#the wall mount just made me feel so safe

[algrenion]

in my disabled slumber, i dream of Wall Mounted Fold-Out Shower Seat With Legs……….

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

As if you care | Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: JJ and Rafe crash at the finish line of the Enduro Race. Just because you and Rafe aren't together anymore doesn't mean you weren't worried about his safety.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! I promise I proof read the best I could with a 13 month old running around getting into everything 😅

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

The beach was packed with onlookers, ready to watch the 2024 Enduro race and see who would take champion this year. Your feet dug in the hot sand as you made it through the crowd to the sideline where the rest of the Pogues were. JJ would be racing again this year hoping to turn his luck around and win this year.

You could see across the track the kooks gathering around. One in particular catching your eye dressed like he was ready to race. He was never one to participate in these types of things so seeing him there was a shock.

"Rafe's here racing?" You ask Sarah, watching as Rafe pushes his bike to the starting line, beside the other racers.

She too was confused by his participation, shrugging, "I guess so."

Shielding your eyes from the hot sun, you can see Rafe has noticed you, giving you a brief nod of acknowledgment before swinging his leg over the bike to mount it.

"Shit," Sarah says, "Why the hell is he racing?" She's immediately stomping through the sand toward John B where he too is pushing his bike to the starting line next to JJ.

You followed Sarah, heading for JJ.

"You here to give me a good luck kiss?" JJ teases you with a kissy face, leaning close to you, as Sarah leans over to give John B a kiss.

You shove him in the shoulder, laughing, "You wish, Maybank."

He chuckles mounting his bike, sliding his bandana over his head, "No see I think if you kissed me, I'd win."

You rolled your eyes at his flirting, "Try not to get killed out there." You grab his helmet off the back of his bike, handing it to him. You and JJ had grown close after breaking up with Rafe, but it never crossed a friendship line. He was flirty, but both of you knew there wasn't anything there. He knew you still loved Rafe.

"You see your boy is racing today?"

"Yeah," You reply. Before anything else is said, the announcer gives the racers the minute warning. "Be safe out there."

"Oh I'll be so safe," He drags out with a laugh, hand on his heart.

You can't help but laugh at the memory with Pope, heading back toward the sideline with Sarah.

Rafe slides his helmet over his head, starting his engine and revving it a few times. Even behind helmet you can feel his eyes on you. He felt the anger pulsing through his veins as he saw the interaction between you and JJ. He should have known he would lose you and you'd moved on by now. It only pissed him off more that it was JJ.

You and Rafe had dated for a year before you ended it. He'd started hanging around the wrong crowd, drugs and alcohol making him a changed man. He wasn't the Rafe you fell in love with and you'd tried everything to get him to stop, get help and go to rehab but he'd blown up, destroying your shared apartment in anger; broken furniture, glass littering the floor, holes in the wall. It left you terrified and you gave him the ultimatum. Get help or you were leaving him. Unfortunately, the group had their nails dug deep in him and he wasn't ready to give up his way of life yet. You'd packed up everything you owned from the apartment that night with the help of the Pogues and hadn't looked back.

It didn't mean you didn't care for Rafe. or that you ever stopped loving him. There was no way you could live like that with him and Rafe didn't want the help. You had to admit, you could tell he looked healthier there on the beach, nothing like he did when you left 6 months previous. He'd shaved his hair, his skin was tan and those dark circles under his eyes were gone.

Soon the race began, sand flying through the air. The announcers had people set through the track to see where the racers stood in standings.

At the beginning, Rafe was first, JJ falling behind. As they come around the last curve, JJ jumped the sand dune, putting him in first place. Rafe and JJ went neck and neck, bumping into each other.

They both recovered but Rafe went for him again, bumping his tire and sending both of them flying through the air, landing hard in the sand.

As the race concludes, Topper taking first, everyone stormed the track, you immediately went to JJ with the Pogues.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" JJ starts toward Rafe.

"Get use to it, pogue." He shakes the sand off his arms.

JJ lunges for Rafe and Rafe lunges for JJ, but you quickly jump between them, "Hey! Hey both of you stop it!" pushing them back by their chests,

"You could have killed each other! are you fucking crazy!" You spit out to Rafe of anger and worry for the both of them.

"As if you care." Rafe pushes your hand off his chest, his shoulder bumping into you as he pushes past you before storming through the crowd.

You make sure JJ's ok, before following after Rafe. "Rafe!" Your legs burn as they dig into the sand, his long legs making it hard for you to catch up.

He doesn't acknowledge you, unzipping his suit to his waist as he nears his truck.

"Rafe!" You finally catch up to him at his truck, grabbing his arm to will him to face you, "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

He faces you, his face red with anger, "I know I fucked up alright, but did you really have to go for Maybank?" He lets his trucks tailgate down to throw his suit and boots in the back. He doesn't give you a chance to answer, "Just go back to your boyfriend. I'll apologize later when I'm calm."

The slam of the tailgate makes you jump, but you recover, grabbing his arm, "JJ is not my boyfriend! You don't get to pull this bullshit. Not after all the shit you put me through. You seriously could have killed both of you! That was reckless; a stupid move."

He can see your angry and if he's not mistaken, even a little scared, "Why do you care about my safety anyways? It's not like we're together."

"I didn't stop caring for you Rafe. I just didn't deserve the way you were treating me and I left. You needed help and you wouldn't accept it. What was I suppose to do? Stay with you while you continued to wreck our relationship and your life? You destroyed our apartment; you broke furniture. put holes in the walls. I was terrified."

He lets his back hit the side of his truck, running a hand over his head as he looks down at the ground, embarrassed he let his feelings get the best of him. "You're right, I shouldn't have done what I did. Today or that night. I was in deep with that group and I should have got out sooner. You did the right thing leaving." He finally wills himself to look at you. His eyes are sad, "As much as it broke my heart to see you leave, you did the right thing. I wasn't in a good head space and honestly I don't know what I would have done to you. I'm sorry I even put you through what I did. You didn't deserve it."

"I forgive you," You lay your hand on his arm, "I just wanted my Rafe back." You say, tears threatening to spill over.

Rafe wipes a tear away with his knuckle, "I'm here."

You lean into his touch, eyes closing in the comfort of his touch. You missed him.

Soon, his hands are tugging you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders and he plants a kiss against your hair. You can feel your entire body relax into his. Your hands move up his back, palms open against his shoulder blades.

"God, I don't deserve you." He says into your hair, giving you a tighter squeeze. He needed this comfort just as much as you did.

He's the first to pull away from you, hands sliding to your cheeks, "I've missed you."

You place your hand over his, bringing his hand to your lips, and kissing his palm, "I've missed you too."

~

The two of you start heading back to the beach, deciding you both needed the extra time together. Everything finally felt right in the world. Your hand in his as your feet dig into the sand, the orange of the sun dancing against the ocean's waves as it sets against the ocean's horizon.

"I can see you still let your emotions get the better of you."

He chuckles softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you toward him, "When it comes to you, I do." He says before kissing the top of your head.

I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments and reblogs are always welcomed and so appreciated! x

[harrysfolklore]

home hero - charles x reader

gif by @princemick <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Monaco is Charles' home. Growing up, he had watched the Grand Prix from the balconies and rooftops, dreaming of the day he would stand atop the podium. Each year, the pressure mounted as he came so close, only to have victory slip through his fingers.

Today felt different. There was a determined glint in his eye this morning as he kissed you goodbye and headed to the track. You could tell he was ready, more focused than ever before. You had to believe this was his year.

"Are you nervous?" you asked, leaning against the kitchen counter asyou watched him get everything he needed before heading out.

"More than usual," he admitted, flashing you a quick smile,"But I feel good. I have a good feeling about today."

"You’ve got this, Charles. I believe in you," you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you," he hugged you tightly, resting his chin on top of your head.

"You'd still be amazing," you said, looking up at him,"But I'm glad I get to be here with you."

You arrived at the circuit, the familiar roar of engines filling your ears as you made your way to the paddock. You found your usual spot in the Ferrari garage, the team bustling around with last-minute preparations. You exchanged nervous smiles with the crew, all of you hoping for the same outcome.

You watched as Charles went through his pre-race routine, meticulously checking everything himself even though he trusted his team completely. He looked up at you and smiled, his nervous eyes softening the moment they landed on you.

"Hey, come here," he called softly, waving you over.

You walked over, taking his gloved hand in yours. "You’re going to do great, you know that, right?"

"I just," he sighed, "Really want that win, you know? Not just for me, but for my family, my friends, for us," you smiled fondly at his words, "This is my home and everyone believes in me, I don't want to keep letting them down."

"Charles, you've never let anyone down," you squeezed his hand, "You've given everything you have, every time and that's why everyone believes in you. No matter what happens today, you're already a champion in our eyes."

"You're too sweet," he teased with a small smile, pecking your lips quickly, "I need to go. I'll see you after the race."

"Be safe out there," you said, giving him one last lingering kiss.

You watched as he made his way to the car, taking a deep breath before climbing in. The race was about to begin, and the anticipation was palpable. You found your seat in the garage, eyes glued to the screen, heart pounding with every lap.

As the race progressed, it was clear that Charles was driving with everything he had. Lap after lap, he maintained his position and defended his lead against the competition.

With only a few laps to go, the tension in the garage was at an all-time high. You could barely breathe, every fiber of your being focused on Charles and the car.

And then, it happened. Charles crossed the finish line and the checkered flag was waved, securing his first win at the Monaco Grand Prix. The garage erupted in cheers, and you felt tears of joy streaming down your face.

He did it. He actually did it.

Before you even knew what was happening, you ran to the pit wall, heart soaring with pride as you watched Charles climb out of the car, his face a mixture of disbelief and pure elation. He waved to the crowd, taking in the moment before making his way over to the barrier, his eyes searching for you.

You pushed through the crowd, your heart racing as you made your way to him. When he finally saw you, his face lit up with the brightest smile you'd ever seen.

"Charles!" you called out, your voice cracking with emotion.

"We did it!" he shouted, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly, his voice full of joy and relief.

"You did it," you corrected, laughing through your tears. "I'm so proud of you!"

"I couldn't have done it without you," he said, pressing his forehead against yours. "Fuck! I can't believe this is real."

You kissed him, a sweet and lingering kiss that held all the words you couldn't say in that moment. When you pulled back, you saw the love and gratitude in his eyes, and it made your heart swell with even more pride.

"Now go stand on top of the podium, you deserve it."

The celebrations were in full swing as it was time for the podium. Charles was greeted with cheers and applause from the team, his family, and the fans who had supported him through thick and thin. The Monegasque flag waving proudly above him.

The national anthem played, and you watched as tears of pride and joy rolled down Charles' cheeks. This was the moment he had dreamed of, the moment he worked so hard for. And now, it was finally here.

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

yandere!Conner kidnapping reader after she rejects him😔

(I'M HAPPY YOU'RE DOING WELL<3)

Yandere connor Kent x reader

Conner Kent was used to losing things—control, stability, even his sense of self—but he didn’t think he could lose you. Not after everything. You were the only person who didn’t look at him like a walking science experiment or a Superman knockoff. You didn’t ask him what it felt like to have two dads who didn’t care enough to stick around. You didn’t treat him like a weapon in waiting, either.

You just saw him, the way no one else did.

And for someone like him, who had spent his entire existence clawing for meaning, that sight was everything.

So when you said no, when you told him you didn’t feel the same, it was like a fist to his gut. He played it cool, shrugged, tossed out some half-hearted "No big deal," before walking away. But inside, something cracked open. Something dark.

Because rejection wasn’t just rejection—it was abandonment. And Conner Kent had been abandoned enough for one lifetime.

When you woke up, the room was dimly lit, with the faint smell of leather and motor oil clinging to the air. The bed beneath you was soft, but the weight of an unfamiliar blanket felt suffocating. You blinked against the hazy light, your brain sluggish as it tried to make sense of where you were.

The faint sound of music hummed in the background, something low and grungy that vibrated through the walls. You tugged at your wrists and realized, to your growing panic, that they were tied—not tightly, but enough to keep you from slipping away.

"Morning, sunshine," came a voice from the corner of the room.

Your head snapped toward it, your heart lurching as you spotted Conner leaning against the wall. His leather jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and his arms were crossed over his chest, muscles taut beneath his white t-shirt. His face was unreadable, but there was something dangerous in the way his blue eyes caught the light.

"Conner?" Your voice came out small, shaky. "What the hell is going on?"

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Relax. You’re safe. Isn’t that what everyone wants to hear?"

You struggled against the restraints, your panic mounting. "Safe? Are you kidding me? Let me go!"

He pushed off the wall and sauntered toward you, his boots heavy against the floor. When he stopped beside the bed, he crouched so his face was level with yours.

"Yeah, that’s not happening," he said casually, his tone almost bored.

Your stomach flipped. "Conner, this isn’t funny! You can’t just—"

"I can’t just what? Take care of you? Make sure no one hurts you? Because guess what? I’m already doing a better job at that than anyone else ever could."

"You call this taking care of me?!" you snapped, tears welling in your eyes. "This is insane!"

His jaw twitched, and for a second, you saw the cracks in his cool exterior. "What’s insane," he said quietly, his voice low and sharp, "is thinking you could just walk away. Like I’m nothing. Like I don’t—" He stopped himself, exhaling harshly. "Do you know how many people have walked out on me, [name]? How many times I’ve been left behind like I didn’t matter?"

Your breath caught as you saw the raw, unguarded pain flicker across his face.

"But you?" He continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You were different. You made me feel like I was more than just some half-baked clone. And then you threw it all away like it didn’t mean anything."

"Conner, that’s not—"

"Save it," he cut you off, standing abruptly and running a hand through his messy black hair. "You don’t get it. You don’t see what I see. But you will. I’ll make sure of it."

He turned back to you, his smirk returning, though it was laced with something darker now. "You’ll thank me eventually, you know. Once you realize I’m the only one who gives a damn about you."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, your fear and anger warring with the flicker of pity you couldn’t quite suppress.

"Conner," you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. "This isn’t love. This isn’t how you treat someone you care about."

He froze for a moment, his expression hardening. Then he scoffed, shaking his head. "You don’t know what love is," he muttered. "But don’t worry. I’ll teach you."

And with that, he turned and walked toward the door, his boots echoing in the small room.

"Get some rest," he said over his shoulder. "You’re gonna need it."

The door closed behind him with a resounding click, and you were left alone, the weight of his obsession settling over you like a heavy chain.

(A/n: sorry for the wait! I've been writing all day, my hands are aching there's like 15 asks edited in my drafts 😭 TYSM FOR THE WORRY though you don't need to, im fine😛 but not today.. This is my last post before I go to a short hiatus, maybe for 1 or 2 weeks? Either way, I'm not gonna post for awhile because of mental health issues, exams, and chirstmas. Merry Christmas everyone!!)

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Max wanting to have sex on Rocky after the gala is over and before Rocky is put away

The Real Prize - Rocky || MV1

Pre-Gala || The Real Prize || Jealousy || Panties || Captivity || Rocky || Escaping || Thighs || Consequences || A Mile High

The storage containers behind the stage were dimly lit, but the shining moment had and gone for the machines that had made history and now they were being tucked away in the dark. Somehow Max knew where his car was before you could even see it, his sure steps guiding you safely between the rest until his livery appeared.

Max tugged you closer and crushed his lips to yours. “Been needing another taste of you,” he hummed as he drew your dress up higher. “Been wanting to do this all year.”

He guided you onto the body of the race car and you leaned back on the halo as he lifted your legs, settling your heels onto the side pod.

“So beautiful…” he mused as he spread your legs wider. He pushed his trousers down enough to free the erection he had been battling since he stole your panties and watched you bite your lip as he buried himself inside you. “Hmm, fits me perfectly.”

“Me or the car, because I’m getting a little jealous here.” Though you were joking, he took it upon himself to clarify as he fucked you in a way he had only imagined.

“You, schatje, always you,” he promised quietly between the gentle kisses he left along your neck. “This is what you do to me, I can’t think clearly when I see you, so beautiful it hurts. You were made for me, look how perfect we are.”

He pulled back enough to look down and see his cock filling you with each stroke, the sight of your union over the red bull livery was almost enough to tip him over, but he was a gentleman, he wouldn’t come until you did.

“We could go to jail for this,” you whispered as you tried to keep from moaning too loudly. “If we get caught.”

“So we don’t get caught,” he stated, reaching into his pocket and fisting your panties. He ran his thumb over your lips and smirked when they parted for him. “This will keep you quiet.”

The scent and taste drove you wild. You could taste Max’s come on the lace and your body burned to have more from him as you gripped the halo tighter and rocked your hips, meeting him stroke for stroke. Your screams certainly would have given you away if it weren’t for the material Max had stuffed in your mouth, muffling them to muted cries.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he rasped as he tugged at his bow, the clothing suddenly all too constricting and hot. “I just want to stay buried here forever.”

You wiped the sheen of sweat on his forehead, brushing it back into his hair and you tugged the dirty blond strands as your pleasure mounted. One heel slipped and you wrapped your leg around his hip instead, driving him deeper. Your hold on the halo faltered as your pussy clenched and it was only Max’s strength that kept you in place as you rode your orgasm out in his arms.

You gasped a deep breath as the lace was ripped out of your mouth and Max sealed his lips over yours to silence it, his tongue dancing with yours. He held off as long as he could, relishing the feel of your walls coating him in your release before he gave into his.

“Hello, is anyone in there?” A voice came from the dark.

Max moved instantly, placing you on your feet and pulling your dress down before he sorted himself out. He combed a hand through his damp hair and turned to face the security man who heard something inside.

“Oh, sorry Mr Verstappen, I didn’t realise it was you.”

“That’s okay, we were just leaving.” Max’s arm curled around your waist and helped with your unsteady steps, guiding back towards the lights.

“Mr Verstappen, wait, sir,” the man rushed to follow and Max gave him an inpatient look as the speakers returned to life and asked everyone to return to their seats. “You forget this.”

You barely stifled your laugh as he was handed his trophy for a third time that evening.

“There’s one other thing, did you notice the large scratch earlier?” He clicked his torch on and shone it at the side pod. The bull had a jagged cut right through the vinyl and your eyes widened.

“No,” Max said with a squeeze to your hip. “But I wouldn’t worry, they will put a new wrap on before it is displayed.”

“Are you sure?” you whispered as you chewed your lip.

“You know, there’s only one person that can get away with scratching the RB19,” he teased as you left the storage area. “You are lucky I love you, schatje.”

“Technically that is your fault,” you defended.

“Was I wearing stilettos?”

“If you weren’t so sexy in that suit I could have resisted you.”

Max smirked as he looked down at you, his hand coming to rest on your cheek as he slowly dipped his head down. Your lips parted eagerly for the kiss but his lips merely hovered above yours until you whined. His smirk grew and his eyes saw the truth as he chuckled. “No you couldn’t.”

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for 🦄 behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Like–they didn’t read to you or let you watch movies and stuff, you mean?” Billy asks with a frown. “Just put the whole things in your head at once?” 

That sounds disorienting, and also kinda mean and lazy on Cadmus’s part. But maybe it wasn’t as bad as it– 

Lynn looks down at Tawky; flips his ear back and forth again and rubs the pad of his thumb across the inside of it. 

Billy . . . frowns, again. 

“No,” Lynn says to Tawky’s ear, as opposed to actually either of them. “I mean they didn’t tell me stories at all.” 

. . . wow, yeah. Billy is definitely committing fifty-two floors’ worth of arson. 

“Oh, okay,” he says, making a few mental notes for himself about, again, arson. Like, just the whole process and everything. “Well, they suck, then. We’ll just have to get you some different types to try, I guess. Like with the food and all, you know? It’s a library, anyway, it’s not like it costs money to borrow stuff or anything.” 

“It’s just stories,” Lynn says to Tawky’s ear, not lifting his eyes at all. “They’re not��important. To . . . I don’t need things like that.” 

“Why do you think that?” Billy asks with a frown, though his inner arsonist is already pretty sure it’s Cadmus's fault. Pretty much positive, in fact. 

Pretty definitely positive. 

Lynn shrugs. Rubs the inside of Tawky’s ear. It’s really soft, Billy knows; Tawky’s fur always feels nice to touch. He wonders, actually, how much stuff Lynn even has touched so far. 

He wonders, again, if anybody’s ever hugged him before. 

He really hates the thought that maybe no one has. He really hates . . . 

He just really hates that that’s even a thing that might be a thing at all. 

“Weapons don't need to know stories,” Lynn says. “They just need to do as they're told.” 

. . . in retrospect, arson might be half-assing what Billy should do to Cadmus. 

“This isn't so you can be a weapon,” he reminds Lynn carefully, resisting the urge to clench his fists in his lap. “Remember?” 

“‘This’,” Lynn echoes. He still doesn't look up. 

“I'm taking care of you,” Billy says. 

“Maintaining me,” Lynn says very, very quietly. “Containing me.” 

“I really hate that somebody made you think that's what that means,” Billy says tightly. Lynn ducks his head lower and looks towards the wall. 

He doesn't say anything back. Billy bites his tongue, trying to figure out what he should–do, or say, or . . . 

The truth, obviously, but how to say it's a lot harder. 

“This isn't, like–a containment thing. That's not why I'm taking care of you,” he tries, because it's the best place to start he can think of. The wisdom of Solomon covers a lot of knowledge, but not necessarily always how to apply that knowledge. “Like, we wanna know where you are so we know you're safe, or at least know you've got your phone just in case, and the curfew thing is–like, normal kids get curfews. So people know where they are, and that they're not in trouble or anything. And like–so people know when to get help for them, if they might be in trouble.” 

Lynn doesn't say anything, still. Billy's not sure if that means he's just thinking, or if it means he hasn't said the right thing yet. 

He really hopes it's the thinking thing, but . . . 

“Honestly the other idea was putting you up in Mount Justice,” he admits. “But it doesn't have any windows or anything, and I don't even know if anyone else was gonna be there most of the time, and–”

“Windows?” Lynn . . . frowns, his eyes flicking back to him. 

“Um, yeah,” Billy says. Lynn stares blankly at him for a moment, then slants his eyes towards the apartment windows and–hesitates, a little. 

“. . . you mean there's no sun,” he realizes slowly.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Killing Time 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.

Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

Your frustration mounts as you click the permissions again to allow the camera and microphone access. It’s so annoying! It just keeps running you in circles. Great. This is off to a good start. Late for the interview. That’s always the best first impression. 

When at last your firewall stops blocking the call, you flinch at the sight of yourself in the corner. You’re further jarred by the man staring back at you. Your mouth opens and for a moment, you’re frozen. You were so focused on troubleshooting, you forgot about what was waiting on the other end. 

“Oh, hi,” you squeak. “Sorry, I--” you look around, glancing through the clear walls of the library study room. It’s the first time you’ve been to this branch but you didn’t think the clutter of your apartment would make a good backdrop. “I was having issues with my camera.” 

“Quite alright,” he responds with a grin and a lilted accent. He sounds as professional as he looks. 

He wears a grey jacket over a muted teal shirt that lights up his eyes, even over the screen. His short hair is combed back neatly and there’s not a speck of stubble on his jaw. Under the structure of his attire you can tell he’s well-built. 

You resist the urge to look down at yourself. A white blouse. Boring but professional. It gets the job done. Hopefully. 

You force a smile. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he begins through your nervous silence. “I do appreciate your time and I would hate to waste it. So, we can hop right in.” He looks unflinchingly into the camera, “oh, let us not go so far past courtesy. I am James, we’ve been corresponding, yes?” 

“Uh, yeah, I remember. James.” You gulp. 

He says your name with a keen inclination. “This is rather not the position which requires those cliche questions so I won’t trouble you with asking what animal best reflects your personality.” 

You cough out a humouring chuckle and fold your hands on the desk. 

“Forgive if I should seem to the point. You see, it’s a very practical position. I think it’s best we go over what is expected before we go into the finer details; expenses, relocation, dates--” 

“Mm,” you squeak and put a finger up, “s-sorry, um, I thought we were interviewing but it sound like you’ve made a decision?” 

“Well, yes, I’ve reviewed your CV and your submitted profile and your answers to the questionnaire were acceptable. I didn’t think there was much else to consider,” he intones. You shift and try to hide your surprise. 

“No, of course, that makes sense,” you say. “Thanks, I guess I was confused.” 

“Not to worry. I find that written communication can often lack clarity so I thought it best we have a face-to-face in this circumstance,” he looks down as if he has a book or paper before him. “So, did you have any questions before I proceed?” 

“No, no, really, I'm sure you’ll answer them all.” Your cheeks bloom in a half-smile. You were so nervous about getting the job but you’ve already got it. 

“Right then,” he sits back and once more stares down the camera. “It is a very old property but the upkeep has been consistent. There should not be any glaring necessities for maintenance, this more of a custodial position. So, you would be the one to keep the place clean, make sure it is aired out, tend to the lawns but we do employ a grounds keeping service that comes fortnightly to trim.” 

You nod. It’s intriguing. You were sent photos of the property but you’re not quite sure of its purpose. Judging by the clustered pines in the background, you would guess it’s remote. A getaway that could be a goldmine for those wanting a vacation from the urban jungle. 

“You would have a roster, you see, of those you could contact for service so you will not require any specialisations. You are the day-to-day and would be expected to bring in the appropriate support for higher-touch difficulties.” 

“Right,” you try not to show your anxiety. 

“Albeit I should warn you that the reception in that location is not the greatest so if you cannot call out, you would need to keep trying. It will eventually catch but uh, not to mind, as long it is attended is what matters, not when,” he says.  

“Mhm, that makes sense. Um, can I ask what the property is? Is it like a summer home or...” 

“Ah, family inheritance,” he answers primly. “I’ve not much use for it past the sentimental value and I thought of leasing it for traveling parties but I’ve heard horror stories. Right now, I’m merely sitting on it until I figure out exactly what to do with it.” 

“Oh, right. Wow. Quite the inheritance.” 

“Hm, yes, my uncle did rather adore me. I was the only one named in his will but he was a bit of a curmudgeon.” He laughs. “Now, I must ask the most important question--” 

Before he can, the door swings open and you jump in your seat. Your heart sinks. You signed the room out for ninety minutes. You thought it would be more than enough. Surely it hasn’t been that long. 

Shoot. It’s him. How did he find you? You deliberately went out of your way so that he couldn’t. 

“Jake,” you stand and turn to him, trying to block the computer. “What are you doing?” 

“There you are,” he touches his chest as if he should be the one so afraid. “You didn’t come home--” 

You growl and cross your arms. 

“Jake, go away,” you grit out. “Not right now. Please.” 

“I had to make sure you’re okay,” he steps into the room and you push yourself back against the table. “Who else is going to look after you?” 

“I will scream, alright,” you warn. “Now leave me alone. I’m tired of telling you.” 

He sighs and his jaw squares. “I don’t get you. You act like I’m such a bad guy and I haven’t done anything to you. I never hurt you but you hurt me. You just spit in my face--” 

“Pardon,” the voice rises from the speaker at your back. “If I may, she is occupied and you are interrupting. I have a mind to contact emergency service should you persist.” Your mouth falls open and you turn to look at your laptop. James leans forward to glare at the lens, “Not sure who you are, fellow, but the lady has been clear.” 

“Who-- who is he?” Jake sputters. 

“Please, just go,” you plead. “Or I will call the police.” 

Little good they will do, you think, but that doesn’t need to be said aloud. 

He frowns and his eyes glint dangerously. You stare back at him, tense, fingers curling and uncurling nervously. That man on the screen won’t stop him and you don’t know if anyone would hear you from the desk. 

“Fine, guess I’ll see ya around,” he relents and backs out. 

You don’t move until he snaps the door shut. You hurry over and twist the lock on the inside. You don’t know why you didn’t do that before. 

“Are you alright?” James asks, drawing you back to the desk. 

You sit and look at the keyboard, “I’m very sorry. I...” 

“He doesn’t sound like a friend,” James says. You shake your head. “Well, then, it does sound like you’re in need of a fresh start. I do hope this can be that for you.” 

You look up and bat away the glimmer on the brims of your eyes. You’re not just afraid, you’re embarrassed. His kindness is as comforting as it is unexpected. 

“Thanks, um, anyway...” you exhale, “you were going to ask something.” 

“Yes, uh, yes, I was,” he reconfigures and puts another smile on. “When can you depart? I would of course arrange travel to be sure you get here safe and sound.” 

“Oh, when... whenever is best. Not to be too desperate but as soon as possible,” you say. 

“Wonderful,” he praises, “absolutely wonderful. Is tomorrow too soon? Pardon my own desperation.” 

“Tomorrow?” You utter and shake your head. “Tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow.”  

It's sudden and scary but it’s good. The sooner you go, the less time Jake has to figure out what you’re doing. The less chance he can follow. It’s an escape. Not a perfect one but it’s all you have. 

🩸

You spend all night packing. You parse down what you have to the essentials and put the rest in bags. You don’t care about the furniture. You say as much in your email to your landlord, telling him to use your deposit for the disposal. 

You whittle your life down to three bags. A large suit case, a knapsack, and a single purse. You have it ready to go by the door. 

You feel uneasy about it. You stare at your luggage, the lights off, windows closed. Your phone buzzes and you put it to silent, ignoring the messages from your personal pest. You’ll be done with him too. You wonder if you should just toss your cell. 

You don’t sleep. You can’t. You still can’t believe you’re getting out. You hope you haven’t given the game away. 

There’s a tap on the window. You nearly roll onto the floor. You look over and hear it again, a harder impact. Are you serious? He’s throwing stones. He could break the damn glass. 

You shake your head. You won’t fall for it. Not again. You remember when he came to your door and cried until you opened up. He even smeared ketchup on his face to make you think he was hurt. It’s hard to tell the difference through a peephole. 

Almost there. Almost out. You just need to make it a few more hours. 

As you ignore the incessant tapping and the light of your phone glowing ever few minutes, your thoughts turn bitter. You should message everyone who turned their back on you and tell them exactly what they’ve put you through. Somehow, you think they’d care as much as they did before. 

Sleep eludes you but a foggy daze comes over you as the windows soften with the early morning. There’s no more pebbles bouncing off the pane. Just you and the buzz of the sleeping city. 

Your alarm chimes and you get up as your head pulses. You’re used to the constant fatigue. It will ease up and you’ll just feel a bit heavy. When it’s normal, you don’t notice as much. 

You get ready and have an instant coffee by the door. James messages just before nine. Your car will be there in ten. Oh, early. You don’t mind about that. 

You won’t go out and wait. You’ll stay here, where it’s safe. 

When your phone goes off again, you expect it to be Jake. It’s James. Whew. You’re so close, you can’t believe it. 

You grab your knapsack and purse, and drag your suitcase out behind you. You lock the door and throw the key through the mail slot. You hurry down the hall and take the stairs over the elevator.  

You don’t look back or anyway but forward. You look at your cell. 'Black Jaguar’ followed by a plate number. Jaguar? Holy moly. 

The tinted window rolls down and reveals the same face from the Zoom call. You didn’t know he was coming himself. You assumed he was sending a cab or something. You slow as you come out the door. He smiles and pops open the door. 

Before you can come forward, another figure appears, blocking your way. 

“Hey, I've been calling all night,” Jake says. You stop short and nearly yelp. Of course! 

“Jake, move.” 

“Where are you going?” He looks at your bags desperately. “Wait, you can’t--” 

“Pardon me, sir, is there some issue?” James strides up behind him. 

Jake turns to face him and stiffens, “and who are you—wait, you’re that guy from the computer.” 

“I’m none of your business, as is her life,” James insists. “Now, seems you’re used to picking on those smaller than you but let’s see how you do against me?” 

James steps closer. He’s a few inches taller than Jake. You can’t move as they stare each other down. You wait, expecting chaos. 

“I was only talking,” Jake shows his palms and shrugs. “It’s whatever. She’s a bitch anyways.” 

He turns and snarls over his shoulder at you. You back up. As Jake turns, he’s knocked off kilter as James hurls his fist into his jaw. The shorter man staggers and falls to one knee, catching himself in the grass. 

“Well, that was a lovely chat,” James smirks and beckons to you, “shall we?” 

[southtopaz]

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of violence, swearing, mention of death, Amber freeman x Fem reader, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.

Word count: +3k

A/n: the story will follow the events of Scream 5 and 6. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3

The drive to the hospital was filled with a heavy silence. Each person in the car was lost in their own thoughts, unsure of what to say or how to express their feelings. The air was thick with anxiety as they all braced themselves for the sight of their friend in whatever condition they might find her.

As they arrived to the hospital and made their way towards Tara's room, Iris's nerves began to intensify. Her footsteps slowed involuntarily, each step feeling heavier as they approached. She watched with a mix of apprehension and dread as her friends moved ahead and entered the room.

Meanwhile, Amber lingered beside her, casting a puzzled glance at Iris's hesitation.

"Are you okay babe?" She got closer to her girlfriend, squeezing her hand in a comforting manner.

"Yeah, it's just... I don't know how to feel about all of this". She sighed. "Should i go in there? I don't think Tara would want to see me".

Amber silently eyed the girl as she thought of what to say." We should get in there, she needs it after everything that happened". Iris has always admired Amber's empathy and she knew she was right. Tara might not be her best friend anymore but she was still Amber's.

Sometimes she would find herself lost in thought, pondering how her friendship with Tara might have unfolded if they did things differently.

After all, they had been friends with each other ever since they were six years old. They had shared countless memories, dreams and secrets that felt unbreakable. Yet, the reality was stark; things had changed. She struggled with the uncertainty of how to navigate their friendship now, especially after the events of two years ago that had created a rift between them. It was painful to realize that the deep connection they once shared, seemed almost unreachable now.

Despite the distance that had grown, her concern for Tara lingered, especially after the traumatic attack. She just wanted her to be safe.

As they entered the room, they heard Wes say, "You're up." Tara smiled at him, but her gaze quickly shifted to the door. She appeared taken aback when she saw Iris standing there.

"Hey guys, thank you for coming" she smiled softly at them.

"Of course, Tara," Iris said with a small smile. Tara's heart raced until she noticed Amber take Iris's hand and intertwine their fingers, causing her to look away.

The room had a calming, almost serene atmosphere. Privacy curtains, currently drawn back, framed the window, letting in just a sliver of sunlight that danced gently on the floor. A television mounted on the wall caught her attention, softly playing a nature documentary. Across from her was a side chair, now occupied by Amber who clutched into Tara's hand, worried for her best friend as she asked how she felt.

It hurt Iris to see Tara in a hospital bed looking so wounded up. She had a cast around her leg and a tube helping her with the oxygen. Iris's heart sank at the thought of how alone she must have felt and how she probably thought she was going to die at the hands of some psycho.

Tara must have sensed someone observing her closely, as she suddenly turned her gaze directly toward Iris. The two locked eyes, and for a moment, they just stared at each other, the emotional gap between them growing heavier. Observing the interaction, Amber placed her hand gently on her girlfriend's thigh, her thumb softly tracing circles.

They all keep each other company for a little bit longer when suddenly the door swung open. Iris's eyes widened as she saw Sam walk through the door alongside a brunette guy.

Sam immediately crouched beside her sister, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "How are you feeling?" She asked with genuine concern, her voice filled with worry.

"You came" Tara was just as surprised as everyone else.

"Of course I came" Sam replied, with a gentle smile in her face. She felt guilty that her own sister thought she wouldn't show up after getting stabbed but she didn't show it. "This is my boyfriend Richie".

"It's so nice to meet you. I'm so sorry if I'm intruding." Richie took a step closer to Tara and waved at her.

"Nice to meet you too" Tara smiled unsure, raising a hand.

"Thank you for calling". Sam told softly to Wes once she hugged him. "Look at your hair, I like it" they both shared a laugh, she then went around and hug all of her sister's friends.

"Hi Ris" she whispered softly into her hair after she pulled her into a tight hug. "I can't believe how tall you are right now"

Sam and Iris had always been close because of her friendship with Tara. The three of them would spend many hours together, watching movies and playing games, with Sam always making sure both of them were well taken care of. Sam was also the first person Iris confided in when she realized she was bisexual, stepping into the role of the big sister she never had. This relationship had been so important in Iris's life until everything shifted out of nowhere when Sam decided to leave without a word to anyone.

Seeing Sam now, Iris felt a surge of emotion and instinctively pulled her into a tight hug. "It's so good to see you, Sam," she said, her voice trembling with longing. The embrace was more than just a gesture; it was a deep need for comfort and connection that Iris had been missing.

Sam walked back to her boyfriend and introduced him to everyone. "These are Chad and Mindy, the twins, Wes and Iris. I used to babysit them all". They all sent a wave towards him.

"Which is always how I like to be introduced". Wes joked lightly.

"And Amber, hey". Sam akwardly greeted her, they never had much of a bond. Amber always seemed to dislike her for some reason.

"Hi nice to see you" Amber told her but everyone knew she didn't mean it. Sam glanced at her, then her eyes fell to the sight of her hand clasped with Iris's. She was taken aback by the sight and quickly took a glance at her sister. When she thought about what would happen when she saw this people again, she never thought Amber would be the one to date Iris.

"H-hi, I'm Richie" he smiled nervously. That alone made Iris raise her eyebrows, she put a hand around Amber's shoulder and pulled her close to her, bringing a smile to the girl.

"Where's mom?" Sam asked her sister, finally noticing the absence of their parent.

"She's stuck at a conference in London. She called me earlier". Tara explained and Amber scoffed in disbelief. "Yeah for all 10 minutes". No one knew what to say, Tara's and Sam's mom was certainly not winning mother of the year award.

"Look guys, Tara's really tired. Maybe we should just give her some space".

"Not you Sam, I want you to stay". Tara called out to her sister when she noticed her trying to leave the room too.

Chad, Mindy and Wes all said their goodbyes and turned to leave the room. Richie stood by the door waiting for Amber and Iris to leave too.

"If it's okay with you, I could sleep here tonight" Sam suggested unsure of her sister reaction, she knew they had a lot of things to talk about.

"I'd really like that". Tara smiled weakly at her and Sam reciprocated it. Iris felt herself smiling too watching both girls having a moment of peace.

Amber asked Tara if she had her extra inhaler and once she said yes, Amber tugged Iris along as she tried to walk through the door, but Iris held back and crouched down beside Tara to squeeze her hand hesitantly. She could feel Tara sharp intake of breath as she squeezed harder. She didn't know what came into her but she couldn't leave the room without showing some kind of support to Tara.

"I'm glad you're okay, I got really scared for you". Iris couldn't meet her eye but as she felt Tara's intense gaze on her, she found herself wanting to take a glimpse.

"Don't worry, I'm basically inmmortal at this point". They both laughed weakly at Tara's attempt of joking. "I didn't know if you were going to come and visit".

"You think I wouldn't have?" She was a little hurt Tara would think that, though she couldn't really blame her, the last time they a have had a real conversation that lasted more than 10 minutes was 2 years ago when they were still friends.

Tara ignored the question and gave her hand a tiny squeeze. "I'm glad you did, thank you". They stared at each other for a few more seconds before they felt Amber clearing her throat. "Baby let's leave so they can talk"

Iris gave Tara a final smile and then left the room with her girlfriend. "You okay love?"

"Are you?" Amber asked her in a serious tone, it threw Iris off guard.

"I think so?"

"Okay, let's go, the other just texted, they are heading to the bar". They walked through the hallway together and left the hospital, leaving Iris feeling confused. She couldn't quite grasp why Amber appeared so upset, but she chose to brush it off. Amber had always reacted this way whenever she saw them talking, so Iris decided not to dwell on it, assuming it was probably nothing important.

—————————————

"So, what's she like, the sister?" Liv asked as she leaned against the pool table, her eyes fixed on the game between Chad and Iris. The latter subtly moved the position of a ball that would make her have an advantage over Chad when he wasn't looking and shot Liv a wink, gesturing for her to keep quiet.

Liv gave her a playful smile and turned to pay attention to her boyfriend.

"Sam? She's so cool". Chad happily answered.

"You only say that beacuse she let you and Iris wear Pokemon onesies to bed for a year" Mindy replied making everyone laugh.

Iris exaggeratedly placed a hand over her chest in mock offense, playing up the moment as if she were deeply hurt. Now Chad's turn to play, he glanced at the table with a puzzled expression, his gaze darting around as he tried to locate the red ball. He was slightly bewildered, as he could have sworn that the ball had been in plain view just moments ago.

"Pokemon onesies? Me? I would never" Mindy gave her a knowing look, while Amber shook her head with laughter.

"Ambs, baby, don't listen to them alright? They are trying to ruin my reputation"

"What reputation bro? That disappeared the moment you fell off the school benches because you were watching Amber do acrobatics in a skirt". Mindy couldn't pass up the opportunity to make fun of her best friend, sue her.

"Omg baby that's so embarrassing, I thought you said you got dizzy" Amber playfully told her with a cute glint in her eyes.

"I got dizzy by your hotness cutie" she jokily winked at her, making everyone at the table groan with disgust.

"Don't call me cutie" Amber pretended to be mad as Iris planted a kiss in her head.

"You're right babe, you're a bad bitch". Iris put a hand around her waist and turned to look at her friends. "Me and the baddie I pulled by being a virgin, look at me Wes it's still possible for you".

They all laughed except for Wes who flipped a finger at her, calling her a bitch.

"Going back to Sam, trust me she is not cool" Amber brought back the conversation to Sam, explaining why she was a terrible sister. "Her dad left her mom, right? Walks right out when Tara's eight and Sam's thirteen. So Sam started acting out, getting in trouble with cops and then, on Sam's eighteenth birthday, she leaves".

Iris flickered her eyes towards her girlfriend, they both knew this but for some reason, Amber sounded more hateful. She knew what Sam did was wrong but she couldn't hate on the woman without actually knowing the reason she disappeared. She knew Sam, and if she left, it was because she thought it was better for Tara. She had a lot of things to say but she didn't want Sam to be the reason she fought with her girlfriend, so she shut up and continued focusing on the stripped blue ball she had been trying to put in the hole for the past 5 minutes.

"Ghosts them all". Amber shares a little bit of Vodka with her friends. No one was supposed to drink alcohol as they were just 18 but they always managed to hide some in a flask.

"Maybe Sam has changed but I just don't want to see Tara hurt again."

"So what, you're protecting Tara from her own sister?" Wes questioned her.

"She's not saying that Wes, but what if Sam leaves again? I don't think she will but if it happens then Tara is going to be hurt and we don't want that". Iris interjected trying to calm the waters between those two, with everything that had been going she didn't need her friends to fight each other.

"You don't want that? That's rich coming from you". Wes muttered in response.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it, so no guys are good enough for her, and now her family's off limits too?" Wes turned his attention back to Amber, scoffing at the girl.

"Mmm, motive!" Mindy spoke up, causing everyone to look at her. She leaned on her pool stick as she glanced at the boy. "If I can't have her, no one can"

"What?"

"We all know you have a crush on Tara," Mindy announced, and as everyone around them nodded in agreement, Iris was taken aback. She had been completely unaware of this detail. It seemed that in her attempts to avoid any direct interaction with Tara, she had missed out on some crucial information. What else did she not know?

"Alright, come on, Mindy," the boy retorted with irritation. "So what, am I suspect now because you think I have a crush on her? Does that make Iris a suspect too?" The mention of Iris's name, along with the words "crush" and "Tara," made her stiffen. Amber's gaze turned fiercely toward Wes, her expression so intense it was as if she were plotting something drastic. Her grip on her flask tightened, causing her knuckles to turn white with the force.

"Don't bring me into the conversation Hicks, I have nothing to do with that". she said, her irritation evident. She was frustrated with the boy, upset with her friends for not speaking up, and angry at herself for letting the comment get under her skin.

"Well you had a crush on her before"

"Shut up dude that was a million years ago".

"Know your place Wes, that's my girlfriend you're talking about". Amber angrily scoffed at the boy, enough to make him shut up.

"But we're all suspects," Mindy pointed out, prompting everyone to exchange glances as if they were only now considering this possibility. Chad lift his glass in a casual salute towards his sister. The air was thick with contemplation as everyone weighed the implications of Mindy's observation.

"Except maybe Liv".

"Thank you" Liv smiled as she thought it was a compliment.

"You're way too boring to be a psycho" Mindy finished her thoughts and Iris snorted on her drink. Liv looked at them both and flipped her finger at them.

"Hey don't look at me, she's the bitch" Iris said, pointing her stick at Mindy, who playfully nudged her in the side. In moments like these, when they were joking around and laughing with her friends, it was hard for Iris to believe that one of them could be involved in the attacks, targeting people. Her thoughts drifted back to her sister. She couldn't recall much about her, except for those times when she would have a nightmare and Olivia would come to her room, curling up beside her and singing soothing songs until Iris fell asleep peacefully in her sister's arms. Olivia never knew her two friends were behind all the attacks, she also never knew she was murdered in her own room by one of them. Iris likes to think it's better that way, to just not know, she couldn't imagine what she would do if one of her friends was behind it all. She would go insane.

Suddenly someone called out to them. "Yo Liv, want a real drink?" Vince shouted from a few meters away. "Or are you happy sitting at this kid's table?" The creep chuckled as he kept getting closer to them.

"Listen up, Uglier Michael Myers, it was a summer fling. It meant nothing". Chad went to him trying to defend his girlfriend.

"Was I talking to you?" Vince asked clenching his hand. "I don't fucking care who you're talking to" Chad shouted in his face.

Vince tried talking to Liv one more time before Chad got in his face. "Don't you fucking talk to her".

"Shut the fuck up" Vince pulled out a pocket knife out of nowhere and moved menacingly towards Chad. Iris quickly shoved Vince away from her friend causing his grip on the knife to falter.

"Get the fuck out of here dude" Vince attempted to advance toward her as well, but when he took a closer look at her, his demeanor changed. "Well, sweetheart, you can join me if you want," he said, trying to sound flirty. "There's no need for us to fight."

"Call me sweetheart one more time and I'll kill you" she muttered defiantly as she moved closer to Vince, undeterred by the knife he held. Just as Vince was about to respond, Chad quickly stepped in, grabbing her firmly and positioning himself between her and Vince. He shielded her from any potential threat, making sure that Vince couldn't reach her or cause any harm.

"Hey!" A bartender yells. "Get out of here before I call the cops"

Iris felt a firm grip on her arm and turned to see Amber's face contorted with anger. They quickly followed their friends as they exited the bar, coming to a halt once they were outside, letting the rest of the group walk without them.

"What the fuck were you thinking huh?" Amber demanded, her voice rising in frustration. "That fucker could have seriously hurt you, and for what?"

"He was threatening Chad," Iris tried to explain, but before she could say more, Amber moved closer, grasping both of Iris's arms tightly. Her eyes were fierce with rage. "I don't give a shit about Chad right now," Amber said urgently. "I don't want you putting yourself in unnecessary danger, do you understand? He could have really hurt you, and that's all I care about".

Amber was right. Iris hadn't intended to upset her, but her anger had clouded her judgment. "You're right, I'm sorry," she admitted, her voice tinged with remorse. Amber gradually loosened her grip and pulled Iris into a tight embrace.

"I just don't want to see you hurt," Amber said softly, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're all that matters to me." She gently tucked a strand of hair behind Iris's ear and pressed a tender kiss to her temple. Then, leaning down, she placed a gentle kiss on Iris's lips. Iris sighed softly into the kiss, her hands cradling Amber's face while Amber's arms wrapped around her waist. The kiss lingered until they both needed to break away for air. They parted, their foreheads resting against each other, sharing a quiet, intimate moment.

"Don't worry, he wasn't going to hurt me."

"But if he did I would've destroyed him"

"Hot but it won't be necessary". Iris gently intertwined their hands and they started to walk together to the car.

"Amber baby, aren't you forgetting something?" She playfully asked her as she got into the passenger seat, they loved to play that game.

"I love you"

"I love you too" she happily sighed into her girlfriend's space. "Now kiss me again".

[gothamite-rambler]

Ra's Al Ghul: Behold, my new man cave!

Ra's stepped aside, revealing a space that gave off an ominous vibe, more reminiscent of a dark cavern than a relaxed hangout spot. Skulls of animals and humans adorned the walls, bookshelves filled with spell books towered in the corners, couches still wrapped in plastic beckoned untouchably, and a flat-screen TV was mounted among a collection of other macabre items.

Duke (unnerved to his soul): Oh hell nah!

Duke tried to escape the unsettling ambiance, but Tim grabbed him, pulling him back. Duke pouted, grumbling about the demon cave.

Ra's (slightly offended): What? You people always talk about caves and hangout spots. This is that. I wanted you to have that place when you visit... here. I say with massive reluctance.

Damian walked further into the cave and looked around, then nodded to approve the cave.

Damian: Huh... This is nice. I like it.

Ra's (appreciative): Th—thank you, grandchild. I wasn’t expecting positive input from you.

Damian (nonchalantly): Nah, it’s cool, it fits you. Is that a cryptid resting in the corner?

Ra's: Yeah, it’s a half-cat, half-fox creature I found. You can pet him if you want.

Damian eagerly ran over to pet the cat-fox, with Duke reluctantly following, keeping his distance from Ra's, who he still viewed as "satan."

Ra's: Why does he keep treating me like I'm the devil?

Jason (walking past): You kind of are.

Dick: Um, this is nic—That'd be a lie. This is interesting to be in and I'm impressed you put this much effort into the set up. We can hang out for a minute and then leave.

Tim: You're not going to poison us or trade us to the Court of Owls, are you?

Ra's: I won't! Because Talia will kill me again if I do. Everything is safe to drink and touch. Pl—ple—please just try the place out... I'm being nice! Let me do this.

Dick and Tim exchanged unsure glances but shrugged it off, stepping into the man cave. Ra's sighed, shaking his head as he closed the door to the unconventional hangout. He had promised Talia and Bruce he’d do one nice thing for his grandson and his brothers before the end of the year, and although it slightly pained him to do so, he couldn’t deny that seeing his grandson happy made him feel a little better.

[lale-txt]

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 (𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟏: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤

♫ Soap&Skin - Safe With Me

No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me No love can be safe with me

✰ 𝐜𝐰: slightly suggestive themes in both SMAU & written portions

⭅ back to m.list

He kissed you once.

You’re sure he remembers it. You wish he wouldn’t.

Sometimes, when Akaashi is deeply focused on capturing every shape of you in coal and ink, he’d get this expression that makes you want to cry; a deep loneliness that’s hidden so deep down you’d scrape your fingertips trying to dig it up. It’s too familiar, like looking down the bottomless pond of his soul, dead water luring you in. 

Sitting model for a bunch of spoiled rich art students has been by far the easiest job you ever had. You didn’t mind getting undressed for them; a body is just that–a body, a temporary home for your soul, a shield you carry with grace and the air of a silent threat. A few hours, three times a week, getting on the pedestal in the classroom like a fallen goddess climbing up the stairs to Mount Olympus to claim her rightful throne. Sitting, standing, lying down, it’s you who dictates how you want to be perceived that day, how you’ll allow them to lay their eyes on you, like an offering. They’re not chipping away from you, some of them don’t even see you. 

But Akaashi does. 

Love drunk. Longing. Lonely. 

At times he feels like a cat, pawing at the window of your soul, begging to be let in. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for. Every now and then you think about letting him catch a glimpse, just enough to scare him away, so he’d stop looking at you with those sad eyes of his. To prove him that you’re nothing like the version of yourself that he sculpted in his mind. 

You’re not sure why you keep agreeing when he asks you to sit for him in the evening hours. It’s for the money, you tell yourself. Everyone who goes to this university must be well off, so you don’t feel too bad taking whatever absurd sum they’re offering to you to pose for a few more hours after regular classes. 

It’s always the same, like a dance you memorize each and every step to. You know your way around this campus, having been here countless times and at different departments, but even after three years Akaashi would wait for you by the huge iron gate, leaning against the red brick wall and mindlessly fidgeting with his fingers, almost as if they’re itching to create something to calm his nervous system. He’s there, no matter the season or weather. It’s a ten minute walk from the gate to the east wing where his private atelier is at, and every time he already has a lighter in the pocket of shirt and a perfectly rolled cigarette behind his ear prepared for you. Sometimes, when you lean in to light it, his hands would tremble slightly when he cups the small flame to shield it from the wind for you.

Most of the time you do the talking–about new releases you got at the record store, any upcoming live shows you managed to get a guest list entry for, or whatever movie you watched the other day. Akaashi listens intently, his eyes always pinned on the path in front of you, only occasionally stealing a side glance at you, almost as if he’s saving those up for when the door of his atelier closes behind you two. 

You still remember what his lips tasted like. A sweet oblivion, paired with the gentle caress of his palms against your face, so soft it made you want to cry more than you already did that night. Like a forbidden fruit offered to you on a silver platter. 

The east wing of the uni building feels pretty abandoned and eerie quiet at times. You learned that all students were granted their own ateliers and the sculpting department had the bad luck of being assigned to what they call the catacombs, even though the rooms were on the second floor and not below surface. It’s probably thanks to the ancient hallways with the dark bricks and broken stained glass windows–once magnificent, today barely a shadow of what they once were. No matter the season, it was always cold here, too.

Akaashi’s atelier is a stark contrast to this. The high ceilings are plastered with sketches and notes, some polaroids of his friends, too. Blocks of clay and marble are scattered across the floor, some wooden blocks too, as if he needed every single material of the world to convey the story he wants to tell with his art. There’s an omamori from when they all visited the shrine for New Year’s together next to some dried flowers that you recognize from one of Yukie’s projects a few semesters ago. A dozen blankets are draped over the chaise lounge by the big window, the one where you usually take your position. In one corner stands a decorative paper screen that he put up for you to get changed behind, as if he didn’t spend hours studying every dip and curve of your body once you step out from behind it.

It feels homey and cozy. You hate to admit that.

Sometimes you’d stay here till past midnight. Akaashi lets you play your music over the small portable speaker while his pen scratches over the paper, his eyes darting back and forth between the sketchbook in his lap and your bare figure standing still for him. He never touches you when he asks you to shift your pose, his slender hands only ghosting over your skin, like a puppeteer pulling your strings. It feels almost reverent. He also never comments on the blemishes of your skin, the love bites and scratches and hickeys, but you can tell that he notices them, his eyes darkening for a split second before he’s back to his usual, calm composure.

At times you’d study his hands–his flawless, tender hands which look as if they never had to do dirty work even once–and you wonder how they’d feel wrapped around your throat, a quiet “Please” on the tip of your tongue.

“Have you thought about the theme of your final assignment yet?”, you ask, a cigarette dangling from your lips as you smoke by the open window. The blanket draped around your shoulders is warm and heavy, the material feels expensive. The ornamental carpet you’re standing on is one Akaashi got for you when he noticed how you shivered and shifted from one foot to the other during your cigarette breaks. You blow out a mouthful of smoke towards the night sky and look over to him. For someone as put together as him, with his dark green linen pants and the black button up shirt, his hair was always a bit unkempt, barely contained by his glasses pushed up into it. 

“Phantom pain.”

His voice is quiet, almost not audible, but his gaze feels like it could spark a thousand small fires inside of you if you let him.

He kissed you once. 

Your heart still aches from it. 

•┈••✦ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

Problem Child Records has an attached rehearsal room which local bands can use for free (or in exchange for tickets to their upcoming shows)

the sofa in there has seen to many things (Issei and y/n are the biggest culprits)

Kunimi already has some practice in taking y/n's makeup off, she lets him do it whenever he sleeps over at the Ukai-Takeda househould and they do sheet masks together afterwards

Ukai & Takeda are high school volleyball coaches in this universe too and whenever they're off for training camps or tournaments, the remaining four are in charge of the store (usually Kiyoko is handling things best)

Akaashi doesn't smoke but he knows how to roll a mean cigarette (Kuroo taught him)

we bless Yukie for her service (putting pretty men in lingerie)

i haven't decided who the Semi's drummer in question is yet and i'm taking suggestions in the comments

•┈••✦ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@wyrcan @spacekedi @kentocalls @hhoneyhan @walllflowerrrsss

@rory-cakes @jaynawayna @zq13

taglist open! dm/ask/comment to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[peachshadows]

With lmk s5 finally released i promised ya'll that i would post a chapter of scum villain rip off so here it is! Just a bit of context this is basically where Wukong gets trapped under the mountain leaving Macaque to rule alone in FFM with an appearance of Erlang Shen.

---

“Y’know, monkey, your very existence annoys me.” He leans against the cavern wall, nonchalantly looking at his nails as if that was more interesting than being choked by hot coal.

Wukong spits out the burning coal. He honestly lost count how many times his throat and tongue practically melted and regenerated. Over and over and over again. It was torture. But not as torturous as talking with Erlang Shen. “Tell me something I don't know.”

Erlang Shen lets out a serene smile as if he remembered something fond and that alone makes him want to spit the coal at his stupid face. “Well then, would you like to hear about how our dear Macaque is faring?”

Hearing Macaque’s name made all the noises in his head go quiet. Just hearing his moonlight name was enough to soothe him like a calming balm on his soul but what frankly canceled it out was Macaque’s name coming out of the shameless god’s mouth. 

“…Macaque?” He whispered brokenly, his throat reforming itself.

“Yes, yes. He’s been so stressed lately.” Erlang Shen turns to finally face him, a cruel smirk dancing on his face. “Taking over a kingdom can be quite taxing but don’t worry he’s in safe hands, better hands than your bloodied demonic claws-”

“Do NOT touch him,” he snarls at the god because how dare he? How dare he touch someone that was his to take care of, his to love and devote his entire being to. How dare this second rate being have the audacity to even mess what’s his. 

Erlang Shen laughs, high and mighty; cruel and cold. “And what are you gonna do? Defeat me? If anything, this great one is doing you a favor.” 

If he could, he would’ve already punched the living shit out of the god. Alas, he’s stuck under a mountain where he doesn’t even get the luxury of seeing the sun. But, he does get the unfortunate luxury of talking with Erlang Shen. So he tries to even his breathing. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Do you really need this great one to spell out for you, Great Sage?” The god spits his title like it was something disgusting. “He’s happy, joyous now that you’re gone.”

“You lie-”

“And why would this great one lie? You’ve been nothing but a nuisance, a hindrance to him.” Erlang Shen gets closer, slamming both of his hands above Wukong, baring his teeth as if he’s some demon and not a powerful deity. “Your greed, your lust for power drove Macaque into a corner where he was left with a decision of either sacrificing his idiotic friend or have the rest of your people be slaughtered. And he chose smartly.”

His first instinct was disbelief, a cruel joke that the god is telling him. But the more that Erlang Shen spoke, the more he’s painted a picture of Macaque, smiling freely and unboundedly, with all the citizens of Mount Huaguo at his side, and the worst part, he can clearly see Erlang Shen beside Macaque as the two make a powerful beautiful duo. A match made in heaven. Who else can deserve Macaque but a powerful high ranking god?  

“…He chose you.” 

The god smirks at his defeated figure before summoning his spear. “Goodbye, Sun Wukong. I have more important matters to deal with.”

And finally leaves the False Sage Equal to Nothing in a burst of light. 

And if the earth could hear him, they would’ve heard his screams of anguish and anger practically shake the mountain. 

—

It’s been 502 years since Wukong’s imprisonment, or rather his supposed “death,” and Macaque knows by now that his king is already on his journey, gathering as much power and maidens in his grasp as he can before he reaches back to Mount Huaguo. He can’t help but feel a pang of dread at the thought of Wukong returning. 

There was no turning back. No amount of kindness and servitude can save him from his inevitable death by Wukong’s hands. 

He kneels for however long right before where the staff–his king’s rightful staff–used to lay as he mulls over his options now. Could he escape? No, that would just lead to death as well. Maybe, he can beg for mercy? No, that wouldn’t make sense with Macaque’s character. Maybe, he could-

“Mihou-shixiong, there you are.” He turns to see Rin Rin in all her soft glory, gripping her hands in a nervous manner. The absence of Wukong must’ve really gotten to her if he could practically see the worry affecting her usually cheerful face. 

“Rin Rin,” he says softly, standing from his kneeled position as he approaches her. “How are you? I know Wukong’s absence has been affecting us all but-”

She shakes her head. “Not as much as it's affecting you, Shixiong. We’re all worried for you.”

Affecting him? Of course it has been affecting him, he will soon die a painful death, Rin Rin!

“You barely draw anymore. You go outside only to visit Wukong’s shrine. And you only accept visitors when it's the Generals or Erlang Shen. At least let Qi Xiaotian accompany you. I know you two have gotten close over the past centuries and he understands the pain you’re going through.”

That stuns him quite a bit. She’s not exactly wrong…He has stopped drawing ever since Wukong’s imprisonment but who can honestly blame him? Seeing the protagonist draw was an inspiring thing and without that, it just felt silly to continue on without him. He does only visit Wukong’s shrine but only because it was the only quiet place where no one would disturb him. Ever since Macaque was crowned as regent king, beings of Mount Huaguo always sought him out for solutions of problems or even just so they could stare at him and whisper behind his back. It was humiliating being the center of attention. It’s quite frankly the first time Macaque ever got nervous in front of people. So he hid. Only ever allowing General Liu, Erlang Shen, the General, Rin Rin, and MK to visit him. 

But he doesn’t voice those thoughts out, instead he returns to kneel in front of the empty shrine and continue on as if Rin Rin isn’t there. 

He hears Rin Rin let out a sigh filled with frustration, but instead of leaving, she kneels along with him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Hopefully, Wukong doesn’t find out about Rin Rin needing a shoulder to cry on or else…he shudders thinking about the many ways Macaque gets tortured. 

“Your sworn brothers are asking for you,” she mumbles.

“...What do they want?” he eventually asks.

“You’re needed at their kingdom.”

“Can’t I just ignore them?”

She snorts quietly. A small smile formed on her face. “It’s urgent, Macaque.”

It must be really serious if she’s calling him by his name and not by his title. So with a great sigh, he reluctantly says, “Fine. Gather some disciples and get General Liu to accompany me.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Breathe me in

requested: Can you please write a story where Azriel saves reader from drowning. +I added a little mission and reader being a badass.

warning: drowning, blood, injuries.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As you made your way through the never-ending wall of rain, you started to wonder why all of you insisted that it was a great idea to continue the mission Rhys had given you today. The high lord warned you about the potential storm, and even if he didn't, you only needed to give the sky a look to know that it was bad news. But you went on with it, and now that your clothes were fully drenched, you wondered why you agreed after all.

Cassian was way ahead with Nesta. Even if the rule was to keep the Illyrian wings glamoured at all times, the general still had his wing stretched over his mate. Somewhat protecting her from the wind and shower. Azriel offered the same thing to you, but you refused it instantly. Even if it was silly. You liked him too much, and sitting so close to him felt too intimate, even if his body warmth would keep your teeth from clacking against each other. Sometimes you wondered if there was a possibility that he liked you too. You have known him for some time now. The girls constantly told you that you were just oblivious to the signs, but all of his gestures always seemed friendly, never like something more. You pulled yourself out of your head the moment your horse came to a halt.

 "What's wrong, boy?", you asked softly, even if you could name at least five things that were wrong at this particular moment. You rubbed the mount's neck, trying to see ahead. Your heart sank a little when your eyes didn't land on the shadow of Nesta and Cass in front of you or Azriel, who at all times kept to your left. "Guys!", you shouted worryingly, yet your voice died down. Washed away by the sound of rain. "Azriel", your heart started to beat faster with every passing second, "If you are just messing with me, it's not funny."

Yet you knew they wouldn't do that. Especially not now. But you needed to give yourself something. Anything before you lost yourself to the panic. You gently nudged the horse to move forward again. The shield of water only seemed to increase, completely blocking your view of what was around you. You tried to scream out for your friends again, but it got you nowhere. Only resulting in more and more frustration. You were about to scream for Azriel once again when someone launched full force into your side, sending you out of the saddle and onto the dirty ground.

Your head hit the surface, making your vision blur for a moment. Just enough to see your horse disappearing into the distance, startled by the attack. Attack. You tried to turn your head to the side, seeing a group of what you assumed to be males standing over you. One of them kneeled closer to you. Even from under the hood, you could see his smug face. Unfortunately for him, you didn't love when people looked at you like that, so you quickly inched your leg up, and kicked it right at his face.

That would have given you the upper hand to escape, but you only got a couple of feet from them, before multiple sets of hands snatched you once again, followed by the blade to your neck, "You pull any more stunts and I'll gut you from the inside out." You squirmed in their hold anyway. You were not going to go down without a fight. But your attempts got cut short when someone launched another blow to the back of your head, and everything went black.

Azriel was both: worried and slightly pissed when you refused to ride with him. Firstly, he didn't want you to get sick. And your "I'm a big girl" attitude was getting on his nerves slightly, especially when your health was involved. And secondly, he selfishly wanted to hold you close to him. Have a reason to do so. He just wanted to feel his warmth surrounding you. To know at any given moment you were safe. This rain clouded his senses as well. He felt more distressed and uneasy, so trying to ensure that all of you were safe was a task in itself.

The shadow singer turned his head your way. He tried to limit those glances at you because he knew that every one of them was edging you closer and closer to snapping at him for being too overprotective. But when his eyes didn't fall on your frame, his heart nearly stopped. Azriel turns his head to look behind him, hoping that you had just fallen behind the group, but no. No sign of you. The spymaster shouted for Cassian to stop. Riding back a little as he called your name frantically, "Where the fuck are you?", he mutters under his breath. "Let's go further back, maybe she got separated," but then the darker shadow inches closer, and Azriel pulls out his truth-teller. It was a horse. And Azriel almost wanted to let out a breath of relief until he saw an empty saddle. His shadows swirling around it. All the color drained from his face as the spymaster turned to the general, "She got attacked. They've got her."

You're thankful that they at least dragged you to what you believed was their camp. That sheltered you from the rain, and even if your wet clothes didn't fully let your body warm up, it was better than nothing. Your hands were chained in front of you, alongside your legs. With the right amount of motivation, you could probably escape but this was the male you were sent after. 

"Pretty poor look for the thief lord if you'd ask me", you snarled as the male, who you assumed was in the lead of this group, stepped into the room. A few of his men inched closer, but he brushed them away. "My apologies that it doesn't meet your standards, my lady," he says as he reaches for your face, but you move your face out of his reach, "I'd rather entertain rats than you."

The thief lord grits his teeth as he falls to the chair directly opposite you. "You're full of yourself. What makes you feel like I won't just chop you to pieces?", you let out a bitter laugh before gazing right at him. "Ever heard of a shadow singer? The spymaster of the night court?", you drag your words out like a melody. The male's face pales slightly. Of course, he had. Was there a soul on this earth that didn't know of his cruel ways? "Well, I know that if something happens to me here, he will drain your body dry, and enjoy every second of it." Now it's his turn to laugh, yet you can feel the fear lingering deep down.

"I know you've been tracking me down," "Oh, look, you are aware of some things," you tease back, but that earns you a slap on your face, even if it's not the hardest of punches. The rings with rubies and other stones make quite a mark on your face. "Listen to me, you little bitch; you answer my questions now, and I have many." Taking a fistful of your hair, he lifts your head, and you can feel the blood running down your cheek. "Let's start with what your high lord wants with me", "You're wasting your questions. Cause you already know the answer, and if you don't, you are an absolute fool", another slap, and this time it's your neck his fingers move to. 

"Where are the others who came with you?" His voice was firm, but you couldn't help yourself from grinning. "Dancing on your grave." The male lets out a frustrated growl before turning away from you. At this moment, you knew one thing and one thing only. You needed to drag this out as long as you possibly could. To give Azriel enough time to find you because he was going to find you. He always did. Even if the world was falling to pieces, he would find you. "Bring her to the shore," the lord barked out after making up his mind. A shiver ran down your back, "We're going to use some of the older methods."

The rain outside had lessened, yet the drops fell colder somehow. At the sound of the water running, it hits you. This explains the enormous fog. There's a huge river here. Two of the thieves have a firm grip on you as they push down on your knees. The sharp rocks and pebbles cut into your skin. "How do you feel about a little dive?", the lord asks you, smirking sheepishly. "All in if you join me," you bite back, but the male just points a finger, and your face is under the icy water in the blink of an eye. Considering that that came as a surprise, you barely got any air, causing you to trash in the holds of the two males as you tried to lift your head.

When they finally do, you are gasping for air, feeling as if you were on fire. The stinging in your head from the icy cold water causes your head to pump. "Now you get the rules. If you answer incorrectly, you will go down under. The more I don't like your answer, the longer you will be in the water," he says, yet now all you care about is that you are out in the open, which gives your friends an easier opportunity to find you. "So, what does Rhys know about the rubies?", the thief lord brushes some of the wet hair away from your face, but with one crooked smile, you spit right at his face, "Suck your own dick", you bark out and you know what's coming next.  Yet it's not even a slight bit less shocking. The feeling of someone firmly pressing your face in the running water. The tide of the water made it hard to keep any oxygen in your lungs since the water seemed to pour into your nose. Then you're dragged back out, gagging up the water in your system.

"I'm giving you one last chance to redeem yourself, pretty face," his fingers tangle in between your hair as he turns you his way. "What does he know?", "That you don't have them," the thief lord's face shifts. Confusion is all over it. "Sorry, I'll make it more understandable for your dumb brain. You left them alone in the camp without supervision and came here to have fun with me," rage fills his eyes as he orders his men to return to the camp, "You will pay for this, cunt." His pushing you under feels different, and you can tell that he is not messing around. Your face is practically hitting the bottom rocks as he keeps your head in the water. However, his other hand comes to your neck, and he presses so hard that you can't help but open your mouth as you let all the air out of your lungs, letting the water pour in. You start to thrash around as the fear of actually dying runs through your brain. Ultimate panic sets in, and all of your logic senses turn off.

Nesta had the rubies as she darted away from the camp, and Azriel takes to the skies alongside Cassian. The plan wasn't like this, but the moment they stormed the camp and found your handprint on the box, they knew exactly what it was and that you had left a clue for them, knowing full well that they were going to find you. The feeling in Azriel's chest was telling him that something was seriously wrong, and when his shadows came screaming at him about the water, he went into full madness mode. The sight of your head under the water and the thief lord holding you down practically made him want to roar. Cassian was the first to throw a dagger that pierced through the male's right arm. He let go of you partially, but your head stayed under. The moment he sees the two males, he drags your body up before holding you in front of himself and using you as a shield.

You let out a tiny gasp but then slumped in his arms. Azriel was seeing red, but pulling out weapons now was dangerous. "You make a move, and I'll drop her into the river", the thief lord threatened. "You've lost Albert; hand her over, and you might walk out of this alive," Cassian said in a warning tone. He was well aware that Azriel was in a primal male form now. Primal mate form. Knowing very well that the bond had snapped for Azriel a while back, his brother just kept it a secret, knowing that he was as stupid as you and had convinced himself that you felt nothing for him in return.

"What is my gain? I walk out of this alive, and Hybern will kill me for the rubies", the lord steps closer to the edge, "She's your girl isn't she?", the male nods his head towards Azriel. The spymaster's jaw nearly splits in half. "She promised me a slow death from you if she gets hurt", "I will make you regret that you were born", Azriel snarls through gritted teeth, but the lord only laughs, turning his face to you. He shakes your body a little, pushing two things down your throat, and you almost immediately choke out the water that's been in your lugs, saying, "Here you are; you were missing all the fun." Albert presses his face into your neck as you still gulp down the air. Eyes falling on Azriel, and he's practically falling to his knees at how small and pale you look. But at least you're breathing. That's all he needs to know now.

"I'm sad I didn't have more time with her; I'm sure she'd be capable of a lot," the male kisses your neck, and this time Azriel tosses the dagger right between his eyes, but it misses the lord. The male spins you out of his arms and into the freezing river as the tide takes you down the river lane.

The sensation of water dragging you down makes your skin burn. You tried to pull yourself out, but every little breath you managed to take in was met with yet another wave crashing down on you. But you crawl your way back up; you need to. For Azriel, you need to tell him. You can't die without letting him know. You manage to keep your hands above the water as another wave moves over your hand, and that's when you feel it. Warm fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and then you're out of the water and up in the air. Azriel had caught on to you while soaring over the river. "Hang tight," he whispers as his other hand clasped over your second wrist. You could almost cry at the feeling of him being there as he lowers you to the grass.

You got the rest of the water out of your system, and before you can even get a breath in, Azriel's arms are around your body as he presses you closer to him. You can hear his heart beating under your ear. It's racing so fast. So fast that this can't be healthy. You pull away from him slightly, "I knew you would come", the spymaster shakes his head. Eyes falling over the cuts on your cheek. "I thought I lost you. Multiple times," "You saved me, Az."

The spymaster notices your shaking frame and carefully lets go of you before ripping his jacket open and wrapping it over you, pulling you close to him once again. Your ice-cold skin melted into his warmth. "You get yourself sick," you mumble, causing Azriel to snort, "I will get sick? You've been under that water all this time, and you're worried about me being sick?"

With a couple of breaths, Azriel scoops you up into his arms before he moves to go back to Cassian. "I would have never forgiven myself if you were to die," the spymaster says, looking ahead of himself, "But you would find another best friend to replace me with." You rasp out, your throat feeling achy already. Azriel tightens his grip on your body. "I would send out a whole army to find you because, without you, I don't have a purpose in this life," he whispers under his breath, and your icy fingers cup his cheek slightly. "I had a feeling, just wanted to make sure. Why do you think I threatened that fuck with you?". Azriel lets out a breathy chuckle, resting his head over yours for a moment. He's hoping his body heat will be enough to keep you warm till you all get to safety. "Remind me to tell you that I'm really in love with you if I make it," you mumbled softly, your eyes starting to feel heavy. "Oh, you will make it. I will make sure that you do."

[puer-aurea]

i got some incorrect quotes to showcase the crews dynamics and give insight into what arabellas personality will be like without flat out saying it

Jimmy, Swansea, Curly, Anya, Arabella, Daisuke (also what happened to the yellow color?? curly was supposed to be yellow but its gone???)

Swansea: Shut it Daisuke, I only shook your hand because I had to. We will NEVER be friends. Daisuke: Lets survive this together! Swansea: I HOPE YOU DIE.

Curly: *out cold on the ground* Daisuke: Oh my god, do you think they’re okay?! Swansea, holding a bucket of ice water: Who cares?! *dumps all of the water on Curly’s face*

Curly, in the groupchat: So you guys robbed Jimmy? Jimmy: Yeah, all of them. Anya: Lies. Swansea: Slander. Arabella: That’s bullshit. Daisuke: And we’d do it again.

Jimmy: State your name, rank, and intention. Arabella: Arabella, Arabella, fun.

Jimmy: Maybe the real monster was the friends we both literally and figuratively murdered along the way.

Arabella, grinning: Before you were what? Jimmy: Before I was- Arabella: What? Jimmy: Before I was inter- Arabella: Before you were interrupted? Jimmy: Cut me off one more time and I swear I'll- Arabella: What? Jimmy: *makes frustrated sound* Anya, nervously: Stop that. Before they hurt you.

Anya: Daisuke just insisted Swansea and I remember a code word in case we’re ever confronted by their clone or a cyborg doppelgänger and we’re not sure which is the real them and which is the imposter. Anya: Some families have a fire escape plan, but not us.

Anya: That’s why we needed to get an expert. Arabella: Oh, really? Who did you get? Anya: *stares* Arabella: Oh! Right, that’s me… Yes.

Arabella, making a cup of tea: Yeah, get into that leaf juice, you sexy, sexy bee sauce. Anya: Hey, do you take constructive criticism? Arabella: I absolutely fucking do not.

Anya: A-are you sure this is safe?! Jimmy: Oh, quit being such a baby. It’s perfectly safe! …For me!

Jimmy: Sometimes I drink milk straight from the container. Arabella: The cow?? Jimmy: What? Anya: Arabella, W H Y?

Arabella: Jimmy, we tried things your way. Jimmy: No, we didn't. Arabella: I did it in my head and it didn't work.

Arabella: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK! Jimmy: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

Anya, gesturing to Arabella: Curly, look what you did! You made Mom upset! Daisuke: Mom, please don’t cry, we’re sorry! Curly: I’m sorry Mom... :( Arabella, near tears: I DON’T REMEMBER GIVING BIRTH TO ANY OF YOU!

Anya: You read my diary? Curly: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

Arabella: I prevented a murder today. Daisuke: Really? That’s amazing! How did you do that? Arabella: Self-control.

Arabella: What makes you all smile? Curly: Friends and Family. Daisuke: Snacks. Jimmy: Victory and success. Anya: Face muscles.

Bailiff: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Arabella/Jimmy: No.

Jimmy: I feel like I have died and gone to heaven. Anya: I have that dream, too, but you go in the other direction.

Jimmy: Might I make a suggestion you possibly won’t like? Arabella: Do you make any other kind?

Anya: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment...at all? Jimmy: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

Arabella: Two truths and a lie, I’ll start! Arabella: I’ve killed a man, I will kill again, and it burns when I pee. Jimmy, visibly nervous: I don’t- I don’t like this game.

Curly: I was voted “friendliest classmate” in high school. Daisuke: I was voted “most likely to become a clown”… Jimmy: You think that’s bad? HA! I was voted “most likely to get rabies”!

Anya: I'm bored. Arabella: Wanna commit first degree murder? Anya: Sure! Curly, hearing them: No- Stop, don't do that! Put that knife down! Put Jimmy down!!

*out grocery shopping* Anya: *takes a free sample twice* Anya: Robbery and Fraud. I am a Rebel.

Arabella: Ladies, gentlemen and Curly, I want to show you the greatest thing your eyes have ever beheld! Daisuke: A llama? Arabella: No. Daisuke: A baby llama? Arabella: No! Daisuke: A baby llama with a little hat on? Arabella: NO!

Arabella, at Starbucks: Can I get a venti vanilla latte with um, seven espresso shots. Swansea, in line behind them: Jesus Christ, just do cocaine.

Swansea: Big day today, Daisuke. *holds up two shirts* Mustard stain or ketchup stain? Daisuke: Mustard– looks less like blood.

Curly: I can’t tell if you’re a genius or just incredibly arrogant. Arabella: Well, on a good day, I’m both.

Arabella: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it. Arabella: Everything will be fine. You have no choice. Curly: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that? Arabella: Ominous positivity.

Daisuke: Hey Jimmy, do you have any hobbies? Jimmy: Swimming.. Daisuke: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to- Jimmy: In a pool of self hatred and regret.

Anya: Can we talk about that mass email you sent? Arabella: Why? It was important. Anya: All it says is, "I'm back on my shit". Daisuke, shrugging: The people need to know.

Arabella: My toxic trait is that I truly believe I could win a fight against anybody if I was mad enough. You might have the strength and size, but I have the pure, unfiltered rage.

Daisuke: Don’t mansplain this to me! Anya: Wh- I’m a woman! I can't mansplain anything to you! Daisuke: …Well, I’m a feminist, and I believe a woman can do anything a man does!

Arabella: Which country has the most birds? Arabella: Portu-geese! Swansea: That's a language. Arabella: Portu-gull? Swansea: Good recovery. Anya: I think you mean good re-dovery. Daisuke: TURKEY. HOW DID WE MISS TURKEY?

Curly: Norwegia. Is. Not. A. COUNTRY! Daisuke: Then where are Norwegian people from!? Anya: NORWAY!!

these next ones js made me laugh (i dont ship curly and jimmy these just genuinely had me bent over cackling) Curly, about Jimmy: I see the red flags, I acknowledge that they're there, and then I completely ignore them.

Jimmy: *sucking on a popsicle* Arabella: Pfft, you practicing for when Curly gets here? Jimmy: *takes a huge ass bite out of the popsicle* Arabella: *Concern*

Curly: Wow, they really hate us. Jimmy: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic. Curly: But we’re not gay, Jimmy. Jimmy: Curly: Jimmy: We’re not?

[joojeans]

your thoughts on what riding nicho would be like??

it started out slow, nicholas helping you safely and comfortably mount him as he rested against the headboard. he hissed when he felt the initial resistance, hands finding your hips to keep you steady. feels so fucking good, he'd mumbled as you eased down on him, stopping for a moment when he bottomed out. he grinned up at you, thumbs rubbing the skin of your tummy as you enjoyed the moment of still fullness together. as you started to rock your hips, he'd sighed happily, eyelids fluttering, hands eager to help you move. when he realized you were doing just fine without his assistance, his hands wandered up, palming your breasts. feels good, baby? he'd asked, smirking as you moaned thru a nod. you picked up the pace and it made him hungrier, hand reaching for the back of your neck to pull you down to him. c'mere. his lips captured yours, tongue inviting itself into your mouth. you mewled and the fingers that had slid into the back of your hair tightened in response, nicholas whispering a fuck against your lips. all the little things were adding up, increasing the intensity until you were relentlessly stuffing yourself full of him, suffocating each other with your hot breaths. his hands grazed down your back as your body leaned over his, groping your ass in both hands. your head fell into the crook of his neck and shoulder as you moaned for him and he hummed against your ear. baby. he kissed up your neck, teeth toying with your earlobe. you're too much for me. you could hear the faint puff of a laugh, but you quickly forgot about it when he started to thrust up into you, piercing you each time you pushed back down his cock. your moans mingled in the air—each one louder than the last—until you were clenching around him so tightly that he couldn't stand it anymore, painting the inside of your walls a creamy white just as you're beginning the descent from your own orgasm. he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to his body as you both melted into the mattress to catch your breath. told you, he teased. you're too much.

cr. cafekitsune for mdni banners ♡

[shitouttabuck]

Buddie unintentional cuddles can power me through a whole week, so the prompt 3. Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them really spoke to me <3

hiya thank u frida and @colonoscopys for sendin this one in (and an anon too!!!) very much distracted me from my wisdom tooth woes. i need to add a disclaimer that this is NOT kink it’s just sleepy drunkenness please trust me lol (rated t even!!!! not horny!!!!!!! just unbelievably stupid!!!!)

bed-sharing prompts: person A waking up to person B curled up and sleeping on top of them

put on a slow dumb show for you | 2.2k | read under cut or on ao3

Buck wakes with the same unshiftable heaviness on his chest that he gets mid-panic attack. Except—his body is incredibly confused, because while the physical pressure is bearing down, making breathing a struggle, every other cell in his body is telling him the opposite: no reason to panic, he’s warm and swaddled and safer than he’s ever been.

His brain scrambles to organise this juxtaposition of sensations. The room is dark, and not unfamiliar, even if he’s spent the night in here less than a handful of times. Eddie’s digital alarm clock is blinking at him, and Eddie’s recently mounted décor of three framed photographs on the far wall is facing him, and Eddie’s entire fucking body is draped over Buck’s and crushing the breath out of him.

Oh. Okay. The second half of his cells were right, then—he’s safe. His heart can stop racing now. And it does, a bit.

But his brain keeps reaching for puzzle pieces, laying them out for assessment before him. His mouth tastes like he licked the bottom of a public trash can, and there’s a sharp twinge behind his temple, and he feels more than a little nauseous.

That’ll be the last five tequila shots Ravi pressed into his hands pre-karaoke. Eddie’d just stumbled off stage, arm-in-arm with Karen, fresh off a You’re Still The One duet that had Karen sniffling half-way through and making grabby-hands at an amused but equally-smitten Hen. Buck had only enough time to whoop as Eddie curtsied dramatically before they were calling his name.

Buck’s good at a lot of things, but singing is not one of them. He’d whined and stammered and straight-up crawled under the table before Ravi, sweet, evil Ravi, had ducked down to join him with a tray of shots. After that is—a bit of a blur, to be honest. There was some Carly Rae Jepsen, maybe? He remembers sliding back into their booth next to Eddie and watching the rest of their friends be disgustingly romantic.

That, coupled with the best friend he’s a little unbearably in love with singing the most hopeful love song ever written, is just a recipe for Buck’s heart to get a little messy. And maybe it made him bolder with his affection than usual? Clingier, anyway. He must’ve been pretty needy for Eddie to let him crash in his bed. But Eddie’s always making sure Buck has what he needs, so that isn’t anything new. And Eddie must’ve been pretty wasted too, if this total lack of personal space is any indication.

Buck doesn’t think Eddie’ll mind waking up like this—a perk of having a physically affectionate straight best friend is that he’s mostly oblivious to a classic no homo situation. He breathes deep, weight on top of him grounding instead of suffocating, lets himself tentatively wrap an arm around Eddie to hold him steady as his chest rises with the depth of his inhale, and closes his eyes again.

Except Eddie snuffles and shifts and then jams his knee directly into Buck’s bladder. After the drinks he put away tonight? Buck’s dangerously full bladder.

“Fuck,” he squeaks, desperately trying to shift Eddie to the side. “Oh—fuck.” He clenches—everything, really, because he’s too old to wet the bed and too fond of the life he has to wet Eddie’s bed, as the aftermath of that really only involves fleeing the country.

In the end, fear of that outweighs any qualms he has about waking a peacefully slumbering Eddie, and he all but shoves him off, gasping a breath of relief when Eddie’s weight shifts from his bladder to his thighs.

“Whu—what?” Eddie slurs, scrambling up with a pinched expression. “Buck? What’s wrong?” He sits up clumsily, straddling Buck’s thighs.

“Nothing,” Buck says, voice strained. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just—really need to piss. And…” He gestures uselessly between them, face contorted in apology.

“Oh,” Eddie frowns. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” Buck echoes, feeling hysterical. “Um, I’m gonna…” He tries to tug his legs free from under Eddie and Eddie clambers off obligingly.

Buck swings himself out of bed and hurries down the hall to the bathroom, cursing himself for everything from waking Eddie to ruining what could’ve been the cuddle session of his dreams to going and fucking falling in love with his best friend in the first place.

He lets the door swing shut behind him and absentmindedly lifts the toilet seat, shoving a hand into his boxers and then just about leaping a foot in the air when the door squeaks open again and Eddie shuffles over to stand behind him, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder.

“Um,” Buck says, feeling dizzy for reasons that are only partly alcohol related. “Uh.”

“D’you need a hand?” Eddie asks sleepily.

Buck laughs nervously, frozen facing the wall with his hand down his boxers. “Uh. What?”

Eddie yawns, muffling the back-half of it into Buck’s shoulder and crowding closer, plastering himself along Buck’s back. Does Buck have alcohol poisoning? Is this the tequila version of an absinthe hallucination?

“D’you need me to hold it?” Eddie clarifies, nuzzling Buck’s shoulder gently.

Buck chokes on his own spit, body buckling as he pulls his hand out his underwear to thump his own chest. No, he skipped straight past the alcohol poisoning, he’s dead, not even a coma could dream this up.

Eddie steps back, frowning in concern when Buck finally spins to face him, eyes wide. His whole body is taut, stark contrast to the sleepy slump of Eddie’s shoulders.

“Do I—what?” he manages.

“Sorry, I wasn’t, like, trying to baby you,” Eddie says, looking unsure. “But after earlier—”

“Earlier,” Buck echoes. Eddie’s gaze has dropped to south of Buck’s navel, where his boxers have rucked up enough to leave a considerable amount of his happy trail on display. He yanks the waistband up quickly, and Eddie’s head snaps up too, cheeks dusted pink. Then his face, his perfect, beautiful face, falls.

“Wait, Buck—do you not remember? After karaoke?” he asks, taking a step back. “Oh, I—I didn’t think you were that drunk.”

“I wasn’t,” Buck insists, racking his brain, and oh.

The tequila-soaked memory swims up, Buck desperate for the toilet and stubborn about being able to get there himself, despite tripping over his stupid Bambi legs not two steps from their table. Eddie laughing and slinging an arm around him, half-carrying him to the men’s room. Buck standing in front of the urinal, frowning and arms flopping helplessly at his sides.

“Eddie,” he’d whined. “My hands aren’t working.”

Eddie’d laughed again, fond and warm, and asked if he wanted to sit in a stall.

“No,” Buck had pouted. “My zip…” He’d turned to Eddie, lopsided grin and beseeching eyes, and Eddie’d shaken his head and come to stand behind him. He’d undone Buck’s zipper and asked, “Alright?” and Buck had pouted some more.

“Can you help?” he’d asked, mortifyingly pathetic. Eddie’d raised an eyebrow and snorted, and then Buck had said, “Eddieee. These are my nice jeans. My hands don’t work. Your hands are perfect.”

Eddie’d muttered, “Might as well happen like this,” and slipped a hand into Buck’s jeans and—ah. Held his dick while he peed.

“Oh,” Buck says now, voice small. “Fuck, Eds, I’m sorry.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, somewhat blearily. “Why? I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, but I know—I don’t think we’re on the same page. I don’t—” Buck closes his eyes and presses the heels of his palms into them. “I don’t think it meant the same thing for us.”

“Oh,” Eddie’s face is suddenly unreadable. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes another step back. Buck wants to cry. He basically tricked his best friend into touching him—doesn’t matter if Eddie did it platonically, because drunk or not, genuinely needing help to piss or not, Buck’s pretty sure his own intentions were not all that innocent.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” he says. “I was drunk as hell—that’s not an excuse, but it won’t happen again. I—I’ll be better at keeping it to myself. The last thing I ever want is to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”

Something passes over Eddie’s face. “Wait,” he says slowly, “you asked me to hold your dick as friends?” There’s an uncertain lilt to the question, like he truly doesn’t know what the answer is anymore.

“Uh,” Buck says. He could use the confusion to wrestle the cat back into the bag and then ship said bag one-way to Nicaragua, but Eddie’s looking a little lost, arms crossed in his black vest and boxers and mismatched socks. Buck can’t be the cause of that. “No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I swear I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was just really drunk.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, stepping forward again and reaching out to tug Buck in by the hem of his t-shirt. “What’s the problem then?” He slides a warm hand under Buck’s shirt, smoothing it across his skin.

Buck inhales sharply, blood rushing to his brain and cheeks and cock so quickly he reaches for the porcelain toilet tank behind him to steady himself. “W-wait. Were you holding my dick as friends?”

Eddie blinks at him, disbelief slowly overtaking the slack sleepiness of his facial muscles. “You thought—is that generally something your friends do for you?”

“No, but…” Buck falters. “Why—why did you, then? Why else would you…”

“I was holding your dick because I want to kiss it,” Eddie snaps, and then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and horrified. “I want to kiss you,” he amends. “You, not your—I mean, sure, that too, but. Can you say something.”

The many million times Buck has daydreamed and fantasised and wished for this, he’s never anticipated fuzzy patches in his memory of it. But these things are clear: waking up with Eddie plastered to him like he wants to touch Buck at every possible point, Eddie following him in here unprompted and pressing up against him with unchecked affection, because even in his sleepy state Eddie just wants to make sure Buck has what he needs, even if what he needs is help holding his dick in a context that’s soft and sleepy and miles from sexual.

“You came in here to hold my dick,” he says, grin spreading.

Eddie’s cheeks are so rosy, rosier than they’d been with the flush of alcohol, even. “I came in here because I didn’t want your uncoordinated drunk ass pissing all over my bathroom.”

“Aw, Eds, you romantic,” Buck says, stepping closer. Eddie sighs exasperatedly, tilting his face up expectantly anyway. But, oh—

“Did we kiss already?” Buck asks, heart dropping. “Do I not remember?”

Eddie brings up one large palm to rub Buck’s sternum gently. “Nah. Didn’t seem like the right time. I kinda—I wanted to do that not-drunk.”

“Oh,” Buck says, sagging with relief. “Good.” Eddie gives him a sleepy, wonky smile, and Buck says, “I’m not drunk now.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, stepping back and patting Buck’s chest. “Nope, just hungover and harbouring the most toxic tequila-flavoured morning breath anyone’s ever had.”

“Don’t forget desperate to pee,” Buck grins. “You gonna help a guy out?” He flaps his arms limply, batting his lashes at Eddie.

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, lips twitching with amusement as he bodily rearranges Buck to face the toilet again. Buck melts back into the cradle of his arms, safe and sleepy and sated enough that his dick doesn’t do any more than he needs it to right now, even with Eddie’s warm hand wrapped around it.

They stumble back to bed, Buck belatedly remembering he’s not washed his hands but deciding not to care if Eddie doesn’t, and when Buck flops down, Eddie’s right back on top of him.

Buck wheezes as the breath’s punched out of his lungs, and it becomes a laugh, and this time he wraps both arms firmly around Eddie to hold him tight. Eddie exhales into the crook of his neck, breath hot and a little gross, and then lifts his head to press a close-mouthed kiss to the corner of Buck’s lips.

“This one doesn’t count,” he murmurs against Buck’s cheek. “I just can’t believe you thought I wanted to hold your dick as friends, so. It’s an almost-kiss. An IOU. Tomorrow I’m gonna kiss you till one of us passes out. Not as friends.”

“As enemies,” Buck whispers solemnly and then grunts when Eddie digs an elbow into his ribs. “As anything you want, s’long as I can keep the kissing and the dick-holding and—this.” He tightens his arms around Eddie, feeling his chest reverberate against Buck’s as he laughs.

“Deal,” he agrees, nestling closer, messy hair getting in Buck’s mouth as he shifts. “But just so you know what I want—and I don’t mean to skip ahead—though I guess we’re doing the regular dating bases all out of order anyway—” He sighs, deep and satisfied as he gets comfortable, and says, “I’m ready to have and to dick-hold you every day of the week, you know?”

Buck didn’t know, but now he does, and in eleven months’ time when he and Eddie are saying these words in front of their friends and family, sans penis, not one single person can blame him for lurching forward and kissing the adoring smirk off Eddie’s face miles before poor ordained Bobby gives him the go-ahead. Doing true love in order is overrated, anyway.

[plutoscosmoss]

Fire Inside   ➸ c.21

Warnings: This series includes themes of violence, death, smut, childbirth and childbirth complications (if I forgot to mention any please let me know)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x OC

{Series Masterlist}

Previous Chapter

Chapter 21: The Waiting Game

Renva watched as Jacaerys came into their chambers to collect some belongings for the journey. Both did not speak, just existed in silence with each other until Jacaerys spoke up. 

“Why didn’t you tell me of your fathers condition? I could have been there for you.” He said walking towards where she stood by the window. 

“You had lost two members of your own family already it didn’t seem as important as to what you were going through.” Renva said, running a hand across her own arm to soothe herself. Jacaerys replaced her hand with his own, “You are my family now as well, you do not have to suffer on your own. My mother is sending me to the Eyrie and then to Winterfell. I will get an update for you on how your brothers are doing. If you would like me to bring anything back for you, or if you have to say anything to your brothers, simply write it in a letter and I shall deliver it to them.” Jacaerys said as he pulled Renva close and rested his head on hers, after spending her grief in solitude she felt her walls crumble as he pulled her in. All the weight of the events that have transpired fell onto her at that moment. Through tears she was able to choke out, “Why are you going instead of ravens? I don’t want you or Luke to get hurt.” Renva said and she clutched onto Jace’s tunic. “Look at me Renva,” Jace pulled away slightly and raised his hands to cup Renvas face. “We are to be sent as messengers, we swore to our mother not to fight. We will be safe.” Jacaeys heart swelled at the thought that Renva had not only cared deeply for him but for his younger brother who would also be taking a journey by himself. 

A knock on the door startled them both, they only briefly separated to see Lucerys standing in the doorway. 

“Are you ready brother? The dragons are waiting.” Luke said quietly, he had always been the quiet and compassionate type which warmed Renvas heart knowing that he was her family now. “I just have to grab a few more things.” Jace said and he kissed Renva’s forehead and gathered the rest of his belongings. Renva quickly wrote down that she was okay and would like her mothers charoite jewel ring, gifted to her mother from her father. She rolled up the parchment and handed it to Jacaerys. She then moved across the room to the table beside her side of the bed. She picked up what she had recently finished making and walked her way back over to where the two brothers now stood together. She motioned for both boys to hold out a wrist. Renva slowly wrapped a thick bracelet made of the Starks’ gray color, along with the Targaryens’ black and finally the Velaryian blue. Both boys looked up to her once she tied them to their wrists. She lifted up her own to show she too had one, “These symbolize that we are all now one,” she turned towards Luke,  “After my wedding to your brother, I became your sister. I shall look after you as my own and fight for you both until the end of my days.” Renva said, embarrassing both boys. She gave Luke a kiss on his cheek and her beloved one on the lips. “I shall walk with you to the Dragon mount.” As they walked to the dragon mount Renva couldn't help but feel uneasy about this  journey the boys were going on. 

—

Renva had been residing in the library for the remainder of the day to keep herself calm. The boys wouldn’t be back for a bit, she needed to keep herself occupied so as to not freak out. She was in the middle of reading about King Jaehaerys first of his name ascension to the throne, when she heard the door open and the guard announce that it was Queen Rhaenyra. Renva quickly rose and curtseyed before Rhaenyra.

“I thought I might find you here.” Rhaenyra said as she sat in the seat across from Renva. Renva’s heart raced at the memory of their prior interaction. “I am sorry for not being vocal about my fathers condition until now, your grace. You see I have been feeling under the weather, and preferred to rest in solace.” Renva spoke without being questioned, trying quickly to defend herself to the Queen. “My dear child, you are okay. I too wish to apologize for how I acted at the painted table. I am on edge due to recent events and have been cautious on who I listen to.” Rhaenyra held onto Renva’s hands. “It is okay, your grace. After all that you have been through it is to be expected in some way.” Renva offered a small smile to the Queen. “Let us wait for the boys to return together. Luke should be back within two days time and Jacaerys should be back before the weeks end.” Rhaenyra stood taking Renva with her. 

During the time Rhaenyra spent with Renva, they spoke of Targaryen history, growing up in Winterfell, and spending time with Rhaenyra’s youngest sons, Viscerys and Aegon. Renva asked all the questions she had about Targaryen history, making the Queen laugh occasionally due to her avid curiosity. The Queen in turn would ask how life in Winterfell fared to life at the Red Keep and Dragonstone. Renva was happy to answer the Queen's questions, highlighting her love for the snow. The young boys absolutely loved Renva, her time spent with them on the trip back to Dragonstone having solidified a great relationship between the three. Renva was like an older sister to the young boys. 

Speaking of the young boys, Renva took it upon herself to watch them while the Queens court discussed the next options, should the boys return with not so great news. Renva was sitting off to the side of the painted table, Rhaenyra requesting the boys never be too far from her. Renva was holding little sleeping Viscerys while Aegon was playing on the floor with a wooden dragon figurine. Renva glanced between the boys when she heard the door open and Daemon walked the length of the room, his face sullen. He pulled Rhaenyra over towards the fireplace just to the right of where Renva was sitting with the boys when she heard the news that made her heart break.

Lucerys Velaryon was dead, murdered in the sky by his uncle Aemond targaryen and his dragon Vhagar. He was no match for the war dragon, and the crazed rider. The small dragon tried with all of its might to flee it, but little Arrax was no match. Renva glanced at Rhaenyra, as she saw the Queen's eyes darken she knew that war was now closer than ever. Renva held little Viserys tighter before watching Rhaenyra and Daemond walk out of the room together. 

End Of Season 1 .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.