#think it’s partly the thought that “you’re my brother and I love all of you”

[loveinhawkins]

picturing Dustin watching at the trailer park, right after Eddie says, “Hey, Steve? Make him pay.”

And for some reason Dustin’s reminded of ‘84, of his conversation with Steve on the railroad tracks, it’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?—although he’s grown enough to suspect that Steve might not know everything in that regard.

And it’s not electricity he senses, not exactly, but it’s definitely a storm of some kind: something fragile. Something—someone—that’s very scared.

Dustin’s running before he’s even registered his decision. “Steve!”

Steve turns around, and he already looks like he’s about to ask a question—something practical, like whether Dustin’s forgotten something—and Dustin feels a twist of regret, that that’s where Steve’s mind goes; yeah, they’re all ready for battle, so it makes sense, but…

Feeling suddenly very young, Dustin barrels into Steve and hugs him.

He hears Steve’s surprised inhale, his hesitancy, before he returns the hug in full force.

For a little while, it’s like the world narrows down to only this. No ash in the air, no nightmarish red in the sky. Just the two of them.

Dustin’s about to pull away when he feels Steve’s chin dig into the top of his head. Hears him sniff, very quietly, like he’s trying to hide it; and that makes Dustin think of the tunnels, or afterwards, really, when Steve held onto him with shaking hands, kept saying, “We’re okay, we’re okay.”

So he just keeps hugging back.

Steve’s the one to let go; he’s smiling, but he looks a little sad too, forehead creased with worry.

“I need a ride tomorrow,” Dustin says.

Steve huffs. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

Dustin taps his nose obnoxiously. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

It’s bullshit, of course; Dustin doesn’t need a ride anywhere.

Steve rolls his eyes, but some tightness in his jaw finally eases. “God, you’re such a dick.”

“Bright and early, Steve!” Dustin adds smugly. “Five am!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving him off, and for a moment it’s like they’re just in the school parking lot. He looks as if he’s about to say something else, then thinks better of it—glances back to where Robin and Nancy are waiting. He pulls Dustin in with one arm, a brief but tight hold. Nods, as if to himself. “Go on, scram.”

Dustin runs back to the trailer with a stitch in his side but a smile on his face. He knows it’s naive to think he can fix everything, but in this moment at least some part of the universe has been righted, even while in The Upside Down.

Eddie’s standing right where he left him, like he’s been frozen the whole time.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “is he, uh… is he okay?”

Dustin’s reminded that of course, Steve isn’t the only one who’s scared.

“Yeah, he will be,” he says, which he thinks is a more accurate answer than a simple yes or no.

It’s funny how life works, he muses while gathering supplies for the trailer defences. There’s no way he’d have thought even a week ago that Eddie would be sincerely asking him about Steve’s well-being. Whenever he happened to bring Steve up at Hellfire, Eddie would imitate him in a comedic falsetto, “Oh, Steve this, Steve that.”

For a minute, Eddie remains rooted to the spot, still staring in the direction of where Steve went—like he’d watched helplessly as Steve walked into the eye of a storm or something.

“You just gonna stand there and gawk?” Dustin says.

Eddie snorts. “So rude, Henderson.”

And it’s not like Dustin really knows, not when Steve and Eddie are still barely dancing around it themselves. Still, he can pick up on some things.

Like when they’ve finished setting up everything, waiting for the go-ahead for Eddie to start playing his guitar—to pass the time, they recount the high points of the day, keep it light. It’s a practice Eddie used to implement after campaigns.

And look, Dustin’s damn good at picking up on patterns. Like, he loves Steve, but he’s pretty sure the reality of him driving the hotwired RV doesn’t quite match up to how Eddie’s currently waxing lyrical about it.

He’s making it sound like it was something outta James Bond, Dustin thinks, when he’s sure Steve drove right into several trash cans.

Suddenly he knows exactly what he should do.

“Steve this, Steve that,” he sing-songs.

Eddie flushes; Dustin cackles.

“Fuck off,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling as Dustin keeps laughing, like he knows there’s nothing mean-spirited in it. He keeps going, Steve this, Steve that, talking right over Dustin’s teasing—somehow finding even more moments where Steve truly shines.

And Dustin doesn’t know everything, not even close, but at the very least, he knows that this feels right.

[ellana-ravenwood]

“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.  

Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do : 

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing. 

And that it was utterly...evil. 

“It’s going to be FUN !” 

Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family. 

“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish. 

“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.” 

Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.

Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile. 

“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point. 

Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed. 

“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”. 

And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes. 

Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise. 

************

Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters : 

“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”  

Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby. 

A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore). 

And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl. 

Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne. 

Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children. 

That was happiness then, right ? 

So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”). 

And that what’s made him particularly evil. 

He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !). 

And he knew they were a little worried about him. 

He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family. 

They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad. 

Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried. 

And Bruce knew. 

You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan. 

Why tell them, when you could toy with them ? 

“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise. 

Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours. 

This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves. 

It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them). 

It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit. 

So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her. 

Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it. 

Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby. 

She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family. 

And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms. 

Evil. Your husband was downright evil. 

He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW. 

And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”. 

************

“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself. 

None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin. 

Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing. 

Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?

The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??

WHAT ?! 

They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation. 

They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.

Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him. 

Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them). 

It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children. 

Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated. 

Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.

Like today. 

The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird. 

Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least. 

And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ? 

How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...

Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image. 

The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy. 

Odd. 

Yet, sweet. 

Were they surprised ? Yes. 

Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely. 

Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too. 

Were they happy for him ? For sure. 

Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to. 

Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky. 

Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!” 

***********

The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter. 

“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her. 

She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter. 

Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-

Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards- 

“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness. 

You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most. 

Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-

Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away. 

Damian. 

Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously. 

He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends. 

************

Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her. 

Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.

Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ? 

Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family. 

Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”. 

You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice). 

You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life. 

But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking. 

Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon). 

************

It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them. 

Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes. 

They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.  

Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly. 

Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”. 

After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes. 

Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-

Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her. 

And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course). 

“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh. 

“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together. 

************

Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him. 

She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman. 

He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason

Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that. 

He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-

He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to. 

Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it. 

You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA. 

************

“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable. 

Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ? 

“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”

“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.” 

Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people. 

Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time. 

Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest). 

It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed. 

Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him. 

As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone. 

************

Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents. 

She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements. 

Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted. 

Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really. 

Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to. 

She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...

Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart. 

And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too. 

Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least). 

************

Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions. 

As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep. 

He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...

But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too. 

And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace. 

He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little. 

So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him. 

He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ? 

It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way. 

You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and- 

Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept. 

And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel. 

Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture. 

Seriously. That guy !! 

************

Batman smiling was...different. 

They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-

Well. Broad. 

It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes. 

It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say). 

And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much. 

As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine. 

It made them all feel...soft. And warm. 

It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it. 

That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love. 

Because he loved his parents, his city, and now- 

His family. 

It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that. 

A loving man, who wanted to protect others. 

************

You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all : 

1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate. 

2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !

3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons). 

4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction. 

5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower. 

6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child. 

7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy. 

8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah. 

9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world. 

10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant- 

Oh it meant so much. 

And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters. 

Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious- 

All positive feelings. 

And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them- 

Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh. 

Oh it felt like you would die of happiness. 

And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly. 

He knew. 

He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again. 

He knew. 

He never loved like that before. 

Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.

__________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :). 

Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ? 

[slaybestieslay946]

Luke Castellan and Persephone!Child (I know she doesn’t canonically have Demi-god kids but I feel like it fits well) with a story similar to Eurydice and Orpheus’s sad tale.

thank you so much for your request, it acc ties in really well to a fic idea ive had for a while, so i was so excited to see this in my inbox!!

Circle

MASTERLIST

word count: 1800

pairing: luke castellan x persephone!reader

warnings: death, minor depictions of violence, angst

a/n: partly inspired by the request, partly by mitski's song 'circle' honestly i think it made this extra gut-wrenching. hope you all enjoy!

'Nobody knows my lover, is buried underground.'

When Luke Castellan received his quest, everyone knew who he would pick to take with him. 

Immediately, he turned to you, flashing you a bright grin, and beckoning you towards him. You laughed, wading through the crowd to your lover, smiling brightly all the way. 

The rest of camp half blood rolled their eyes fondly at the pair of you, and just how disgustingly in love you were. 

It had been like this ever since you arrived at camp half blood, mere months after Luke himself. 

You’d been escorted to the Hermes cabin by one of the older campers, and sat down on a bunk bed. You had looked around the place, lost, confused, and homesick. 

And then a boy stepped up to you, asking how you were, what your name was. And gods, even at the age of 14, you knew he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Luke thought the same about you. 

He was so drawn to you, he couldn’t stay away. 

Now, even 4 years later, nothing had changed. 

He was openly enraptured by you, just as Hades was with your mother. He was never seen without you by his side, so of course he’d pick you to bring on his first quest.

A few days later, you set off, Luke’s half-brother, Chris Rodriguez in tow. Everything started off well, you’d managed to locate someone to tell you where the Garden of Hesperides was, in order to retrieve the golden apple that you had been sent for. 

On the way there, you hardly encountered any monsters. You lived comfortably, even if you slept in motels every night, and dined on gas station food. 

It all went downhill when you finally reached the garden. 

You and Chris stood guard whilst Luke stepped towards the tree, no sword in his hand. You kept your spear gripped tightly in your hand, should he awake the dragon sleeping at his feet. 

He eventually reached the foot of the tree, taking a deep breath before reaching up into the branches, and trying to snag one of the apples. Meanwhile, you didn’t take your eyes off the dragon, watching it for any sign of movement. 

And when it finally opened its dark eye, looking up at Luke, you ran forward, sprinting towards it with your spear outstretched to stab it. 

But you weren’t fast enough, and it turned, slashing a talon across your chest, and sending you collapsing onto the ground, blood soaking into your shirt. 

Luke darted towards you and in his rush, he wasn’t able to avoid the sharp tail of the dragon whipping across his face, leaving a fine cut all the way down it. 

He ignored the biting pain, barely able to register it when all he could see was you, lying on the floor, a pool of blood encircling you. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, patting your cheek gently, cradling your body to his chest, “You’re gonna be alright, yeah? Just open your eyes for me baby.” 

You struggled to do as he asked, looking up at your lover with confused eyes. 

“You-” You coughed, “You have to go. It’s over for me. Gonna go see mom.”

“No, no. Gotta stay with me. We can get through this.” He cried, brushing his thumbs across your face.

“I- I- I love y-you. W-we’ll s-see each other ag-gain.” You did your best to smile, and while all you wanted to do was reach up and hold his face, you found you didn’t have the strength to do so. 

He continued to cry and beg you to come back, but it was all for nothing, you’d gone silent, and your eyes were all still. 

And then vines began to wrap around your body, pulling you into the earth, down towards Persephone, your mother. 

Luke kept crying as they took you away from him, leaving nothing but your camp necklace behind. 

“Hey, man, we gotta go.” He heard Chris call, and he whipped his head around to berate him, until he saw his half-brother was currently in combat with the dragon that had killed you. 

He was right, they had to go. 

He scooped your camp necklace off of the ground, and ran towards his brother, who detached from his fight with the dragon to run away from the garden. Luke followed after him, tears streaming down his face the whole way. 

*

When Luke got back to camp, he was different. Numb. 

Annabeth ran up to him when they descended the hill, a bright smile on her face at her older brother's return. It faded slightly when she saw you weren’t right beside him. 

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, looking around as if you’d pop out from nowhere.

“Gone.” Was all Luke could manage to say, pulling his little sister in for a hug he so desperately needed, confirmation that at least she was still here. 

For the next few months, he barely left the Hermes cabin, only ever going down to the amphitheatre in the early hours of the morning, where he could be seen slashing recklessly at wooden dummies left right and centre. 

He didn’t know how to live without you. He always thought you’d be with him forever. He had this vision that together you would grow old, and would die while sitting on some front porch, holding hands as you went at the same moment. 

Now he realised that it was a pipedream. You were demigods, it was never going to work out like that. 

But he couldn’t go on living like this. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning if you weren’t beside him. So he formed his plan, to go down to the underworld and retrieve you himself. 

His father was the god of travellers, and your mother was the queen of the underworld. It could work. 

So he travelled to the entrance to the underworld, your camp necklace in his hands, and prayed. First to your mother, asking for an audience, and second to his father, asking for use of his access to the underworld. It was the first time he had ever asked Hermes for anything, and if this worked, it would probably be the last. He’d never want for anything again if it meant you were with him again. 

And it did work. The gate opened to him, a long staircase down into the darkness. Luke descended quickly; he didn’t want to keep Persephone, or you for that matter, waiting.

He soon found himself pushing through crowds of lost souls, keeping a look out for you, but you were nowhere in sight. He then turned his attention back to reaching Persephone’s throne, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally found himself at the foot of it, looking up at the goddess herself. 

“You requested an audience with me, Mr Castellan. I hope this is not about my daughter.” Persephone said sternly, looking down at the demigod, her fears confirmed when she saw the string of beads clutched in his hands. 

“It is, but-”

“There’s no buts. I can’t do anything about your predicament. It is not within my jurisdiction.” She declared, her voice growing regretful, “My daughter is in Elysium, and that’s where she must stay.” 

“My lady, I understand that this is difficult for you. But we both know Y/N… died before her time. She would want to come back. She deserves to have a life.” 

“And you would give that to her?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you would protect her, better than I can?”

Luke gulped, “Just as well.” 

The goddess sighed, and muttered, almost to herself, “We have had this problem before, persuasive mortals and their tales of love. Let’s see if you can fare any better, Luke Castellan.” 

“I will release my only daughter from the underworld, on one condition. As you lead her back into the world of the living, you mustn’t look back at her. She will be following you, trust me on that, demigod.” 

“And if I do? Look back?” 

“Then you will never see her again. Not in your world, nor mine,” She looked down at him once again, a sad look in her eyes, “Now go, exit through the fields of asphodel, she will follow you from there.” 

Luke nodded firmly, and turned back around, returning the way he came, smiling more brightly than he had in months. 

He was going to see his Y/N again, all he had to do was not look back at her, how difficult could that be?

He pushed his way back through the fields of asphodel, keeping a tight hold of her camp beads. As soon as they reached the surface, he would string them around her neck again. He’d be able to hold her face in his palms, to kiss her, to hug her. Everything would be alright again. 

As he returned to the staircase, he felt a rush of wind behind him. It had to be her. Then, to confirm his suspicions, he heard soft footsteps on the stone staircase. Luke smiled to himself once again, wishing so desperately that he could greet her, but not wanting to break Persephone’s rules. 

He continued up the staircase for what felt like hours, it was definitely taking him a lot longer this time. The thing that kept him going was your footsteps behind him, a reminder that you were still there, following after him. 

Until they stopped, right as he became able to see the light coming from the living world above him. 

He paused for a moment, listening out for you. But he couldn’t hear anything besides his panting breaths and the odd screech of a harpy. 

Luke began to grow worried, a pit forming in his stomach, but he kept climbing the stairs. Persephone told him you’d be following, she wouldn’t lie, would she?

Or maybe it was all some elaborate joke. Fortune hadn’t been on his side recently. 

Maybe he should check. Just a peek, it couldn’t hurt, could it? What was so wrong about him looking back anyway, why shouldn’t he want to see his lover, the girl he would do anything for?

So he did. He turned, to look over his shoulder. 

And of course, you were right behind him, just like your mother said you would. 

At first you looked joyful to see him, and then your face fell in horror as you realised what he had done. You reached out to touch him, to hold on, but you couldn’t quite reach. And then you felt yourself being pulled back, away from him. 

Luke watched on in horror as you fell back into the abyss.

[ay0nha]

Lament of My Heart | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: “Tommy…”  Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

Set pre-episode four & post-episode five w/ moments of pre-outbreak

PAIRING: Joel Miller x femme!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

WARNINGS: SMUT (hand job), mentions of blood, mutual pining/slow burnish, skinny dipping (of sorts), canon-typical things, mentions of Tommy x reader, etc.

A/N: Need to post this before it sits in the drafts to collect dust. Joel is just on my mind all the time, so this is the product of that. Thank you as always @from-the-clouds​ for listening to my blabbering and entertaining all my ideas! Much love.

“No more questions, Ellie,” You reprimanded her lightly, trying to cover the warmth she was discovering you felt. “Get some rest.”

Ellie was a hard-headed person with the responsibility of society on her shoulders. She carried the weight well, but she was still human, still young. But her questions revealed her growing creativity and sharp wit.

“Not tired.” She hated Joel’s coffee, but the stolen sips still coursed through her veins. You knew it was partly due to the anxiety ahead of them. They all felt it, that tense air of the unknown. “You two don’t seem to get along, though.”

Your eyes flashed to the rear view mirror on instinct. Settled on the truck’s dirty cushions and the supplies being used as a pillow, Joel was asleep. But you weren’t sure how long it would last.

“Ellie-

“It wasn’t a question!” She defended quickly, toying with the edge of her sleeve. She’d been dying to know just exactly why you got under Joel’s skin the way you did. “Tell me about Tommy, at least.”

“Ask Joel.” Your eyes were everywhere. You checked the mirror as if there was traffic, but it was the only thing that kept you occupied. She was making you squirm.

“C’mon, you know he won’t-” Ellie’s own frustrations were building up. In her shoes, you’d be just as curious. “Please.”

Through a thoughtful sigh, you resigned, “Before-We just- We’ve known each other for a long time.” You’d been intertwined with the Miller brothers since before everything. You rarely said it aloud, and now, you struggled to put all the history into something coherent. “I met Tommy when he returned from deployment-

“In Texas?” Ellie hung onto every word, mind spinning tales faster than you could keep up with. “Were you in the military too?”

“I said no questions.”

The comment made her smile. Ellie always appreciated a good game. Loopholes were her specialty.

“Fine, then.” She settled in the passenger seat, knees to her chest as she faced you, “You were discharged with Tommy with more medals than you could count!” Her posture then changed with inventive excitement, “Or maybe a bad-ass sniper with too many confirmed kills to count.” You wished your life was as exciting as she made it sound. “You’re going to have to stop me before I start thinking you led an elite hit squad.”

“Close.” You quipped, “I worked on the military base in town.” It was the first job that hired you and offered some stability for someone your age. “I’d help get soldiers back on their feet once they returned…”

“Then you became friends with Tommy,” Ellie encouraged you to continue. She couldn’t stand the lulls.

Too many years passed for you to remember clearly how you became close to Tommy, but at the time, he considered you his soulmate. Not that either of you really knew what that meant.

“Then I became friends with Tommy.” You nodded. You kept your eyes steady ahead, adding, “Joel, too.” Glancing at Ellie, you finished,  “Then we all just…stuck together.”

Separation wasn’t ever questioned, even on the eve of all the destruction. That memory was vivid; the way your bloodied body held onto Joel, dragging him away from it all, Tommy trailing behind, surveilling every move. It was how you moved together for years, protecting each other as much as possible.  

“He doesn’t talk about it; before,” Ellie commented lowly. You knew she wished for more from Joel. But she couldn’t see what you saw in the way he softened for her.

“That hasn’t changed with time.” Your words felt too bitter. This time you indulged in a glance at Joel. Still settled. “I’m surprised he’s even talking to me now.”

You always described the Miller brothers as a whirlwind. They may not have necessarily meant it, but they had a knack for sweeping you up and consuming you. When Joel came to you with Ellie, there was no question of whether you would help or not, just when and where you were needed.

He’d never leave without you.

“Tell me something about them...” Ellie pleaded. She was a clever girl who picked up on the weight of his misery. But it wasn’t yours to share. “Before they…before this.”

Your shoulders relaxed while your hands moved to the bottom of the steering wheel as you allowed yourself to filter through only the fond memories.

“Alright, well…” You hesitated with your words. Only because you knew, Joel would tell the story differently. “He and Tommy were wasted…I mean…Absolutely hammered that night.”

Your words had their desired effect, and Ellie’s giggles encouraged you to continue. But it felt strange to make Joel’s drinking habits sound so lighthearted when you know how the habit haunted him now.

“Tommy called me.” The phone in Joel’s kitchen woke you up that night well past the witching hour. “The brothers always got into all kinds of mischief, usually Tommy's fault.” You were typically by his side, provoking him. “Always Tommy’s fault.”

“He sounds fun.” Ellie joined in. You knew in another world, the two would get up to all kinds of mischief if they had the chance.

“He can be, when he wants.” You glanced at the map on your lap. With the sun getting low, it meant you needed to find a safe place to stop soon. “That night, though, the two of them had the bright idea to pretend to be bouncers, only to get into a fight with the actual ones.”

“I knew Joel wasn’t a total hard-ass.”

As you continued to retell the story, you hadn’t realized how much nostalgia you carried with you. Nor were you able to see how you talked so warmly of Joel. Ellie knew exactly what to say to get the information she wanted. But you waited a long time to reminisce freely.

“...When I finally got them home,” You blew a raspberry at the unforgettable effort it took. The stench of alcohol and smoke still made your nose scrunch. “Thank god Tommy had enough sense left to make it to the couch.”

Ellie loved how you teased Joel’s hiccuping that he blamed it on being over-served tequila. It was hard even to imagine he had any of that humor left in him. You embellished the story just enough to entertain yourself. But the story's core provided fertile ground for understanding that nothing you added was too far-fetched.

“They remembered nothing the next morning,” You said. “Tommy found all these numbers written on his arm, said he’d close his eyes and pick which to call.”

“....And Joel, he must have been so hungover…”

“You’d think…” You reflected flatly.  “He just got up and went to work.”

From your side, you knew Ellie could sense you holding back.  She’d gotten more than she asked for, so she left it. She could see how the echo of that night still felt fresh, doubting you provided her with the detailed ending you lived.

----

“You alright?” The question was slowly processed by Joel, who was trying to steady his breathing before the contents of his stomach came up.

“Yeah, yeah…” Joel held onto you every step, arm slung over your shoulders, making you sway with him with each step to his room.

He was mumbling while you settled him on the edge of his bed. You got every few words while focusing on preparing him for the next day. The brothers had work, and doing this would save you the headache of hearing their complaints.

“B-been thinkin’...” His Texan drawl was heightened as he slurred.

“That so?” You half-heartedly replied, rummaging through his medicine cabinet. You looked for something for the morning.

“Mhmm…”

You could hear him shuffling around in his room. Assuming he’d been pulling his boots off and discarding his jacket, you were surprised to find him leaning on the bathroom’s door frame.

“Then you’ve been hanging around Tommy too much.”

“Tommy…” Joel let out a breath of frustrated laughter. He disappointingly shook his head, leaning over you, “That boy doesn’t know what he’s lost.”

You still held love for Tommy, but you had mistaken it for something that it wasn’t. The two of you functioned better as friends; you were his confidant and partner in crime. Neither of you would change that for the world.

“And you do?”

Your relationship with Joel had a natural ebb and flow that could be but never got to the point of being volatile. But that didn't stop you from stepping on each other's toes, constantly being on the brink of an argument that neither of you knew the point of.

“Darlin’...” You melted his resolve, helping him the way you were. Joel’s eyes flickered down. Nothing about your outfit was seductive, but the way his eyes loitered told you maybe it had been. Covering his tracks seamlessly, Joel continued, “...The things you deserve.”

Your laugh bounced off the bathroom walls, resonating deep within Joel’s chest.

"What?" Joel asked lightly, his smile starting to mirror yours, but not understanding why, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

“Shit, Joel,” Your laughter lingered, “You must be really drunk.”

“C’mon now.” He tried to stop you. He wasn’t sure he could handle any level of ridicule from you.  

But you pushed passed him, drawing his sheets back for the night to be over, “Let’s just get you to bed.”

He stumbled to you willingly, but you could see his mind turning. There was something he wanted off his chest, but you knew you weren’t ready to hear it.

“Come on now, Miller,” You tried again. “We’ve both got work in the morning.”

“What is it you do again?” Joel’s words played with chords of tension. “Besides eat all my food and sleep on my couch.”

"Get by." You joked more for your sake than his.

Joel’s eyes shifted between your own, pupils entirely dilated.  Blaming it on the alcohol helped settle your stomach.

“I know y-you don’t stick around for my benefit.”

"God forbid we enjoy each other's company, Joel." Your eyes burned into his. You enjoyed your ability to make him bashful in his stupor. Just a look, and he was crumbling.

You saw it coming. You could have stopped it, but it wasn’t even the length of a decent kiss. It was soft and fleeting because you pulled back to never speak of it again. You doubted Joel remembered, but you could never be sure what he’d admit to.

----

“Did you ever-

“Ellie…” You said her name slowly in warning.

She retracted fast, “Joel and you-

“No.”

Your answer came off harshly. You knew where she wanted to go; she’d circled the topic for hours.

“Can I ask one question?”

“That was a question.” You looked at her again pointedly, “Shoot.”

“Why’d you stay in Boston?”

Sitting with the statement, you focused on the road. Most around you was barren and destroyed but offered an unconventional peacefulness. Sometimes you imagined if you’d be better off in isolation than in a QZ. But you could never bring yourself to just disappear like that.

“As hard as you might try,” You started, pulling the car to the side, “You can’t be alone in this world. With a purpose or not, it just doesn’t work.”

The sudden sway of the car disturbed the sleeping figure in the back. Joel attempted to hide his jolt as he sat up but was already looking out the window for trouble.

“We stoppin’?” Joel’s voice filled the car while the engine cooled.

Joel looked to you for reassurance. Ellie pointed that out to you, the way he valued you despite his resentment.

“We’ve gotten far enough today.” You tossed the keys back to him. “We need food and rest.”

“Alright.”

Your exchanges were clipped.

Yet, you valued the journey with Ellie. Selfishly, the task provided a reason to see Joel again. It had become easier to spend time apart. It became a habit. But even with a quiet meal shared and conversations led by Ellie, it felt good to be with him again.

The pressure shifted. No longer were ration cards on your mind, nor were the curfews you struggled to follow. Something about the night felt freeing despite the heavy responsibility that it meant. Maybe it was the privilege of feeling safe with Joel since he created a protective bubble, sacrificing his rest for yours.

You heard Joel get up when he thought yours and Ellie’s breathing steadied. You were going to leave it, but sleep was hard to come by with your mind racing.

Joel saw your shadow first. But the hand that brushed between his shoulder blades still made him flinch. He spoke in hushed tones, looking to ensure that Ellie was still asleep, “I hope you didn’t come over here to tell me we’re safe.”

“Didn’t say that.”  You frowned. He knew you well; you wore your concerns on your face. You just wished he didn’t hold such defiance for them.  “But we’ll be alright for the night-

“Don’t.”

Joel wanted to be in control of everything down to the smallest detail.

You knew it was a way of coping, his way, but it never sat right with you. Especially now, as you watched Joel scrutinize the area you chose, you could feel the criticism he was holding back from the moment you parked the car.

Did you even survey the terrain?

Too much open space. No clear route out.

You know better than this.  

“We’re the perfect targets.”

“Joel-

“We know how this works,” He voiced over you. Even with you there, his surveillance didn’t change as he remained on a swivel.  “It was exactly what we did.”

Joel’s emotions were catching up, but he still held onto a forced restraint. He was expecting resistance, an argument from you. But you heard what he said, how Ellie needed to hear it, to believe him.

No one’s gonna find us.

It was a promise. Something Joel was determined to control.

The wind was picking up the later the night became, and any rustle was faced with a gun barrel.  It caused chills to litter your arms out of apprehension. You tried to comfort yourself with your arms tucked to your chest, but it only shifted Joel’s attention.

If you tried hard enough, you could guess what he would say to you. We need to stay sharp. You could feel Joel’s hesitation, though. It happened every time he pushed you away.

There was merit to your diversion, but Joel only allowed it for so long.

“Get some rest.” He nodded toward his forgotten sleeping bag, “No good if both of us are tired.”

----

The car was gone. The brief companions too. Your heart felt permanently caught in your throat. Adrenaline replaced everything. But it was wearing you thin.

“Where are you going?” Respite clung to Joel’s question as his eyes followed your figure up from his crouched position.

Like a cat, you stretched until something deep within your spine popped. You moved towards the shore of the small body of water you all settled by.

Time was at the forefront of Joel’s mind. Time was no longer on your side, meaning the sooner, the better pressured every minute. Daylight became the most valuable thing. And by the looks of it, you were on your way to wasting it.

“We smell, Joel.” You state as you discard the knife strapped around your waist. You were meant to be cleaning them in the water, preparing them for the next fight the way he had.

But your body was sore. You could imagine the pain Joel felt was much worse, physical or not. He put his body first rather than having you or Ellie be the brunt of it all.

Mornings were sacred to you. It was when the birds sang at dawn because the crisp, moist air carried their songs and their meanings farther through the same air that filled your lungs in fluid refreshment.

 You pulled your shirt over your head and looped your thumbs in the waistband of your pants as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs.

For the moment, Joel’s eyes lingered. He looked for bites. He knew he wouldn’t find anything, but he had to be sure. Instead, Joel found deep hues of bruises still healing from Kansas City.

Almost wholly above the horizon, the sun highlighted the mist rising off the body of water. It veiled your body the closer you were to where the water and the rocks met. Yet, Joel watched on until your arms maneuvered behind your back, searching for the clasp of your bra.

As if the sun was directly in his eyes, Joel looked up, avoiding seeing something that wasn’t meant for him. Except, it didn’t stop him from passing along a warning, “Don’t go out far.”

The dirt from the past days felt like a second layer of skin had embedded into your own, suffocating you. You finally waded into the freezing water to rid yourself of it.

But not before throwing a comment over your shoulder, “Join me, then.”

Your words were like an idle threat that was only met with silence. You knew he was contemplating the offer. Always thinking.

The water was cold, goosebumps littering your skin within minutes and creating peaks where Joel refused to look. He scolded himself for the way his cock twitched at just the idea.

You leaned back so you were nearly floating on your back. Above, a bird glided hypnotically in a wide circle.  It seemed you weren’t the only one seeking to rid yourself of a sense of weariness. The cool water swallowed you whole, caressing your skin and relaxing your muscles.

“Someone’s gotta stay with Ellie.” Joel voiced his decision. It was an excuse, what he was supposed to say.

There was no point in fighting it. Instead, you submerged yourself completely; the water consumed you. The longer you stayed under, the closer Joel edged to the water, ensuring you’d come up for a breath.

When you finally reemerged, you held a wicked grin.

“Don’t do that.” Joel frowned at your teasing. His eyes remained downcast, avoiding your eye. The rocks seemed more fascinating than how you became more siren-like by the minute.  “I’m gonna find Ellie.”

“She deserves some privacy.” Despite her continuous puns, you were receptive to the fact that she was still impacted.

You all were.

Hyper vigilance became the enemy that threatened to consume Joel whole. Sleep was no longer negotiable. Every movement dragged worry, invited agitation, and controlled his violence. Joel’s chest was tight, and breathing felt hard to come by. He was moments away from unraveling.

“...There won’t be another invitation, Joel.”

Joel’s loaded gaze burned right through you as he took off his clothes. While he was busy shrugging out of his shirt, you took the opportunity to tread out further. Your back was to him, but you heard the swishing of disturbed water.

You reveled in the way your skin burned for him. He’d seen you naked years ago. But not like this, never like this.

----

Joel’s eyes followed the curve of your body. Your chest swayed as you moved around freely. His pounding heart clocked how too much time had passed for him to sneak out. He was frozen.

“You’re not Tommy.” You let out a breath of relief despite your surprise.

The lace rode high on your hips, accentuating your natural curve. Your chest was perked at the sudden attention of being caught so bare.   Regardless of the incessant ringing in your ears, you stayed stone still, giving him a chance to say something.

Yet, he shook his head, backing out the door he’d come through, mumbling expected apologies.  Joel used the key under the fern and let himself in.

For days he’d been asking Tommy for his tools back. And now, they were forgotten with each hurried step.

You threw on the closest shirt, chasing after him. “Wait!”

“I didn’t mean to-

“Joel, let me explain-

“No, I shouldn’t have-I-I’ll just-”

You found a way to stand before him, blocking his escape route perfectly. “Let’s just slow down…” Your hands were up in defense, mirroring his own. “It’s not what you think.”

Of all people, you wanted Joel to hear you. But the silence was heavy and lacked a proper explanation. You could see the flush that took over his coloring. It was sweet in a way, but you were too mortified to know what to make of it. It wasn’t exactly taught how to handle these sorts of things in school, so you stalled.

“Can I make you some coffee?” An invitation to linger.

Joel looked at you and saw your bare feet moving toward him with hope. He hadn’t meant to, but his eyes scanned your bare legs; the picture of the intricate fabric underneath the oversized shirt made his skin prick. It took him a moment to realize the shirt was his, one Tommy most likely nicked under his nose.

Doubting you knew what that did to him, Joel shook his head, “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“One cup.” You promised.

The air was tense when you made it to the kitchen. You insisted on a fresh pot, but the drops felt like they took ages to fill it enough for its purpose. The hem of the shirt skirted the boundary of indecency, but you thought nothing of it. Your focus was on the longing stare Joel was giving you.

“Tommy and I…” You started with a shaky breath. You were sure Joel knew all about the drifting relationship. “I thought maybe this would…” It felt strange explaining yourself the way you had. But you wanted it to be known that even to you, it felt out of character. “He doesn’t look at me the same anymore…”

Your words feigned a sense of yearning. But neither you nor Tommy could keep up the act. Your words seemed heavy, but it was so alleviating to say aloud. To be listened to.

But the smell of coffee pulled you back, reminding you to be a good host. Filling the mugs just below the brim, you broke the small barrier of the kitchen island. You held the mug close to your chest, the warmth working as emotional support while Joel toyed with the ceramic handle.

You lifted the mug to your lips, blowing lightly over the piping-hot coffee, “...But neither do I.”

“I can talk to Tommy if you…” No matter how much it made Joel regret the offer, Joel said the right thing. He couldn’t meddle where he didn’t belong. “I’m sure he’d understand.”

You laughed into your mug. “I’d rather this stay our thing.”

“You say that like this is going to happen again.”

“Joel Miller.” You said his name after a pause. He looked like a child in trouble. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, no, I-

“Joking.” You cut in just as awkwardly as he flushed.

You wanted the mood to lighten, needed it to.

But there was clumsiness in every movement, between your ongoing jitteriness and Joel’s restless fidgeting.  So, you moved to the window. On the sill held your half-empty carton of cigarettes, the ones you were trying hard not to touch these days.

With a soft glance back to Joel, you asked, “Mind if I?”

Joel could spot the influences of Tommy in you. Or maybe you had passed along your habits. Either way, it was your home of sorts. Who was he to tell you no?

You had such dexterity with the process. It was like a ritual how you rolled the cigarette over your lips before lighting it. Then after a deep exhale, you utilized the perpetually open window to tap the beginnings of ash.  

“I don’t mean to drag you into all of this…”  You trailed off through an exhale of smoke through your nose. Joel could see the appeal now. “I just don’t-…Tommy’s my friend, and if I…I don’t know what’ll happen if we’re not…”

The end of something always hurt everyone around you. You all were just playing your roles in delaying the inescapable. But the questions of the future haunted you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to let it all go.

“I’ll let you leave…” You toyed with the lit cigarette that was on its last limb as you spoke. Joel’s silence was becoming deafening. “Promise I won’t hold you up any longer.”

You were sure he had more pressing matters than to comfort you through an inevitable breakup.

“Tommy’ll get over it.” Joel sat back with more relaxation now that he spoke his mind. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

----

Joel kept his distance deliberately. He made the venture into the water seem like another task. In and out.

“I don’t bite, you know.”

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stay quiet for too long. He knew what it meant to join you, but he made an effort to seem detached.

“Just giving you some privacy.” Joel echoed your words.

“Right.”  Your frustration was clear. You carried it with you for the handful of days that passed. Your frustrations didn’t lie with him like Joel chose to believe.

Instead, guilt filled Joel’s chest. It had been gnawing at him since he left Boston. He should have left you there if he were as reliable as everyone claimed he was. You’d be without bruises. You’d be without his burden. Leaving without you meant there would be no return.

But you knew Joel. You had to remind yourself.  You knew what he was thinking, what he wanted. That’s how you knew moving towards him would benefit the both of you.

You moved gradually, leading the interaction by brushing his hair behind his ears. The greys of his hair darkened with the water you carried on your fingertips.  He looked younger. He looked like your Joel.

You reached for him, pulling him through the cool water to you. Joel was stiff when your chest met his warmly. He thought of pulling away, but you felt so peaceful that it swallowed him. Your arms wrapped around him with comfort. Your body settled in front of his, gently pressing your hips against him, giving him only an ounce of pressure to entice him.

He noted every twitch. Shyness wasn’t questioned; that barrier was broken years ago. It enabled you to trace his face. Every detail was already committed to memory.

You imagined what he’d say to you all those years ago—anything to make a smile crack.

Careful, now.

All you’re gonna find is a whole lot of ugly.

The scar above his eyebrow marked when your feelings for Joel first latched on. You were blinded by anger then, but the blood scared you. He promised you it was a graze and that he still had his life. But that wasn’t enough proof for you.

When your thumb traced over the faint line, Joel finally found his voice again, “Your shooting’s still sloppy.”

The look Joel held was intimidating, scrutinizing, but you knew he was trying to be witty.  

“See now, when you say things like that…” You whispered softly due to the proximity, “I don’t regret shooting you.”

He hummed, appreciating your touch that ventured to his shoulders. You could feel under your hands the tension he held. You wanted nothing more than to provide relief.

“Joel.”

Just his name made your desire clear. He wanted to touch you all those years ago, but he’d never betray his brother like that. But now you invited him to you without any barriers. There was hesitancy in the hold Joel found on your hips. His mind wandered; wavered between the need and the want.

Starting at the swirl of hair on his chest, you followed the trail down until Joel’s breath hitched. Joel felt like he was about to lose it when your hand wrapped around him.

“This feel okay?” You moved your hand against him, slow and soft.

Water dripped from his nose to your shoulder as he nodded eagerly.  His groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating against your own. You tread in dangerous territory but recognized the privilege of his trust.

This was for Joel. You needed this just as much as he did. You didn’t worry if it functioned as a thank you for keeping you alive, an apology for the trouble you’d caused him, or a confession of your own.

It didn’t matter when you indulged in your own lust.

“Do you think of me when you’re on your own?” You asked, fingers wrapped around his shaft, squeezing him until you felt his pulse in your grip.

“Oh- Fuck-” He cut himself off before he let a pet name slip. Joel’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, imprinting his touch into your skin, burned to your very bone.

“Hmm?” You edged him further. Gently, you continued to pump him and move your thumb over his tip.

Joel’s ragged breath fell on your pulse point with each moan as you continued to pump him rhythmically. His hand came up to your throat in a tender hold. His lips hover over yours but refrained from connecting.

It would be too intimate if you had.

“Do you want me to?” The hold gave him dominance even as he shuddered under your touch. Always desiring control.

The water around you rippled with your continued movements. With his free hand, his thumb rubbed gently at the sensitive skin that was near the pebbles of your breast, but he made no effort to touch it just yet.  His words and touch were a deadly combination, the kind that made you ache.

“Would that be so bad?” You spoke on his lips, feeling the tickle of his mustache. The more you worked on his release the more you felt his warm pants turn into deep moans. “Come on now, Miller,” You coaxed softly, moving up and down his length with a lively pattern, teasingly and tauntingly. “Tell me.”

Joel’s words were caught in his throat as ecstasy flowed through his veins as the pleasure crashed. His hips jerked against you as his breathing became ragged and his moans became filthy.

He sighed with relief, abandoning himself. He groaned into you, nuzzling his nose in your neck as the aftershocks made him tremble. He could feel your hand threading in his hair, keeping him in your tight embrace.

“Yes.”

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)

Part 2 - “Peter”

Azriel x Reader/Rhysand’s Sister - Angst

Visions of a past life plague Felina as she recovers from burnout. Rhys seeks answers. Azriel comforts his mate as past-trauma comes crashing down on her. A former lover tracks her down.

Part 1 - El Paso Series Masterlist Part 3 - Vampire

warnings: past trauma, panic attack, references to sex, elements involving death, blood drinking, violence

Forgive me, Peter. My lost fearless leader.

“Quit fidgeting, Y/N.” Mother whispers as she runs a brush through my tangled hair.

Father is in Windhaven this week and I’ve been free to roam the skies as I please, whenever mother turns a blind eye. The arts district is vibrant with life and so often my family carries me out kicking and screaming. Well, aside from my brother who hides his amusement behind a mask of irreverence. He knows I love the rainbow.

Of course, Rhys has been gone on courtly business for weeks and I am dying to see him. My brother, the one person who truly understands me. Well, as much as one’s older brother can understand their sister.

I miss him.

“Sorry, mother.” I sigh. “I’m just excited to see my brother tomorrow on our travels.”

A pause of the brush strokes gliding through my hair shoots worry through me. I grit my teeth, bracing for her next words. “What is it?” I inquire, turning to see Mother’s lovely face downcast before her warm gaze meets mine. “He’s been held up and cannot travel with us tomorrow.”

“Oh.” I sigh. Hurt running through me. It’s not his fault, he’s busy and a far more benevolent leader than our father is a ruler, though he plays the game quite well.

An hour later as I lay in bed my heart races, my thoughts spiraling into the places I do my best to forget. The males of this court always let me down. Oh the perils of being the second born heir, younger than those surrounding me, female, and never taken seriously.

The goddess of timing, once found us beguiling.

A note appears at my bedside.

“Night’s truest bloom, there is no starlight without you. Won’t you cast thy gaze upon my room? Xx, Peter”

I smile at the flirtatious note, biting my lip. “You know I can’t but think of me as you bask in sunlight while mother and I trudge through the Illyrian forests tomorrow. Rhys bailed.”

“I don’t like that you’re traveling alone. Shall I come escort you?”

I blush at the thought of walking arm-in-arm with him. Gods, I’m so totally enamored. How did it end up like this?

“You High Fae, so territorial.” I write back.

“You are partly High Fae yourself, my lady. In fact, I’m pretty sure you offered to kill the last female who got too close for your liking.”

My stomach turns. I would. The female’s a lech.

“Semantics. I’ll see you when I get back. Dream filthy dreams of me.” I press a kiss to the letter and send it off.

“Only the filthiest, my sweet Felina.”

She said she was trying. Peter, was she lying? My ribs get the feeling she did.

—————-

Felina

“Y/N?” A cautious voice stirs me from my dream. I wake to find myself in a very large bed, surrounded by luxurious blankets that likely cost twenty-fold the standard linens I’d become accustomed to - the ornate room around me more spacious than anywhere I could recall resting my head.

My body is sore, lethargic. I stretch my arms and - ouch - stiff as well.

“Take it, easy, okay? Your body was under a lot of stress.” I blink my bleary eyes to see Azriel’s concerned gaze fixed upon me.

My body feels weighed down from exhaustion but my heart, it feels heaviest of all - a feeling I’ve continued to carry since Azriel found me at the Inn. Shouldn’t I be happy to have a piece of my life in place? I have a mate - and from what I can recall, a damn good one as well.

I open my mouth to speak but his eyes go distant, a look I’m familiar with but trying to place.

An urgent knock intrudes upon the silence, a look of irritation crossing Azriel’s features before he mutters an apology to me. “He couldn’t wait for me to speak with you apparently.”

My gut clenches, dread overtaking it as the door opens. In walks a male with a face so familiar that my heart’s pace rushes. My brother, Rhys.

“Y/N.” He chokes out, love and longing written all over his beautiful face. “You’re home.”

The name. Y/N. So familiar and so foreign. I remember it now but Felina brings me comfort. “Felina, please call me Felina.” Pain flickers across his features before giving a subtle nod. “Okay, Felina.”

His eyes sparkle as tears form in his eyes. “How? How are you here? Where have you been?”

I reach a hand to touch his face, the scruff beneath itching my palm, his hand instantly finding it and leaning in. It feels so warm and familiar and yet, I yank my hand away like lightning. “I don’t know.” My breaths quicken. Flashes of centuries of lies and manipulation rush into my head and it’s all too much. I can’t process this. I can’t relive it.

My hands find my torso, wrapping myself tightly, I can’t catch my breath. The hot blur of tears fill my eyes as I screw them shut. “I’m sorry- I- I“ can’t finish the sentence as I heave, trying my best to even out my breathing and failing miserably. The inky feel of power seeps from my skin and I can’t process the male voices speaking beside me. My name; a cold, icy voice giving a command; a broken voice of night giving in to whatever was commanded as heavy footsteps pace away, and then -

Darkness. Warmth. A heartbeat in my ear. A brush of lips against my hair. Azriel.

I stay there, sobbing as the emotions crash into me like the surf to rocky shores. The pain doesn’t alleviate for what feels like an hour, the rhythm of my mate’s chest finally bringing me back to the present.

When my eyes open, Azriel is draped over me, wings cocooning protectively around my body, his heartbeat the steady constant in my ear. “I’ve got you.” He whispers. I give into his warmth and drift off again.

————————

Said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

Lovers in a field. Brushed hands at balls. Green eyes meeting violet. Shared smiles.

Words from the mouths of babes

Tears cried into a broad shoulder. Whispers of “It’s not fair”, drunken chants of “fuck the cauldron!”, late nights and long dances beside reflections of starlight.

Promises oceans deep

Young lovers questioning eternity, the forces of fate. Letters signed with pen names.

But never to keep

————————-

“Brother, you need to sleep.” Rhysand stressed into Azriel’s mind.

The stubborn bastard had refused to leave Y/N’s side for the days she’d been unconscious. A huge part of Rhys beamed at that. Who was he to question the bonds forged by fate? Was Azriel being his sister’s mate ideal? In a sense, no. As an older brother, he’d always felt protective over her. But Y/N had always gravitated to Azriel, even as a child his shadows could calm her when she was fussy, his patient demeanor had always been a soothing balm to her inquisitive mind. He’d listen carefully as she pondered the great mysteries of life out loud long after the rest of the family had tuned her out.

“I’m fine.” Azriel’s conscious growled in return.

He sure as hell didn’t sound it.

“Let me send darkness to soothe her, just long enough for you to eat and get some sun.”

A pause and then the mirthful reply of “Is it an order?”

Maintaining composure the High Lord replied, “Is it necessary for me to do so?”

Ten minutes later, Azriel appeared at the bottom of the stairs, the light of the foyer emphasizing his hallowed eyes and drained skin. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks.” Azriel muttered.

Rhys knew he sounded like a prick but it was true. “How about you go sun your wings in the garden?”

The energy of the room shifted as Azriel’s eyes rolled, caught between humor and bitterness as he reminded his brother for the fifth time that week of the current circumstances. “Despite your good intentions, you seem to forget that prolonged exposure to the sun is exactly what I do not need.”

“Shit! I am never going to get used to this.” Rhys placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Fine, sit. Amren brought a fresh blood supply this morning. She says it’s goat from Sevenda’s but she was in a mood, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the blood of whatever poor souls had the nerve to cross her path on the way here.”

Azriel wanted to grin at the attempted humor but didn’t have it in him. What a strange turn of the tables, Amren no longer the bloodthirsty one.

The males sat in silence, Azriel nursing the goblet of blood Nuala had kindly brought in to him. Soft footsteps padded into the space, a familiar floral scent wafting through the room, as Elain entered.

“Oh.” the middle Archeron sister gasped. “I’m sorry to interrupt.” She gave a wary smile, sad eyes falling on Azriel before flicking back to Rhys.

“Not interrupting, Elain. What do you have there?” Rhys glanced to a piece of paper in her clutched in her grasp. “Oh, it’s nothing,” she spoke too quickly, her pulse fluttering. “Writing secret love letters, Elain?”

She shook her head, glancing to Azriel once again. It grated Rhys to know the recent history, or whatever it was, that transpired between Azriel and Elain. With his sister being thrown into the mix now, he was battling that instinct to protect her at all costs.

Elain blushed a soft shade of pink, nearly matching that of her pastel dress. One hand grasping the delicate wrist of the opposite. “I’ve been writing to Lucien.”

“Ah, and how is dear Little Lucien?” Rhys raised an eyebrow, lip quirking upward.

“He’s fine.” Her words were clipped. “I have to go now. Cerridwen is waiting for me in the gardens. We’re planting a new variant of night-blooming jasmine.” She gave a nod and scurried from the room.

Azriel’s lips remained in a firm line as Rhys nursed the whiskey he’d poured himself.

Months ago, her words would have hurt, sliced like a dagger at Azriel’s own lack of a bond. Now, well, he still felt jaded toward Rhys for the solstice that he essentially banned him from pursuing a relationship with Elain. But- it worked for the best. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than his own mate, his Y/N, his Felina - as she insisted she be called.

Guilt tugged at him, he should be up with her, not downstairs. What if she needed him? What if she woke with a night terror and he wasn’t there?

“She’s fine, brother.” Rhys broke him from his thoughts. “Your shadows will alert you the moment she wakes, and I have darkness soothing her.”

Shaking his head, Azriel rested his face in his own palms as if he’d rub his face hard enough and all concerns would fade away.

Finally, he looked up. “How do you do it, Rhys? How do you stay away when there are so many questions that need answered?”

Sitting his glass down onto a coaster, Rhys leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “I know she is in good hands. You brought her back to me. And I know, a mate can help her right now far more than an older brother.”

The thought warmed the icy chill that had settled into Azriel’s bones, he reveled in the moment before replying. “There’s so much we don’t know- So much we need to know.”

“You’re the spymaster, Az, and she’s your mate. I know you need answers. And gods, don’t think for a moment that I don’t want answers too. It takes every ounce of will not to just dive in to see what I can find, but…. It’s her story to tell. And, when I send my darkness to soother her, her shields, there’s something about them that my own darkness recoils from.”

Digesting the words, Azriel took another swig from his goblet. “I need to go back upstairs.”

Rhys only gave a knowing nod.

—————————

Love’s never lost when perspective is earned

Dreams shifted from young love and light to pain and darkness plague my sleep state with visions of bloodshed on pristine snow. Brutal hands of power-hungry males. Sharpened blades. A mother’s scream. Shredded wings falling to the earth.

Lost to the Lost Boys chapter of your life

And then, warm hands and a familiar face. Love and terror in emerald eyes. Strong arms carrying a broken body. Cries of “Please just hold on for me.”

A promise of “Stay right here. I’m getting help.” The back of a lupine creature running toward the distance.

Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on.

The effort of holding on is growing too hard. My head slumps as blood trickles from my wingless back. An unheard plea of “Peter!” falls from frozen lips.

Then there is darkness. Void. Impending death.

A cold, pale hand chills my skin. A cruel, beautiful face promises eternity. Unfamiliar arms drag me away and I do not fight.

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

———————————

Azriel

Azriel had finally settled in beside a sleeping Felina, resisting the urge to take her in his arms and never let go.

His shadows alerted him to the breach in the wards first, shock running through him at the intrusion. Apparating to the entryway, he found Rhys at the front door, baring his teeth at the intruder, waves of night rolling off of him in a way that would send most running.

Icy rage shot through Azriel’s veins at the audacity of the male to show up at their door. The urge first, ask questions later pulling him toward the intruder. His lunged was interrupted by a sharp inhale behind him behind, diverting him from his war path.

His mate had walked down the stairs, her first time out of bed since arriving to the River House. Her slim form trembled, those otherworldly eyes swirling with emotions he couldn’t comprehend.

“Peter.” She whispered through rapid breaths. Azriel ran to her, bracing an arm around her back to steady her uneven footing as she climbed down the grand staircase.

The blonde male fell to his knees, his tears falling ricocheting off the marble floors.

Azriel has no time to ponder the incorrect name she’d used, focusing on her steps, observing the sight before him. He’d only ever seen the male solemn or filled with rage. Never this.

And Felina, there was no fear or hate in her eyes, no wariness, as she took in the male. No, the only emotion he could now read was one his heart wasn’t prepared to face.

So, Azriel watched as his mate’s eyes lined with tears, her slow steps increasing and filling with purpose as she reached the entryway, stepping out of his brace and flinging herself into the arms of the High Lord of the Spring Court.

—————————

Tamlin

Are you still a mind reader? A natural scene stealer?

He didn’t believe it when Lucien wrote to him sending word that Elain mentioned that Y/N was in Velaris. That she was alive. There was no way and getting his hopes up would kill him.

How many nights had he spent plagued by the memories of the day it all came crashing down? The ruination of a beautiful friendship, of a love forged from two kindred souls damned by fate, and the role he played in it.

They were both so jaded at an early age, he and Y/N. And for whatever reason he couldn’t fathom, the princess of night found the youngest heir of spring to be worthy of her presence. She was everything and he was just, a lost male. Everyone wanted her time but she wanted his, and so began the affair of sneaking off at parties, stolen kisses under starry nights, long rolls in soft grasses, love notes written with pen names.

He was Peter, the lost boy forced to grow up too soon - who wanted nothing more than a life of music and poetry but doomed to strengthen ties to Hybern, to be married off like seed stock to a mate that he hated, Hybern’s wicked general.

And Felina, feline, curious and sleek as a cat. She’d been heartbroken by a one-sided mating bond, by a mate who only saw her as the child she once was, a mate too busy pining over her cousin to notice the gem he had right in front of him.

They’d found comfort and peace with eachother, two young adults who could be whomever they wished in their stolen moments.

They were careful to avoid being caught. So careful, until the day he snuck off to watch as she traveled through the Illyrian forests with her mother, that instinct to protect those he cared for surfacing at such an early age. He thought he’d lost her forever. He’d tried so desperately to save her. By the time he returned with a healer, she had disappeared. To this day, Felina had been his greatest loss.

And moments ago when her cry called into his mind, “Peter!”. There was nothing that could hold him back from her, no wards too strong, no distance too far to winnow. There was only he and his need to see her for himself.

And now, here she was in his arms. Repeating over and over how sorry she was for not holding on, for not having faith that he’d return.

All he could choke out was, “Felina.”

We both did the best we could do, underneath the same moon in different galaxies.

—————————————

Tags:

General ACOTAR: @lilah-asteria

Series tag list: @saltedcoffeescotch @julesofvolterra @glittervame @nocasdatsgay

SPOILER FOR THIS STORY (in case you need to know who is end game) : click here

[vodika-vibes]

I seriously love your work and I’m so glad I caught your follower celebration in time!! May I please have jonquil and coriander with Captain Rex and F!Reader? Reader is a mechanic for the 501st? And Rex secretly loves her and carries her back to her quarters when she dozes off at her workstation in the hangar after long nights post-campaigns when she’s exhausted and is insanely curious about her tattoos that peek out from under her coveralls?

It's A Secret

Summary: You want Rex. Rex wants you. It takes a long night and a short conversation to make either of you do anything about it.

Pairing: Captain Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 1619

Warnings: Smutty, though there's no actual detail

Prompts: Jonquil - you occupy my thoughts, Coriander - lust

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is okay! The actual smut didn't feel right for some reason, so I ended up deleting it. Sorry. 😔

You release an exhausted noise as you finish the last of the items on your list. As much as you enjoy your job, and as much as you appreciate the fact that you’re useful to the war effort, it’s still exhausting.

You end each day with aching muscles and an exhausted brain. 

And while you’re glad for it, it makes it easy to sleep, you’re more than ready for the war to be over. Partly because you haven’t had a proper spa day in what feels like forever, but mostly because you’re worried for the boys you serve with, and you want them to take a break.

They deserve a break.

You stretch your arms over your head with a groan. All you have to do is clean up your mess and then you’re free for the night. Free to shower and crash.

Ugh, imagine having time for fun.

“Still hard at work, I see.” 

You turn on your stool and beam at the man standing only a little bit away from you, “Captain! Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Rex absently rolls his shoulder as he walks over to you, and you can’t help but marvel at how handsome he is. Sure, he looks like all of his brothers, but there’s something…regal about him.

It’s insanely attractive.

“Any word from up high on how much longer we’re going to be here?” You ask as you hop from your stool and start cleaning up, “I’m not sure how much longer the equipment is going to tolerate the muck.” You say with a scrunch of your nose.

Rex laughs quietly as he claims your abandoned stool, “The equipment or you, mesh’la?”

“Both!” You spin and point at him with a wrench, “The equipment is absorbing my bad vibes. I’m so tired of the muck!”

Rex laughs a little louder, “Sadly, we’re going to be here for a couple months more.”

“I deserve hazard pay.” You announce as you turn and throw your wrench into its place, and then walk back to your bench and organize some things that stay on your table. 

“Mm, sure you do.” 

You turn away from him and sigh at the mess that is the shelving. You really don’t have time to deal with this during the day, but it needs to be done. So you take a steadying breath, and pull your hair up off your neck into a knot, and you start to work.

Though, you pause when you hear Rex make a strangled noise.

“Something wrong?”

“Is that a tattoo on your neck?” Rex asks, his voice sounding odd.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I have a bunch of them. Just, they’re normally hidden under my jumpsuit.” You flash a small grin at him, and then turn your back towards him.

“Huh. I didn’t know you had any.” Rex admits, and you turn back to look at him when you hear him get to his feet, “I should go make sure that Fives isn’t harassing Jesse too much. Don’t work too hard, Mesh’la.”

“Sure, sure.” You wave him off,  “I have to finish this, though. So I’ll be here for a while.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re able to focus.

Honestly, you’d think that the other mechanics would know how to clean up after themselves.

It’s late. Late enough that even he should be asleep, but Rex is filled with a nervous energy that he can’t seem to shake. 

Well. Not nervous. Not really.

His mind is locked on the flash of blue he caught a glimpse of on his mesh’la’s neck. He is insanely curious about what tattoos she has, and, honestly, the fact that she has tattoos at all only increases his attraction to her. 

And he already fists his cock to the thought of her lips wrapped around him on a nightly basis.

Well.

Not just her lips. 

In any event, he’s wound too tightly to actually get any sleep.

So here he is, wandering the ship, trying to get his mind off his mesh’la and her tattoos, and failing. 

His feet bring him to the hanger, and then to the corner of the hanger where the maintenance team works. Sure, she won’t still be there, but being in her space might help him clear his mind.

Rex stops when he sees his mesh’la dozing at her workbench. 

He should leave. He shouldn’t bother her. She works so hard-

He steps closer to her and brushes some loose hair off of her face. She shouldn’t be sleeping here, it’s not good for her back. He moves his hand to her shoulder, to shake her awake, when she mumbles something in her sleep and buries herself in her arms.

And Rex realizes that he can’t wake her up. 

He knows where her room is, he could carry her to her room, but he doesn’t know the door code. He has no reason to know the door code. The medbay is an option, there are plenty of beds…but Kix’s head will explode if he brings someone there because he doesn’t want to wake her up.

The only other option is his bed.

He stamps down on the images flashing through his mind without really giving them a second thought. She’s tired, overworked, and needs someplace to sleep. He can sleep on the floor or at his desk or something. 

Carefully he lifts her into his arms, and she whines before she rolls towards the warmth of his body.

Well…at least it’s late enough that no one is going to give him a hard time about this. Or her, for that matter.

Rex makes it back to his room in record time, and makes sure that the door is locked behind him, before he carefully settles his mesh’la on his bed. He removes her boots, and sets them next to the bed, and then he covers her with the blanket, and he steps away to sit at his desk.

He powers on his datapad and starts reading through some reports. It’s too bad that she never bothered to change out of her jumpsuit. He really is curious about her tattoos.

You stir when something wakes you up. 

You’re curled around a pillow, though it’s not your pillow. It doesn’t smell like your shampoo, and you slowly realize that you’re not in your room. You blink at the bare wall in utter bafflement, and then you sit up.

“...Rex?”

He looks up from his datapad, and a small smile crosses his face, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“...why am I in your room?” You ask, more confused than upset.

“You fell asleep at your workstation, and I didn’t want to leave you there. And it felt wrong waking you up.” Rex explains.

You glance at your chrono, 2 am “...have you been awake this whole time?”

“...I couldn’t sleep, so-”

You scramble out of the bed, “Rex! You need your sleep!”

“I wasn’t about to sleep in the same bed as you, mesh’la.” Rex points out.

“That’s very sweet, and very respectful, but Rex, I wouldn’t have cared.” You say as you walk over to him and pull him out of his chair, “You’re you.”

“...thank you?”

“I just meant. I trust you. I feel safe with you. I know you would never do anything.” You clarify. 

“Ah.” Rex pauses, “That makes sense.” He lightly pulls his arm out of your hands, and sets his hand on your shoulder, “I would have to lay pretty close to you for us both to fit, mesh’la, practically on top of you.”

You release a frustrated noise, and stand on your toes to kiss the corner of his lips.

He blinks at you, surprised, and then something almost predatory slides through his gaze, “Mesh’la, I want to see your tattoos.” His hand slides to the zipper high at your neck, “Can I see them?”

You frown at him, you just kissed him and he wants to see your tattoos? That’s not at all how you wanted him to react. “Yeah, if you like.”

He eases the zipper all the way down, and then he pushes the rough material off your shoulders. You move to catch the top of your jumpsuit before it falls too far, but Rex is faster than you.

He catches your wrists and allows the material to fall around your feet. Rex brings your hands to his lips and he presses feather light kisses against the pads of your fingers, and you stare at him in awe.

“Rex-”

“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” Rex asks, his voice low and rough.

“...tell me.” You whisper up to him. 

Rex’s hands slide up your arms, and then down your slides to lightly grip your hips. “Mm, I fist my cock to you every night.” He breathes out, his grip tight around your hips, “You’re always the first thing I think of when I wake up. I have dreams about burying my cock into you and fucking you into my bed until I’m the only thing on your brain.”

You slide your hands up his chest and then wrap your arms around his neck, “What else?”

He chuckles and he moves his lips to your neck, “Love the idea of marking you up. Making sure everyone knows that you’re spoken for.”

You release a breathless laugh, “Possessive.” 

“Mm, maybe.” He nips at your neck, “I want you in my bed, pretty girl. Naked and wet and needy-” He trails off, dragging his lips from your neck to your ear, “What do you think?”

“Please.” You whisper up to him.

In the end, Rex wasn’t able to see your tattoos until morning as he was a little…distracted.

[robinette-green]

Astrological Bullets

They tell you that blood is thicker than water, but I disagree. If I never see my brother again, it’ll be too soon. Not that I’ll ever get the chance. I’ve been tied to these railroad tracks for a few hours now, patiently waiting for a train to end it all. With the blindfold over my eyes, it’s hard to tell what time of day it is, but with the heat radiating off the metal underneath me, I knew the sun must be high in the sky. If a train didn’t end it, heat stroke or dehydration most certainly would.

When I heard the horse, at first, I thought that the heat had started to bring me hallucinations. It was odd. I had assumed that heat visions were just that, visual. The sound of steam being released into the air made me certain that I was firm in the grips of the desert madness until he spoke.

“You seem to be in a bit of a bind. Normally, I’d mind my business, but curiosity has gotten the better of me. What could a lovely lady like yourself have done to warrant being tied to these tracks?” There was an actual person… wild. What was releasing steam? Maybe I am hallucinating.

Licking my lips in a vain attempt to wet them, I tried to say something but had to stop and clear my throat. The sand and dry air had already done a number on me.

“I’d love to tell you… If you would be kind enough to untie me.” I could hear the man kneel down by my head, his shadow falling over me, blocking out some of the direct heat from the sun.

“I think I should hear your story first. You may be tied up for a good reason. I don’t want to go releasing you if you deserve to be where you’ve gotten yourself.”

I released a long, weary sigh.

“It’s simple, really,” I said with as much of a shrug as I could manage while tied to wood and steel.

“My brother owes Mr. Madison money.”

“I don’t see how that has anything to do with your current situation, lass.”

“Mr. Madison’s goons apprehended me early this morning. Either my bother gives him the money, or I’m left out here to meet whichever fate finds me first.”

“And seeing as you’re still here, I’m guessing that your bother hasn’t found a way to pay this, Mr. Madison, his money.”

I rolled my head, partly in exasperation and partially to relieve some of the ache from my neck. Being tied to railroad tracks is rather uncomfortable.

“He’s managed to do less than try. He was out here a few hours ago. Said this was the least I could do for him. Dying to rid him of his debts.” Turning my head to the side, I would have spat in anger, but my mouth was much too dry. I scowled instead, teeth grinding together.

“I hope his sorry ass is disembodied by a bull.”

“We may be able to arrange that.” The man said with a chuckle before leaning over me. Fingers brushed against my face, following the edges of the blindfold back behind my head so it could be removed. I blinked in the sudden light, squinting up at the dark figure blotting out the sun. There was a hat atop his head, but coming from the sides of his face, there seemed to be metal points. In fact, the longer I looked up at him, the more he seemed to be made of metal. Blue eyes glowed down at me as he watched for my reaction, a slight smile playing across his lips.

Pulling a knife from a boot, the man leaned over and sliced the ropes holding me down. Fingers took mine, and he helped me to sit up, a hand going to the small of my back to keep me steady as spots appeared in my vision and the world seemed to swirl around me.

“Careful there, darling. Heat’s already done a number on you.”

A canteen of water was carefully pressed to my lips, and I drank greedily, one of my hands gripping his wrist to keep myself steady.

“Thank you,” I murmured, leaning heavily against this metal man.

[seenoversundown]

Siren

Jake x Fem OC (AU)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (Minors DNI) Soft Dom (M) edging, teasing (flirting way not bullying) Hand kink, Oral (M receiving) , Penetrative sex, Cursing, Fingering (F receiving), Cute fluff and silly jokes at odd times.

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: I love these two so much 😭 Once I had the thought for them, I had to write it 🩷

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Siren (noun) 1. any of a group of female and partly human creatures in Greek mythology that lured mariners to destruction by their singing

Charlotte POV 

Opening the doors to the bar, I take a quick scan to see who else is working. Seeing that my favorite spot at the bar was open, I swiftly made my way over to claim it as mine once again. Where is he?  Nobody is behind the bar at the moment, but I can hear movement out back. 

“Helloooo, my dear!” Josh’s voice rings down the hall. 

“Oh, hi Josh, how are you?” 

“Great now that you’re here,” he starts, which seems charming to most. Still, I know what that means, “I should be off momentarily. Well, as soon as my wonderful brother finally shows up,” he says with a complacent smile plastered on his face. 

“What are you and Quinn doing for the evening?” I ask. 

“I let Quinn decide because I got my gift this morning,” he tells me, followed by a wink. 

Oh my god, Joshua, what the hell. 

I slowly blink at him before I respond, “That’s great, Josh. I’m so happy for you.” If I didn’t have my makeup done right now, I would be rubbing my eyes until I saw stars. I never needed that image in my head. 

The door chimes ring, causing us both to look over. Mmm, there he is. Jacob saunters over to me; his eyes always seem to find me when he enters a room. In his usual button-up, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, only the bottom half of the buttons were actually done. I love the way he’s so comfortable having his chest exposed, and maybe it’s selfish because I daydream about curling up with him every night. 

“Hi,” his tiny, raspy voice mumbles. His hand gently cups my jaw as he places a sweet kiss on my lips, followed by a few little pecks. 

“Hi,” I manage to squeeze out in between kisses, “I missed you,” I can feel his smile through the kiss. I’ll never get over that, before pulling back and running his hand down the back of my head. 

“I always miss you, honey,” he says, rounding the corner behind the bar. “Did you not order anything yet?” 

I simply shake my head ‘No.’ 

“I was waiting for you to make it.” Resting my chin into my hand, I watch his eyes light up. His hand gesturing for me to wait a minute, he quickly puts a drink together for me. 

“A Boulevardier for you, m’lady,” the English accent he loves coming through. 

“What’s the occasion?” I ask, my eyebrow-raising out of skepticism. 

He shrugs as he backs away to take care of other customers who just sat down.  Knowing him, he probably feels terrible that he has to work today. I can’t really say much, I have been working all week, and this is quite honestly the earliest I’ve been off.  

I will gladly sit here all night, though. I may have a little surprise of my own... Even though Valentine’s Day is overrated? Hush, I know it’s silly, but a girl can have fun sometimes, okay?  Ever since I met Jacob, he’s been an easy target. That sounds mean.. I just mean he’s  still a man. Sometimes, I take advantage of that, and honestly, it benefits us both. 

Watching him work is practically a hobby of mine at this point, anyway. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of it, his hands, his hands, his hands. The way he has gotten so confident in making drinks and talking to customers, it’s been like night and day since I first came in. He can quickly pour drinks without having to measure, and seeing him shaking drinks is… I’m better than no woman, alright? He’s so fine, and watching his arm muscles flex. GOD.  This may be a more potent drink than usual. 

“I’m sorry, this is how we have to spend Valentine’s together,” he finally admits. And the truth comes out, about time, Jacob. 

“No, it’s okay, really.” 

“No, no, I’ll make it up to you,” he says softly, reaching over to grab one of my hands, “I promise,” finishing with a little wink as he runs his thumb over the back of my hand. He promises? 

“And how are you going to do that?” I can’t help but ask. I have been spending too much time around Josh, and now, I’m way too nosy for my own good. 

“I have some ideas,” he says quietly, “I think you’ll enjoy them.”

“I guess we’ll see,” I tell him, the smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. How is he real?  

“Did you make my drink stronger tonight, or is it just made with extra love?” I ask, knowing it’s a bit cheesy, but Jacob is a sucker for romantic things. 

“You think I’m just trying to get you drunk?” He cocks an eyebrow, “Because you may be onto my plan.” Slapping my hand over my mouth, I can’t stop the giggle from escaping. 

“Jacob!” 

He leans over the bar slightly, gesturing for me to come closer. I stand on the little footrest bar of the barstool, leaning over the bar to meet him in the middle. 

“Can’t wait to hear you yelling that later,” he whispers quickly before turning to press a kiss on my cheek. JACOB– Two can play this game. 

My jaw going slack; I don’t even know what to say to him. My lack of response to him elicits the most beautiful smile from him. Nothing makes my heart swell more than seeing that boy smile. I watch as he turns, hearing his name called from the other end of the bar.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The bar gets more crowded now that the night has gone on; every seat at the bar is filled. I’ve had the pleasure of not having to ask for refills but receiving them, along with a few saucy glances from the most delicious bartender I’ve met. 

I tap on my phone to scroll through any notifications when the idea hits me. I click on my messages, seeing his cute little face pinned to the top. 

Me: Maybe I am sad that we’re here on Valentine's Day.. 🥺

I hit send and then wait for him to look at his phone. Please, please, please. He slides it out of his back pocket  and unlocks it. Glancing over to me, giving me a little frown before quickly typing away. 

Jacob ❤️:  i’m sorry honey, just a little longer then I’m all yours. 

‘I’m all yours’ making my heart flutter. Jacob is the most wonderful person I’ve ever encountered, and somehow, he’s mine. 

I need to pee. I wave him down and point to the bathrooms, knowing he’ll ensure nobody takes my seat. I scroll through my emails as I walk down the hall into the bathroom, managing to catch one of them as someone is coming out. I glance at myself in the mirror as I walk in, and suddenly the lightbulb goes off. Mmmm yes. 

I look in the mirror, fix my hair, and check to make sure my lipstick isn’t all over the place. I open the camera on my phone, facing the mirror, and pull up one side of my sweater dress. Revealing the black lace garter snug against my thigh, knowing it would drive him crazy. Taking the picture, a slight pout on my face; he best think I’m hot. Tugging my dress back down into place and locking my phone, I head back to the bar. 

Sliding into my seat, he’s already clocked me being back. It’s cute how fast he’ll catch me. Noticing that my drink is full and fresh, I go to take a sip of it, but as I lift the glass, I see there’s writing on the napkin. 

‘You look beautiful, I can’t wait to get you home’ is scribbled across the top. I feel the heat rush into my cheeks about as quickly as my thighs tighten while I read it. 11:15 p.m. stares back at me, thank god the bar is closing early tonight I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I click on his messages again, choosing the picture I just took and hitting send. 

This is my favorite part. I sip on my drink for a few minutes before he finally reaches for his phone. Leaning against the back counter, I see him tap on his messages. Oops, is all that runs through my mind as I watch his entire face turn red. Looking up at the ceiling for a second and then back at his phone, zooming in and pulling his phone closer to his face to see my little present better. 

Jacob ❤️: holy shit 

Jacob ❤️: FOR ME?

Jacob ❤️: i need to thank everything and anything in the sky for letting you be mine. But really, youre so hot??? I’m so lucky? 

I love when he’s flustered. Who am I? I love him always. Flustered is just a cute bonus. 

Me: only 30 more minutes baby 🤭

The way he drops his head back when he’s struggling makes me giggle. The next thirty minutes need to fly by, or I think one of us may explode.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The moment the last customer walks out of the bar, Jake is right behind them to lock the doors. Shutting all the lights off in the front in one go before coming over to me. 

“You ready to go?” practically falls out of his mouth. I look around, you’re not clocked in right now, and look back at him.

“Don’t you need to clean?” 

“It can wait,” he says, pulling me closer to him, “You’re more important.” 

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I press my body against his. 

“Baaaaby,” I coo into the crook of his neck. Feeling his hands run down my back and landing on my waist, he gently squeezes. He lets out a small ‘mmm’ that radiates through his chest.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. 

I grab my bag from the barstool, and Jacob already has my hand in his, pulling me down the hall. 

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Walking into the apartment, it’s dark, and no signs of life. 

“Josh?” Jake says, flipping on the lights in the kitchen, “Bub, are you home?” He walks over, gently cracking Josh’s bedroom door to see that it’s empty. Thank god. 

“He must be at Quinn’s,” I whisper, “He said something about  he let them choose tonight’s activities because he already got his gift.” 

I giggle as Jake shudders, “Hun, you don’t have to tell me everything he says to you.” 

“I had to hear it, so you also have to,” I giggle as he comes closer. “Plus, he’s YOUR brother, so.. it’s only fair.”

“I’ll let it slide this time,” he says, glancing down at my lips before making eye contact, “but only because I’m very interested in this surprise you have for me.”  

Grabbing his shirt and pulling him close, I take a second to admire him. I lean in, placing the tiniest kiss on the tip of his nose. Then, moving down to kiss the corners of his lips, oh, his lips. Seeing the little smirk creep up as I linger over his mouth, I love to tease him and see how long I can stay just a whisper above before he breaks. Tonight didn’t take long before he leaned into the kiss, feeling his soft lips press against my bottom one. Sliding my hands up, holding the nape of his neck as he gently nips at me.

His hands glide from my waist down to my thighs, grabbing behind my knees to pick me up. Instinctively, wrapping my legs around his waist. 

“Let’s go, Captain,” I whisper into his ear, eliciting the most delicious groan from him. He picked up his pace to the bedroom as I pressed a kiss just under his ear, letting lip prints trail down his neck. 

 Pushing the door open with his foot, he spins us around so he can sit on the edge of the bed with me on his lap. Sliding my dress up my thighs, revealing that black lace I’ve been taunting him with. 

“You really do love me huh?” He says, pulling back to look at me, his teeth on full display. I only reply with a quiet ‘mhm’ as I bring my hands back down to his chest, unable to keep eye contact when his mouth looks like that. 

Pushing his chest gently so he’ll lay back on his bed, I hover over him just for a second before he pulls me in for a kiss. This one was more desperate, practically whimpering into my mouth. Fuck me. His hands find the bottom hem of my dress, sliding it up and over my ass, the cool air drawing goosebumps to my skin. He grabs a handful while the other hand slides up to cradle my back. 

Swiftly flipping us over, he hovered over me with a devious grin on his face. He props himself up onto a knee, looking down to see the bottom of my lingerie on display. 

“Fuck me,” he mutters, sliding my dress higher as I arch my back to help him. 

“I’ve been trying,” I quip back, leaning up on my elbows. The look on his face is priceless, his jaw slacked and eyes hooded. I pull my dress over my head carefully and run my hands through my hair quickly. 

“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

YES. I nod rapidly, reaching my hands out for the bottom of his shirt, lifting it just enough that I can barely see the small trail of fine hair. His hands find mine, gently pinning them above me.

“Mm mm,” he murmurs into my ear, sending a chill through my body, “You need to tell me what you want from me, hun.”

What.  “I uhh—“ I hesitate, distracted by how I can see down his shirt, watching his stomach muscles tense slightly. 

He’s staring at me with that one eyebrow cocked and a little smug smirk, holding both of my hands with one of his.

“Use your words, tell me,” his hand finds a place on the nape of my neck, as his thumb runs across my cheekbone, “I know you’re thinking it; just say it.” His voice switched to a whisper, causing goosebumps to creep in rapidly. 

Touch me, please. For the love of GOD, Jacob. 

“I need you,” I finally squeak out. 

He laughs softly to himself, “Do you want me to..” his voice trailing off as his hand slides down to my chest, gently resting on my sternum. Without having to do anything, I can feel my nipples start to harden; I swear his eyes light up at the sight. Quickly palming one of my breasts, he dances his index finger around me, and I’m already squirming. A small moan slips out, getting his attention. 

“Is this what you wanted?”

“Please, Jacob,” I softly whine, his hand wandering to my other breast. 

The smile on his face is taunting me. He knows exactly where I want him. If he weren’t sitting between my legs, oh god, my legs would be tightly together.

“Touch me,” laced with a moan, falls from my lips, “Please, Jake.” 

Letting go of my hands, he finds both of his sliding down my waist and holding onto my thighs, gently squeezing them. Fuck. Slowly moving them up, barely touching the lace fabric, my hips shift, trying to find relief. 

“Oh,” he says lowly, “This is what you want?” He ever so lightly drags a single finger down my lace-covered middle; I can’t stop the breathy moan coming from me. 

“More baby,” comes out whinier than expected, “please please please more.” 

“How could I ever say no to you?” His soft voice, wrapped in the most sultry tone, already has me in a chokehold when he dips his hand under the lace fabric. His fingers quickly find the perfect spot, making small circles on my touch-starved bud. The sounds pouring out of my mouth at this point are absurd. 

He slides his other hand up my thigh, his index finger gently dipping into me, not far but enough to elicit a small gasp from me. The way this man can have me drenched at the lightest touch is insane. 

I watch as he pulls his hand up, placing that same index finger into his mouth and slowly pulling it back out. FUCK he’s hot.

“My sweet girl,” he says, reaching up to caress my cheek for a moment before he taps my bottom lip, “let me—“ My mouth couldn’t open fast enough, he slides his middle and ring finger in and without hesitation I’m already swirling my tongue around them, hearing him moan quietly at the feeling. 

He pulls his hand slowly back but swiftly, finding my entrance and pushing them in. 

“Shit,” I mumble. 

Finding the right spot, he continues pressing into it, making that knot in my stomach tighter. 

“Come on, honey,” his voice makes everything even more overwhelming. “Need to hear how good you feel.” 

That pushes me over the edge, my back arching as I’m overcome with pleasure. A slew of ‘oh my god’s and ‘Jacob’ loudly escape my body. He slows down but still applies pressure as I come down. 

I reach my arms out to him, pulling him down on top of me, wrapping all my limbs around him. Turning my face into the crook of his neck, pressing little kisses all over him. 

“Feel good?” he mumbles into me. 

“Mhmm,” I hum against his warm skin, “It’s your turn,” Feeling his chest vibrate with a laugh, I hold him tighter against me. 

As he starts to sit up, I let go, missing his warmth already. We switch places; he’s sat up against the headboard. I immediately crawl up in between his legs, wasting no time as I unbutton the rest of his shirt, pushing it out of the way. Kissing my way down from his jaw to his collarbones, finding that slight dip in the middle of his chest. His hands make their way into my hair, brushing it away from my face as I press my lips into his soft skin just above his hips. 

Unbuttoning his pants alone makes him groan; his dick pressed tightly under the waistband, poor thing. Pushing them down with his boxers, my mouth is watering at the sight alone. Lightly tracing my finger up his length before fully wrapping my hand around him, carefully stroking him before wrapping my lips around him, and letting my tongue dance around him. Slowly taking more of him into my mouth, I glance up through my lashes to see his head tilted back against the headboard. Peering down at me, his mouth is barely open, but enough that his moans ring through my ears. I move up slowly and back down, going further so he’ll keep making those beautiful noises. As my nose just touches his stomach, I moan a little, causing his hands to tighten their grip on my hair. 

I come up, still working him with my hand as I line myself up with him. He slides the lace over as I lower myself onto him, his hands finding their place on my hips as I adjust to the feeling. 

“You feel so good,” he mumbles out, clearly focusing hard as his eyes shut softly. I roll my hips forward as he hits that spot again; oh god. Lifting my hips and dropping back down carefully, everything feels good. 

“Oh,” I let out, as he starts thrusting his hips up into me, slowly at first but building up speed. 

“Oh my god, baby,” I can’t hold back the moans anymore as he’s hitting the right spots, “Holy shit.” 

“Stand up for me,” he says as he slows his hips down. 

My legs shake as I lift myself off of him, stepping off the bed as he quickly follows behind. His hands snake around me, pressing his chest against my back, peppering kisses down my neck onto my shoulder. 

“I’ve been thinking about bending you over all night,” he tells me softly, “can you do that for me, beautiful?” I don’t answer him, turning and pressing a kiss against his cheekbone and then leaning down and stretching my arms out. 

His hands graze my ass as he steps closer; I can’t help but wiggle myself against him, teasing him until his palm swats at me with a small clap. 

“Mmm, have I been bad, Captain?” I turn my head to see him from the corner of my eye, trying not to giggle at how ridiculous that sounds. 

His head falls backward as he lets out a belly laugh. He leans over me and presses a kiss in between my shoulder blades.

“Soooo bad,” he says with a wink. 

He lines himself up with me, gently pushing himself in, and god is it good. Feeling his hipbones pressed against me before he starts pumping himself into me. This angle is probably my favorite, feeling so full from him and it’s hitting all the right places. 

“Harder, baby,” comes out a bit louder than before, with a loud moan right behind it. His hand sneaks around me, going back to its rightful place in between my legs and adding some friction to my throbbing clit. The sensation of his hand mixed with the feeling of him behind me. I swear I’m in heaven. 

“Don’t hold back, honey,” he tells me. “Told you I wanted to hear you scream my name tonight, let it out.” 

‘Oh my god,’ slips out as the tension builds again. I’m so close.

“Need to feel you come for me.”

His voice, mixed with his hand and his hips digging into my ass, sent me over the edge. I can’t refrain from the loud ‘Jacob’ that comes out of me as my orgasm tingles through my body. His hips slow a bit as he rubs my sides, waiting for me to come back to earth.

“God, you’re so hot,” he whispers, making us both giggle for a second. “This isn't gonna last much longer, hun.”

I reach back and tap his leg so he’ll step back, pulling out slowly. I push myself up from the bed, turning to face him and sinking to my knees. Wrapping my hand around him and pumping a few times before I lick a stripe up the length of him. Letting him slide into my mouth, I tap on his hip twice, and he starts to thrust gently. He carefully gathers all my hair, wrapping his around his hand and holding the back of my head. 

“I’m gonna-” he starts, and before he can finish, I bob my head so he goes deeper. The delicious moan he lets out fills my ears before I feel his release. His head falls back as he rides out his high. I swallow as he pulls back, letting my hands glide up his stomach, enjoying the bliss on his face before he opens his eyes. 

His hands grab mine and pull me up to my feet. Quickly grabbing the sides of my face, giving my lips a quick glance before smiling into me. His soft lips pressed into mine, taking turns trying not to smile, giggling at each other as he peppered my face with tiny pecks. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

My legs are tired as I walk into the living room and find Jacob sitting on the couch watching whatever Hallmark movie is on the TV. I shouldn’t be drooling over him already, but when he’s just there with no shirt and in his sweatpants, I can’t help myself. I can’t believe he’s MINE.

“Hi there,” he says, reaching out for me. “Feel better?” As I’m crawling into his lap.

“Much better. The shower was needed after all of that.”

Wrapping his arms around me as I curl up like a kitten on top of him, this is my favorite place to be. I tuck my face into his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin. Quietly toying with his necklace, fixing the chain so the clasp is in the right spot. We sit in the quiet, the background noise of the cheesy romance on the TV keeping it from being silent. 

“Are you hungry?” he whispers.

“I’m starving, actually,” I giggle back.

“Thank god,” the relief evident in his tone, “I’ll make us something quickly.”

“Jacob,” I glance at the clock, “It’s almost 2 a.m.” 

“Already back to my full name?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. My mouth falls open; I tend to full-name him, but honestly, I just love it. 

“You know what,” I start, holding eye contact with him, “Carry on. Thank you, baby.” There’s that smile. 

“I could just call you Captain,” I tease, giggling as he turns around.

Pointing at me with a wooden spoon, “Don’t start something you’re not gonna finish, hun.” 

Standing up from the couch, I make my way over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning my face against his back as he cooks. Fiddling with the waistband of his sweatpants until he grabs my hand.

“Alright now,” he mumbles, “what did I just tell you?” his laugh vibrates through his body. 

“And who said I can’t finish it?” 

He turns around promptly, that devilish smirk creeping back onto his face, “care to try your luck?”

“Whenever you want, Captain.”

Masterlist | Taglist | Caravel Tavern Series Masterpost

Taglist Besties: I may have had a little Jakedown and this happened 🤭 Hope you enjoy xoxo

@gvfsstardust , @myleftsock , @mindastreamofcolours , @dont-go-home-without-me , @literal-dead-leaf , @lizzys-sunflower , @mackalah , @klarxtr , @edgingthedarkness , @writingcold , @i-love-gvf , @takenbythemadness , @ladywhimsymoon , @earthgrlsreasy , @peaceloveunitygvf , @violet-hayes , @musicspeaks , @anythingforjtk

[lemony-and-zesty]

Omg not another drabble for hitman!JD :]

This one’s for you especially @elijah-doodle ;)) Since you wanted to know and all :)

Silly side note cause I thought it was funny but this is titled “The one that got away” in my drafts 😭😭

———————

The small apartment John Dory found himself living in was pretty peaceful, all things considered. Especially this early in the morning. JD was fast asleep in that slab of concrete he called a bed, finally having managed to pass out a couple hours ago.

There was a sudden, loud knock on the door.

“Hey! Git up! Boss wants ta see ya.”

John Dory groans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“C’mon kid, he ain’t gonna wait long.”

He crawled out of bed, rubbing a hand down his face before huffing out an, “Alright, alright. Gimme a minute.”

The voice at the door seemed appeased at this, and JD could hear his footsteps fading.

Stupid.

He took his time getting ready, it really was too early for this.

After sliding on his coat and goggles, he yanked the door open. He wasn’t surprised to see the other troll hadn’t gone far.

He gave JD a sharp nod, “Good. C’mon kid.”

JD held his tongue at that.

He let the other man lead him, despite knowing the way like the back of his hand. Best not to start a fight over something stupid.

They left the apartment building off into a back alley.

JD shoved his hands into his pockets and let his mind stray for a bit. As per usual, he found himself thinking about his brothers. He can’t help but wonder what they’d be up to now. Shit, how old would they be again?

He starts trying to add it up in his head, counting it out with his fingers.

It’s been, what? 10, no 15 years? Maybe? He couldn’t be sure until he got a glimpse at a calendar.

His mind continued to wander for a bit before he’s suddenly jolted out of his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder.

Reacting quickly, he spins around and sweeps the assailant’s legs. They tumble to the ground with a, “Aw SHIT-“

JD unsheathes the spikes on his glove’s knuckle, preparing to strike the person before coming to a dead stop.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

“-HELL kid, the fck’r ya doin!”

JD stumbles back, his hands going to his coat. He brushes at it, not just trying to play it off but also to soothe his shaking hands, “Sorry. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

The man who’d been walking him glared up at him - partly out of shock, partly out of fury. After a moment he shakes his head, “Whatever kid.”

JD snarls at that, “For the love of- Stop. calling. me-“

The door behind JD slams open, “Ah! Johnny! You’re right on time.”

A stocky pale yellow troll with golden, slicked back hair dressed in a gray pinstripe suit sets his hands on JD’s shoulders turning him around and lightly shoving him into the room he’d just burst out of, “Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

He kicks the door shut behind them, not sparing the man another glance.

He leads JD to his desk, his grip tightening on his shoulders before releasing him altogether.

“B-Boss I can explain-“

He holds a hand up to silence him as he rounds the desk and takes a seat, “No need. It’s not my business what you get up to outside of work. As long as you don’t kill any of my employees, I couldn’t care less.”

JD gulps, once again rubbing his hands against his coat.

“Now, what is my business is, well, my business. So,” He reaches into a drawer, pulling out a slip of paper - his next hit, JD assumes - and sliding it across the desk for him to look at, “Let’s talk business.”

John Dory freezes the instant his eyes see the paper. No, not paper. The poster. It was a poster for a concert for an up and coming solo artist.

No. No no no no no.

Staring back up at him were the eyes of a troll he hadn’t seen in 15 or so years.

No. Anything but this. Please.

Staring up at him was none other than Floyd. His baby brother.

[totallyradicalmucky]

I hate that fuck ass bike

This one scene from the Situpon episode sticks out in my mind a lot so i rewrote? It and essentially the ending. Idk if it has athf vibes but it made me giggle so whateverrr.

“Yknow…honestly? th-this chair is a lot better for my back”

“Wha- Yknow what? This is why you-are- not married. And why you have no *meaningful* friendships- people are *offended*, by the way you look.”

The milkshake gaped.

“I’m a confirmed bachelor!”

“Uh oh! I think I must have struck a ner-“

..Shake had already toppled the Sit-upon over, eyeing angrily it as it lay motionless in the lawn. Back to being the lame exercise bike it was. He felt stupid.

“Stupid BIKE! It hurt my feelings.”

The cup rammed himself back inside the house, shimmying inside his brother’s room and making sure to look twice before digging through the closet. Mumbling nonsense to himself while he strained his body into an old pair of skinny jeans.

The visible pudge on his body only serving to irritate Shake more, talking to himself still. Moving to go through the closet mindlessly, not even realizing Frylock had floated into the room, dodging a can of whipped cream (that was in the closet for some reason) that Shake had thrown behind him.

“..I love the way I look.”

“What are you doing.”

Shake flinched at Frylock’s voice, turning to look at him with that annoyed glare- as usual. It’s not like he wasn’t annoyed to be interrupted, he even was a bit flustered. Thinking about the skinny jeans he still donned ..again just made him furrow his brow. Making the man in front of him a bit confused at the immediate irritation, since he wasn’t mad at Shake for..whatever he was doing.

“I’m uh, lookin for your shrink Ray. Got these

Skinny jeans and they don’t fit me!”

Shake stomped his foot on the ground, feigning a tantrum that was partly cathartic. He grimaced at Frylock, already knowing his brother well enough to know he wouldn’t buy it.

“S’ cause you’re ass ain’t skinny. There ain’t no shortcut to exercise man”

The fries monotonous reply made Shake roll his eyes, immediately quipping back with a

“Uhh- there is with the *Shrink* Ray!”. Frylock raised his eyebrows only slightly at the man, not at all amused with the smart ass comeback..or all that irritated.

“What happened to getting lit up-on my sit-upon?”

Shake squints at Frylock, his frown deepening as he metaphorically gets backed into a corner. Skinny jeans feeling all much the skinnier, he pouts and huffs. Making every noise he could possibly make instead of the answer. Literally clawing at the walls and staring at Frylock to try and make him go away. The aforementioned man, patient as he is, stayed put while Shake went through the stages of “he caught my bitchass.” until finally fessing up.

The milkshake yelled out at first, making Meatwad roll up to the door curiously..only for it to be closed in his face. And then he was quiet, cutting himself off although there was still a bite to his voice. Mad at himself for how embarrassing this all was, he couldn’t make eye contact. Frylock stared stoically, listening with intent although millions of possibilities ran through his mind. None of these showed up in his expression for Shake’s sake.

“That FRIGGEN *shit-upon* called me- I dunno it called me fat or something. Can’t even remember! It doesn’t matter.”

Frylock twitched, eyes squinting as he scanned Shake up and down. Already deducting that the cup was lying his straw off. By why- he didn’t know, I mean it could be damn near anything knowing Shake. But this time he looked deflated, embarrassed, and that was different. Shakes never..like that really. He made a mental note of that, brows furrowing. Mind blanking for a moment before he can say his piece. Meatwad rolling in quietly as the door creaks shut behind him. Looking at the both of them with a mix of curiosity and worry.

Frylock shakes himself out of the mild frustration, getting his thought process back. Looking back at Shake, who was still disheveled. In those shitty skinny jeans that have for no reason. None of them have legs anyways. He speaks sternly, brows still furrowed.

“Shake…What did the sit-upon say to you?”

“Nothing! I already told you Frylock! He just did the uhh..come on! Step it up Fattie haha. You know ..whatever he did for you.”

Shake gulped, seeing Frylock’s eyes for a moment. Grinning to make it more believable although he knows it won’t work. He shifts in his spot, balling his hands into fists. Meatwad seemingly remembering something- digs around in his head.

“Shake.”

“FINE!”

“Y’all.. um y’all.. wait- I got a note! Written in..bicycle grease.”

Shake exhales happily, first time he’d admit to being grateful for Meatwad’s lack of self awareness. Frylock turning around with a grumble, but curious enough to hear him out. Skimming the note.

-Dearest FryDaddy, I took off. Call it a solo ride. I hoped I could change you and unlock your potential. You and I could’ve been together forever! Your butt on my face ..sw-

Frylock crumpled the paper with a grimace, turning back to the cup. Meatwad jumping up on his bed and looking out the window with interest. Shake looking at Frylock, more relaxed but..getting distracted by the window as well shifting to look out of it as well.

“What did the damn bike say to you Shake. I’m tired of this already.”

“Oh yeah uh he said I had no meaningful friends and that people get offended when they look at me. But uh- Fry-“

“HE SAID WHAT.”

“What’s that over there? Above the uh..really rich area in town?”

Frylock, still throughly pissed with this fuck ass workout bike turns to face the window that Meatwad is pointing out of. Seeing a fleet of them flying out over the town. His frown deepens, squinting to spot the Situpon they had used. All three of the food items rushing outside to get a better view as they could hear the bike’s voice yelling. Notably towards Frylock, which only served to piss him off more.

“See you later DICKlock. Which is my new nickname for you! And yes- the seat is my fa-“

The Fryman shot the situpon with his eye lasers, cutting him off and killing him almost instantly. The explosion breaking multiple power lines in the city. Causing a major power outage- the other sit upons now either exploding since they were too close to the initial blast or simply have no direction now so they malfunction. Carl ran out of his house, lacking pants or underwear. Yelling about where the internet went before immediately screaming- and going back inside. Frylock raised an eyebrow.

“Frylock- can you blow that up?”

He turned around at feeling a tug to his side. Eyes widening at being face to face with a comet, huge and firey. Frylock gripped his brothers tightly, sweating underneath the heat of the comet.

“I..I uh I’m no sure Meatwad. I can try.”

He could feel Shake’s eyes on him as he charged his eye lasers up again. Vision going white with the light before the sound of metal whirred and he stopped suddenly- confused. Hearing a familiar voice shout.

“No don’t please! This is a new car!”

The plutonians.

“Yeah we uh, we got pimped out man.”

“Do you like it?”

Ogrethorpe grins.

[anzynai]

Day 5 - Boo!

Xingqiu & Chongyun (Genshin)

a/n: hiiii i missed writing them thank u sm for the prompt pookie…. I LOVE XINGYUN SO MUCH ABGAJAJAJAJAJAH theyre technically NOT dating here but i think its a little implied teehee but they are still technically friends unforch …. anyway i hope u enjoy!!! @tklpilled

——

oh, look at him, so blissfully unaware, xingqiu thought, watching the other eat his popsicle, content on his face as he walked closer and closer to the corner of the hallway.

he had invited chongyun over today. he had dramatically exclaimed that he would be oh, so bored because his father and brother would be speaking to business partners almost all day, but had to stay in case they needed him. it was the truth, but xingqiu didn’t really invite chongyun over for just that. he really just wanted to spend more time with him.

it had been an impulsive idea to scare chongyun like this. chongyun would never see it coming, which made it so fun, and even now, he could imagine the shock and betrayal on chongyun’s face.

xingqiu almost felt bad. almost. but alas, it was not enough to deter him from his goal. as chongyun was about the turn the corner to go into xingqiu’s room…

“boo!” xingqiu jumped out, grabbing the other’s sides in the process and squeezing.

“w-WAHAHA, x-xihihingqiu?!” chongyun jumped, startled and completely caught off guard. xingqiu inwardly applauded his stealth skills.

“chongyun, you’re here! it’s been so long!” xingqiu joked, still kneading his fingers along chongyun’s sides and tummy.

“ihihit’s beheheehen two dahahays!”

“two too long, don’t you agree?” xingqiu tsked.

“stahahap ihihit! ihihim tihihicklish!” chongyun cried, his face turning a bit red already. how cute, xingqiu thought a little mesmerized, not for the first time and not for the last.

“oh yes, we have established that, haven’t we?” xingqiu tried to deadpan, but he was far too amused to keep a straight face. chongyun was really so silly.

“gahahahaha!” chongyun pushed away at xingqiu’s hands as he backed into the wall, partly reflex from the ticklish sensations. unfortunately for him, that left him trapped and much more vulnerable to xingqiu’s devilish fingers.

“you’re so ticklish, chongyun,” xingqiu giggles along with the exorcist, who flushes in response.

a few seconds later, chongyun is looking a bit too red that, even though he really doesn’t want to, xingqiu relinquishes his attack, not wanting the other to overheat.

“you’re evil.” chongyun pouted, crossing his arms when he calmed down.

“how could you say that? i am not!” xingqiu denied, passionately holding a hand over his chest.

“yeah, right.” chongyun rolled his eyes, but xingqiu could see him trying to resist a smile. xingqiu felt like smiling too, but he didn’t resist it.

“come now, let’s go to my room. i have some new leads i think you might be interested in!” xingqiu said, smiling happily.

chongyun did smile that time. “okay, but they better be real ones.”

“of course, don’t worry!” xingqiu had assured him, as they walked to xingqiu’s room.

[tbsangstersgf]

Dumb plan part two!!

Warnings:spice (no smut), cursing, drinking

(Requests are open and I would love any critiques!)

(Loosely based off @gladerscake incorrect tmr quote, go follow her she writes very well! Also I’ve been meaning to get this done for days now but I just keep getting distracted so here you go I finally pushed through)

It had been two weeks since you and Gally started “dating”.

Two weeks since you two kissed. 

Neither one of you had talked about it since, and neither of you had made the move to kiss again. Like the plan, you had both stopped showing a bunch PDA once other Gladers noticed. 

It was getting to be too much for you. At night you lay awake, not being able to get it out of your head.

During the day you were constantly distracted at your job as a track-hoe.

It’s just a kiss, pull yourself together y/n.

“Y/n? Hello? Earth to y/n!” Newts voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry, I’m just not feeling all that great today Newt.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you the rest of the day to rest, so you can be ready for the bonfire tonight. You’ve been kind of off lately.” His tone grows to one of concern, and he looked at you with his brow furrowed. 

“Oh it’s nothing, I’m just tired.” 

“Okay… just rest up so we can let loose and have fun tonight.” He looks at you with a warm smile, Newt has always been like a brother to you, and you can count on him to take care of you.

For a second you think about telling him everything going on in your mind, but you didn’t want to sound ungrateful. It was partly his plan after all. 

“Thanks Newt” with a hug, you head to your hut. You had your own hut because Gally didn’t think it would be safe for the only girl to be sleeping around a bunch of boys with nothing to protect her but a hammock.

Gally. He’s been one of the few people that you’ve trusted ever since you’d come to the Glade, about two months after he did. You didn’t get really close for about 3 months, but even from the beginning you had a little crush on him. Over time it grew and grew, along with your friendship. 

I mean how could you not like Gally?

He’s strong, handsome, and damn those arms, but he’s also a very caring and respectful guy. He’s passionate when it comes to the things he cares about, and puts effort into the things that he loves. 

Not looking where you were going and being lost in your thoughts, you all of the sudden run into someone. Feeling yourself start to fall backwards, and wi the a yelp,  you desperately try to grab something to stop your fall. You accidentally grab their shirt and you pull them down with you, and unfortunately, on top of you. 

Great, just great.

“Woah, you good there?” An unfamiliar voice asks you. You look up to see a Glader that you don’t recognize.

“Oh yeah I’m sorry, it’s been a long day and I wasn’t really paying attention.” You sigh, it really had been a long day.

“Wanna get off of my girlfriend now?”

“Oh uh Gally! I didn’t see you there how was- i mean how- how are you?” The glader looked anywhere but at you as Gally shot daggers at him with his eyes. 

“Oh me? I’m great it’s just a little maddening to see a guy sitting on top of my girlfriend you know. Kind of puts a damper on my mood.” Gally gets closer and closer to Glader, now staring down at him. 

“Gally it’s not what you think—“ Gally shoots you a glare and you shut up real quick. 

“Anyways I’m gonna… go now?” 

As the glader disappeared into the distance,  Gally turned to you with a look on his face that could kill.

“Y/n,” he started to walk towards you.

“There’s no point in this-us- if you’re in the Deadheads messing around with some random Glader.” He continues to move closer to you, and you slowly start to back up. 

“I know that, believe me, I just ran into him and fell and-really it’s not what you think it was, it was nothing.”

“Really? You seemed in no hurry to get him off of you.” You feel your back hits something solid, a tree maybe? 

Gally puts his hands on either side of your head, and leans in, maintaining eye contact. 

Red flushes to your face and you quickly look down. 

“Y/n- look at me.” You look up at Gally meets your gaze. For a moment you two just stare, and he searches your face for something thing. Slowly he moves forward, barely an inch-but then he pulls away and walks off. You stare at him as he just walks away, a puzzled expression on your face.

What the hell? What was that about? He seemed so…jealous? But we’re not actually dating?

Whatever- you were just gonna go back to your hut so you could let loose at the bonfire and not have to deal with any of your problems. 

An hour or so later, Newt come to get you for the bonfire. For an hour or so you’re up and dancing around, drinking, and having the time of your life. You played truth or dare with a group of Gladers and had drunk at least two and half jars of Gally’s drink. 

Once you’re sufficiently drunk to where nothing could get you down, you plop down close to the fire, in between the Minho and Gally.

“You know Minho” you turn to Gally, and he and Minho look at each other. “You’re a shank”

Gally laughs “Ya hear that Minho? You’re a shank!”

“I have a secret to tell you Minho.”

Gally just smiles and says “Oh really, you have a secret for Minho?” 

“Yep- it’s a-it’s a big one- about Gally” you slur your words.

“Oh really?” Minho laughs as you turn back to face the fire.

“Yep” you say quietly. For about five minutes, you just sit silently staring into the fire, Minho and Gally share a look behind your back, confused by your sudden silence. You chug the rest of your jar full of Gally’s special drink, and turn to Gally out of nowhere. 

“You know Gally has no idea I’m in love with him”

Gally’s face of amusement turned to one of shock. His whole demeanor changed from confident and assertive to flustered and unsure. 

“You’re in love with me?” 

“Oh sorry” turning to Minho, you look at him seriously. “Gally has no idea I’m in love with him.”

Minho bursts into laughter, stands up, pats Gally on the back and walks over to Newt, laughing the whole time. 

“What’s so funny?” you turn Gally and he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. Slowly, veryyyyy slowly, you realize what just happened. 

Oh shit.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah y/n, oh shit”

“Listen- I’m fuck- I’m really sorry Gally I’m just gonna go to bed now I’m obviously not thinking straight.”

You stand, turning to leave when a strong hand grabs your wrist just as you’re about to walk away. 

“Y/n-“

“No Gally, seriously I’m sorry, I really can’t believe i slipped up like that, but I can’t deal with this right now.” You pull your hand out of his grip and start to walk away, tears starting to form in your eyes. 

Two strong hands grab your waist and spin you around to face Gally, so that his hands are on your waist, and your hands are on his chest. Heat immediately flushes to your face and you look up at him in surprise. 

“Gally?” He stares at you for a moment, eyes roaming over your face. You start to try and pull away, when one of his hands reaches up and cups your cheek, surprisingly gentle. “Y/n-“ his nose brushes yours, and then his lips are on yours. 

The kiss isn’t very long, but it’s perfect. When he pulls away you smile, and he laughs a bit. 

Feeling bold and empowered by his kiss, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for another kiss. 

This one lasts a lot longer, yours and Gally’s lips moving in sync. He pulls you tightly against him, and one of his hands moves to your hair.  

“GET A ROOM!” Newt yells at you from across the clearing.

“Gally-maybe we should take this somewhere more private?” You break the kiss, breathing just as heavily as he is and give him a big smile. 

Without a word, he picks you up bridal style, in the background Newt and Minho start clapping.

“FINALLY!” One of them calls out. 

Along the way to Gally’s hut, you get impatient and start to kiss his neck. He groans softly and looks down at you. 

As you keep kissing his neck getting lower and lower he stops somewhere in the Dead heads. He gently sets you down and kisses you sweetly.

“Couldn’t wait till the hut?” You laugh a bit then run your hands along his arms and up to his shoulders.

All of the sudden he grabs both of you hands in one of his, and roughly pushes you up against a tree, pinning your hands above your head. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just stares directly into your eyes with an intensity that you had never seen before.

“Gally? Are you gonna say something?” You’re both breathing heavily, and confusion at his actions is setting in. 

“Y/n, you’re beautiful.” Never in Gally’s life had he been so honest with someone. 

Then he leaned in and kissed her like it was the last thing he’d ever do, you groan into the kiss, and his other hand moves to your hip and gently squeezes it. His lips move down to your neck and you lay your head back against the tree. 

Gally releases your hands and picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Now free, your hands move to his hair, and his hands start to roam your body. The one on your waist moves to your thigh and squeezes it, the one previously pinning you hands against the tree moves to rest just under your chest. Gally moves back up to your mouth and kisses you again, then he throws you over your shoulder. 

“Gally! A warning would be great!” You yelped in surprise, now hanging over his shoulder.

“Deal with it.” He walks to his hut and throws you on the bed, and lays down next to you. He moves so that you’re laying completely on top of him. He kisses your head and starts to slowly run his hands through your hair. 

“Gally? Why’d you stop so suddenly?” You shift and look up at him.

“You’re drunk- i didn’t want to do something that you might regret.” His voice is level and soothing. With a nod, you lay back down on his chest. 

“I love you too by the way y/n” it’s soft, but it’s there. You smile and kiss him gently, lying down again. 

As you two are falling asleep, you whisper

“I wouldn’t have regretted it-not with you.”

He gently wraps his strong arms around you in response, and you both fall asleep with smiles on your faces.

[moon-tells-stories]

Heart Problems~

Connor Stoll x gn reader

Connor is completely in love with you, too bad you’re trying to set him up with someone else.

Part 2 Dear Diary, I’m an idiot

~~

Connor knew he had a problem.

He liked to consider himself a pretty self aware person: he knew he was a liar, he knew he could be a bit of an asshole, he knew he would sometimes come off as a bit cold, he knew he was too vindictive, he knew not everyone liked his pranks and now…. he knew he absolutely and completely had a problem.

The problem in question?

He was in love with his best friend.

Now, someone might say “ok, Connor, big deal, everyone gets crushes sometimes”.

But this wasn’t just a simple crush.

People with a crush don’t feel their hearts implode in their chests when they see the person they like smile.

People with a crush absolutely do not feel every single cell in their body beg to see the person they like every time they’re not there.

People with a crush would feel naturally rejected and maybe a bit sad if the person they liked did not return their feelings.

But as much as it would have probably killed him from inside out, Connor just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

He couldn’t risk confessing to you and ruin your friendship. It was too important, you were too important.

The price just wasn’t worth the risk, he was happy just being your friend, being close to you was enough, seeing you smile at him even if it was platonic was enough, laughing and joking around with you was enough.

(He felt like smashing his head against a wall repeatedly when he remembered that you would never know how much he truly loved you but he pushed the thought down)

After all if there was one thing Connor Stoll was truly good at that was lying.

~~

The light cascading between the leaves of the tree the two of you were laying against would sometimes fall into your eyes and Connor would feel his heart beat out of his chest.

You were talking about the recent book you had read.

You had always loved reading, your dyslexia made it a bit difficult but when you arrived at camp Chiron taught you how to turn your books into ancient greek texts which helped a lot.

Connor had never really been a fan of reading, partly because of his dyslexia, that every demigod had, but also because he simply found it- boring. He didn’t like staying put and reading required staying still and concentrating, both things he wasn’t very good at.

However he liked listening to you ramble on and on about your favourite books, you could talk about them for hours on end and he would listen to your voice on repeat forever if he could.

(Gods, he was so smitten it was honestly pathetic)

But seeing you so exited about sharing your favourite story with him, he realised that he absolutely did not care about how probably pathetic he was.

“And then! the villain turns out to be….” you trail off for a bit of suspence and he smiles softly.

(he definitely looks like an absolute fool)

“His brother!” you say exited, turning to the book and holding up the page where the protagonist gets betrayed.

Connor smiles surprised “no way, that’s gotta sting-” he says while reading the page you were gesturing to.

(he doesn’t think about how that sound so painfully familiar)

“I know!” you say a mix between excited and frustrated “he was my favourite character too” you groan and Connor laughs “ouch- why do your favourite characters always either die or turn out to be the villain?” he jokes, remembering how in the book you told him about last month, your favourite character sacrificed herself and died.

You throw your head back “i must be cursed- it’s not fair!” you laugh.

(connor wants to record the sound and listen to it forever-)

He grimaces internally at that thought, that wasn’t creepy, right???

He takes your book in his hands, trying to play it cool, trying to pretend that his heart did not flutter at the sound of your laugh “sure, buttercup, i’m sure a god decided to curse every single character you like” he teases you.

You laugh (his heart did not skip a beat- liar) and playfully punch his shoulder at the nickname.

Some voices come from the archery pitch nearby, a few kids of the Apollo cabin joke and laugh loudly among themselves, you glance at them before turning to him with a small smile.

(he pretends not to notice that the smile is not entirely genuine)

“Did you meet the new Apollo kid?” you ask him with a sort of teasing smile that he does not comprehend.

“You mean Remy?” he asks slightly confused, as the counsellor of the Hermes cabin he met lots of new campers that came and went, Remy had arrived last week, they stayed in cabin 11 for two days before getting claimed by Apollo, he wasn’t sure why you were suddenly bringing them up.

“Yeah” you nod, the weird teasing smile still on you lips, “aren’t they cute?” you ask playfully.

Connor is really really not sure what he should answer, it’s not that he doesn’t agree because objectively speaking Remy was indeed attractive, he just never really thought about it and all of this seemed extremely random.

“I guess” is best he comes up with, you laugh slightly “you guess?” you ask between laughs “what kind of answer is that?”.

Connor rolls his eyes and pushes your shoulder playfully “shut up, i just don’t understand this sudden interest in Remy” he tells you.

You shrug, smirking at him (his stupid heart should just explode with how many time it flutters or skips a beat).

You nudge him with your elbow playfully “a little birdie told me that Remy has a crush on you” you wink.

oh.

ohh.

For a second his brain malfunctions… were you- were you trying to set him up with someone?!??!

The worst thing about all of this is that- you look so casual about it. It shouldn’t hurt this much, he knows you don’t feel the same, this isn’t a surprise, he already knew- he already made peace with this fact.

(or at least he should have already made peace with this fact)

Connor swallows his hurt and tries not to think about the way he feels as if a knife had been thrown straight into his heart.

“Really?” he tells you as absentmindedly as he can.

Thankfully he’s a good liar and you don’t notice, you nod happily “yess, and if you want- you can meet them after the campfire near the Apollo cabin” you say smugly.

(the imaginary knife twists painfully in his chest)

Connor would really like to give you a big genuine smile, just make you happy since you seem so exited about this, however the best thing he can muster is a small smile and “i’ll think about it.”

The conversation ends there, you go back to reading your book with a satisfied smile and Connor goes back to dying internally.

He shouldn’t feel this dejected, but he really can’t help it, he’s not sure what’s worst about this story.

The irony that Remy asked the person he’s in love with to set them up together, or the fact that you actually accepted and tried.

He’s not angry at Remy, the new demigod has no fault, and Connor doesn’t blame them or resent them for shooting their shot with him.

(they’ve got way more courage than him, he’s such a coward)

The wind blows softly in his curls and as he looks at you, his heart flutters once more.

The knife twists deeper and Connor curses himself and his stupid stupid heart, Aphrodite, Eros and every other love deity he knows.

But as you smile to yourself while reading a particularly interesting passage in your book he decides that this pain is not so bad.

~~

[allthatmay]

sometimes i giggle when remembering ace was going around telling people hed make whitebeard the pirate king (twice in canon; first when meeting luffy at arabasta, second when fighting blackbeard at banaro island) while said man was on a wheelchair. parental love so overwhelming it made him go delulu.

AH, I know, it's so cute. What's funnier is that I don't think he actually ever thinks Whitebeard will be the king. He's not dumb; he knows Whitebeard is very ill and old. I think a part of him simply doesn't want to acknowledge it as he's only just gained Whitebeard as a father and doesn't want to think about losing him.

There's this really great post about the Ace novels (here, which is where I've borrowed the quotes from) that basically sums them up. A big take-away is that, in joining the Whitebeards, Ace realises he doesn't actually know what he wants.

P. 159: [Thatch asks him] “You want your reputation to surpass that of the Pirate King, but you’re not interested in the One Piece. You don’t want to break the code either. What the hell does your flag even represent?” [And Ace answers] “I don’t know. Honestly, I thought I did, but not anymore.”

Sweet baby boy Ace realises he doesn't want the title nor the OP, so he simply redirects those desires onto his "new dad." In fact, Ace has known all along that he didn't actually want to be Pirate King, but he felt like he had to become it in order to shuck his father's identity and gain his own, good or bad. That's partly why he was so reluctant to join the Whitebeards in the first place: replacing one father figure with another would hardly help matters.

P. 224-225: “Whitebeard inviting him to be his son had seemed to him like another ‘father’ attempting to take control of his life. But […] now he understood the word ‘son’ a little differently.”

When he actually thinks about it, I'm sure Ace wants nothing more than to see Luffy be king. But he's so overwhelmed by all the love he's getting from his new family and old friends—he's only just started to accept that it is love—that he's like, "What am I supposed to do with this?" So he returns to what he knows, and decides that the best way to show his gratitude is to make Whitebeard the Pirate King. It gives Ace a means of being useful while eclipsing the persona of Pirate King Gold Roger with Pirate King Edward Newgate, which is good for Ace, who simply wants to get out of Roger's shadow.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think Ace hates Roger at all, just the public image of him. (Okay, maybe there's a little bit of hate because of what happened with Rouge, but that's simply misdirection—Ace blames himself for that.) If they were ever to meet (perhaps through some time travel shenanigans), I could see Ace having all the manners of a feral house cat: desperate to be let in, but hissing and biting at every move Roger makes.

Anyway, wow, I've gone off on one. Point is, YES, it is VERY cute. It has the same vibes as, "LOOK! This is my brother Luffy! He's a menace! His bounty's the highest in the East Blue!"

[neufer]

No one asked for this, but I wanted to go through my outsiders playlist and talk about my thought process behind each song. I love making playlists for characters and stories and think making the connections between them and the songs is very fun. If anything this is just for me to have my thoughts actually articulated and written down, but I figured someone else might enjoy it too.

Here is the playlist I’m talking about.

Okay so the first two songs are obviously from the movie and are there just to set the tone.

This next group of songs is all about being a greaser. Sort of wild and crazy because of the circumstances. Specific lyrics that demonstrate this: “I used to be such a sweet sweet thing ‘til they got a hold of me” (No More Mr. Nice Guy) and both choruses of Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked and Youth Gone Wild. The others songs are based mostly off of vibes, and I saw a post on here one time headcanoning some of the gang jamming out to Respect, and it’s like, yes give them their respect.

This group of songs is similar but it gets a little more deep and specific to certain characters. I really love Ethel Cain so I wanted to include American Teenager partly because of that. It might be a reach but I think “a long cold war with your kids at the front” is pretty outsiders coded, same with “it’s just not my year” and the whole second verse. The lines about being wasted and handling liquor remind me of Two-Bit, and the mention of Jesus reminds me of Ponyboy and Johnny. Patches by Clarence Carter is a new addition and it gives me Darry having to take over vibes. Point of Know Return for me is Ponyboy wanting to get out of Tulsa, kind of like, how long until he reaches the point where he can’t stand not to leave, until the point of no return? The lines “Your father, he said he needs you. Your mother, she said she loves you. Your brothers, they echo your words,” are also very Curtis bros coded. Standing Outside The Fire and The Poet are both very Ponyboy, specifically his passion and heightened sense of emotion and him being that way in the rough neighborhood he grew up in. I guess you could say those two songs also apply to Sodapop, and Standing Outside The Fire is also very greaser vs soc.

These two songs are about Cherry and Bob. Specifically about his drinking and other wild habits and how she knows they maybe aren’t the best for each other. “Them boys are out and they’re angry and they’re lookin’ for blood” in Oklahoma Smokeshow is also SO soc coded it’s crazy. I’m pretty sure I saw a post on here about that song relating to the outsiders so that kind of gave me the idea.

Class of 2013 is Johnny Cade, simple as that. I also think “you have so much to do and I have nothing ahead of me” in Your Best American Girl is kind of Johnny to Pony/the rest of the gang, but I also saw an edit to this song where it was Darry to Ponyboy, and that is so valid as well. And, if you’re a Darry/Paul truther, it’s also Darry to Paul (the rest of the song too, not just that one lyric). Now Runs in the Family is kind of hit or miss. Like the song in the musical, it talks about being doomed from the beginning, but I see it more as Ponyboy’s tendency to overthink and his breakdown at the end of the story. Also not being able to run from his family. There’s some more in the lyrics about the family kind of exploiting the person whose pov is the pov the song is from, and I don’t think that relates to the outsiders in any way.

This is where it starts to get serious. Obviously we have two songs from the musical. They, and another one that comes later, are in my opinion the ones that sum up the themes of the outsiders perfectly, so I wanted to include them. Fly To The Angels is about Johnny’s death and the other characters having to let him go, specifically “heaven awaits your heart and flowers bloom in your name.” Mama I’m Coming Home is about Dally’s death. I’ve been thinking of it as Dally’s pov, and while it may not work perfectly, I think it still works. Specifically, “times have changed and times are strange, here I come but I ain’t the same.” I also really like “lost and found and turned around by the fire in your eyes” but I don’t really know who that would be about from Dally’s pov. Maybe Johnny?

These next four songs are all Ponyboy mourning Johnny and Dally and longing for them to still be alive. Tuesday’s Gone is a bonus because it talks about a train and the phrase “gone with the wind.” I saw an edit of the three of them to Crab, so that’s where I got the idea for that. There’s nothing in particular about Comin’ Home, just a vibe. Copperline is all about a sense of nostalgia for a place/time you can’t go back to and if that’s not perfect idk what is. The line that does it for me the most is “I tried to go back as if I could, all spec house and plywood. Tore up and tore up good, down on copperline.”

Then these last three songs are obviously the epitome of Johnny’s message about staying gold. Stevie Wonder’s Stay Gold from the movie is a little less optimistic than the one from the musical, but I think it still fits well here at the end. Fooling Yourself (The Angry Young Man) is actually very similar to Stay Gold from the musical in that it’s about having a better outlook (“you’re the one they can’t beat and you know it”, “just take your best shot and don’t blow it”). Obviously it applies to Ponyboy but I also think it could apply to Darry as well. And then of course Stay Gold from the musical. It’s tied with Throwing in the Towel as my favorite from the soundtrack so I would have included it no matter what, but what else would I have ended on? To me, Stay Gold perfectly encapsulates one of the main messages of the whole story. It’s the biggest message that I’ve taken from my recently renewed interest in the outsiders, so it only made sense to end with it.

If you made it this far or skimmed this far, thank you! I hope you enjoyed reading and hearing my thoughts.

[branwendaughterofllyr]

hiii, I just read both of your fics, and I’m going crazy because they’re not finished!!! do you have a d!scord or tw!tter account for spoilers? please save your impatient fan, Im losing my mind lol (seriously, whose body is ‘the body forgotten’?? Is robyn reswell from the stark family tree related to our robyn? how does aemond marry alyssa? how does aegon react when he learns the truth about the fire at harrenhal? why your joffery arryn's mother is a royce? I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about these, really)

Hi! So excited to hear how much you liked my fics. I dont have a twitter or a private discord server, but I do hang out a lot at the Braavos server run by the lovely @visenyasdragon and can be induced to talk about spoilers there fairly often lol.

The title of "the body forgotten" is loosely taken from a poem by Ono no Komachi (translated by Jane Hirshfield and Mariko Aratani) that goes like this:

Since this body was forgotten by the one who promised to come my only thought is wondering whether it even exists

I have always really enjoyed the themes of existentialism that permeates Heian poetry, and I often turn to it for fic titles, haha.

I think the body in question could be Sybelle's, who is very much trapped in her own head, but it could refer to her dead sister, Irinna's, or to any of the various long forgotten tombs in the barrowlands. I also picked it after reading H is for Hawk by Helen Macdonald, specifically this passage.

You want the hawk to eat the food you hold – it’s the first step in reclaiming her that will end with you being hunting partners. But the space between the fear and the food is a vast, vast gulf, and you have to cross it together. I thought, once, that you did it by being infinitely patient. But no: it is more than that. You must become invisible. Imagine: you’re in a darkened room. You are sitting with a hawk on your fist. She is as immobile, as tense and sprung as a catapult at full stretch. Underneath her huge, thorny feet is a chunk of raw steak. You’re trying to get her to look at the steak, not at you, because you know – though you haven’t looked – that her eyes are fixed in horror at your profile. All you can hear is the wet click, click, click of her blinking.

The idea that you must become invisible, nothing, so that the hawk learns not fear you, that you forget even yourself. Hawking is going to feature pretty majorly in "the body forgotten," so I thought it fit.

In my head, the canonical Robyn Ryswells is probably descended from Sybelle's brother, who will go on to be the next lord, rather than from Sybelle herself, whose only child right now is an Umber, not a Ryswell. But I did use her as the name inspiration for Birdy, since I try to use canon names where I can.

To answer "how do Aemond and Alyssa get married" and "how does Oldgon react when he learns the truth about the fire," well, I can't really, bc spoilers, haha. I will say that my take on the Fire in Harrenhal is going to be different than the show's, and it should be coming up relatively soon in the fic. Such drama.

And for Joffrey Arryn's Royce mother, the answer is I wanted higher stakes for the Vale, and to partly explain why Jeyne Arryn chose Joffrey over closer relations. Jeyne Arryn had a very good relationship with the Royces, particularly her regent, so her choosing his grandson was a safe choice for her and showed how much faith she had in them. But also, not nearly enough families were torn apart by the Dance, and I really wanted that element. For a civil war, families themselves and even whole regions were remarkably united (especially compared to the Blackfyre Rebellions and the War of the Five Kings), so I wanted to add in some higher stakes by having Joffrey's Royce cousins ultimately choosing to back Eldric Arryn (as the Royces did in canon) and move the war in the Vale up, so it actually happens during the Dance. Joffrey Arryn and his Royce cousin will be making an appearance at some point before the Dance, to keep us updated on Vale politics, lol. Also, I wanted Rhea's death to actually have some relevance, and to make it a point of conflict for the Royce-Arryn alliance, so making Joffrey's mother one of Rhea's canonical unnamed sisters was my solution to that.

Hope this answered some of your questions!