he had survived and was now seeking asylum? He would make her regret toying with him like this. But first, he must put this clone business to rest. How simple it is to prove this deceit.

Damian clenched his right hand into a fist. Once, twice, pause for a second, a third time. To anyone else it would look like an anxious tic or an expression of anger but to Danyal it would elicit a certain response. The clone's eyes widened at the gesture, then a soft look came over their face. They lifted their right hand to rub at the back of their neck, then brought it up their head to ruffle their hair twice before finally letting it drop to the side. Damian was in disbelief for a different reason now. There was no way- It couldn't be. The boy across from him then raised their left hand to their mouth, cleared their throat, then patted their chest twice. With shaky hands, Damian sneezed into his left elbow then rubbed his nose three times. Damian was unable to keep the emotion out of his voice when he finally spoke.

"Brother."

[xichilie]

Mydei x (fem)reader

Readers Birthday 🎂

Mydei wasn’t sure when it started—this constant awareness of her.

He’d always been protective of Y/N, always found himself drawn to her presence, but lately, it had turned into something else. A restlessness. A need to be closer.

And now, with her birthday coming up, that feeling had only intensified.

The problem?

He had no idea what to give her.

Birthdays weren’t a big thing in Kremnos. They didn’t celebrate the day someone was born—only the legacy they built. Warriors were honored for victories, for battles fought and won, for their strength and skills. Not for simply existing.

But Y/N wasn’t Kremnoan. She was from Okhema. And here, birthdays mattered.

Which meant he had to get her something.

Something worthy of her.

Mydei sat at the training grounds, absently sharpening his blade as his thoughts spiraled.

Armor? No, that felt more like a duty than a gift.

Something practical, then? She liked practical things.

But what?

In Kremnos Weapons and strength are everything...

“You look like your brain is overheating.”

Mydei didn’t have to look up to know who it was.

Phainon plopped down beside him, blue eyes far too amused.

“Go away.”

Phainon ignored that. “You’ve been acting weird lately,” he mused, resting his chin on his hand. “Especially today. Thinking about something?”

Mydei grunted. “No.”

Phainon smirked. “Uh-huh. Let me guess—it’s about Y/N.”

Mydei stiffened.

Phainon’s smirk widened. “Thought so.”

“Mind your business,” Mydei muttered, focusing harder on his blade.

“Oh, but this is very much my business,” Phainon said, stretching. “It’s entertaining. Watching you, of all people, get all worked up over a gift.”

“I’m not worked up.”

“You’re overthinking.”

“I am not—”

“Just ask her what she wants.”

Mydei glared at him. “That defeats the purpose.”

Phainon held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Keep struggling, then.” He stood, patting Mydei’s shoulder. “Can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

And with that, he strolled away, leaving Mydei even more annoyed than before.

By the next morning, Mydei had convinced himself that a sword was still the best option.

It was practical. It was strong. And it was something that would last.

So, he went to the best blacksmith in Okhēma, commissioned a custom blade, and waited.

But when he picked it up later that day…

Something felt off.

It was a fine weapon. Perfectly balanced, expertly crafted. It even had an engraving of her initials, just like his own sword bore his.

But as he held it, something in his gut told him—

This isn’t right.

It wasn’t that Y/N wouldn’t like it.

It was that she deserved more.

And that thought bothered him more than it should have.

“What about something personal?”

Phainon’s voice cut through Mydei’s thoughts.

They were sparring—well, Mydei was sparring, and Phainon was mostly talking.

“A sword is nice and all,” Phainon continued, sidestepping a strike, “but she already has plenty. And gifts should be meaningful.”

Mydei scowled, blocking his counterattack. “Weapons are meaningful.”

“To you,” Phainon corrected, twirling away. “But what about her?”

Mydei hesitated.

And that’s when it hit him.

He’d been thinking about what he would give as a warrior.

But not as himself.

Not as the man who knew Y/N better than most. Who trained with her, fought beside her, watched her laugh, listened to her ramble about things he didn’t always understand but still paid attention to.

He needed to give her something that wasn’t just practical.

Something that meant something to them.

And suddenly—

He knew exactly what to do.

Phainon raised a brow at the look on Mydei’s face.

“Finally figured it out?”

Mydei smirked.

“Yeah.”

He stayed up late, making sure everything was perfect.

It wasn’t extravagant. It wasn’t overly complicated.

But it was his.

And hers.

And when the morning came, and it was finally her birthday—

He knew, without a doubt, that he’d made the right choice.

The scent of warm vanilla, cinnamon, and caramelized sugar filled the air, blending into something sweet and familiar.

The kitchen was immaculate, every tool in its proper place, every ingredient meticulously measured.

This wasn’t just any cake. This was for Y/N.

Mydei worked with the same focused intensity he did when training. But this—baking—was an entirely different kind of battle. It wasn’t about brute strength. It was about precision, patience, and control.

And control was something Mydei had mastered.

He sifted the flour with practiced ease, the fine powder dusting his fingers as he combined it with butter, sugar, and eggs. The motion was so natural to him now, each step embedded in his muscle memory.

Unlike a battlefield, where unpredictability reigned, baking was exact. He followed the measurements, adjusted when necessary, and in the end, the result was something he could shape into perfection.

And today, perfection was the only option.

Because it was for her.

He had spent days planning this. Finding the best ingredients, testing recipes to make sure everything was flawless. He had even gone out of his way to ensure he got the right kind of chocolate she liked, even if it meant having to barter with an old vendor who only sold it in small batches.

Now, the cake was in the oven, rising beautifully, filling the air with its rich, golden aroma.

It smelled perfect.

While waiting, he turned to the other treats he had prepared.

A variety of pastries, neatly arranged, each one chosen specifically because he knew she liked them. He had learned what she liked over time—watching, observing, taking mental notes every time she reached for a certain kind of sweet.

He wouldn’t have done this for just anyone.

But for Y/N?

She was different.

The timer went off, pulling him from his thoughts. He slipped on heat-resistant gloves and carefully pulled out the cake, its golden surface soft and perfect.

There was no hesitation as he set it down, letting it cool before moving on to the finishing touches.

A delicate glaze, smooth frosting, and intricate decorations placed with precise care.

By the time he finished, the cake was nothing short of a masterpiece.

The table was set. The pastries plated. And beside them, a neatly wrapped gift.

Now, all that was left was for her to arrive.

Meanwhile…

Something was definitely going on.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Phainon, who was suspiciously energetic today.

“Okay, Phainon. Spill.”

Phainon blinked at her, the very picture of innocence.

“Spill what?” he asked.

Y/N crossed her arms. “You never just ask me to ‘take a walk’ with you. Ever.”

Phainon placed a hand over his chest, looking dramatically offended.

“Wow. You really think so little of me?”

“Yes.”

“That hurts, Y/N. Truly.”

She deadpanned. “Phainon.”

Phainon sighed, clearly amused.

“Alright, alright. Maybe I am stalling,” he admitted, walking ahead of her. “But trust me, it’s for a good reason.”

Y/N raised a brow. “What kind of reason?”

Phainon only smirked. “You’ll see.”

She frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

“It is if you stop asking questions.”

Y/N groaned, but reluctantly followed him.

Whatever he was up to, she had a feeling it involved a certain golden-eyed prince.

By the time Phainon finally led her back, Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected.

But this?

This was beyond anything she could have imagined.

The moment she stepped into the room, the scent of freshly baked pastries and warm vanilla wrapped around her like a comforting embrace.

And in the center of the room, there it was.

A beautifully set-up table.

A cake, decorated with meticulous detail.

A plate of her favorite pastries.

And next to them…

A carefully wrapped gift.

Her breath hitched.

“Mydei…?”

He stood beside the table, arms crossed, his expression calm and composed— but she noticed the faint pink dusting his ears.

“Happy birthday,” he said simply.

Y/N blinked.

Slowly, she turned to Phainon.

“You were keeping me busy so he could set this up.”

Phainon grinned. “Guilty.”

She turned back to Mydei.

“You did all this?”

He shrugged, looking off to the side. “It’s not that hard.”

Her heart swelled.

It wasn’t just the cake.

It was the effort. The time he put into this. The way he remembered the small details—her favorite flavors, the kind of pastries she liked, even the fact that she never made a big deal about her birthday.

He did all this for her.

Before she could stop herself, she took a step forward—then another—until she was close enough to wrap her arms around him.

A warm, tight embrace.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

She felt him stiffen slightly, clearly caught off guard.

But after a second, he relaxed.

“…You’re welcome,” he said softly.

Her arms lingered around him before she finally pulled away, smiling.

Phainon was watching with far too much amusement.

She turned toward phainon and thanked him as well.

Mydei picked up the gift and handed it to her.

She unwrapped it carefully, fingers moving with curiosity.

And when she finally revealed what was inside—

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was a necklace.

Sleek, beautifully crafted, with a design that was unmistakably personal.

It wasn’t just any necklace.

It was made for her.

She turned to him, eyes wide. “You… designed this?”

He nodded. “Had it commissioned. Took some time.”

Y/N traced the engravings carefully, touched beyond words.

Then, without thinking, she turned back to him—

—and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Mydei froze.

For the first time, he had no words.

And when she pulled away, she grinned.

“Best birthday ever,” she whispered.

Phainon, in the background, was already taking pictures.

_______________________________________

Since it's my birthday today, I figured why not write some birthday fics ♡

Can't wait to pull mydei ♡

[sideysvault]

.𖥔˚ NEW SURROUNDINGS.𖥔˚

Cregan Stark x fem!targaryen!reader ₊ requested ₊

Tags. [sfw]; Arranged marriage, ‘cultural’ differences, misogyny, fluff, happy ending, dragonrider, weaponized fasting.

Wc. 0.8k

────────

Everyone had heard such stories. It was known that unsuspecting, kinder houses produced girls that despite aristocratic breeding, their innocence and ill preparation made them feel totally at sea in the deferential hierarchy of political marriage. 

The Targaryen Princess was nothing more than a child at the horizon of puberty, with something more akin to distaste rather than horror when she first bled. And while she’d been aware of what that meant for a woman, she desperately became aware of the danger this might put her in. There were many tears in those first months and many more to come after that. 

Weight simply dropped off, as well as her white hair. Plagued with the knowledge that outside the Targaryen's protective niche, she was determined to a less glorious fate than she had imagined when she had become a dragon rider.

And then came the preparations. In fact, it was her late cousin’s advice that helped her successfully avoid getting married in its entirety. At least for a few years. The technique was rather simple; If the Princess would get word that her husband to be was ill-mannered, brutish, stubborn or violent, the woman, in order to guarantee compliance, or to avoid the marriage, was to initiate a fast until a change of circumstances arrived. Not as a form of self mutilation, but as a means to stop the fertile blood from running between their legs, This, naturally, would only be successful as long as a male heir wasn’t yet produced, or if the princess isn't yet married.

She had even heard stories that certain houses even encouraged this behavior. All to guarantee that the husband was willing to listen to the whispers of his wife, assuring the will of her lineage.  

This technique, of course, had severe downsides, if taken too far, the body would stop tolerating food, making the wife immobile, dead, or worse; Infertile. 

However, some people denounced the practice entirely. Those who are keen to self-sacrifice for the political and economical greatness of their lineage, who saw conceiving themselves to a life of child bearing as a form of honorous martyrdom. Like her mother. 

But, when her family let her know that she was to be betrothed to Cregan Stark, she knew that all of her efforts were not in vain. His reputation preceded him. Handsome, honorable and just. 

She truly felt a sense of genuine relief. Neither the backwards ways of the Northerners nor their reluctance to respect people from the South could dissipate her enthusiasm. Despite her best efforts, The Reed Keep was never really a home to her.

The Princess, of course, had failed to foresee one important detail. The people of the North felt a genuine aversion towards her dragon, probably one of the few kind, loyal things to have been gifted to her by the Targaryen lineage, it had become somewhat of a family to her. While she was aware of the strong, devastating power Maegor possessed, all her soul saw whenever she interacted with it was all those magnificent flights, all of those years of training, and the rather small, innocent look her dragon had when it was young.

All they saw, nonetheless, was an extraordinary beast covered in scales and spines, the horns that framed the edges of Maegor’s face, running along the back of that skull that had never truly seemed to stop growing. It filled them with pagan horror. 

From common folk, who were rendered immobile by its appalling black profile dancing through the skies, children and adult alike screaming and gasping, to the highest members of the council, whose clenched jaws and tight fists were evident despite their best efforts to hide them. -Although, she supposed their terror had something to do with its rider, a foreign invader - 

Dear Gods, even her husband flinched around it. Of course, he had graciously tried to compartmentalize his fear as soon as he saw the way his wife's eye brighten when she hoped onto the riding chair and looked at the sky above them, how excited she seemed to the prospect of sharing that experience with him, how terribly tender she was with Maegor and the sweet offer she had made to the Maestres to help them map out the territory for their cartography efforts. 

It hadn't taken as much time as he had thought to become pleased with her presence. While Cregan was weary of her at first, he noticed how hard she was trying to accommodate to the region's costumes, how quick her wit was, how curious she was about the world.

Once he discovered how charmed he was with her personality, he was quick to notice how beautiful she was as well. Targaryen features had always seemed too alien to him. But on his wife? He adored the lavender haze in her eyes and the moonlit hair.

The Princess always laughed when she thought about it. She had found warmth and comfort in the coldest corner of the entirety of the Seven Realms.

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Notes. I've been pretty offline for some time but here is the request! Hope everyone likes it. As usual, take care, and tell me if you wanna be added to the Cregan fanfic taglist! -Sidey x

CreganTaglist. @damnedamsy @prose-before-hoes-blog

[anxi04]

Tim meeting Lex at a gala when he’s young. and becoming gossip besties with him

i finally wrote it after it infesting my brain enjoy

——————-

Tim thought the gala was going to be like most of the others, boring, annoying, nothing happening. And then he saw Lex Luthor. And he's a smart man, probably the only other smart person in here so why not start a conversation?

Lex thought this gala was going to be boring and a waste of time. And then this small child comes up to him talking about gossip that he didn't even know? And mentioning his incredibly secret cloning project he just started a week ago? He's going to be a villain and Lex wants to be on his good side.

————————

Tim sighed, annoyed. Gala's have always been incredibly boring, the only slightly fun things that happen at them have been either Bruce Wayne "tripping" over something and drenching someone else with whatever drink or liquid is near, or overhearing gossip, such as Robert Dewitt cheating on his wife with his brother. That was a fun day.

This gala is looking to be about the same as always, just even more boring. Bruce Wayne isn't attending (understandable, The Joker just broke out of Arkham again. He's sure there's a cover story for why Bruce isn't here but he doesn't care about that), no one is drawing attention to any scandals yet, or at least not in his ear range.

The only vaguely interesting thing here is Lex Luthor actually attending it for once. The man usually never spares a moment for anything aside from Metropolis (disgusting) and Superman. So there's at least one other smart person here but he also happens to be a super-villain (not that the general public knows) so… Not like Tim can just walk up to him and talk right?

"So as I was saying it really is quite unfortunate that your son won't take the company, I always thought he was a rather charming young man-" Fuck it Tim's gonna go talk to the super-villain.

"Have you heard about Rebecca Strawling?" Tim asks Lex, who absolutely did NOT jump at this child sneaking up behind him (seriously how did he do that? Even Superman, a man who constantly floats, can't sneak up on him.). Lex blinks for a second because, yes he had and holy shit what a thing that is, and also how does this child know? Also why is this child talking to him?

"That… Depends. What have you heard?" Lex says hesitantly. Despite Rebecca's… everything, she still hid it incredibly well. If Lex wasn't so bored at these gala's he would never have known, so either this child is just incredibly nosy, or possibly an actual smart person in this room. Either option would prove far more interesting than what he had been doing.

"Well I've heard about the several affairs she's had with everyone she claims to hate. Business rivals, the poor, queer people, her husband's family, and if it's to be believed her own family." And… Holy fuck, Lex had not been aware of that last bit. He raises an eyebrow at the ending which prompts a slight grin from the child as he takes his phone out. "I have evidence."

Does Lex actually… Enjoy being near a kid barely in the double digits? Absurd.

"You know Tim, that man over there? He's almost bankrupting his company and family by sending their money to a 'client.' I believe all his business partners are looking for someone to replace his spot." It's been an hour and a half. This is the most entertained Lex has been at one of these in decades. If Tim finds himself following the black hair, blue eyes orphan trend Lex will take him in himself so help him God. He's insanely smart, not only is he excellent at reading people and finding dirt on them easily, he's incredibly skilled at hacking without any proper training on it. This is a villain in the making and Lex will not let himself fall on his bad side.

"Now, I have a moral question for you Tim. What do you think the ethics on making a weapon out of a clone would be?" He's been toying with the idea of cloning Superman lately, however the actual… Making it a weapon has been bothering him. If it comes out an adult man it could easily decide it wants to do something else and rebel, however what would the effects be on making a child weapon that was created for that sole purpose? The effectiveness of it?

"Easy. Don't make the clone a weapon. It's either an adult clone who could choose to be a soldier, and actually listen to you, or decide it won't listen and possibly end up exposing you. If it's a child clone then sure you get a weapon for a few years but not having a choice would end up making them resent you. Give them a choice on it, just like the Sidekicks, like Robin, Kid Flash, Speedy, all them. I'd assume you would want a meta clone anyway and most meta's feel a sense of duty with their abilities so it'd be likely for them to decide something along what you want. Just a matter on if they like you and go with you, or turn to the other side." Tim answers without missing a beat and wow what a concerning sentence that would be to hear from a child if he were anyone else. As it is he's delighted by the response.

"Although cloning a Kryptonian would probably alter it, simply wouldn't get enough material so you would likely have to substitute some of the material for human and at that point use your own and raise the clone as a child." What. That's far too specific. "Oh, sorry I probably should've kept it more broad. Anyway you should update your security systems." Definitely a super-villain in the making. One that he very much wants to be on the good side of. On that note now he needs to update his whole system.

"Ah, Tim I'm glad you picked up. I'm a father now! I'd like you to meet my son, his name is Kon-El-"

"Oh, I've already met him. You actually interrupted our call. Kinda late on telling me." Of course.

"You know I could adopt you as well, get you from that bumbling buffoon that is Wayne."

"Yeah but then my crush would become incestuous." His what? Know what he can work with this. Tim is joining his family one way or another.

Finally. A moment of peace for Lex to sit down, drink some coffee, and watch a rerun of his favorite show. "Luthor!" Oh great, the boy scout here to ruin his plans. Oh and is that his group for comic-con? There's the man of steel himself, Wonder Woman, Batman and… Wait. Oh this will piss Kal-El off to be ignored.

"Timothy! I was just about to call you. You remember Robert Dewitt, correct? You'll never guess what he's done now." Lex grins, standing up. He was meaning to update Tim on this particular… Creature. He's one of their favorites to catch up on, purely because of the absurdity of his debauchery. Although this time does have a reason, after all there's reason for dear old Robert to get locked up this time and he's been making some comments about Lex lately and well he can't just let that slide now can he?

Tim blinks for a second then realizes what Lex just said. "Wait you know? Of course you do why wouldn't you.. Actually wait that doesn't matter what the fuck did Robert do? Last I knew he wasn't allowed outside without an escort so I was expecting longer." Lex has a feeling it does in fact matter very much if the way Batman's eyes narrow and his jaw clench indicate anything. Lex needs to continue on or possibly get put in a hospital.

"Oh he's no longer allowed near animal shelters, so-" Kal-El cuts him off, incredibly rudely if he might add.

"What… What is going on here?" Poor man sounds so confused. Lex is savoring this moment.

"Well I know Timothy Drake is Red Robin. Clearly. Red Robin is the hero closest to becoming a villain which fits Tim quite well, and also Tim is the only Gothamite smart enough to be Red Robin. And infuriating enough to personally annoy Ra's al-Ghul on a regular." It's very simple honestly. Lex has no idea what's making this so complicated. "If it helps make you all feel 'safe' and 'secure' I could tell you about the time Timothy told me he had a crush on Kon-" And now Tim's thrown something at him. What is this, interrupt Lex day?

"Shut up! What if I told them about you and Clark Kent?" Ahh, expose his crush, get his own crush exposed. Well unfortunately Lex has no shame about that.

"You mean the man who could lift a 200 lb person with no effort? One of the very few good reporters?" Odd that Kal-El's face is getting red and confused but oh well. "Honestly though, who cares. You know Tim my offer for adopting you still stands. I know it must be absurdly easy to hide being Red Robin from your… family. However I think I could be of more assistance still." Batman's hands are clenching now. Interesting. "I mean you made a fake uncle to get out of being adopted by the oaf, I don't know why you didn't just let me." Ah, Batman's hands are unclenched. He must have thought that uncle was also real. Surprising, really, from 'The World's Greatest Detective' however they clearly have the wrong bat. "And does he even know about your missing spleen? Really, I should get him locked up for child neglect. Even I would notice if anything happened to Kon-El."

Tim's eyes widen at that and snap to Batman's equally wide eyes. They both jump into a sprint, Tim leaping out of a window with the Bat close behind. "Oh, did he not know? Oops."

Perfect. Hopefully that'll have been absurd enough that the Justice League leave him alone, and he can watch his show in peace.

[demonic0angel]

More Fenton! Damien please?

Y’know, I was planning on posting this another day, but since it’s my birthday and I gotta empty out my drafts anyways, here ya go! :D

Extra info:

+ Damian is 10 years old, but the Fentons used to think he was 12 bc when he was young, they were trying to determine his age using an IQ test. It was supposed to determine his mental age, but they made a mistake and thought he was actually 2 years older than he really was (bc he was a smart kid). It’s been corrected since then, but he’s already accidentally skipped 2 grades.

+ He was also named Alexander at first, but they discovered that his real name was Damian, which is why it was moved to become his middle name.

+ Unfortunately, bc he was raised in America with the Fentons for most of his life, he isn’t that connected to his heritage or culture. However, Fentons did learn Arabic for him, as well as join several clubs and groups in order to help him connect to his heritage. Talia is also still a part of his life, so he learns more of his culture from her as well.

+ Talia found Damian and Jazz when he turned seven. She began visiting regularly without revealing her identity, but Jazz figured it out and now they have a custody agreement. Damian is aware of her identity as well, and they have a civil, friendly relationship. (Meanwhile, Talia thinks of Jazz and Damian as both of her kids.)

+ Damian is raised by Jazz, and very, very loved by the friends and family that she has. Maddie and Jack (and Vlad) wholeheartedly consider themselves as his grandparents and Danny and the others think of Damian as their nephew. Bc of this, he’s a very carefree and happy child.

+ Damian still learned fighting and weaponry, but he trains under Maddie, Danny, Talia, and Jazz. He’s very proficient with bladed weapons but is trying to be better at melee weapons like Jazz.

[i2rizz]

Hello again! How would Isagi, Kaiser, Rin & Sae react to 'Reader that's bad at kick the ball' stealing a ball from them? Just a lucky, well-timed little kick that's too simple for their galaxy brains to calculate.

Hello love :))

I havent been active much bc life aint easy but oh well

Bad at kicking the ball!reader stealing a ball from them

Isagi Yoichi

He had the entire play mapped out. Vectors. Field awareness. Enemy positioning. Your angle was nonexistent. Statistically, you shouldn’t even be in the equation.

Yet here you are. You, who once tried to kick a stationary ball and fell backwards, just poked the ball clean from under his foot while he was mid-monologue about "optimal scoring theory"

He freezes. The simulation glitches.

"...Did you predict that?" he asks, stunned.

You're already 10 feet away, chasing the ball like a toddler in a bounce house. He’s still standing there, eyes wide.

"She... No, there’s no way. That wasn’t positioning, that wasn’t reflex—it was... was that luck?" He starts overanalyzing your clumsy shuffle like it was a divine move from a higher dimension.

You trip over your own foot, and he whispers, "Genius...?"

Lil bonus-

You: "I sneezed mid-kick"

Isagi, scribbling on a napkin: "Genius. Weaponize it."

Michael Kaiser

Kaiser is pissed. And confused. But mostly pissed.

He was dribbling at half-speed, trying to look hot while giving you a fake chance. You, in return, flailed your foot out in a desperate, noodle-armed attempt—and actually tapped the ball right between his feet and made off with it.

There’s a long silence.

He slowly turns his head, blond hair flipping dramatically.

"...What the hell was that?" he says, genuinely offended.

You grin. "I stole it. Fair and square"

"From me?"

He jogs up to you, mock-serious. "Okay, okay, okay. Let’s try that again. I’ll give you a real chance this time" He flicks the ball up. "Come on, lucky feet. I dare you"

You trip over your shoelace while trying and faceplant in front of him. He immediately takes a picture.

"You peaked today. You’ll never be this cool again"

Rin Itoshi

Rin doesn’t talk much. Especially not during drills. Especially not to you, the gremlin of the pitch, whose best soccer move so far has been "accidentally tackling the cone"

So when you randomly poke the ball from him mid-dribble and scamper off looking proud as hell—his brain shuts down.

He blinks once. Then again.

He walks after you, slowly. No words. Just silent judgment.

You stick your tongue out at him and hold the ball above your head. "I stole it~!"

He squints. "Give it back"

"No"

"...I will literally pick you up"

You giggle. He does. You flail like a cat in a bath. The ball rolls away.

He retrieves it wordlessly, drops it at your feet again, and sighs.

"You’re annoying"

You do a victory dance. He squints again.

"I'm calling Ego. You're getting drug tested"

You wink. "Scared of me, Itoshi?"

He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "you're an idiot"

Sae Itoshi

He's being lazy as hell-just doing light dribbles, occasionally shooting, hair tousled like he rolled out of bed. You're trying your best, and Sae's trying not to look like he was forced to be there.

You’ve got the foot-eye coordination of a baby duck. You couldn’t score if the goal begged you. So when you sneak up during a casual jog and kick the ball out from under him with all the grace of someone who’s never played a sport before… he just watches it happen in slow motion.

Then looks up at the sky like he’s asking the gods why.

"Huh," he says.

"Did I do good??" you beam.

He looks at you, unblinking. "No"

You frown. "What? I stole the ball!"

"That wasn’t skill. That was divine intervention" He bores his eyes at the ball, muttering, "I’ve trained for years for this, and you get the lucky goal. I hate this timeline"

Sae stares at the ball a lil longer, then you. Then just walks away.

You: "Wait, are you mad?"

Sae: "I'm not emotionally available enough to process that level of embarrassment"

He’s dramatic for five hours. Still makes you dinner though.

[partoffantasy]

Echoes of the Inevitable - Aaric Graycastle / Cam Tauri

⸻ image credits to artbycassmira & etherealbookart ⸻

summary: during tense negotiations on the Isles, reader witnesses a side of Aaric she never expected—commanding, brilliant, and dangerously compelling.

pairing: aaric graycastle x fem!reader warnings: ONYX STORM SPOILERS - if you haven’t read Onyx Storm yet, don’t read further word count: 1.6k

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

The heat of the Isles pressed down on them, thick and stifling despite the breeze coming from the sea. The scent of salt and damp stone filled the air, mingling with the faintest trace of incense from the nearby marketplace. The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the cracked stone plaza where the delegation stood. Soldiers lined the perimeter, their armor gleaming dully under the fading light, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons. The atmosphere was laced with barely restrained hostility, the kind that could tip into violence really quickly.

Y/N shifted her weight, resisting the urge to wipe the sweat from her brow. She was keenly aware of the weight of her own weapons, the tension in the air settling into her bones. Xaden stood at the head of their group, his posture unyielding and full of dominance as he faced the Unbrish commander. Beside him, Violet held herself steady, her eyes flicking between the foreign dignitaries. Dain lingered a step behind, his focus entirely on the unfolding discussion, ready to translate at a moment’s notice.

The commander lifted his hand, and his soldiers immediately fell silent, waiting for his words. "He asks if this is our champion or our leader," Dain translated. A ripple of unease passed through the squad, but before anyone could react, a voice cut through the tension—smooth, confident, and unmistakably fluent. Not in Navarrian. Not in any broken attempt at the language. But in flawless, fluid Unbrish.

Y/N barely caught the way Dain stiffened beside her, his mouth parting in shock. She could only stare, heat creeping up her neck, her stomach twisting with something entirely inappropriate for the situation. It was Aaric. The moment he stepped forward, every ounce of his usual quiet reservation peeled away, revealing something sharper. He moved with a confidence that sent a thrill through her, his broad shoulders squared as he addressed the commander directly. And then, he spoke.

Aaric’s voice was smooth, assured. It carried through the tense plaza like a blade slicing through silk. The words were foreign to her, but that didn’t matter—because she could hear it in his tone. The weight. The meaning. The command. His accent was perfect, his cadence even, and the effect it had on their adversaries was instantaneous. The commander faltered, his expression shifting, while the priestess beside him flicked her gaze toward Aaric with something close to surprise.

Y/N’s throat went dry. By the time Dain regained his composure enough to translate, Aaric was already pivoting back toward them, his hand brushing the pommel of his sword. “Are you fucking serious?” Dain snaps at him. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re fluent?” "You never asked," Aaric said simply, his voice rich with amusement, and Y/N swore she felt it in the pit of her stomach.

Holy shit. This was not the Aaric she sparred with in training, the one who rolled his eyes at pointless drills and carried himself like he was just another first-year. This was someone else entirely. Someone who spoke like he belonged on a throne. Someone who was utterly, unfairly, devastatingly attractive when he wielded language like a weapon.

She pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to shift on her feet. It wasn’t the time. It wasn’t the place. But when Xaden surged forward, grabbing Aaric by the collar to shove him back into place, all she could focus on was the flicker of defiance in Aaric’s green eyes. Y/N exhaled, barely resisting the urge to groan. Oh, she was in so much trouble.

⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻⸻

The second time it happened, they were at the negotiation table in Hedontis, having just met Xaden’s mother, and Y/N swore Aaric was doing it on purpose. She had spent the better part of an hour trying to focus on the discussion, on the careful exchange of words between Xaden, the Isles’ leadership, and their allies. It was a delicate discussion, one she knew could turn dangerous if handled incorrectly. But then Aaric opened his mouth again, and all hope of concentration vanished.

"It is rather arrogant of us to simply refer to it as the Continent," he mused, his voice like velvet-wrapped steel. "As though there aren’t others beyond the sea. But we've been torn apart by war for so long, it's hard for anyone to think that we are one... anything." Y/N nearly choked on her drink. The table fell silent, all eyes snapping to him. Even Xaden looked mildly impressed. But Aaric? Aaric just continued cutting into his meal with calm indifference, as if he hadn’t just upended the entire tone of the conversation.

Nairi’s gaze flickered from Cat to Xaden to Aaric. "So many young royals here. So many potential alliances. Why are you not contracted to one another? It seems... foolish not to forge futures and provide heirs who could unite your kingdoms." The chicken went dry in Y/N’s mouth, but Mira shot her a can you believe these people look that steadied her heartbeat.

"My brother will be king," Aaric said, slicing through his chicken like this was any normal dinner. "Though a horrible one. Heirs and alliances aren't my concern. I will fight in this war, most likely die, and do so knowing that I protected others." Aaric's gaze flickered across the table, his usual air of detached confidence wavering for just a second. Then, his eyes found hers.

Y/N felt the shift—a sudden weight pressing down on her chest. His stare held something she couldn't decipher, something raw and knowing. It wasn’t just resolve or the grim acceptance of war. It was grief. It was finality. And it was personal. She swallowed, her pulse hammering against her throat. Why was he looking at her like that? Like he already knew something she didn't? Like he was memorizing her?

Before she could force her mouth to form a single question, Aaric turned away, his expression smoothing back into that infuriating, unreadable calm. "Honor has never been the equal of wisdom," Nairi sighed, then looked to Xaden. "And your excuse? We received news months ago that your title had been restored to you." When Xaden started answering Nairi, Y/N barely heard the next words. Aaric's gaze had lingered on hers, and the depth of emotion in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. There was something there—something heavy, something she couldn't decipher. He knew something, she was sure of it. But before she could press him, before she could demand an answer, the Hedontis’ changed the topic to what they value most—knowledge and thus drawing her attention away.

“Amaralys. The only thing our kingdoms ever agreed on was calling it the Continent after the Great War," Aaric said, finally putting his silverware down after cleaning his plate. "Rather arrogant of us to simply refer to it as the Continent, as though there aren't others beyond the sea, but we've been torn apart by war for so long it's hard for anyone to think that we are one... anything." For fuck's sake, what else was Aaric holding on to?

"You're rather quiet for someone who seems to know so much," Nairi remarked. "I prefer keeping my mouth shut until I understand the rules of whatever game is aiming for my throat. Helps me judge the character and acumen of my opponent." He looked at each of them in turn. "Honestly, I find you lacking, and I'm not sure I want you for an ally. You have no army and you're stingy with the very thing that should be free to all—knowledge."

"And yet you seek our favor?" Nairi’s eyebrows shot up, and she blinked rapidly. "Me?" Aaric shook his head. "No. I'm just here because Halden can't control his temper and Violet didn't just bond one of our most terrifying battle dragons, but also an irid—the seventh breed. Dark wielders are spreading. People are dying as we sit here. Every day we're gone could change the battle map in ways we can't begin to predict. And my kingdom is full of assholes who won't take refugees under king's orders, so tracking down the irids is our best hope of not only adding to our numbers but maybe figuring out how we beat the venin six hundred years ago.”

Holy shit, this was something else entirely. The way he stood his ground, unwavering, his voice a lethal mix of precision and raw conviction—it sent a thrill down her spine. Every word that left his mouth was deliberate, measured, and she could feel the weight of them settle deep in her chest. This wasn’t just confidence; it was command. And damn it, it was making her smirk. She couldn't help the way her eyes traced the sharp angles of his face, the way his fingers rested with deceptive ease on the table as if he hadn't just unsettled everyone around him. Every word he spoke sent another shiver down her spine, curling low in her stomach. It was dangerous, the way he did this to her—how effortlessly he held his own against people who had spent their entire lives navigating power plays.

"You are the highest member of nobility in your party," Roslyn noted, shifting. "Is it not up to you?" "Nobility doesn't play into rank, at least not for me." Aaric glanced Y/N’s way. "Andarna chose Violet, and though there are four superiorly ranked officers with us, it's Violet's mission. She's in command. And with the exception of her rather questionable taste in men, I've trusted Violet's wisdom since childhood." Their eyes met, and Y/N felt another rush of heat spread through her.

She was so, so screwed.

[brie-is-cheesy]

I love you... Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.

Pairing: Sylus × Reader

Word count: 1679 or 1.6k words

Warnings: slight angst to smut and a little fluff, fingering, oral sex(fem receiving), dry humping(sort of), Sylus is shot, reader is not mc

Your head snapped to your phone as it started vibrating violently.

“Hello?” Pressing ‘accept,’ you brought the device to your ear.

“Y/N…” A familiar drawl on the other side caused you to sigh.

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“C’mon, N/n. I promise this is the last time,” he said, but you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“That’s what you said the last three times. And I’m busy,” you stated but grabbed your keys anyway.

“I need you.” His breath was ragged, and you clenched your fists—and hung up.

Before you knew it, you were locking your door and making your way to the basement of your apartment building. Climbing atop your green-accented motorcycle, you twisted the key, put on your helmet, and were on your way.

You kicked down the door to the warehouse, eyes searching as you stormed through. The location tracker showed you were only a few meters from the target.

His white hair came into view, and you released a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Kneeling down at his side, you started patting different parts of his body.

“Ah,” he winced lightly as your hand brushed against his abdomen.

You pressed your left palm flat against the bullet wound as your other hand dug around in your purse, desperately searching for the first-aid kit you carried with you.

This was a common occurrence between the two of you—something that was pretty much a given for the best friend and confidant of the leader of Onychinus. It had grown exponentially recently. Ever since he met her.

Cute, kind, and brave. The holy trinity. MC. But you could only describe her as a naïve, immature fool who had only ever caused you more trouble since entering your best friend’s life—and, by extension, yours.

MC was the last person you would think to be involved with the most dangerous gang in the N109 area. The two of you were vastly different. Seriously, it was uncanny. You, with your bare, bloody knuckles, short temper, and even shorter dresses. And her, with her hunter academy training, top-of-the-line education, and proper uniform.

You and MC were undoubtedly complete and total opposites. The only thing you had in common was, well, Sylus. As you bandaged him up, you started looking around for her, expecting to find her sprawled out on the floor clinging to her weapon dearly—or already passed out.

Whatever the case, you’d end up fixing her up as always. Because that was what you did, wasn’t it? You were strong, capable, and reliable. These were the reasons Sylus held you in such high regard.

Unlike her, you didn’t effortlessly win hearts simply by existing. Your beauty was a weapon in itself—sharp features and blood-red lips to go with his leather jackets and most likely bruised self.

“Hello? You there? Y/N. Ow.” His sudden hiss of pain brought you back to reality.

“Hurry up and move.” You stood up, extending a hand and pulling him up with little to no effort. You started walking in the other direction. Sylus’ warm hand enveloped your wrist, and you turned around—only to come face to face with him, noses mere inches apart.

“At least look at me.” His tone was cool, but his pleading eyes betrayed his true feelings.

“Where is she?” you said, your lips pursed as they often were in matters regarding the hunter.

“Where’s who?” he asked, his hand sliding down just a bit to hold your equally calloused one.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“…She had to go back home,” he said, sounding defeated.

“In the middle of a fight?” You scoffed.

“Yeah.” He gritted his teeth.

“So let me get this straight. You ignored all my warnings and proceeded to go after someone who then left you alone to fight at the very least three S-rank wanderers all on your own.” You raised your eyebrows, traces of wrath bubbling beneath your calm demeanor.

“Y/N, I know I fucked up. I should have listened to you. Can you skip the lecture, just this once?” he implored.

“Fine,” you relented.

You searched his face for any signs of distress, and upon finding no significant amount of it, decided he must’ve been feeling better. You brought a hand up to trace the outline of the freshly acquired wound on his cheekbone.

“I’m okay,” he assured you.

“I know.” You brought your hand back to rest at your side once more.

“You aren’t mad?” There was a hint of suspicion in his voice.

You shook your head, the sound of something rustling nearby enough for the two of you to rush out of the warehouse. Once you made it back to his house, you made your way to the bedroom.

He took a shower, and you resorted to finding the clothes you’d left behind the last time you were here, which was just last week. Right before Miss Hunter had barreled her way into your lives once more, leaving destruction in her wake—which you would end up having to fix.

You lay on the bed with your eyes closed, trying to fall asleep, and felt something warm slip in behind you. His arms snaked around your waist, and he pressed a kiss to your neck.

“Go away,” you grumbled.

“Can’t do that, darling.” He nuzzled into your bare shoulder.

“Really? Because, if I recall correctly, you had no qualms doing exactly that when she was the one asking.” You shifted and turned around to face him.

“I’m sorry.” He kissed the tip of your nose.

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it this time.” You bit the inside of your cheek, resolve slowly cracking as his hands traveled to your breasts, kneading them just how he knew you liked it.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” he said, lingering water droplets falling from the ends of his hair onto the dark sheets.

“You won’t talk to her,” you stated.

“I won’t,” he mumbled against your skin. “I love you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”

“I love you, Y/N. More than anything.” His eyes bore into your soul as if seeing right through you. You gulped.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

That was all the confirmation he needed to smash his lips into yours, as he’d done several times before. But for some reason, this time felt different. And so you kissed him back—just as passionately.

His hands made their way to your hips, one slipping beneath the waistband of your pajamas. You called out his name lightly as the pads of his fingers made contact with your sensitive clit. You hummed.

He slid your bottoms off, repositioning himself at the base of the bed and pulling your closer by your thighs. You moaned as he licked a stripe up your cunt. 

He had always made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered to him. Perhaps that was why even as he slipped two fingers in without so much as a warning, your couldn’t find it in yourself to berate him any further. 

He sucked on your clit in a way that—paired with the pace he had set with his fingers—had you seeing stars. You were getting impossibly close, the familiar coil tightening in your stomach. 

You came with a cry of his name—letting out a small moan at the sight of him licking his fingers clean. He came up to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. God, the things he did to you.

While making out once again, you felt something hard poking you, which prompted you to roll your hips against his. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he groaned.

“Pretty sure I do the exact opposite of that most days. Need I remind you there is still a gaping hole in you?” you chided.

“I have to apologise somehow.” He said, as if he had no choice.

If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you would’ve have been convinced his hands were tied. The only one who could free him of the burden that was your eternal debt being you yourself. 

You flipped the two of you—now being on top of him—and gyrated your hips with an ample amount of pressure. You were careful so as not to hurt him, or risk the bandages getting loose. 

“Come on, you can do better than that.” He grinned, though a particularly hard thrust from you shut him up effectively. 

You increased the pace, his clothed dick rubbed deliciously against your puffy clit. You moaned as he grabbed your hips and further ground your hips into his.

“Sylus!” Your head fell on his shoulder, breath coming out in ragged puffs.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” He bucked his hips up, successfully leading you and himself to orgasm. 

Your soaked pussy clenched around nothing and you gushed all over his branded sweatpants. He followed a second later—painting the insides of his pants white.

You both panted but stayed like that for a while—your head in the crook of his neck, and his right hand tangled in your hair. Eventually, you went to get a wet washcloth, helping him clean up.

You laid back down as he put on a fresh pair of pants and tossed his stained ones in the hamper. He followed after you, pulling you into a hug.

“I love you,” he whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Mhm.” You flicked his nose.

“Say it back!” He gasped dramatically.

“Fine, you big baby.” You cracked a smile. “I love you.”

The blanket draped over you both offered much-appreciated warmth, but even that couldn’t compare to the sheer amount of body heat Sylus was radiating.

Even if sometimes he acted like a complete idiot, he was your idiot. And nothing would ever change that.

With that thought, you drifted off in his arms, lips lightly stretched in a contented smile.

A/n: Had the idea yesterday. Pulled an all-nighter and wrote this in one go,, I need to go to sleep now.

You can find more of my works here 🩷🩷