#this isn't a knock on anything specific!

[moreworldliness]

so i came across a sonic mod/exe/thing called "sink" and it got me thinking

when people try to make sonic "scary", they never really do it for me because they try to ground it too much in reality:

"oh, sonic's in the real world and is trying to kill me!"

"oh, my game is corrupted"

imo, they're not coming at it from a game angle - they're too focused on outside looking in, rather than inside looking out.

for example, a popular fandom question - why is sonic afraid of water?

if you were on the outside looking it, you could probably shrug and say "well, they needed some kind of weakness gameplay-wise and the creators didn't think hedgehogs could swim. that's that."

inside looking out, however? consider!

MAJOR WARNING FOR DROWNING BELOW THE BREAK

you're sonic the hedgehog.

at the time of the classic games, which to you are your entire life, you're 12 with miles prower (your newly acquired and handy buddy) sitting at a clean 4 years old. sometimes it crosses your mind that he might be too young for this, but time and time again, he's put your worries to rest.

you're proud of him. he's smart and you're quick - you're the perfect duo.

you must've run hours before you enter into chemical plant zone and make your way through the lower path. its been a fairly standard journey up until this point and you're not about to be intimidated by some overgrown factory. (do factories even grow? you decide to ask miles later)

at this point, you're more than aware of how your life works. it's okay if you get hurt, because you have rings. it's okay if you "pass out", because you always wake up at the start of the area you were just in, with everything just as it was.

not to brag, but you happened to think you were pretty indestructible.

falling and rolling down unimaginable stretches of pipes, you and miles finally reach a new area: a hydraulic door opens in front of you, revealing a long chute upwards. cut and dry - you turn towards miles to grab his hand.

the door shuts behind you and, as quick as you can hold your breath, you're plunged under purple water.

miles - you've grown to calling him tails, because it's easier to say; you're still twelve, after all - begins paddling upwards with ease, but you find yourself horrifyingly heavy in the water. it grabs you, pulls you downwards, thousands of arms pinning your every movement.

you jump, and hit the first platform.

you kind of regret not learning how to swim.

tails has paddled so far upwards that you can't see him anymore - not through the sludge of this water, anyway. it seems to be getting heavier too, dragging your movements as you scramble to reach the second platform.

your hands miss.

your feet fail.

you fall back down.

you become consciously aware of how tight your chest is.

you keep trying, to the same result; jump, fall. jump, fall. you aren't sure how much longer you can hold your breath, either, and the hydraulic doors are shut fast - you can't even budge them.

you've tried.

you can just about imagine tails in your mind's eye as you try the platform again, scrambling around in a panic. he's four, in a mechanised factory with no way out, suddenly all on his own. the thought alone propels you forward, and you land a grip on the platform above you.

a foothold. something - there's gotta be some way out of this.

you glance up.

the clearance of the ceiling above you is still high, but for a brief second, you can see the lights of the level above you. you can see the wavering figure of tails, looking in from above, his two tails flickering around.

he looks nervous.

you can't help but laugh in relief - he's okay.

your mistake hits you all at once.

there is no air. the crushing weight of the water bears downwards, and you drop like a stone. there are no chaos emeralds, there is no life-saving device here. just water, yourself, and your own stupid reflection.

the "passing out" feeling begins sweeping over you, and just before you shut your eyes, you recount every last feeling you've ever felt - that time you dropped from spring yard zone and hit the ground a bit too hard, or the time the walls of marble zone came in faster than anticipated.

the time robotnik (eggman, you teased, once upon a time) hit you a bit too hard.

you're dying.

you're dying over and over again, and this time the only exception is that you're made to feel it.

you want to cry.

you can't.

the water cries for you.

you blink, and you're right back at the beginning of chemical plant zone. the sky is clear, the sun is warm; the wind blows through you.

tails looks up at you, waving his hand in front of your eyes to get your attention. he looks just as expectantly nervous as he did before you entered.

he asks if you're ready.

you can't make yourself move. all you can do is drop to your knees and cry.

you heave a breath of air, but all you can taste is water.

[mochiajclayne]

I find it fascinating that Rasengan is technically an incomplete jutsu that heavily relies on shape transformation (changes the form and movement) and the complete version of it was made possible by Naruto through adding nature transformation (changes the attribute of chakra), specifically, Wind Release: Rasenshuriken.

I know this is an incredibly small detail but we have seen the lethal effects of Rasenshuriken (to the point that Tsunade even warned Naruto about using the jutsu as it is harmful on cellular levels not just to the enemy but also himself). It contains microscopic wind blades, too many to count even with Sharingan. My point is, Naruto is presented with obvious opportunities to use a powerful jutsu to stop Sasuke, especially in VOTE2 but he did not use it. It's a conscious choice and an intentional decision. He will do everything to stop Sasuke but he draw the line at killing the precious person he's been chasing for years.

[hoarding-stories]

Oh man oh man oh man

A very good reminder of the shadows cast by the Citadel's shining light

[coockie8]

Drives me nuts when it comes out that someone's a predator, or whatever, and there will be droves of people saying shit like "gotta look into all the people around them too, no way they didn't know".

'Cause predators and abusers are so notorious for telling everyone around them that they're predators or abusers, right?

Did some of their closest friends know? Maybe, but keep in mind there are people who spend like 10+ years literally married to serial killers and never have any idea.

These people typically aren't obvious about what they do, that's kinda how they get away with doing it so long.

[sunderwight]

Headcanon that Shen Yuan was hotter than Shen Qingqiu, actually.

Like yeah SQQ being a cultivator gave him a boost to enough attributes + being in a stallion novel where everyone is either unrealistic hot or dog's butt ugly got the Shen Qingqiu body extra points, and he wasn't bad looking to begin with. Plus not being ill is vastly more important to the new Shen Qingqiu than those extra hotness points (Without a Cure notwithstanding). But part of the reason why he's kind of like, meh, at least I'm not hideous or anything, is because Shen Yuan's original body was a knock out.

I also like him as chronically ill, and, as many people know, beauty standards and sustained suffering are not as incompatible as they should be. Shen Yuan was conventionally attractive in part because conventional beauty standards seem to want everyone slowly dying all the time. But even setting that aside, the man had flawless bone structure, an appealing figure, captivating eyes, and the kind of voice that stopped people in their tracks.

All of which was a contributing factor to his antisocial lifestyle, actually. Despite the fact that Shen Yuan does enjoy company and requires a certain baseline of social enrichment for his enclosure, his internalized homophobia and closeting did not play well with overtures from interested parties (regardless of gender). The only way to minimize the odds of him being asked out on dates was to essentially become a shut-in, especially since even Shen Yuan can only make so many excuses before he himself starts to notice that he's going to a lot of effort to avoid specifically that avenue of socialization. Far better to just remove himself from any risk of it, and then vocally lament that oh no he's just too much of a nerd to get anywhere with women!

Anyway this largely doesn't matter much outside of sheer comedy potential for any situation where SY gets his old body/life back. Like imagine a reveal scenario where the System is going to transport them back to their old lives.

Shang Qinghua: well bro I guess this is gonna be the ultimate test of love, right?

Shen Yuan: what do you mean?

Shang Qinghua: our husbands are gonna see what we looked like back before we were glorious cultivators! they're going to have to track us down in our mundane, kinda shitty pre-transmigration lives! it's gonna be at least a little embarrassing, right?

Shen Yuan: *gets his old body back*

Shang Qinghua, normal human with average looks: ...

Shen Yuan, exemplary 11/10: ?

Shang Qinghua: what. the fuck?? bro what the fuck why are you hot???

Shen Yuan: don't make it weird

Shang Qinghua: make it weird??? why were you sitting at home reading my shitty novel when you could have been out there building your own harem???

Shen Yuan: stop exaggerating

Shang Qinghua: oh my god you've always been like this. this is it, isn't it? it wasn't even brain damage from the transmigration or something--

Shen Yuan: hey

Shang Qinghua: --you've just always been completely unaware, haven't you? every time I wrote a beautiful woman who didn't know her own appeal you'd be jumping down my throat--

Shen Yuan: because that's a stupid trope--!

Shang Qinghua: --JUMPING DOWN MY THROAT EXACTLY LIKE THAT but this whole time THIS WHOLE TIME it wasn't even a glow-up issue, you've just been that, personified, yourself--

Shen Yuan: look I know I'm not ugly but I'm not I'm hardly that good-looking

Shang Qinghua: YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO CRITICIZE THAT TROPE AGAIN! oh my god. how many broken hearts did you leave behind when you died?!

Shen Yuan: none, I wasn't even seeing anyone--

Shang Qinghua: yeah full offense but I am nottt taking your word for that. I bet you had a harem you didn't know about in this lifetime too. I bet you had a fan club, like an anime prince

Shen Yuan: *mumbling*

Shang Qinghua: what was that?

Shen Yuan: I said... only in high school...

Shang Qinghua: oh my god

Shen Yuan: it wasn't a big deal!

Shang Qinghua: *frantically trying to see if he can find any trace of it on the internet now*

[teaboot]

I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?

Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.

Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.

Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.

Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.

Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.

Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.

Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.

Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.

Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.

Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.

Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.

Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.

Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.

Dont let them free roam. At all.

I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...

I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.

Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck

Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane

Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess

Here, have an Ollie Pic

[cute-sucker]

all i can think about is boxer!rafe with his cute clumsy gf??

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

rafe being a boxer did not help your situation as an unnaturally clumsy person.

you're always on the brink of failing down, head face first into concrete, or something even worse. you feel like an idiot every single day as you try to get through obstacles that face your everyday life.

going up the stairs? yes, you have fallen going up the stairs.

going down the stairs? check that off the list too. that was done a hot minute ago. it's all a blur to you, but when you and rafe first got into a relationship it was alarming the amount of bruises you got.

it was strange to be with someone so coordinated as him, as if every single on his moves was strategic. you had watched him box and every move deliberate. power and strength oozed off of him, and you wondered what you even offered in the relationship. after all he was the one taking care of you.

he could tell when you were about to fall - his hand stuck out to catch you, he could tell when you were going to trip, hands reaching for your shoulders. you would always give him a cute smile afterwards, and a welcoming kiss.

but there were other times when you felt worse about it, crying to him about how incompetent you were, "can't do it, rafe. i'm so, so clumsy," and you could tell that he was fighting the urge to laugh as you pouted.

"nah. i like it," he would mutter, before gently smudging your lipstick with his finger as he tilted down to give you a peck, "keeps me on my toes."

and yet there were times when being clumsy did not help at all.

you were snuggled to his side, smelling his hoodie in deeply before sighing. the movie was playing in the background as he held you close to his chest, as a soft humming escaped your lips. it was a moment you knew you would always remember, and you raised your arms to stretch.

little to your knowledge the sleeves of your shirt went down to uncover a litter of blue and green bruises. they looked fairly recent but still were blossoming on your skin. unbeknownst to you, rafe's eyes quickly traveled to your arms.

"hey? you good?" he sputtered out, and you gave him a smitten nod, burrowing deeper into his chest. rafe looked even more concerned, readjusting - which forced you to get up as a short whine left your mouth.

he tugged at your sweatshirt, "what the hell was that?"

you furrowed your eyebrows, "what the hell was what? you have to be more specific rafe-" you hated this, and even though you didn't know what he was talking about there was this inkling of fear that stuck into your heart.

rafe let out a grunt, before pulling away down your sleeves again, and then he pointed at the bruises, "these? who hurt you?"

dumbfounded you stared at your arms, and then looked at rafe - his eyes practically bugging out of their sockets, jaw clenched as if a vein was about to burst and you couldn't help but start giggling.

"hey. hey, focus," a hand reached for your jaw as you stared into his steely eyes. suddenly you saw another side of him, the rafe that everyone talked about. the one that could knock out a guy with one punch, the one that came home with bloody knuckles and a chewed mouth guard. and yet it was the same rafe that slept in your bed comfortably and whispered your name gently as if he wanted to etch it on his heart.

that rafe.

you had zoned out again before you noticed his furious expression, and then an unpleasant smile that crossed on his face. it looked as if he was trying to feign being calm, and you felt tears prick your eyes.

"rafe-"

"no crying. c'mon baby, just give me a name."

now you were chuckling through tears, and he gave him an incredulous look.

finally he pecked your lips, his words oddly sweet, "listen. i've always told you i'm gonna protect you right. it's jeff isn't it-" his words came out sharp, and you knew exactly who he was talking about - your boss at the restaurant you worked at who complained about your inability to do anything right.

but that was definitely not it.

"rafe!" you finally sputtered, "rafe it's me."

finally he stopped, his mouth gaping open, "what do you mean it's you sweets?"

you huffed, looking down at your arms, "i'm so darn clumsy that i have bruises everywhere. i always check before i go to bed, yk' to check how many i have."

rafe's concern quickly shifted to a mix of frustration and worry as he examined the bruises on your arms, letting soft clucks. he let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you with a furrowed brow.

"sweetheart, you have to be more careful," he said, his tone tinged with annoyance but softened by genuine concern, and then he finally tugged you in closer as you started to protest.

"we'll talk about this later. maybe you'll start boxing, huh? you'll be my little champ."

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

taglist for all my fics; @wearemadeofstardust0

taglist for boxer!rafe: @maybankslover @vogueprincess @spookyscaryspoon

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[tetsumie]

"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘" 𝐏𝐓 𝟐

read part 1 here!

pairing: kuroo x reader & bokuto x reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: the boys call you clingy but they don’t mean it

a/n: hello ahhh it's been awhile since i've posted but i'm trying to get back into the habit of writing again! someone in my inbox had requested me to add bokuto to this list so i tried my best but i hope you all enjoyed this and feel free to stop by my inbox to leave a comment, tell me your thoughts, or just lmk how it's going hehe :,)

kuroo tetsuro

"i'm home," a mumble echoed out into the empty living room.

at the sound of the door opening, you make your way out of your shared bedroom to greet your overworked boyfriend, kuroo.

"hi baby," you replied with a tired smile on your features.

the door closes and kuroo slides off his slacks, loosens his tie, runs his fingers through his hair, and sighs in exhaustion.

"hey."

"have you eaten dinner yet?" you start to ramble. " i can warm up dinner and we could maybe share a meal together?"

"we haven't spent much time together in a while so you know.. i was just thinking... we could do something small together?"

you continue to ramble about how you spent all evening trying a new recipe you saw on tiktok that really fascinated you.

but kuroo is not having it.

all he wants to do is just go to bed and forget the past couple shitty days he's had at work. today, especially, was stressful considering how nothing had gone his way and the higher ups just wouldn’t stop giving him a hard time.

he kept his frustration, tiredness, anger all bottled up for the past couple days and they were all about to boil out.

on top of that, your constant rambling isn't helping. you keep talking and talking and talking and his mind is beginning to get cloudy and his anger is about to boil over.

his voice rises and he finally speaks, "god y/n.. can you just shut the fuck up and stop being all up in my space? you're so fucking clingy just leave me alone."

oh.

you mouth shuts up mid sentence and you're looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye after hearing his true feelings.

"sorry, i just wanted to spend some time and talk and relax with you..." your voice goes quiet. "you've been out really late for the past couple days so i was just hoping-"

however, kuroo's outburst isn't over yet. if anything, your little comment voicing your concerns seems to have make him a bit more upset.

"yeah, i've been out late because of how suffocating it is here at home with you. god, it's like you just can't take a fucking hint! just leave me the fuck alone!" he says and your eyes go a bit glassy.

"r-right," you say as you're turning around so he doesn't see the tears forming in your eyes. "sorry, i'll respect your wishes and give you your space."

seeing your hunched figure walking away brought him back to his senses.

what the fuck did i just say to them? oh my god.

"y/n wait i'm sorry-" he begins but is cut off.

"kuroo, i think you've said enough tonight."

the sound of his last name coming out of your mouth leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and he knows he's fucked up immensely. the door to the bedroom closes, indicating that you're clocking out for the night and you can't deal with this conversation any bit longer.

kuroo sits himself on the couch with his head in his hands, shaking his head.

what the hell did i just say to them? it's not even their fault... i just... how the hell do i make it up to them?

kuroo walks to the door and places three subtle knocks on the door, begging for permission to enter. he's greeted with no acknowledgement or response.

he turns the knob and to his surprise it opens. there, he sees you fast alseep in your comforter in a fetal-like position. he goes into the closet, changes into his pajamas, and immediately climbs into bed.

he brings you close to his side of the bed, specifically putting your head on his chest. he begins to stroke your hair and places gentle kisses on your head, mumbling soft "i'm sorry's" and "i love you's."

he's praying to whatever deity out there that this would blow over by tomorrow morning or something.

but kuroo wakes up the next morning to his worst nightmare: you're not in bed with him. he feels his blood run cold and he's running the worst case scenarios in his head.

he rushes out of the bedroom to see that you're nowhere in the apartment. he sees a bright colored post-it note stuck on to the fridge with a note scribbled in your handwriting.

"i'm staying at a friend's house for the next couple of days. i just need time to think for a bit. there's some leftovers from last night in the fridge so make sure you eat those.

love u always, y/n"

kuroo's hands shake as he's holding your post-it note.

of course, they'd leave. i treated them like shit and hurt them so badly of course they want to leave. but even after everything, they still love me… i don’t deserve them.

kuroo begins to spiral and the next couple of days aren't any easy for him.

every attempt at texting or calling you has lead to no response. he goes to sleep without you next to him, holding back tears every time. every morning without fail, he pats the vacancy next to him in hopes that you'll be there but to his demise, every time, you're not. work feels even more lethargic than usual. before, he used to look forward to coming home to you but now you're not even at home so what's the point in even trying. counting down the hours until he gets to leave his cubicle has become futile.

i just really want them back. please come back home.

but when he comes home from a pain achingly long day of work, he doesn't find you and his mood plummets even more.

that is until one day, kuroo is able to leave work early where he comes home and hears the familiar noise of the coffee maker brewing. his eyes shoot up from his slacks to look over at the kitchen where he sees you in all your beauty, fidgeting with the knobs on the coffee machine. your eyes both lock and you immediately look away.

kuroo thought you were gone for good. and the fact that you were only a couple feet away from him made his heart swell and his eyes water. there's so much to say but his not a single word is escaping his mouth.

"you want some coffee? i just started a new batch," you finally say to fill up the silence of the room.

he gulps, "sure yeah."

you grab a coffee cup and pour him a fresh cup of coffee and slide it to him across the kitchen counter, avoiding getting too close to him.

too nervous to even touch his drink, he begins to address the elephant in the room, "y/n, i'm so sorry for what i said that night. i had no right to speak to you in the manner."

"it's okay," you say in a curt manner. "i get it."

he shakes his head and tries to get closer to you to convey his feelings but is stopped when he sees you take a step back. his heart cracks.

"no it's not okay sweetheart. i've been so busy with work and i just got super overwhelmed with everything and-"

"kuroo, you know you don't have to make any excuses right?" you interrupt his train of thought.

he's confused now. "excuses? y/n what are you even talking about- "

"just end it with me already... i know you want to," you say, looking down at the fresh cup of coffee in your hands. "you made that very clear."

his world freezes.

the world becomes completely silent.

his mouth is slightly open, caught off guard. he doesn't know what to say.

however, you interpret his silence as him putting down the excuses finally and admitting that he doesn't want to put effort into this relationship with you anymore.

hell, he doesn’t even want this relationship with you anymore.

"right, if you won't i will so it's easier for the both of us. i think we should-"

"don't you dare finish that fucking sentence," he moves close to you all of a sudden and his familiar lingering cheap cologne smell takes up your senses. the gears begin to click in his head before you can respond to him.

kuroo's arms envelop you in his embrace. "i want you. only you. i'm sorry i made you think otherwise."

the tears you've been holding back for the past couple minutes standing in front of him overflow and you feel like the world is about to end.

you push kuroo off you slightly. "i know you've been busy with work and i just wanted to spend some time with you. i never meant to come off as clingy but clearly you thought so so-"

"i'm just a complete douche,” he interrupts. “you were trying to help me out and make me feel better and i was so caught up with work, i couldn't appreciate that."

"i never want to ever make you feel that way again. you never deserved to hear any of that from me and everything i said couldn't be far from the truth. your presence has never been a bother and if anything, coming home to you is the best part of my day.”

“i shouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me and i'm so sorry that it did and that i hurt you in the process. i hate that i’m the reason behind your tears and i’ll do everything to make it up to you to show you how much i love you."

the tears from your eyes continue to flow and he delicately wipes every single one from your eyes kissing your cheek every time without fail.

"are you sure you don’t find me suffocating? you said that you hated being home with me though so i just thought-" you start to say.

"i will spend my entire life reassuring you that it isn’t true. i promise you are never suffocating me and your presence never fails to make me feel better on a shitty day. i will do anything to regain your trust and faith in me,” he adamantly speaks with his hands in yours.

hearing his determined resolve, the tears flow even more.

"i love you so much, tetsu."

"i love you too baby," he smiles and delicately kisses your lips. "now let's go out. how do you feel about going out for dinner? i’ve got a lot of making up to you to do."

"i'll never say no to that."

bokuto koutaro

the msby jackals lost 2-0 sets and the entire team was taking the loss hard but no one as hard as bokuto.

"bokuto-san, what do you think went wrong today's game?" an interviewer asks with his notepad out, scribbling notes.

"er, uh, well, today was just a rough day and i had a tough time keeping up with the opponent's plays today... it just was not a good day."

"i have one more question," the interviewer asks.

"go ahead," he gruffs out.

"you are known for your infamous line shots especially during deciding moments of the game. you missed multiple of these shots during today's game. were you distracted during this game? is it because of your new relationship status or were-"

bokuto is now riled up. who the hell does this interviewer think he is to corner me and bring in my personal life???

"i'm leaving, fuck this shit," he spits out, trying his best to maintain his composure.

in frustration, bokuto storms out of the press conference room, slamming the double doors, heading towards the locker room to grab his stuff but is stopped by you, running after him.

"kou! wait up!" you say from a distance and he stops in his tracks to look at you. he's still internally raging from the provocative behavior of that interviewer and he feels like he just might lose it.

"what do you want," he says in an aggressive manner that catches you off guard.

you’re aware of the recent loss of the msby jackals. you know that's probably taking a toll on his confidence as a player so you're trying to be as supportive as you can.

"you wanna come back to my place? i was thinking we could watch that one disney movie you like and we could bake something together too? what do you think?"

"why do you always want to fucking hang out?" he says in the lowest tone of voice you've ever heard from him.

it sends shivers down your spine.

"huh?" you're just confused at this point.

"why are you so fucking clingy all the time? it's always 'kou come over!' or 'kou let's watch a movie!' or 'kou let's take a nap together!' like don't you fucking get that i have a genuine career that i'm working really hard to be successful in?"

so that's what he thinks of me.

"i know you want to be a pro volleyball player and i want to support you the entire way. i was just trying to be there for you and help you relax..." you trail. "i get today was really rough for you.."

"that's the thing you don't get it, y/n!" he says exasperatedly. "if you did want to be supportive for me and my career, then you would stop being so all up on me and give my space!"

he walks into the locker room, slamming the door, shaking you up.

in defeat, you begin to leave the stadium with tears brimming your eyes. as you get in your car, you put your head on the steering wheel and suddenly, the tears start to stream out.

"i'll give him his space. i'll just stop everything. i'm nothing of importance to him or his life so it's best if i just stop." you convince yourself.

bokuto, on the other hand, is in the locker room, holding back tears of frustration as he punched one of the lockers.

fuck, what am i even doing right now...

"bokuto-san! let's head out for the night," shoyo's voice can be heard before he can be seen in the locker room. "we're gonna go get drinks and dinner at that new barbecue place that opened up."

he looks up from the bench and smiles at shoyo along with the rest of his teammates that are nodding along in support.

"yeah, sure. fine with me," kou responds with a small smile on his face.

as bokuto and the rest of the jackals are out and about, he keeps looking at his phone in hopes of getting a message or something from you but you're completely radio silent after the spat between the two of you.

he knows you both had a disagreement but he thought you knew that he was just frustrated and upset with the game. he didn't think it was a reason to just go silent on him.

he sends a text to test the waters.

kou <3: babe, we're good right?

he puts his phone down and engages back in the dinner with the rest of the jackals.

an hour has passed yet still no response. it's starting to make him fidgety so he decides to spam you.

kou <3: hello?

kou <3: baby wya???

kou <3: where is the loml at :((

kou <3: BABYYYYYYY

kou <3: POOKIE PLS TXT ME BACK :(((

y/n is typing...

y/n: sry i was getting ready for bed.

you sounded distant. you clearly were upset but was it still about the argument? c'mon you knew he didn't mean what he said... right?

kou <3: ITS OKAY BABY! can i come over? i wanna spend the night with u :,)

kou <3: i miss you

y/n: maybe not tonight... i think it's best if we're by ourselves for a bit

bokuto's hair significantly drooped down, seeing as how he got rejected to hang out with you for the night.

as bokuto heads over to his apartment for the night, he stares at the bedroom ceiling with his thoughts. he misses laying next to his baby. that's when he starts to replay everything that went down between the two of you.

he genuinely can't figure out what went wrong.

he prays that this whole thing will just blow over by tomorrow because he misses you incredibly and just wants to spend time with you.

unfortunately to his demise, you kept shutting down all of kou's efforts to come over. you refused to pick up his calls, resorting to half assed texts.

this whole argument was festering and bokuto had to fix it immediately.

you, however, want nothing more than to spend time with your boyfriend but his words kept running through your mind on loop. anytime you would be sitting alone with yourself, his words kept playing themselves on loop in your brain, making you overthink the post couple months you’ve spent together.

has he always thought of me as clingy? have i always been a bother to him? have i always been super annoying in his eyes?

that was until you heard a knock on the door.

you open the door and see kou standing there in a hoodie and a pair of khakis with a large bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands. his eyes lock with yours while yours widen in surprise.

"k-kou! what are you doing here?" you say in surprise.

"what, i can't see my partnet now?" he retorts lightheartedly. "let me in."

too stunned to even reject him, your hand inherently finds its way to the knob, widening the door so bokuto can fit through into your apartment.

he tries to hand you the flowers but you stand there, hands refusing to move from their sides. "c'mon babe, i got them for you! do you not like them? man, i knew i should've gotten the roses instead."

"no no! thank you so much kou.. i'm just surprised that you even got this for me..." you trail off looking away from him.

he sets the flowers on the kitchen counter and tilts his head in confusion. "what do you mean, y/n?"

"listen, i know you don't really like spending time with me and that you feel obligated to but honestly, we really don't have to hang out or anything like that," you begin to say. "i know i can be a lot sometimes and i'm really working on trying to give you space."

that's when it all clicks in his head for him.

"baby, is this about what i said that day in the gym?" he questions.

you turn away, refusing to even look him in the eye because you know the moment your eyes lock with his, the tears will start streaming down your face.

"baby, no, please," he goes over to you to give you the warmest yet tightest hug possible. "i’m also a very clingy person so i should've known how much my words must have hurt you. i've been so stupid to not see how badly my words must have impacted you, my love. i'm so so sorry for saying and acting the way i did. it's unexcusable."

"no kou it's fine i just-" you say but are interrupted midsentence.

"no, y/n it's not," he says, tears brimming his eyes ever since coming to terms with how hurt you must've been feeling this entire time. "i'll do anything to get your forgiveness and for us to just... be close again. i'll do anything, i mean it."

tears are streaming down both your faces and you can't help but form a wobbly smile on your lips. "pinky promise?"

"pinky promise," kou says as he locks pinkies with you and kisses the top of your head. "now let's cuddle because i've missed being near the love of my life."

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved 

[gloomwitchwrites]

Through the Corn

Scare Actor John Price x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: rough oral sex (male receiving), established relationship, primal kink, mask kink, unprotected piv, creampie

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Requested by @tintamm for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Chased Through a Corn Maze)

You visit the corn maze John is temporarily working at as a scare actor. A bit of silly fun turns into a steamy chase in the dark.

ao3 // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

This is the event you've been waiting for all year. There isn't anything like it for miles. You've mostly come in support of your boyfriend, John Price, and to experience a good scare.

Black Hallow Interactive Corn Maze, the sign reads at the entrance.

By entering into the Black Hallow Interactive Corn Maze you automatically OPT-IN to our interactive experience.

During October, John enjoys earning extra money by working as a scare actor at different attractions. This is his first year working for a local business and not some large amusement park.

You may be touched, carried, restrained, pushed, pulled, separated, fed, played with, and asked to participate in various activities.

This is the adult corn maze. Something special only on certain nights. John wanted you to come specifically to this event, mostly to see all their hard work, but to also have a bit of fun. You already know what he'll be dressed as, but John is the protective type. He doesn't want anyone else touching you.

At any time if you want to OPT-OUT you can say "BOO" and our actors will stop their interactive experience with you.

Welcome to Black Hallow.

"You're John's woman." The security guard at the front entrance gives you a kind smile.

"I am."

"Said you were coming." He waves you in and then gives you a little salute. "Have fun."

The entrance to the corn maze is narrow, allowing for two people to stand shoulder-to-shoulder but nothing more. As you approach a T-interaction, a scare actor in torn jeans, a plaid button-up, and a stringy blond wig roams the area. Their shoulders and legs jerk about like a roaming zombie, and when you approach, they block the path to the right, forcing you off to the left.

Either John has planned this or you're simply following a direction. He said he would find you. That he'd chase you down.

Out in the country, there isn't any light other than the moon overhead and that which the maze provides. Most of the lights are red and dampened, giving the space a blood-tinged feel. As you walk, the cornstalks sway and move. You hear others in the maze cry out or giggle. A few times, you come across other visitors. One woman is cornered before being lifted up and over a scare actor's shoulder, snatched and separated from her group.

Will John find you like this? Will he corner you? Take you away and do with you what he likes?

As you take a turn, you find a wall of darkness. You cannot see the other end of the corn. No light reaches it. Adrenaline spikes in your gut, creeping up to your chest. For most of the walk, you've been enjoying yourself, but this stirs up a sense of dread.

There is nothing dangerous. Nothing sinister. You are fully aware of this and yet your body's physical response is the exact opposite of what your brain is telling you.

You're swallowed up by the dark. There are no stars, and the moon is currently covered by clouds. Every step forward only increases the creeping anxiety. Your heart thunders in your chest, drowning out all noise.

Something brushes against your right side. You jerk away from the sensation, knocking into corn stalks on your left.

Have you strayed that far over?

You reach out, attempting to find your bearings and a sense of direction. Moving left puts you into the corn. Moving right is open air and—

A large, muscled arm wraps around your waist. A scream claws up your throat, but before it emerges, a hand clamps over your mouth, stifling your cry. Something long and slightly hooked brushes against the side of your face, the tip catching on the front of your jacket. Instinct drives you. Reaching up to touch it, you find no blade or any sharpened weapon.

It's a mask. A plague doctor's mask.

John.

The hand over your mouth slowly descends, resting against the front of your throat. The grip is firm but not painful. It’s a show of dominance and a command for submission. You're drawn against a warm body and hardness.

"That you, John?"

There is a brief stretch of silence before his familiar husky voice answers. "Ready to run, love?"

You nod and John releases you. "Go," he whispers, and you take off.

As you charge forward, you're not sure if John is following. The darkness is almost absolute and you crash headlong into the corn before stumbling backward and righting yourself.

Turning left, you move ahead, only to emerge into a red-lit area with stacked hay. They create natural barriers, and the perfect place for anyone to hide behind. But John is behind you. Your path is clear.

As you navigate around the stacks, a figure steps out from behind the final row. John's silhouette is unmistakable. The plague doctor mask is only confirmation.

You come to halt, nearly slipping as your shoe catches on some flattened corn. Walking backward and away from John's casual stroll, you bump into a stack of hay. It's sturdy, and doesn't topple forward, but it startles you all the same.

You glance away from John for a moment—a single second. When you return your attention to him, you find the space completely empty. Spinning in a circle, you realize you're alone, at least to the naked eye.

John could still be watching somewhere in the dark. Tentatively, you make your way forward and into another stretch of empty corn. This area lacks light, but the clouds move at the perfect moment, revealing a dark figure at the other end before another turn.

John's masked head tilts to the side. There are shrieks and screams from somewhere behind you. Going forward is the only option.

You start slowly, creeping forward. John remains perfectly still until the last possible second. He lunges, and you step to the side, shrieking, running for all your worth. John follows, easily keeping pace. You are no match for his endurance even as you truly attempt to outpace him. The thrill pumping through your blood is thunderous. You're no longer scared, just excited.

You want John to catch you.

A few more turns in the corn and a fist grabs the back of your jacket. You're yanked to a stop, crashing into John as he hauls you against him. The plague mask is pushed up, at least enough for him to bend you backwards a bit and claim your mouth with a possessive kiss. Heat shoots right through you, swirling downwards toward your pussy.

You groan against his mouth, and John answers with one of his own. Your lips part and his tongue slides inside. You suck on it, giving it a light nip. John's grip on you tightens, and then you're being forced to your knees.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other undoing the front of his pants, you watch with eagerness as he reveals his hardness to you. Eagerly, you open your mouth, surrendering to his control, and the way he fucks your throat. Your mouth is full of him, and your eyes water from the intrusion. The two of you might be in the dark but you're out in the open. The thrill of potentially getting caught is its own addiction.

Placing one hand against his thigh, you anchor yourself, even as John controls the movement of your head. The knees of your jeans will surely be stained, but it's worth it. It's worth watching John's head tip back in pleasure as he forces your mouth to take all of him.

Relaxing your throat, you urge him on with soft sighs of pleasure. His fingers tighten, and then he's holding you in place, your lips nearly touching his pelvis as he finishes down your throat.

You swallow every drop, and when he withdraws, you keep your mouth open.

"Tongue out,” he growls.

You do so and John hums with approval. With his hand on the back of your neck, John draws you back to standing. A hint of moonlight illuminates his eyes. They are soft as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

"Run," he murmurs, readjusting the mask.

You languidly back away and John shakes his head as he starts after you.

You don't make it far. A few corners and then John is dragging you into the corn itself. He undoes and shoves your jeans down to your knees before guiding you down on all fours.

Amongst the dirt and corn, John breeds you. Each thrust is rough and intense, skin slapping against skin in the dark. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, stifling your moans as best you can. People rush by, yelling and screeching as actors chase them through the flattened corn.

None of them notice you.

John's grunts are muted behind the mask, but his hands are harsh, fingers digging into your skin, holding on like you'll disappear. You'll be filthy when he's through with you. Not only messy between your legs but covered dirt-strained and sweaty.

His steady thrusting becomes erratic, a sign of his end. Your pussy flutters and clenches, squeezing around him, pleasure surging upward in a wave of bliss. Your orgasm is intense and you have to bite down on your own arm to stifle the moan.

John holds you tightly against him, his release exploding, flooding your pussy. The two of you linger like this before he slips out. John presses two fingers to your sex. They slide through the mess.

He drags you up, flattening your back against his front. Those two cum-coated fingers drag over your lips, forcing them open. You suck them clean, satiated.

When they pop wetly from your mouth, you twist to look at him, and you're greeted with his lips on yours. These kisses are languid. Sweet.

"Up for one more chase?"

taglist:

@km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath @glitterypirateduck

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@marispunk @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[shslbunnylover]

Can I request a fic where Natasha romanoff and the reader are married for tax pourposes, and nat fogets she's married until someone starts talking about her wife that they met on a mission?

With mean nat, and some smut?

🥝

★ ★ ★ A much needed reminder ★ ★ ★

Character: Natasha Romanoff

Summary: After Natasha forgets about your marriage that was based on convenience, she realizes just how much she loves you.

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: NSFW, slight angst and mention of unrequited love, Daddy kink, choking kink, slight spanking, rough sex, mean(ish) Natasha, G!P Natasha (with condom), slight dacryphilia,

Genre: Smut

Author's Note: I've been revived!!

Word Count: 4.02k

Natasha Romanoff. Feared Avenger, skilled assassin, and your wife. Well...not so much the last part. Your relationship was mostly out of convenience, leaving you, who had fallen in love with Natasha a few months into your relationship, heartbroken and bitter against the world. You were literally married to this woman, yet she was nothing more than a stranger most nights.

The two of you had lived in the Avengers Tower for around a year when she brought the concept of a convenience-based marriage. She dragged you into a dark room, and you had honestly believed that you were about to meet death right then and there until she had dropped that bombshell.

"We need to get married," She had stated bluntly, looking down at you as you sat in the chair she had practically forced you into.

"Huh-? Natasha, what the hell??" You replied, looking up at the redhead as the slight slivers of light from the window illuminated her sharp green eyes as they stared down at you.

A few long moments pass, the only noise in the room being that of her and you breathing.

She sighed, just blinking for a minute before sitting down.

"Look, Y/N..." Natasha began, twirling a pen on her fingers, the ball point moving quickly as it spun around in her hand.

Your vision fell to the pen, then back up to the assassin.

"Out of every Avenger here, you're the one I'm most comfortable doing this with. This isn't anything romantic, but it's purely for our benefit," She explained, her hands placed on the table as she leaned in.

"Our benefit? How exactly?" You looked at her curiously, becoming intrigued by the offer against your better judgment.

"Tax benefits, credits to be specific. It would also be a way for you to ward off those annoying ass fans of yours," Natasha's head gestured to your left towards the only window (and light source) in the room that gave a view of the city below.

You sighed, you knew that last statement was true. As an Avenger, when you gained strength you would also have creepy and obsessed fans who would devote their life to you in some parasocial relationship. Being single didn't help that either, and with having The Black Widow holding your hand out in public acting as your wife, you knew the amount of obsessed fans (public ones at least) would decrease.

"You don't have to agree to this, but if you want it, meet me in my compound later," She'd said before leaving the room.

You sat in that room for a long while, debating your options.

But eventually you came to a conclusion.

"Natasha?" You knocked on the redhead's door, sighing as she opened the door. "We have a deal."

You barely managed to see the notoriously rude Avenger crack a small smile.

"Alright, we'll figure out the legal shit in the morning," Her smile dropped once again, before gently shutting the door.

The two of you were married in the courthouse after less than a week following the conversation in the room, leaving you married in the eyes of the general public and more importantly the government and tax office.

Nothing had really changed between you two in terms of your emotional connection. Sure the other Avengers would tease you about being married and would constantly compare the two of you to complete rocks when it came to the love in your marriage, but you didn't mind because you and her were only in this for convenience, it wasn't like you actually liked each other.

That last fact however, changed around a year into your "marriage".

You sat alone in the main lounge room in the tower, most of the others out on some minor missions, almost the entire crew excluding you and Natasha, who had been injured in a previous mission and was forced to stay at the compound. As her "spouse", the rest of the crew sacrificed you to stay with her under yet another one of their "funny" jokes against your arrangement. You didn't really mind being told to stay in the building though, it gave you a free day off.

Turned on in the background was some random reality TV show that consisted more of fake tears and drama then any actual real glimpse of human emotion, but it was still your vice nonetheless.

With your feet propped on the couch and a bowl of leftover Chinese food in your hands, you watched the show on the television with lazy eyes. You didn't have any real responsibilities at the moment, Natasha was way too stubborn to even think about letting you take care of her, no matter how "married" you may have been to the rest of the team.

About an hour passed when you heard the assassin's voice come out of the hallway in a groan.

"Ah shit-" She grimaced, walking down the hallway, her stubborn self still refusing any help, even in the form of leaning on the wall.

"Nat?" You paused the TV, placing your bowl of rice on the table before standing up to see what was going on behind you.

"What-?" She gritted her teeth, her bandaged leg faltering her steps and forcing the redhead to slow her pace.

"You know you were told to relax and call me if you needed anything," You sighed, looking your wife up and down in a disapproving manner.

"Y/N, I don't need your help," Natasha scoffed, ever the unwilling to receive assistance.

You let out yet another exhale, and you pulled her to the couch you were once sitting on.

"Yes you do, I'm taking care of this wound," You grabbed a first aid kit before kneeling in front of her to unwrap the old bandages.

You placed gauze on the wound, gentle against the assassin's skin so as to not aggravate the wound.

With gentle hands the assassin obviously wasn't used to, you finished cleaning up her leg, before gently placing Natasha's leg down.

You looked up when you heard her laugh.

"What?"

"You're just like a little housewife aren't you?" She smirked, looking down at you with a cocky expression.

Your eyes widened, and your heart felt as if it was both stopping and speeding up at the exact same time.

Your face broke out into a small blush, and you remained quiet, just darting your eyes away from the green eyes gleaming down at you with a mixture of mischief and teasing.

Fuck.

Later came one of Tony's infamous parties, you'd gotten all dressed up, wearing a small pink dress that highlighted your body, falling right above your knees.

Since the incident that revealed your feelings, you and Natasha didn't even talk, once again returning to strangers. You acted like the other didn't exist, despite feeling empty without the redhead around you. But you attempted to be away from Natasha as much as possible in an attempt to squish your feelings for the older woman.

You stood against the wall, chatting with an old friend who also happened to be a minor acquaintance of Tony's. Your eyes glanced over, and you found yourself staring at Natasha as she discussed...well...whatever she was discussing was some random thing you didn't seem to recall knowing. You assumed her to be another acquaintance of Tony's, most likely an employee or even a news reporter, though you decided on the former.

A small exhale escaped your lips before you turned back to your old friend.

"So, what's been up with you? It's been so long since I've seen you!" You smiled.

"Life's been so chaotic, Y/N, I tell you! But the chaos has honestly all been worth it. After all, I did gain a husband out of it!" They held up their hand, the medium sized diamond on their ring shining under the florescent light of the room.

You gasped.

"You got married??" You exclaimed excitedly.

They nodded.

"I tell you, I didn't see it coming, but married life has been amazing! The man I've loved for 7 years only seems that more special to me, and I didn't even know that was possible!"

In response, you took a sip of your drink, looking down at the hand that held the glass. You internally sighed at the lack of a ring on your finger, but you went back to a smile so as to not give away any sense of the heartbreak you were experiencing.

You were originally okay with the arrangement you shared with Natasha, because you never had feelings for the assassin and it wouldn't feel like you had everything you wanted but at the same time nothing you wanted.

But that changed.

You didn't understand where the feelings began, but now your life felt like an empty shell. On the outside, you were married to the one you loved. But on the inside, there was no love in your relationship.

It was all for convenience.

You two hadn't even come in the same car to this party, what made you think you were worthy of truly being married to the woman of your dreams.

Little did you know that Natasha had begun to match your feelings as well, but hid them as much as possible...

"So, Romanoff, what are you up to?" The man Natasha was talking to asked.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asked.

"Have you finally settled down and got yourself a partner?" He pushed her shoulder jokingly.

Natasha tilted her head, crossing her arms.

"No," She said genuinely, seemingly forgetting your entire existence.

"Really? Damn," He sighed with a laugh, adjusting his lean against the wall and smirking.

"What about you?" Natasha questioned out of obligation; she always hated these parties, especially when people she was barely acquainted with came up to her and asked about her personal life.

"I haven't gotten a partner yet...but, I met this cutie on a mission and I'm gonna ask them out," He replied, his smirk only increasing.

The redhead raised her eyebrows in curiosity.

"Really? Who?" She asked.

The man pointed his thumb to the side gesturing to you as you continued to talk with the old friend of yours.

"The one in the pink," He licked his lips.

The redhead looked around, before eventually finding who he was pointing at. When she saw it was you he was pointing at, a rush of anger coursed through every one of Natasha's veins, and she felt one of them sticking out of her forehead.

"They're married." Natasha spat, biting the inside of her cheek.

The man furrowed his eyebrows.

"Really? They don't have a wedding ring, and they never mentioned it," He looked over at you.

Natasha grit her teeth, clenching her fists.

"Yeah. They're married," She glared.

"Woah, okay!" The man laughed nervously. "What's got your panties in a twist?"

Natasha adjusted her lean, and she looked off to the side.

"I don't have anything in a twist, just giving you the truth," She tossed her braid over her shoulder.

The man gave her an awkward look, but eventually rolled his eyes.

"Alright Romanoff, whatever you say," He replied.

Hours passed and Natasha stood in the back silently, recollecting her feelings towards you and your marriage in general.

When that man mentioned you, she had felt guilt washing through her veins. She actually forgot about your marriage. Why did that make her upset though? She wasn't supposed to actually fall in love with you... She hadn't had a crush in years before she realized her feelings for you. She felt her heart beating faster than normal when she saw you, and she recently felt the need to actually be yours for the rest of your life.

Why did this have to be so confusing?

The end of the party finally came, and Natasha looked up to see you leaving.

It was now or never.

Natasha pushed herself off the wall, and she quickly followed you before grabbing your hand.

You snapped your head to find the redheaded assassin looking at you with an angry and jealous expression.

"Nat-?" You stuttered, feeling your legs go weak at your wife's dominant nature.

"Do you want to come home with me?" She practically growled. "Just answer yes or no."

You blushed, your eyes darting around the room and eventually locking with Natasha's green irises.

You didn't understand where any of this had come from, one moment you were walking home alone and now you were being held by the wrist by the woman of your dreams.

"Yes-" You blurted without thinking, your libido and heart acting before your brain could even process the situation.

Natasha gripped your hand, storming out towards her car faster than she thought her legs would carry her just to be with a person. She'd only moved this quickly to either carry out a mission or to train, never for a person she wanted to be with. No, the feared Black Widow never chased after anyone. But tonight that had changed.

She practically threw you into the passenger's seat of her car, buckling your seatbelt for you before making a beeline for her own spot in the car.

You sat there in shock as Natasha started the engine before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Natasha...what is this?" You asked, pressing your thighs together as a sense of arousal coursed through your body.

"Малышка...I'm in love with you. I can't stand this marriage not being anything more than tax benefits. I want you. I need you." Her hand found its way to your thigh, her palm and digits can eerily close to where you needed her most.

"Natasha..." You repeated her name like a prayer. "I need you too...I can't handle this. Since I took care of you that day, I needed you. Either to kiss my lips or fuck me senseless, I've needed you for too long,"

Natasha's grip on your thigh tightened, and a small moan escaped your lips as her digits snaked closer and closer to your achy and needy pussy.

"Keep talking like that, Ангел, and I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to utter anything but my name and your beautiful moans," The redhead kept one hand on the steering wheel, practically glaring at the road ahead.

"Maybe I want that..." Your hand overlaps the one on your thigh, and you move Natasha's hand to cup your heated sex, allowing a moan to escape both your lips and Natasha's.

"What are you comfortable with? I want you to enjoy this as much as I do," She said, her voice husky from her heightened libido.

"I want you to do whatever you want, I love anything minus ass stuff, choke me, spank me, do whatever, I just need you,"

The assassin rolled her head back.

"God damn it Ангел..." She groaned, and even in the darkness, you noticed a small bulge sticking out of her pants, *she was hard*.

You knew she had a cock, you'd heard her mention it during her discussion with you about her life in the red room. But God you didn't know it was that big.

"Nat...you're hard-" You blurted, as if you hadn't just said the most obvious thing in the world.

"I know, принцесса," Natasha maneuvered your hand to place it on her cock, her Russian accent bleeding through her words the more and more worked up she got. "Look what you do to me, моя маленькая шлюшка,"

Her husky and slightly strained voice only made your pussy all the more soaked, and you shuddered at the feeling of her rock hard cock under your palm and her clothes.

"I-I..." You faltered, unable to say anything at all as you kept your hand virtual glued to her cock.

"We're almost home, no one else will be there, so I wanna hear your moans get as loud as possible. I want to hear every noise your beautiful voice makes," Natasha groaned, rutting her hard cock against the palm of your hand.

"Yes Nat..." You whimpered, squirming in your seat while your achy pussy sat in its own arousal.

"Good girl," She breathed, finally pulling into the tower's parking lot before unbuckling you and scooping your body up into her arms as if you weighed no more than a feather to her.

She carried you to her room in the compound, throwing you onto her king sized bed that laid somewhat prominent in her bedroom.

"Natasha," You repeated her name for the umpteenth time that night, your brain seemingly already fried enough so that you couldn't say anything but her name despite her having barely even touched you. "Please...take me,"

The assassin unzipped her pants, allowing for her cock to finally be released from the constraints that left both of you frustrated.

You groaned at the sight of her dick as she pulled down her pants along with her underwear, leaving her with an obviously erect eight and a half inch cock in her hand.

She looked over at you, eventually leaning down and sliding off your dress with skilled fingers. The pink fabric was tossed on the floor alongside her bottom garments, leaving you in just your underwear.

"God you know...I've wanted this for so long, to feel like we were actually married. To feel like you're actually mine..." She smashed her lips into yours, her hand finding its way around your neck and squeezing just enough at the sides to make your pussy clench around nothing.

You moaned at the rough treatment your neck was enduring, and your legs remained shaky as Natasha positioned herself between them.

She left hickeys across the sensitive flesh on your neck, moans escaping you every time she released your skin from the grip of her lips.

"You know, I've had my hand stroking my cock for months, wondering how tight this little pussy would be just for me-" Natasha bit down on your neck, slapping your wet and achy pussy to emphasize your statement.

"Oh God-!" You cried out at the spanking on your sore cunt.

Natasha virtually ripped off your lacy white underwear, and followed along with your bra, releasing your tits from the cage that had been restricting her from the sight of your soft breasts for the whole night.

"Do you want this?" She asked, lifting her mouth up from your soft and supple skin that had been littered with blemishes to look straight in your eyes.

"Yes- I want this..." You shuddered under her touch, a small cry stuck in your throat that developed under the constant teasing.

"Y/N, are you sure?" The green-eyed woman looked at you, a sudden but very brief sense of kindness and care flooding over her otherwise angry and horny gaze.

"Yes- Please! Just don't tease any more-! Please Daddy!" You cried, the sinful noise finally escaping your throat as your head rolled back.

You paused right after the moan left your mouth, your eyes widening and your hand immediately slapping over your mouth.

"Oh God- Natasha I'm so-"

Natasha gripped at your throat.

"Don't. Apologize." She growled, pumping her cock with her hand to get it nice and ready for your little cunt. "But if you keep calling me that I will fuck that cunt until you're crying, or do you not want that?"

You looked up at her as she loomed over your body.

"No- I want that..." You panted, your chest slowly rising and falling as the air around you became hotter.

"Give me your safe word," Natasha demanded.

"Red," You replied, your arousal somehow increasing at the kindness your wife showed even in her most turned on state.

"Good girl," She purred, her lips pressing into yours once again, both literally and figuratively taking your breath away.

Natasha grabbed a condom off of her nightstand, ripping the foil and sliding the rubber around her thick and hardened cock.

"Daddy...God you're so big..." Your eyes fell to her cock.

"I know, принцecca," The assassin smirked, leaning down to blow softly on your pussy, the sudden cold chill sending shivers down your spine.

Your skin raised under the cold breath she let out between your thighs, and you gripped at her braid.

"Please- Daddy- Don't tease," You begged, your voice wavering under her denial.

She smirked, licking a single stripe up your wet slit. Natasha clicked her tongue a few times, and she cooed at you.

"Ohhh...I know Малышка, you just *need* Daddy's cock in you, don't you?" She smirked, looking up at you.

You nodded violently.

"Please Daddy! Please just fill me up! I'll be good, please just fill me up!" You cried, the feeling of her tongue on you making your body ache for more.

"Such a good girl, I love hearing you beg," Natasha kissed your lips softly before sliding her dick between your folds, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

You moaned at the feeling of her rubbing your clit, but your moan only became louder as she pushed herself inside of you, the tip of her dick rubbing right up against your G-spot.

"Fuck-! Daddy-!!" You moaned, gripping at the sheets below as her cock slipped in and out of your cunt.

You gripped at her hair, your fingers finding their way through her tightly braided locks.

Natasha grunted as she rutted in and out of your tight pussy.

“Damn it Малышка, I never thought you'd be this wet for me…you're beautiful…your hair spread out like this, your pretty pussy clenching around my cock…” She panted, slamming her hips into yours, the sounds of sex filling the environment around you.

Sweat drilled down your face, and your hands quickly made their way to the redhead’s shirt, unbuttoning it and pulling her bra off with the other fabric.

You leaned in, pulling her close as you kissed down her neck, the only thing interrupting your movements being the cries and moans that left your lips.

“Please, please. Oh God!” You groaned against her.

“I know slut, it feels good doesn't it? Doesn't it feel so good? Fucking christ-” Natasha moaned, her orgasm creeping up on her body as her movements got more and more erratic the closer she got to finishing.

“Daddy…I'm gonna come! Please! I'm gonna come! Please let me cum! I've been such a good girl for you! Please!!” You kissed her passionately, your fingers digging into her skin for any sense of support.

Natasha groaned.

“Me too, come with me принцecca,” Natasha gripped your throat, leaving somewhat visible handprints on your flesh. “Боже мой!! Черт возьми, принцесса! Ты мне нужен! Дерьмо! Ебать!!” She slammed her hips into you, her cum coating the inside of the condom as she finished.

“Fuck! Fuck! Daddy!!” You moaned simultaneously, your orgasm washing over you as you fell back into the bed.

Natasha groaned, barely holding herself up by her arms, just as exhausted as you.

The assassin slowly pulled out of you, kissing your forehead as you whimpered from the empty feeling in your pussy.

“C'mere beautiful,” She laid down next to you, sliding off her cum filled condom and throwing it in the trash before pulling you into her arms.

“…I love you, Natasha…” You muttered against her neck, burying yourself in her scent as your naked bodies intertwined.

Natasha smiled gently, running her hands through your messy hair, her fingers tangling in your locks.

“I love you too, Y/N,” She murmured into your hair, taking in the scent of your shampoo and using it as a lifeline and a reminder that this truly was real.

“Can we try this marriage for real this time?” You looked up at her, your hand falling to hers and tangling your fingers together.

“Of course we can…I've been waiting to ask you that for so long now…” She laughed softly, kissing you softly on the lips.

You kissed her back, sharing the first of many kisses of your marriage, but this time the marriage was finally real and not just for convenience.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

[supershot73199]

Ok I'm back with another dcxdp overprotective Danny fic/prompt. No specific ship for this one.

Though Barbara is there this time.

Barbara couldn't help but smile as she looked at all the little kids in the library doing arts and crafts. She loved seeing all the kids different art projects though if she had to be honest she had a favorite little artist.

"Ms Barbara look look! I drew the Signal he looked so cool on his motorcycle!"

Speak of the devil, the little girl proudly running up to show of her art was named Dawn Nightingale a precious four year old who had mistaken Barbara for her Auntie Jazz the first time they met. (Not that Barbara blamed her she had seen a picture of the girls Aunt and they looked almost identical.)

"That looks wonderful why don't you go pin it to the art wall by the door so everyone can see it?" Barbara said as she looked at the surprisingly well done drawing.

As the four year old ran to do so with a cheer Barbara took a quick look over at the girls father, Danny Nightingale was a single father who from what conversations Barbara had with him had his daughter thrust upon him as a teen and was forced to leave home because of prejudiced parents. Despite this he was a natural father and was doing well to care for her even going so far as to be enrolled in engineering courses at Gotham U even while working full time to support his kid.

The single father was helping some of the younger kids while ignoring the single mothers trying to flirt with him with either practiced grace, or density befitting a black hole.

Before she could go to scare off the more persistent women (for Christs sake some of these women were over a decade older than him) there was a sudden bang as the doors to the library burst open revealed the Joker in all his pasty faced glory.

"Well well what fun! A group art project! It's a good thing I was in the area because now you kiddos get to help with Uncle Jokers art. C'mere brat."

Barbara had hit the panic button on her wheelchair the moment the Joker came through the door but she is not too proud to admit that she froze the moment he reached out and grabbed Dawn who had still been near the door hanging up her picture.

She could see the fear on the child she considered an honorary niece and found it hard to listen to what the demented clown was saying. Not that it mattered as before the Joker finished demanding the library patrons do what he said or else he was suddenly stepping back from the heavy blow that an enraged Danny had dealt.

The Joker having let go of Dawn, who ran to Barbara as soon as she was free, could not even seem to muster a defense as Danny beat him right out the door. Every weapon or gag he tried to pull out was either knocked aside or grabbed and used on him. The last thing Barbara saw before the door swung shut was Danny taking the flag gun the Joker tried to pull out and breaking it on the Jokers face.

With her arms now full of crying toddler Barbara did her best to comfort her and just as soon as she managed to calm her the door opening made her look up only to see Danny walking back in.

"Daddy!" The ballistic missile shaped like a toddler leapt into her fathers arms as he held her close.

"It's OK. It's all good. Daddy won't ever let anyone hurt you OK? There isn't anything in this world or the next that will keep me from you."

Barbara turned from the heartwarming display but only because she heard the door opening again thankfully this time it was Signal walking in Barbara figured he must have already secured the Joker since he didn't seem to be in a rush.

"Hey is everyone OK in here? Any injuries? No ok then I'm going to ask you all to stay in here and stay calm until the GCPD can take statements and get done scraping the Joker off the curb." The nervous undercurrent to Dukes voice should have clued Barbara that something was different but then that last statement hit her. Danny must have knocked the Joker out before coming back inside.

Speaking of Danny he was walking over with a Dawn who had fallen asleep in his arms after crying herself out.

"Hey I wanted to thank you for comforting Dawn. This situation was not something she should have been exposed to and I'm glad that she had someone trustworthy nearby to go to. And I am sorry buy I need to ask you one more favor... do you think you could watch Dawn until my sister gets off work if the cops detain me?"

Barbara couldn't help but double take at that.

"I don't mind but I doubt that will happen." She assured.

"Maybe but I did just stain the street with Jokers brain matter. So it's definitely a non zero chance."

Barbara couldn't help it, she was dumbfounded clearly she was mishearing.

"I'm sorry I must be hearing things, it sounded like you said you killed the Joker."

"Yeah I did. I won't let anyone hurt my family especially not that Steven King reject."

The next couple hours passed in a haze of reassuring parents and answering questions from the police for Barbara.

Thankfully Danny was not detained and was allowed to take Dawn home. Though he did ask Detective Bullock if he needed to be worried about and charges being pressed.

"Haha kid your more likely to get a medal or a holiday for this. Everyone has been hurt by that clown in some way.

Later when she was finally able to get the the clock tower she was unsurprised to find Jason waiting for her there. Clearly he had the same idea that she had, that is using her camera outside the library so that she could see what happened for closure.

The pair watched as this young man beat the Joker back at a different angle than when she saw it earlier that day. But shortly after the door shut she saw it happen so fast a trip over the step with Joker having the wind knocked out of him throwing a loose piece of concrete at the single father who caught it and the proceeded to bash the failed jester until he was unrecognizable.

Jason was the first to break the silence.

"I'm going to need a copy of that video and I suggest you make another one to give to Harley at your next girls night with the sirens."

"Deal but only if you get Alfred to help me cook him thank you meal."

[zalayni]

𓂃 💫 ੭ ᝢ SUGAR ༉

spendin' all my nights alone waiting for you to call me. you're the only one I want by my side when I fall asleep 💤

❛ pairing: earth42!miles x reader

❛ summary: after a long day there's nothing better than having your lover help you as you do your night time routine, no matter how girly it might be.

❛ warnings: the lower caps are intended. reader uses she/her pronouns.

❛ author's note: this is supposed to be longer but I lost everything and had to restart it from scratch. also this isn't proofread what so ever. I live like a warrior i'll die like a warrior 🫡🫡(I'm too lazy to read alat)

if anybody told Miles from when he was new to being prowler that he would be sitting in his room, wiping a girls makeup off specifically HIS girls makeup off he'd just tell them. “man you're buggin.”

yet here he was.

after a long day of standing around with music blasting in your ear while people laughed in the background you were finally back alone with Miles. it was silent but at the same time it was comforting. Miles was there kneeling infront of you, wiping your makeup off as you sat on the vanity chair he had bought and installed in his room along with the hello kitty mirror he saw people hyping up on tiktok.

don't get it mixed up though Miles would never use that vanity, he bought it for you. he filled up the drawers with makeup and products he'd see you use just for you. he did all of this because all he wished was for you to feel at home with him.

he went through the hard work of building and putting up the parts by himself as he was too embarrassed to ask uncle aaron or his mom for help. what would uncle aaron say if miles would randomly come in his home saying “help me build this pretty pink and white vanity I just bought.”

you always crashed at his place or miles would crash at yours. either way he always insisted on helping you with your nightly routine.

"all done Mami, now go wash up. I'll get your pajamas from the laundry." Miles attempted to get up before getting stopped by your hands pulling him down to peck his cheek. you pulled away while muttering a thank you.

Miles smirked at you while getting up.

"yeah, no problem. anything for my girl."

miles was the sweetest person to ever come into your life. who knew Brooklyn's number one killer would be such a lover boy? maybe it's because of the fact that he's always been a mamas boy growing up.

you finished up your shower, wrapping the towel around your body before a knock echoed through the bathroom. "ma, can I come in? I've got your pajamas." you quickly opened the door to see Miles standing there with your pink pajama set in his hands.

he stared at your figure watching as water droplets still slowly rolled down your body.

"Morales you're staring at me." you playfully said while side eyeing before taking the clothes out of his hands. Miles huffed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer silencing your giggles with a kiss.

"whatever ma you're trippin' I wasn't even staring you're just reading into it too much. even if I was can you blame me? I bagged such a pretty girlfriend."

Miles eyed you down once again before leaning close to your ear. "maybe even future wife."

ugh what a tease. yet everytime he did this you felt butterflies in your stomach.

he chuckled before exiting the bathroom leaving you there staring at his back, stunned. you shook it off with a laugh and got dressed so you could be back in his arms.

you brushed your teeth and did your skincare that Miles would always restock on. you felt bad as they were pricey but he would always insist on buying them for you.

you hanged the towel on the rack to dry and exited the bathroom, practically speed walking to Miles room. once you opened the door you were met with Miles laying comfortably on his bed with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants on. He had his arms up with his phone in his hands scrolling on whatever socials he was checking up on.

you closed his bedroom door before crawling in between his arms, laying your head on his chest. Miles sighed and put down his phone, wrapping his arms around you. He pecked the top of your head making you look up at him. "long day?" you asked him making miles suck his teeth.

"tch. ma you were there with me, yes the function was fun but of course my mom had to make us stay till past midnight talking about some ‘hold on we'll leave after I'm done talking.’" you laughed at him mimicking his mom's voice whole repeating what she would keep saying during the function.

mrs morales loved you so she told Miles to invite you to their family's function as his date which you gladly said yes to.

the day was long and your feet might've ached from all the standing as every seat was taken up, your stomach might've hurt from all the aunties insisting on you to eat more but at the end of day you got to see Miles smile, and it wasn't because of you. for some that was the rarest sight to witness.

after the death of his dad Miles drifted away from everyone but here he was laughing and bickering with his favourite cousins. he was actually playing his favorite sport, basketball for once and laughing whenever he'd steal the ball from his cousins.

you witnessed Miles grow as a person and slowly pick up broken pieces. it was truly heart warming.

here you laid in the dead of night, ear on Miles chest hearing his soft heartbeat with your eyes closed. you were calm yet your head was racing with thoughts. you decided to break the silence after awhile of listening to his breathing pattern and heartbeats. "hey Miles, I'm not sure if you're asleep but I have a question."

it was silent for awhile making you think Miles fell asleep before you could ask it but then he answered. "go ahead Mami, I'm listening."

"would you give the world to me?" you looked up at him only to see his half lidded eyes staring down at you. "mhmm no."

your heart dropped at his answer, lips close to quivering, but the hard beating of your heart slamming against your chest was calmed down with what you heard him say afterwards.

"hermosa, why would I do that when there's other planets too?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

please do not steal, copy, translate or put my work on any other apps. thank you for reading 🫶

artwork in header made by koscribbls on instagram

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 2

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, low Self-Esteem, Cassian is kinda an idiot, mention of murder, mention of stabbing and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“It’s open!” Eira called out as she heard the knock, her eyes flicking towards the door.

The shadows had just finished playing with her hair, their efforts resulting in an intricately braided updo that she had absolutely no idea how to replicate properly. She wondered who exactly had let the shadows play hairstylist for long enough that they had learned how to pin her hair in increasingly complicated updos, whenever she let them. 

For some reason, Eira had the feeling that it amused them for some unknown reason. And they liked doing it. At night, when she couldn’t sleep, they kept playing with her hair, lulling her to sleep…when she was awake, they braided and rebraided it as often as they possibly could get away with it. And tonight, they had tried two different hairstyles, before finally deciding that this one was the one. Now, they were just finished scattering some blooming Asters through her hair, the purple-blue colour matching a dress that had suddenly been in her closet. 

It was all…very much like a fairytale. 

“Hey,” Feyre said as she entered her room. “Are you ready for dinner?” 

"I am pretty sure the shadows keep stealing your dresses for me," Eira said drily, as she nodded. Feyre blinked twice, taking in the dress that the shadows had trussed Eira into. It was beautiful. A dark bluish purple, with spiderweb-thin lace that covered her arms and heavy silk that fell to the floor.

"That's not mine," Feyre answered with a laugh. "It's gorgeous, but definitely not mine.”

Eira stared at the dress, then to the shadows that quickly flitted through the open door away from her. She just sighed, while Feyre giggled.  "They do seem to be surprisingly delighted at treating you as their lifesize doll," her sister quipped. 

Eira just shrugged. "Well, at least they have good taste," she said with a grin making Feyre laugh aloud.

"Maybe they are just happy that they finally get somebody to dress up. Azriel wears his leathers nearly exclusively after all,” Feyre quipped. 

Eira chuckled at Feyre’s words, thinking of Azriel’s usual attire. It was true, the shadowsinger rarely bothered with anything more formal than his leathers. She turned her attention back to the dress, running her fingers over the lacework of the sleeves. "It’s beautiful," she said quietly, admiring the fabric. "But it’s a bit much, isn't it?"

Feyre rolled her eyes at her words. "It’s not, Eira," she said, her tone slightly exasperated. "Besides, I think a certain shadowsinger may appreciate the effort," she added with a wink.

Eira's cheeks flamed. Maybe...maybe that was the reason why she hadn't protested the shadows and their insistence on dressing her up. Maybe that was why she hadn't protested that dress or the updo...or even the lipstick they had very carefully applied.

Eira had initially assumed that the shadows just enjoyed playing dress up, that they derived some sort of twisted amusement from seeing her in fancy dresses and elaborate hairstyles. But, now that Feyre had brought up a certain Shadowsinger... Perhaps the shadows had a more specific reason for their interest in dolling her up...

"Come on, I want to see if you manage to make Azriel's jaw hit the floor," Feyre quipped.

Eira’s heart skipped a beat at Feyre's words, heat rising to her cheeks. She knew it was silly, knew that she shouldn’t get her hopes up. But the thought of seeing Azriel’s reaction to her wearing that beautiful dress...it made her stomach flutter with something. 

They had agreed to a courtship but she...she knew that for him the mating bond trumped anything. 

That's why he even considered it in the first place, why he was willing to go along with it.

It was...It was something she liked to push out of her mind in a way because she would rather just...enjoy the possibility of having him. Something that she hadn't thought she ever would have. She never thought that she would have a chance.

For just a moment her mind replayed Elain’s vision…They had looked so happy in that vision…had looked so…in love. 

So did it really matter why he wanted to court her? If they could build that? The image that had plagued her since the day of the vision flitted through her mind, the image of a daughter that they could perhaps someday have together.

And yet, something twisted in her gut, a pang of doubt creeping into her heart.

Wasn’t she only asking for heartache? Shouldn’t she not get her hopes up too high, shouldn’t she stop herself from building up too many fantasies in her head?

But she had never been good at telling her heart no. It had always been too hopeful...a bit foolish.

And the thought of Azriel seeing her...of seeing his reaction to her in this gorgeous dress, with her hair pinned up...it sent a thrill of excitement through her veins. 

So she followed along with Feyre towards the dining room, her heart beating fast in her chest. Just a family dinner...just like they had had so many. Granted most of the time she had sat at the edges and had then rambled to Azriel about everything and nothing but...

This dinner would be the same as all the others, she told herself, just like every other one they had shared in the past...the only difference was that this time, she was dolled up in a fancy dress and an elaborate hairdo courtesy of the shadows.

And the fact that she had agreed to let him court her. The human way.

Well, in the way Azriel probably thought was human. She highly doubted that it would pass as courting for any gentleman, but she didn't care about that. She really didn’t care. She would sit through whatever he wanted if he had the chance of…the chance of having him. 

It was so sweet that he was even willing to entertain her like that. He could have just as easily never even thought about it...could have just as easily refused to do anything human because he wasn't human. He was Illyrian...even when she sometimes wondered what Azriel would call himself if she asked. He seemed to have no love for Illyrian customs, much differently than either Rhys or Cassian.

Eira pondered that as they walked. She knew how much Azriel disliked the Illyrian culture, how much disdain he had for some of their archaic traditions, their backward ideologies. 

And yet, he indulged her, willing to do it the human way even though he wasn’t human. It filled her heart with a strange sensation, a kind of warm affection.

It was...endearing, in a way. Sweet, in fact. That he would take the time and effort, simply to let her have a taste of that kind of romance. 

But all of that was nothing against the way her stomach fluttered as she spied him in the dining room, deep in conversation with Cassian and Rhys...Wings carefully tucked behind his shoulders so that she couldn't see the full, massive span of them...couldn't see their majestic beauty. 

And then his hazel eyes looked up and for just a moment it felt like it was just the two of them, everybody else forgotten.

Eira's breath caught in her throat when Azriel looked up and their eyes met.

For a brief moment, everything else around them disappeared, the world slipping away in a rush of colour and sound. It was like the world faded away, leaving just the two of them staring at each other.

She saw the surprise in his eyes, the flicker of shock before his gaze flicked over her figure, taking in her dress, and her hair.

Something flickered in his gaze, something she couldn’t quite place. His stare was intense, and heat rose in her cheeks as his eyes traced over the lace of her sleeves, the shape of her waist, the way the silk hugged her skin. It was...overwhelming, almost, having his attention so completely on her. 

Overwhelming and addictive. 

Eira's heart leapt in her chest, her cheeks flushing under his gaze. She was suddenly very aware of the way the fabric of her dress glided against her skin, how it clung to her figure.

"Damn," Cassian drawled. Cassian's voice jarred Eira out of the moment, breaking the strange spell that had seemed to fall over her and Azriel.

She jerked her head in Cassian's direction, finding him staring at her with an appreciative grin. "Someone's looking very nice tonight," Cassian drawled, his gaze roaming over her dressed figure.

Eira could feel her cheeks flushing even more under his gaze, the heat of them spreading across her chest and neck, embarrassment settling. She knew that dress had been too much, she shouldn’t have…

And then she heard that growl. Eira's eyes widened at the sound of Azriel's growl, the feral sound making her shiver. She watched, slightly stunned, as he shot Cassian a glare that should have set the other male on fire on the spot.

Cassian just smirked at his brother's reaction, his grin widening with smug satisfaction.

"What's wrong, Az," he drawled a hint of amusement in his voice. "Didn't like me looking at your lady?"

Azriel's eyes narrowed further, the muscles in his jaw tensing. He took a step forward, his wings flaring, as if to shield Eira from Cassian's gaze.

"Enough, you two," Rhys said with a sigh. "Cassian, if he kills you, that's on you. You know exactly how that mating bond feels to him right now."

Cassian just chuckled at Rhys' words, his eyes still sparkling with mirth. "Oh, I know," he drawled. Rhys just rolled his eyes at that, his expression exasperated.

Azriel's wings flared a little further, the movement enough to distract Eira's attention back to him. His eyes were still fixed on Cassian, a silent warning in his gaze.

Eira's heart skipped a beat as she took in the expression on his face, the protectiveness that had taken over his features. But she could also see the other, lurking underneath that protective surface. There was a hint of possessiveness, a hint of something much more primal and instinctual. The sight was enough to send another shiver down her spine.

"You do look very pretty, Eira," Cassian said, his voice growing serious and she couldn't help but stare at him. What? She hadn't expected the compliment, especially not after the way he had been riling Azriel only a moment before.

"Thanks," she responded after a moment, her voice quiet.

Nesta just snorted. "Wrong sister," she told her mate drily. "You are supposed to tell me how pretty I am," she pointed out, making Eira laugh.

"You are gorgeous," Eira told her oldest sister, making Nesta snort, her grey eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Did you make the dress?" Nesta asked as they found their seats, Azriel pulling out the chair for her without a word,

Eira smiled as she took her seat, Azriel's hand on the small of her back sending a strange sensation through her body. She watched as he sat down to her right, his wing slightly flared to block Cassian from her line of sight.

She looked back to Nesta, her cheeks still flushed from Azriel's touch.

"No," she answered, a smile on her lips. "The shadows…the shadows picked it out for me."

Nesta raised an eyebrow at her words, her gaze flickering from the dress to Azriel, who was still shooting warning glances in Cassian's direction.

Rhys and Feyre were also exchanging knowing looks, clearly amused by the shadow's involvement.

"They have good taste," Feyre quipped, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

Azriel's wing twitched, his glare deepening. "Don’t give them ideas," he said gruffly.

Feyre just laughed at that, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Oh, I think they already have plenty of ideas, Az," she said with a smile. Azriel just grumbled under his breath, his eyes flickering to Eira for a moment before looking back to Feyre.

Eira couldn't help the flush that spread over her cheeks as Azriel's gaze flicked over her again. She could feel the heat of it like a brand, making her skin tingle and her heart flutter.

The shadows that had gotten her ready for the night whispered in her ear, their voices too soft for the others to hear. 

He likes it.

Eira barely resisted the urge to shiver at the whisper, Azriel's gaze still on her, his eyes locked on her face. She could see the possessiveness in his gaze, the way he was looking at her as if she were something he wanted to keep all for himself. The shadows' voices purred again.

He thinks you're beautiful.

Eira's heart fluttered at the words, her stomach twisting with a strange sense of...giddiness. She knew it was silly, foolish even, but that possessive gleam in his eyes made her feel...wanted, desired. She couldn't help but smile as the shadows continued to whisper in her ear, their voices soft and sly.

He can't take his eyes off you.

"Would you stop it?" Azriel growled at that moment and she looked up to find the shadows having wrapped themselves around their master, the tendrils of darkness twining around his arms and shoulders.

The sight was both eerie and beautiful, the shadows moving like dark, writhing serpents over his skin. Azriel's eyes flared with irritation as he tried to bat the shadows away, but they seemed to only cling tighter, almost as if they were taunting him.

Rhys and Feyre were watching the scene with amused expressions, clearly enjoying Azriel’s frustration. They really did like to rile him up, it seemed.

Cassian, on the other hand, was grinning like a fool, clearly enjoying the display.

"You just can't keep the shadows in check, can you, shadowsinger?" Cassian drawled, a smirk on his lips. Azriel just growled in response, his eyes narrowing as he shot a glare at the other male across the table. Rhys chuckled at the scene, clearly finding the whole thing amusing.

"It seems like they have a mind of their own," he mused, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Feyre just snorted, her lips curving into a smirk as she watched the shadows continue their dance around Azriel. Eira couldn't help but laugh as well, the sight of the shadows wrapping around Azriel's form while he sat there looking annoyed was truly hilarious.

The shadows were clearly enjoying themselves, their tendrils moving almost playfully over his broad shoulders and strong arms. Eira watched as Azriel seemed to give in to the shadows' antics, his shoulders relaxing and his expression softening. The shadows still coiled around his arms like snakes, the tendrils of darkness wrapping around his wrists and up his forearms.

He seemed resigned now, his eyes flickering to her for a moment before looking back to the shadows.

"You look beautiful, Eira. The colour suits you," he said quietly, his cheeks reddening.

She could have sworn her heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth spreading through her chest at Azriel's words. She could feel her cheeks flushing even more as he complimented her, her heart fluttering against her ribs.

He liked it? 

Azriel let out a huff of irritation as one of the shadows extended a tendril to poke his cheek, his lips pressing into a frown.

He reached up a hand to brush the shadow away, but it just twined around his fingers instead.

The shadow seemed almost...playful, the way it wove between his fingers, the touch surprisingly gentle. "Stop it," Azriel murmured under his breath, his eyes narrowing at the shadow.

But the shadow just continued to wind itself around his fingers, almost like a cat begging for attention. Eira couldn't help but grin at the sight, the shadow's antics adorable, even if they were clearly bothering Azriel.

"I don't think they are going to stop until I give in," Azriel finally said with a sigh. Eira chuckled as Azriel finally spoke up, the shadows clearly intent on getting his attention. "I was going to wait until after dessert," Azriel said quietly, "But they seem to have a mind on their own...so…” he hesitated for a moment. “I apologise. I learned that I did it wrong."

She stared at him, her heart plummeting. 

That he did what wrong? Why was he apologising to her? What was… "What did you do wrong?" Eira asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Azriel's cheeks flushed again as he looked at her, the shadows still clinging to his fingers. He took a deep breath before speaking, his eyes never leaving hers. He took a deep breath before speaking, his eyes never leaving hers. "I...I should have given you a gift when I made my first courting overture," he said quietly, his voice gruff with embarrassment. “I am sorry. While I did not know, that is not an excuse for my behaviour.” 

Eira's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes widening. She hadn’t expected him to give her a gift, let alone bring it up now.

"You don't need to give me a gift," she protested immediately.

Yes, it was true that...that should have been something that happened. But then, if she was still the daughter of a wealthy merchant, she probably would have met her future husband at a ball and there would have been weeks of flowers and pralines before he asked her to court...and a courtship already was fully expected as a prelude to a formal engagement. By the time a man would have asked her to court, he should have already made his mind up if she was the woman he intended to marry.

Eira's mind flickered to the memory of Elain's courtship with Grayson, the wealthy heir sending her gifts for weeks before officially courting her. And the number of gifts and the extravagance increased tenfold when he requested her hand.

She had never expected Azriel to do anything of that sort.

But the fact that Azriel seemed ashamed... that the shadows were so insistent that he followed the proper courting practices...it made something in her chest warm, the feeling almost like a fuzzy, pleasant burn.

She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips. "You didn’t have to get me a gift," she repeated, her voice soft.

Azriel just shook his head, a stubborn frown on his face. “I did,” he said firmly, his eyes locked on hers. “It's part of the tradition, part of your culture.”

Eira felt her heart skip a beat at Azriel's words, his firm tone making something flutter in her stomach. He was taking this seriously, that much was clear. She could see the determination in his eyes, the shadows still coiled around his fingers as if to remind him of his task.

"Alright," she said softly, her gaze locked with his. "You...you really want to follow proper courtship etiquette?" She asked, her voice almost tentative.

"He got like 10 books on it," Cassian said with a snort.

Eira's eyes widened as she heard Cassian's comment, her gaze shifting to him for a moment before returning to Azriel.

"You...you researched this?" She asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

Azriel just grumbled under his breath, his cheeks reddening even more. "The shadows found me books in the Human Lands.," he muttered, his eyes flickering to the tendrils of darkness still wrapped around his fingers.

But it was Nesta's laugh, a high tinkling sound, her older sister winking at her. "Bring out the goods, Az. I want to know what you ended up choosing."

Eira's heart fluttered in her chest as Nesta spoke, her words sending a strange mixture of anticipation and...giddiness through her.

Eira looked to Azriel, whose cheeks continued to redden under the attention, his wings shifting behind him. The shadows around his fingers seemed almost...encouraging, the tendrils coiling and uncoiling like they were urging him to hurry.

“Let me get it.” Eira's heart seemed to skip a beat as Azriel finally spoke, his voice deep and gruff. He extricated his fingers from the shadow's grasp, the tendrils retracting like they had only been waiting for that particular permission.

Azriel stood from the table, pushing his chair back, and Eira found herself holding her breath.

Azriel crossed the dining room in a few quick strides, his wings flared out behind him as if in excitement. Eira's eyes followed him, her heart still fluttering in her chest.

The other occupants of the room remained silent, their eyes following the shadowsinger as he made his way into the next room.

A moment later, he reappeared, carrying...something.

A harp.

Eira's eyes widened as she saw the harp in Azriel's hands, her heart skipping another beat in her chest.

It was...beautiful, the strings gleaming in the light from the candelabras. The wood was polished to a fine shine, each curve and line of detail flawless.

She could just stare at it.

The sight of it brought back memories from her childhood when she had started learning the harp. When she had dreamed of playing for a court, of  learning every single song there was...when she had...She had one then...a gift from her father...a beautiful gilded one, made out of light wood. It had been smaller than that one, with fewer strings than the 47 she expected this one to possess. This was the kind of harp professional used in an orchestra setting...the kind of harp she had always dreamed of.

Her harp had been sold off along the rest of their possession to keep their money troubles at bay back in the day...and somehow it had been...it had been the worst loss. Somehow the house and her clothing and any jewellery...that hadn't mattered to her as much as the harp.

"Nesta said you used to play," Azriel said quietly, his voice unsure, as he placed it in front other, carefully. Eira's eyes snapped up to meet Azriel's, her heart still fluttering in her chest.

She took in the expression on his face, the uncertainty and the shyness that had replaced his usual confidence. She could see the...the hope in his eyes, mixed with a hint of anxiety as he waited for her response. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she looked at him.

"I...I used to," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her fingers itched to reach out and take the harp from him, to touch the strings. To hold that instrument in her hands and...to run her fingers over the smooth wood, to feel the coolness of the strings as she plucked them.

The memory of how they felt under her touch, the sound they made when she had been younger and could still play...the memories that rushed through her mind made her heart beat faster in her chest.

"I stopped after...after our father lost our wealth," she continued, her voice softer now. "We had to sell most of our possessions, and...well, harps aren't exactly the most practical thing to keep in your house when you're struggling to buy food."

But now...now Azriel was holding this harp out to her. Holding this most wonderful, most beautiful thing...this thing she had lost, this thing she never thought she would hold again.

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at the harp, her mouth going dry. "You-" Eira's words caught in her throat as she met Azriel's gaze again, the tears in her eyes making his face blurry. "You...you got this for me?" She managed to whisper out.

"It's not a human one," he warned her quietly. "You would probably break it without meaning to...it wouldn't withstand your strength. This ones is fae-made. Made out of Ebony. Your magic will interact with the instrument and...the sound should be even more beautiful."

"It's beautiful," she repeated, her voice soft with emotion.

She reached out an unsteady hand to brush the harp, her fingers tracing over the smooth ebony wood. She could feel the hum of magic under her fingertips, the power contained in the instrument, the magic that was just waiting to be released.

She looked up at Azriel, tears still shimmering in her eyes. "You-" her voice broke for a second before she tried again. "You did all this...this is your courting gift?"

Azriel's cheeks reddened even more at her question, the tips of his ears turning pink. He nodded once, his eyes fixed on her face, his expression almost hopeful. "Yes," he said quietly. "It is."

Eira's heart skipped another beat, the tears pooling in her eyes finally spilling over.

She looked back down at the harp, her fingers still tracing over the smooth wood, her lips trembling. This was...this was the most beautiful gift she had ever received, it was...it was more than she had ever expected, more than she had ever hoped for.

And Azriel had gone through all that trouble, researched her culture and the proper courtship rituals, had found this harp...for her.

She took a trembling breath, desperately trying to contain the swell of emotions in her chest, the tears now falling down her cheeks.

She looked back up at Azriel, meeting his gaze once again, her heart thudding loudly in her chest.

She opened her mouth to speak, to try and say something, a thank you, a...a declaration, anything. But the words stuck in her throat.

Azriel just stood there, watching as she tried to speak, the expression on his face unreadable. The worry in his eyes was unmistakable, as if he wasn't sure how she would react.

The room was quiet, the other occupants of the room watching the scene with rapt attention. Even the shadows seemed unusually still, their usual playfulness and mischief replaced by a strange kind of tension.

Eira took another shuddering breath, trying to collect herself. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, her heart still hammering in her chest.

She looked at the harp again, taking in every detail of the instrument. The smooth wood, the perfectly tuned strings, the magic contained within. The sheer...beauty of it, the thoughtfulness and care that had gone into choosing it.

It was a beautiful harp. A truly perfect gift.

"It's...it's perfect," she finally managed to whisper, her voice raw with emotion.

Azriel's shoulders relaxed slightly, the worry in his eyes diminishing a little. "You...you like it, then?" He asked quietly, his voice tense with anxiety.

"Like it?" Eira repeated, her voice almost indignant. "Like it? I...Azriel, it's the most beautiful, most perfect gift I've ever received."

She rose, her knees shaky, taking a step forward, the tears still trickling down her cheeks.

"It...it's perfect," she repeated, her voice cracking once again. "And you...you learned about the proper courtship rituals, you...you researched my culture," she continued, her voice soft and shaky. "You did all this...for me."

Eira took another step forward. She took another shuddering breath, her heart beating harder and hard in her chest.

"No one...no one has ever done that before," she whispered, her voice breaking again. "No one has ever put so much thought, so much effort into a gift for me."

Azriel shifted awkwardly, looking as if he were torn between wanting to reach out to her and not knowing if it was the right thing to do.

"You...you're worth it," he finally said, his voice quiet and gruff. "You're...you're worth all the research, the effort...the trouble. You're worth it, Eira."

Eira's heart clenched in her chest at his words, her breath catching in her throat.

No one had ever spoken to her like that, ever made her feel as if they were so certain of her worth. 

She shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't her place to be this forward, wasn't...but still she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss against his cheek, breathing in cedars and mist and Azriel and then pulled back. "Thank you," she whispered."

Azriel's eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks reddening furiously as she kissed his cheek.

He seemed completely taken aback, his wings fluttering slightly in shock. His entire body tensed, as if he suddenly didn't know what to do with himself.

And then, as a moment later, a small, shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "You're welcome," he replied, his voice gravelly and rough.

"So are you gonna play something?" Cassian asked, breaking the silence.

Eira's cheeks flamed bright red as she remembered they weren't alone. She had...she had forgotten the others were there, had allowed herself to get lost in the moment, in the emotions and the...the sheer perfection of Azriel's gift.

She pulled back slightly and looked at Cassian's cheeky smile as he teased.

"Not unless you want to go deaf by my out of practice screeching," she said drily. "I'll need to practice before my playing is anywhere near fit for public consumption."

"Oh, come on," Cassian said with a pout. "It can't possibly be that bad. Let us have a taste of the music you're capable of making."

Nesta smacked his arm with a disapproving glare, but the slight upward curl of her lips made him just grin wider.

"I promise you, it really is that bad," Eira replied, her heart still hammering in her chest. "Trust me, you'll be much happier not having to listen to how horribly rusted my playing has become."

Cassian opened his mouth to response but Nesta's elbow ended in his ribs. "Whenever you are ready," her older sister told her gently.

*****

"You're distracted," Rhys's voice cut through his thoughts, making him snap back to the present. He looked up to see his brother watching him with a smirk and an arched eyebrow.

Azriel huffed a sigh, leaning back in his chair and rubbing a hand over his face.

Of course Rhys would immediately notice. The High Lord had always had an annoyingly sharp eye for his inner circle.

He couldn't help himself though as he stared out of the window. Feyre and Nyx were down in the garden...and he had watched how Eira had joined them a few minutes ago, settling herself comfortably under one of the trees, watching her sister and nephew play.

"I'm not distracted, I'm..." he started to protest, but he knew it was useless. He was distracted, his thoughts had been all over the place the past day, revolving almost entirely around a certain Archeron Sister.

Azriel's mind was still filled with images of the previous night, of the memory of Eira's reaction to the gift he had given.

She had been...he had never seen her so emotional before, so overwhelmed, and...he had caused it. He had made her feel that way.

His mind replayed the memories over and over again, the way she had looked at him, with such wonder and gratitude, how she had...how she had kissed his cheek.

Especially after she had...pressed a kiss to his cheek.

After she had seemed so pleased by his courting gift.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he thought back to that moment, the way she had looked holding the harp, the expression on her face when she had realised what he had done.

His heart fluttered in his chest as he remembered how she had looked at him, how she had seemed to forget they weren't alone for a moment, had pressed her lips against his cheek, so soft, so warm, and had whispered her thanks against his skin.

"You're staring."

Rhys' voice broke through his thoughts, yanking him back to reality and away from the memory of her lips on his cheek, her warmth, her scent.

Azriel realised his gaze was fixed on the window, on Eira outside with Feyre and Nyx.

"I also always have this dreamy expression on my face when I think about Eris Vanserra and the Autumn Court," Cassian said sarcastically.

"Shut up," Azriel said irritably, though with no small amount of truth in his words.

He knew he probably had that 'dreamy' look right now. That hopelessly in love, pining look that Cassian teased him about.

"You are as subtle as a bat," Rhys teased, a smile on his face. "We can all tell she's got you wrapped around her little finger."

Another irritated huff left Azriel, but he didn’t deny it. He was wrapped around her little finger. There was no denying that.

"Though your shadows are worse," Cassian quipped. 

"My shadows are not worse," he protested, but his shadows curled and coiled around his fingers, as if in silent agreement with Cassian.

"They’ve been pining for her too," Rhys chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Have you noticed how often they’re clinging to her?"

"Or how they pick out dresses for her...and braid her hair?" Cassian said with some amusement. “I didn’t even know they could do that!”

"And how they preen whenever she touches them," Rhys added, his voice still full of laughter. "They’re as whipped as you are, brother. If not more."

Azriel huffed another irritated sigh, but he didn’t protest. It was true. His shadows practically worshipped the ground Eira walked on. They clung to her every chance they got, they preened whenever she so much as looked at them. He had absolutely no control over them when they were around her.

"Were where Amren and Mor yesterday?" he asked suddenly instead, trying to change the topic. 

"Well, Amren still thinks she has done nothing wrong," Rhys finally said with a sigh. "And Mor...that's...another thing entirely."

Azriel groaned.

He could imagine what was going on. Amren was stubbornly refusing to apologise for acting the way she had towards Eira, and Mor...he didn't even want to think about it.

"Amren will come around," Rhys assured him. "It will just take some time, some convincing. She's the most stubborn person I know. And Mor..." his expression darkened. "Mor is being difficult."

Azriel huffed another sigh, running a hand over his face.

Of course Mor was being difficult. When was she ever not difficult? He could guess how the conversation had gone between Rhys and her. She probably saw nothing wrong with how she had acted towards Eira either.

"She's jealous," Rhys said with a sigh. Azriel could just stare at him gobsmacked. Rhys shrugged. "She is jealous, Azriel. She's jealous you've found someone, that you're going to court someone else. And she's decided to take it out on Eira."

"That's a damn shitty reason to be this resentful towards someone," Cassian chimed in, leaning back in his chair with a huff. "Especially when we all know that she was never interested in Azriel in the first place."

"Yeah, well, you aren't available to her anymore either," Rhys said drily. "Mor will need some time to...wrap her head around it."

Cassian just grunted, his expression darkening for a moment. It was true. He no longer was available, no longer an option for her. Not that he had ever truly been an option. It had never been anything more than...passing flings.

"Either way, she'll need to stop behaving like this towards Eira," Azriel growled, the thought making his blood boil. "Just because she is upset with me, doesn't mean she gets to take it out on someone innocent."

"That one," Rhys said, raising an eyebrow and pointing towards Eira through the window. She was still outside, now sitting against a tree. Nyx was curled up against her, asleep. Feyre was sitting next to her, drawing something, a lazy, happy smile on her face. Azriel's chest tightened at the sight. “She is more resilient than you think.”

Azriel swallowed past the lump in his throat as he stared at her through the window.

Rhys was right. She was strong. She was so strong. Stronger than she gave herself credit for, even. And her resilience was something he had…always been in awe off. How whatever happened, Eira just seemed to take it in stride, adjusting. 

"I know she is," he said, his voice thick with emotion."But she shouldn’t need to be. I just..." he continued, his gaze still fixed on her through the window. She was laughing about something Feyre had said, her head thrown back, her face lit up with happiness. “I just want to protect her. I want to wrap her up and shield her from everything bad in this world and just…keep her safe.”

"You know you can't do that, right?" Cassian’s voice was quiet, sincere.

Azriel knew he was right. He knew that. He knew he couldn’t protect her from the world, from everything bad in it. That she wouldn’t even want him protecting her all the time.

He knew all that, but still...still the thought of something bad happening to her, still the idea of being unable to protect her…it made his heart ache.

"Welcome to the mating bond," Rhys quipped weakly.

Azriel huffed another irritated sigh.

He knew exactly what he was dealing with. He knew that this...that feeling the need to protect her, to keep her safe at all costs, to wrap her up and shield her from the world...it all came down to the bond, to the instinct.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it. That didn’t mean he had to be content with his hands being tied, with not being able to have control.

It was driving him nuts.

"It gets easier," Cassian promised him. "Just keep in mind, she can hit anybody with lightning."

Yes. If she could control it. 

Which she couldn’t. 

Neither of them had yet broached the topic of training her power with her. Not even to…hone it into a weapon, but only to make sure that Eira didn’t electrocute any innocent bystanders. The problem was only that if they told her that…she would become deathly afraid of her own powers, which would make training them even more difficult. 

And then there was…another matter. "She cries herself to sleep about 4 males that she killed," Azriel said quietly. "I had killed more often than that before I even reached the Blood Rite."

"That’s not the same," Cassian disagreed quietly. "We both know it’s not. You and I are warriors. It’s what we’re supposed to do. Eira is not a fighter. She’s not a warrior. The deaths she caused weigh differently on her, and you know that."

Azriel sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

Cassian was right, of course. The deaths Eira had taken on her conscience…he knew they were different from his or Cassian’s. His own hands were stained a dark red, had been for centuries. They were both warriors, soldiers. They had been conditioned to accept death, to expect and embrace violence. It came with the job. It wasn’t the same for her.

And it worried him. 

"How could the cauldron ever think that I..." 

"The Cauldron has its own reasons," Rhys interrupted, his voice softer now. "We don't always understand its decisions, but it knows what it's doing."

Another sigh left Azriel.

He knew that. He knew the Cauldron was always right, that it knew what it was doing, even if its ways were not always clear. But it didn’t change the fact that he felt unworthy. He felt unworthy of the gift the Cauldron had offered, of a mate at all. Of Eira in particular. 

"I have hundreds of years of blood on my hands," he said, his voice low. "How could the Cauldron pick me for her? How could it think that I am worthy to be her mate?"

“Because you are worthy,” Rhys said softly, his voice almost tender. “More than you give yourself credit for. And because the Cauldron knows things about people that even they themselves don’t know.”

Azriel couldn’t help but scoff softly.

There was no way he was worthy of her. Not in a million years. And it didn’t matter if the Cauldron thought so.

But still, his chest ached as he looked at her, at the smile on her face as she talked with Feyre…Nyx still sleeping in her arms.

Rhys and Cassian were right. He was already wrapped around her little finger.

"You should stay for lunch."

Azriel groaned. He really wanted to, wanted nothing more than to stay for lunch and watch her for just a while longer.

But he couldn’t. The day was already half over, he had work to do.

"I can’t," he told Rhys, the words almost painful to get out of his throat. "I’ve got paperwork to look over, reports to submit, meetings to attend, patrol to"

"Yes yes, we know your schedule," Cassian cut him off with a snort. "And we know that you work yourself to an early grave. You can afford to stay for one more hour or so and have lunch with us. Have lunch with your mate. Aren't you supposed to spend time with her while there are people there to chaperone you?" Cassian wondered. "Isn't that what your books told you?"

Azriel shot him a glare. Cassian only grinned back innocently.

He wasn’t wrong, of course, he was absolutely right.

That was what the courtship was all about, right? He was supposed to show her that he was husband material. That he could provide for her and for any eventual future children.

Azriel shot another look towards the garden, where Eira was still talking with Feyre.

Rhys and Cassian knew they were right, knew that they had him in a corner. He wanted to stay. He wanted nothing more than to spend another hour here, with her.

"Just for that, you and Nesta can accompany us to the symphony this weekend," Azriel said drily. "I got tickets."

Cassian sputtered. Rhys snickered.

"You manipulative bastard," Cassian muttered. "I hate you. You know I hate the symphony."

"Well, as you said, I need to have people around to chaperone me," Azriel pointed out, his voice laced with false sweetness. "I thought maybe you and Nesta would enjoy the occasion." Azriel knew that Nesta would enjoy it. So only because of that Cassian would go along with it. 

"I'll get my revenge, don't you worry," his brother hissed.

"I’m looking forward to it," Azriel deadpanned, a smirk tugging at his lips. It widened when he saw Cassian’s enraged expression.

"You’re the absolute worst," Cassian grumbled.

Azriel couldn’t repress a snort, even as Rhys let out an amused huff.

"You’ll survive," he assured Cassian. "...I think.”

"I’m not so sure," Cassian said darkly. "I think I might just die of boredom."

"Well, Nesta is delighted," Azriel said brightly. "I already asked her this morning."

The betrayed look on Cassian’s face was almost comical.

“You bastard,” he muttered. "You’ve used my mate against me. That’s the lowest blow you’ve ever dealt.”

Azriel only grinned back at him, not sorry in the least. "It’s not my fault you’re whipped, brother,” he turned Cassian’s words back on him. 

“You should winnow right into the box,” Rhys said quietly. Azriel looked up surprised. 

“Eira didn’t do so well with doing outside,” Rhys explained quietly. “It’s getting better…slowly. But it scares her.”

“We would be with her,” Cassian protested. “Nothing would happen.”

“Her brain may understand that, but her heart doesn’t,” Rhys said with a sigh. “It happened outside, so…”

He didn’t end that thought, but he didn’t need to. Azriel understood. 

Lunch was served inside, and Eira seemed to flag slightly. An afternoon nap seemed to be in her future. The knife wound had healed well enough but she didn't seem to be up to her usual levels of ability yet. 

Still, she smiled as soon as she saw him, something that made his heart painfully constrict. Mate, his shadows sang happily. Her smile made his heart ache, made him want to scoop her up in his embrace and just hold her. 

Her face was paler than usual. Clearly, the wound was still affecting her. But the smile on her face, the happiness that lit up her expression as she saw him almost drove his worries away.

Almost.

He took the seat next to her, his shadows curling around her almost immediately, as if as desperate for the contact as he was.

She shot him an amused look, but her hand reached out to greet his shadows, scratching at their invisible heads almost instinctively.

Azriel could hardly keep himself from shuddering at the sight of her fingers running through his shadows. It was almost enough to drive him crazy with the primal, animalistic urges in the back of his head. The urges that urged him to pull her into his lap right there and then, bury his face in the crook of her neck and just hold her. Claim her. Mate.

He shoved them all down as firmly as he could, focusing on his breathing for a moment.

He was painfully aware of how closely Cassian was watching him, a smirk on his face. And based on the way Rhys was watching him, he probably wasn’t doing a very good job hiding his reaction to how she touched his shadows.

Damn it.

Luckily, Eira didn’t seem to realise the effect her actions had on him.

She was still staring at his shadows as if trying to work out how they worked. They clearly loved her. They purred and twirled around her, preening at the attention.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her, desperate for something, anything...to just hear her voice.

She looked up from his shadows to stare at him, her eyes a soft, gentle grey.

"I’m fine," she assured him, her voice so soft it sent a shiver down his spine. "I’ve just been so sleepy all day."

"The wound is still affecting you," he said, his voice low, his gaze studying her face carefully, taking in the paleness and the hint of dark circles under her eyes. "You need to rest." Maybe the symphony wasn't the best idea after all.

Of course, he wanted to spend more time with her. He always did.

But the knife was clearly still affecting her, making her tired, making her sleep longer than usual. The last thing he wanted was to have her exhaust herself with an evening out.

"Well, I hope you are up for an evening out later this week because Azriel got tickets for the symphony," Cassian said, between shovelling food into his mouth. Azriel glared at him.

"...the symphony?" Eira echoed, her gaze switching to him.

"The symphony," Azriel confirmed in a low mutter, shooting Cassian another glare.

He hadn't been intending to spring that on her. He had hoped to ask her a little more subtly She was staring at him, her eyes wide, a little confused, as if she couldn’t quite work out why he had gotten them tickets.

"Nesta and Cassian would accompany us," Azriel said quietly. "If you are up to it. If you aren't..." he trailed off.

Eira seemed to relax slightly at the mention of Nesta and Cassian accompanying them as if the prospect of it not being just her and him but a group event made her feel better. It made some of the tension in his chest ease, knowing that the prospect of going to the evening out didn’t make her anxious.

She smiled faintly, her eyes still a little confused.

"I would love to.".

The tension in Azriel’s chest eased further.

For a moment, he had almost feared she would turn down the offer. He had half expected a protest from her, a reason as to why she really wasn’t feeling well enough to go out. But she hadn’t. She had agreed. She wanted this.

His shadows chittered happily at the thought, twisting around her fingers.

His eyes followed their movements as if drawn to the sight of Eira’s hand touching his shadows.

They were practically writhing around her, as if drinking up the attention, practically begging for more.

Part of him wanted to pull her into his lap right there and then, just to hold her as she continued to pet his shadows.

He suppressed the urge though, forcing himself to look away as Rhys shot him a knowing smirk. He just knew Cassian was silently snickering at him on the other side of the table. Damnit.

He could feel Cassian’s curious gaze on him and knew that his brother had to be noticing how his shadows were acting. They were never so openly affectionate with anyone, except now with Eira.

Azriel couldn’t decide whether he hated his shadows for it or was grateful for them. Hated them for making it so obvious that he himself desired nothing more than to wrap her up in his embrace and hold her close. Or whether he was grateful for them, for getting the little bouts of contact he so desperately craved.

Part of him was tempted to command them to stop, to get them to cool it down so that Cassian and Rhys didn’t notice just how affectionate his shadows were being.

But he also knew how much they loved this, how much they loved her. He could see it in the way they twisted around her hands, in the way they seemed to curl into her touch, as if desperate for more contact.

The rational part of him was screaming that Cassian and Rhys were noticing, that they would have to be blind not to notice it.

The less rational part of him was silently preening, utterly satisfied that not only his shadows but everyone knew that she was his.

But then his brain finally kicked in and he muttered a soft command for them to behave.

To his relief, they obeyed, though not before coiling around her hand one more time. Azriel was half surprised that they didn’t attempt to actually lick her.

He could see Rhys’s lips twitching into a smirk, clearly having heard the command, and based on the grin on Cassian’s face he had also noticed the interaction.

His two brothers were clearly having a field day, noticing every little reaction he had to Eira.

Azriel didn’t care though. Right now, all he cared about was the pleased little smile on Eira’s face.

She seemed blissfully unaware of his shadows acting as they had, completely oblivious to the fact that they were practically worshipping her every move.

It was a thought that both delighted and concerned him.

Delighted, because she still clearly didn’t even know how much his shadows adored her. She had no idea the degree of their devotion to her.

But it also concerned him. It worried him, that she was completely unaware of his shadows worshipping at her feet. Worried him because she had no idea what lengths they would go for her…what lengths he would go for her. 

But the only person he could give the fault for that…it was himself. 

[whore-ibly-hot]

'Photo Shoot'

Yan!Photography Student x GN!reader x Yan!Art instructor (Joseph and Mr. Burton)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: All characters are legal age, multiple yanderes, dub-con touching, perverted thoughts, voyeurism, student/teacher dynamics, nude photography, no real mention of specific genitals

AN: I'm so eepy right now... Also, if you like this fic, use the tags on my masterlist to find all the other Yan!Boarding School writings.

The smoke coming from the corner of the room ceases when Mr. Burton snuffs a cigarette butt out on an... ashtray? From where you're sat, you can see him putting it out on what looks more like a student pottery bowl. That strikes you as odd, but he can be very critical of others art so you can't be suprised. Cracking his knuckles and leaning back a little, he turns to you and the extremely quiet classmate beside you, Joseph.

"Alright, lets get this show on the road, yeah? Joseph, you're our camera man, I'll have you leading this thing, running the camera's and I'll give some creative direction. Student and the master, I can finally teach some actual fucking art." Mr. Burton mumbles, as Joseph quickly begins setting up the camera on a tri-pod. You feel odd about him to say the least, despite you being the 'muse', as Mr. Burrton calls you, Joseph's barely made eye contact with you. You agreed right off the bat when Mr. Burton asked you to help one of his favorite students with some anatomy shoots, you like Mr. Burton, he's funny, honest, and that's refreshing, given you worry some people at this academy have ulterior motives. Still, you had some concerns as you fiddle with the thin top you wore at Mr. Burton's request. "Mr. Burton?" you ask, and he looks up from where he's mumbling about something with Joseph. He motions for the young man to keep working as he strolls over.

"I'm nervous." You admit, hand rubbing at your elbow as an attempt to self-soothe. "I don't usually get, nude, on camera, and i-it's not that I don't trust you, sir, but-" He puts his hand up to cut you off, gently rubbing your shoulder. "Woah, woah. I get it, I get it." He assures you, tone comforting. "You're my student, and you've got great, great potential. I've been on the art scene, kid, I see the burnout path some people go down, I see the ways people exploit and get exploited. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. If you get uncomfortable, I'll pull you out. And trust me, being in the nude for art starts to feel perfectly normal after a while, okay?" He pauses, then sighs. "Okay, it's comfortable except for being cold as hell." He laughs.

You chuckle in return, but there's still a bit of worry. He can tell, and leans in. "What is it that worries you, exactly? If it's insecurity, trust me, the real artists are those marketing execs who can photoshop a skinny model and make change up the whole idea of beau-"

"It's not that sir, I promise. I'm just worried about other people seeing, you know? I'm worried about it getting spread around, or people getting bad ideas about me." You admit, face a little pale. Mr. Burton's brows furrow, and he slaps his hand down on his jeans. "Joseph, come here!" He yells.

Joseph jumps, hands shaking as he almost knocks over his tripod. "But- uh, the cameras-" He squeaks out, and Mr. Burton shakes his head. "You're one of the best photographers I've ever met, Joseph, I know damn well that cameras been set up for well over ten minutes already. Come here, don't be shy, don't be weird. You're freaking out the subject." At the idea him staying away is freaking you out just as much as him coming up to you, Joseph walks over. "H-hi." he greets, holding out his hand. You shake it, and it is particularly sweaty.

"Joseph is a great photographer, my best student and possibly one of the best I've ever seen. I assure you, he's a good kid. He's dedicated to his craft, this isn't a complex scheme for him to fence some nudes of you to the highest bidder." The young man's eyes widen exponentially as Mr. Burton makes his assertion, and instinctually puts his hands up in surrender. "No, no! I would never, ever. Do I- do I come off as that kind of creep, if I do I'm sorry."

"No, it's not that at all, I just struggle with, well, some issues like that." Joseph visibly frowns, and Mr. Burtons hand tenses from it's spot on the table.

"You are pretty creepy, Joseph." Mr. Burton admits, making the boy flush as the teacher playfully pushes his head. "This'll be good, good art pushes outside of comfort zones, yeah? Let's get all set up." He claps his hands together as he goes to stand behinf the camera with Joseph. You strip, and sit awkwardly before the camera in front of a messy brick wall with various stains and prints on it from Mr. Burton's studio. Mr. Burtons licks his lips subconsciously as he looks over your meek form, the clears his throat. "Okay, first position, mermaid pose. Lets get those legs to the side."

The shoot continues on for a while, until Mr. Burton suggests a more 'raw' shoot. That's how you find yourself posing, hands over your chest area and thighs ever so slightly parted while Mr. Burton sits behind you, also nude. You worried about it being inappropriate, mostly for his sake. "Couldn't this... I mean, I'm willing to do it if you think it'll be good art, but won't you get in trouble if people find out?" You ask, turning over your shoulder a bit. He scoffs again, and shakes his head. "No self-respecting person with credentials like mine would teach these silver spoon brats art, I'm all they've got." He assures you, going to move an arm around your waist from behind.

"What composition do you want, sir?" Joseph asks, face red as he uses every ounce of will-power to try and suppress an erection at the sight of you and the older man. He'll worry about the new and conflicting feelings later. He's got enough photos to die happy, but the fact you seem so willing fills him with a delusional sense of your interest in him.

"It's your shoot, Joseph. Take over directing." Mr. Burton calls back, and Joseph doesn't seem sure. "I don't know, sir, you have more of a vision than me, and-" Mr. Burton groans, rolling his head back like a kid throwing a tantrum. "Jesus christ, kid. How many times do I have to hammer in that you're a good artist? You can direct your own shoots-" He notices the violently red flush of Josephs cheeks, and chuckles. "Or is this more an issue of being to embarrassed, because I told you-" He waves his free arm around. "We are pushing the envelope, making something raw, pushing ourselves out of comfort zones. To be a great artist, you have to not be afraid to tell your NUDE SUBJECT, to spread their legs and bare it all." Joseph is completely silent, stun-locked by his gruff teachers comments. He begins examining the shot in the view-finder after taking a few shaky breathes.

"Alright, Sir... of course." He swallows, and his shaky hands adjust the lens. "I want to-to try and delineate from what other people think nude shoots are, away from like... porn and stuff. Raw, but intimate, I think." Mr. Burton nods for him to continue, and seeing the interest in your eyes at his creative direction, Joseph gets a little more confident. "If you're okay with it-" He addresses you now. "I'd like Mr. Burton to be able to touch you, nothing too invasive, just a kiss on the neck or the shoulder, maybe letting him hold your thigh?" Joseph keeps his tone soft and asking, sure to imply you can say no.

"That's alright, I trust him." You mumble, looking at the gruff art instructor and seeing to your surprise a soft look on his face. "I'm honored, little muse." He teases, and the nickname makes you flush. "Oh, and you too, Joseph, we've not talked much, um, but you seem really dedicated, I'm sure I'm in good hands."

Shit. Well, so much for keeping his dick down, but at least he doesn't think you can see from the way the lighting is set up. He nods, and you shiver, feeling a cold pair of lips and a thin stubble scratch at the surface of your shoulder. "Are they cold?" Mr. Burton chuckles, placing a few more small kisses as you hear the camera shutter snap. "I'm sorry, I can't control the thermostat in here, all this money and they can't afford to make sure I don't freeze my dick off doing my job." He's always so grumpy, even when he's trying to be sweet. You close your eyes and try to relax into the feeling. It escalates occasionally, hands on your thighs as he kneads gently at your flesh, occasionally making a complaint about something or picking at Joseph, who keeps making an odd series of grunts, but you assume he's just breathing heavy from being so focused.

It culminates in you being positioned over him, as if playing the playful or dominate role in some sort of erotic moment. Mr. Burtons hands rest on your ass, his firm yet not fully erect cock a little too close to your hole. You're chest to chest with him, and while he's relishing in the feeling, Joseph makes a hand motion, and he knows its time to pull away, at least for this ession. He's smart, knows not to rush it, and he knows this is more than enough material for the vouyeristic camerman.

"I think we got some good shots, i-it's getting late. I'll go grab something from the vending machine while you too warm up." Joseph scarmbles away, camera bag held oddly across his crotch area. Mr. Burton smiles as you slide off from him, flushed as the weight of your previous position hits you. "You were great, a real professional." He urges, scooting forward to sit beside you.

"Thank you, sir. I was trying not to get too flushed or anything, I hope I didn't sweat too much." You admit, and he shakes his head to assure you. "Nah, you did fine, but if I could make a suggestion?" You look up. "No real intimate scene like that doesn't have a couple kissing. On your neck and shoulders was fine, but lets face it, people do more than neck each other when they're getting it on like that." He glances at the door, making sure Joseph is still doing whatever it is he's doing out there. He didn't discuss this part with the young artist, but let's face it, learning to be one step ahead, to protect your work and your muse, is something he's gonna have to learn anyways. "Will you let me show you?" he asks, voice low as he leans closer to your face.

You glance at the camera. "It's not running, though shouldn't we wait for joseph to take the photo?" You ask, a little more unsure about the artistic integrity of the action. He shakes his head as he lets his stubble scratch your cheek. "This'll be practice, yeah? For next time..."

"Next time?"

"Next time." He mumbles, lips feverishly sealing against your as he hunces over your form, cold bodies pressing together and leaving goosebumps which trail down your form as the session closes out.

[sleepy-grav3]

The Moon Child Part 2

Part 1

A/n: Wow. I posted the first part to this and you guys like- rushed to it like starving animals holy SHIT... Should I be scared???? anyway- here ya go

Summary: Danny meets the Aqua Family and gets the love he deserves, plus a little comfort.

Tw: hurt/comfort, bad parents, mentioned discrimination, angst, ghost animal cruelty, swears, objectification, fluff

I forgot to mention Danny goes by he/they pronouns, Atlanteans know a lot of animals, and gender is weird sometimes so they aren't assuming anything and that's fair since Danny could shapeshift if he wants

The Moon Child Part 2 - The Moon Loves the Sea

Warm. He felt warm while in his core. And he could feel the soft cushion he was placed on. He heard the stories that Aquaman Arthur would tell him about all of his adventures and the rambles about his family. He was even told the secret about his stepbrother, Orm, who's death was faked and now lived on land.

It was... nice. Safe. He hadn't felt so loved in a long time. Or, at least, he thinks he hasn't. He had lost track of time while in the labs. It was painful to think about. Visibly so. Apparently, when he drifted into those dreadful terrors, his core's soft light would flicker into a dimmer one which resonated with his sobs. Arthur or his wife, who would keep him beside them at all times, would pick him up each time and hold him close to their heart.

"It's alright" They would say. "You're safe now."

Their heartbeat would always calm him down. It pulsed out reassuring feelings with each beat of their hearts. It was soothing and he never felt so safe. Not even when he was alive. To think he needed to die to feel this way.

It took a while for the pain to finally go away, but he soon felt ready to come out of his core. He couldn't recuperate as much as he wanted to. Not to use his full abilities of his ghost powers. No, there wasn't a massive supply of ambient ectoplasm like in Amity. He learned that what he was absorbing the most was the magic, which acted as a saline solution to blood (which he was pretty sure his blood was fully ectoplasm now).

It was interesting how magic tied in with ectoplasm. He wondered if that's why summoning worked best for those in the realms for that reason. Maybe the specific rituals to summon them even tied closely with their ecto-signatures? It's an interesting thought really.

That isn't the point though. What is, is that he was healthy enough to come out of his core.

"Ok, Danny. Deep breath. Here we go-"

-

Arthur was doing his usual thing: struggling to wake up in the morning and only really doing it because he didn't want to worry the literal spirit of a god. And it's not even because they're a god, but because they're a child. Should he have kept them in the same room. He feels like that might've been a better choice than just leaving them in a room next to his.

Arthur shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge only to jump at the cold feeling of the floor.

"All kinds of water magic and they still can't stop the floor from being cold."

He huffed, getting up and picking out some casual wear that didn't have a bunch of jewelry with protection runes. Some normal clothes to hang out with family.

Kaldur came back yesterday, so they're having breakfast together. He hoped that he'd believe the whole moon deity thing. Kaldur was pretty good and believing new things, but this was their main religion they're talking about. Religion is iffy, or at least it was for those on land. The ocean folk are... extremely loyal.

Should he worry about them trying to destroy the new moon...?

He shook his head. No, they probably couldn't get past the layers of the atmosphere. Hopefully.

He walked out of the door, now thinking about how sea creatures would even pull that off before knocking on the door of the room next to his.

"It is uh, me. Again." It never sounds less awkward. Maybe I should try adding the dramatics?

And with a twist and push, he opened the door only to freeze with widening eyes. The stone wasn't there.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

Only to hear a chirp. he flinched, attention darting over to the full body mirror on the other side of the door that pushed into the room. A door he was going to have fixed to avoid heart attacks like these.

He let out a huge sigh of relief, walking over and bending down with a crooked grin.

"Well, good morning. I didn't expect you to appear for a while. But hey! Perfect timing! Kaldur's going to be joining us during breakfast today, so we could introduce you guys! We could meet Orm soon too! I bet he'll be absolutely surprised!"

The child only looked at him with their big wide doe eyes. Hope sparked in them, but anxiety kept their body tense.

"You... You were serious about it? About me meeting your family?"

Arthur placed a hand on their shoulder, he could barely notice the cool temperature of their body before he saw them jump. He was going to pull away his hand, but then the child relaxed a bit more. It was as if they hadn't had affectionate physical contact in a long time.

"Have they ever been anything but a moon? Are all moons like this? What about other planets? Earth... we have so much pollution. If it were alive..., would it only just barely be clinging?"

"Yes, I was and still am. You're a part of it now for as long as we live. And even when we pass, you will continue to have a place in the ocean. You might not have realized this, but the ocean worships you like a god. In fact, I think I'm going to have to talk with the Justice League about offering an apology gift of some sort."

The child blinked, eyes wide and glistening as a layer of moisture sparkled more yet made the eye look foggy. Looking closer, Arthur could see how moonstones came to be when they cried. It would hurt if it was a literal stone the kid cried. Like- like kidney stones! He was thankful that it wasn't like that.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them? You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

Arthur blinked. What?

"No... Nobody- Why would anybody think that?"

The child pursed his lips into a thin line, averting his eyes. With each blink, a silvery white liquid would start to drip and condense to the moonstones he found.

"I... don't know how things work around here... But on land... I've... They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

Arthur took a breath, pulling the spirit into his arms into a tight embrace. They clung to their veil that was wrapped around their arms like a shawl.

It seems that he had some lore to read up upon and some things to investigate.

-

(This bit's about Danny's POV. It'll be continuing with his while he meets everyone)

Danny didn't know what to think when he looked at himself in the mirror earlier. He didn't have a shirt, but the scarf thing was comfy. He could make it into some kind of make-shift shirt if he wanted to too. His memory on how to do it was... foggy and fractured. Some parts of speech were muffled and what he saw from that time would blur or seemed made up.

He knew the person teaching him.

Why can't he remember them clearly? He could hear whispers of something in his head telling him who that was.

And when he pushed that thought aside, he'd look back at other memories and realize who that was.

Tucker. How could he ever forget about Tucker? Why was he forgetting him?

What made it worse was how much he had to stare at the damn mirror to get the knots right. His chest... it wasn't ever that clean. No Lichtenberg scars. No burns, no cuts, no incision scars. Nothing. It was clean of any of his failures. His struggles. His learning experiences.

And yet... he still imagined them being there. Each time his fingers would brush up against places where he knew scars should've been, a shot of pain would spike as if he'd been electrocuted.

It hurt.

He hated how he remembered.

He hated that he didn't.

He used to remember all of it. He did when he was sobbing for days on end.

Now, it was foggy. Now, it was hidden away. He couldn't reach it.

"Oh my god- I lost-"

He chirped in surprise, turning with widened eyes. Oh. It's just Arthur. I really need to get out of my head.

Arthur walked over, looking slightly drained, as if he was relieved of a sudden weight placed on his shoulders. And by the vibes, Danny's guess seemed right.

Relieved Happy Happy Excited Nervous Happy

He was always so cheery in the... well, what seemed to be the day. Sucks to be out now that he thought about it. It would be rude to just fall asleep at random now that they could physically see if he's awake or not.

Arthur greeted him warmly, cheerily saying how he didn't expect him to come out of his core as if the event was a surprise gift. That... was confusing to say the least. It's easier to have a pet rock than a guest. Now he has to feed him to be polite, or at least offer. He has the room covered since the beginning. It was a really big room. A waste for something someone like him.

He felt his body freeze and start muffling sounds when Arthur started mentioning Kaldur and Orm. His family. Close ones, from the stories he would tell.

M4Dd13 and J4Ck would never allow strangers near him, much less Jazz.

"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them?" He couldn't stop the questions from slipping out even when his expression shifted. "You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"

He doesn't even know how he could even think of himself as otherwise. He could remember the custom-made, high voltage tasers that targets his ecto-signature itself until he acted how they expected him to. How they wanted him to.

His eyesight became extremely cloudy. It was similar to the green he'd see before he would start crying after he couldn't cry water anymore.

Ghosts... Ghosts cry ectoplasm. What... What was he crying? What is he now? He was- Why wasn't he gone? He was Ended, wasn't he? They got rid of his heart and crushed his core to determine the durability- there wasn't a way to come back from that.

So why was he alive?

Why can't he-

"-think that?"

Shit- he wasn't paying attention.

Danny couldn't bare to look at the man, guilt eating away at him.

"I... don't know how things work around here..."

He could barely register that it was his voice.

"But on land... I've..."

Why was he still touching his shoulder?

Why isn't he disgusted?

Why isn't he scared?

Why isn't he angry?

"They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."

But they destroyed me instead.

It was all for nothing.

Why didn't he listen to the Ancients?

Why did he just kill people?

They already expected him to do so anyway.

So why didn't he?

He couldn't feel the hug he was pulled into until he stopped crying.

What was he even crying about?

-

Ok so- Maybe Danny should start scheduling his breakdowns. So far, he's had ones at random or ones that goes on for multiple days without any stopping. Or- if he did stop, he really doesn't remember them.

But this is getting embarrassing. He was lucky Kaldur came home late or else they might've either came late or completely missed the breakfast reunion.

Ugh- and don't get him started with anxiety.

His eyes must be puffy or something. Great first impression, Danny! All ya gotta do now is cry again in front of everyone to make it one of the worst introductions in life.

Well, it wasn't really a good start even without him. Arthur had just dropped him onto a very cushiony chair and exclaimed: "Thank the seas! I'm starving!" And just went to devour a whole plate before calming down a bit with Mera scolding him.

He was just awkwardly watching until a plate was placed in front of him. He slightly tensed, attention going from his plate to the hand pulling away from the plate now that it was down. That's when his eyes made contact with Kaldur's. He seemed a bit startled to, as he blinked owlishly before smiling politely.

"Hello, I'm Kaldur'Ahm. You may call me Kaldur."

"U-um.. I'm..." What should he be called now? Phantom didn't feel as right anymore. Ah, what the heck. It's not like they know little ol' Danny Fenton. "I'm Danny." For some reason, that name didn't feel too right either.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard that you've been in a stone, so I was surprised to see you carried in by fa- Arthur."

Curious Happy Happy Nervous

Danny relaxed a bit, turning to his plate once eye contact became too difficult. He picked at his food

"I didn't have much strength when I first formed. I wasn't meant to even have a body but I... didn't want to be discovered and have my core cut up and carved into for some jewelry or something, so I forced myself. you could say it's like... an energy conservation form."

Danny started to actually eat his food, though a bit quicker than he usually would. Stress eating, how lovely.

"Is it a lot of work to stay as you are now? You don't have to stay like this if you're too drained." Kaldur started to fret for him, looking for any sign of strain.

Danny, feeling the worry from him, smiled. It's been a while since someone was worried for him.

"I recovered enough energy that I have a bit extra. I can't do a lot of the things I could before, but I don't feel any pain anymore. So, I'll be fine."

Kaldur relaxed a bit, though still held a slight frown.

"Tell me if you ever feel anything. I'm more than able to hold onto your core and protect you."

Danny hummed, continuing to eat. That's about the time Kaldur remembered that it was breakfast time and started- no, continued to eat from his plate. He must've served himself when Arthur started to or even before that.

"Hey hey hey! Now that the kid's awake, why don't we take a family trip toooooooooo" He dragged out the word as Mera glared at him. "-my brother's grave! I bet he'd love to meet you! And on the way, we can go to the burger place and shop for some clothes, meet my dad-"

Danny looked over at Kaldur, who shook his head fondly at his obvious father-figure. Really, that slip up wasn't getting past him, no way, not possible.

"Don't mind him." Mera sighed. "He's an idiot."

"Hey!"

"Danny, you could always say no. We could go a different day." Kaldur mentioned.

"Danny?" Arthur questioned. Mera rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention, will you?"

"No, it's fine." Danny shook his head with a nervous smile. "I'd like to see him too."

"GREAT!" Arthur exclaimed, making Danny jump and Kaldur wince at the volume. "Hurry and finish your meals! I'll call over the pups!" and then he ran off.

"Pups?" Danny asked.

"Sharks." Mera clarified with a fond sigh. "Ever since he heard someone call them sea puppies, he's been calling them pups and puppies ever since."

"That's... really cute actually." Danny snickered.

"He sneaks away to play with them all the time." Kaldur groaned, remembering the number of meetings he had to take over for the man.

Danny reached over and patted Kaldur's forearm.

"You poor child."

"At least you understand."

-

Kaldur... well, Danny didn't really know how to put it. He was really nice and all, but he was a bit...

"These earrings would look great on you." Kaldur hummed as he held up dangling pearls to his ears.

Kaldur's already bought 3 bags of stuff for him in the last 20 minutes since coming to Reef Town (completely made-up place, just go with it). He even had to adjust his ghost clothes so he could wear the pants and shirt, and other stuff that were bought for him. He still kept the veil since it was really soft and soothed him when he rubbed it between his fingers.

"Ah, but this goes with your clothing... Perhaps we should order one to be made in Atlantis?" Kaldur trailed off, mumbling about different shops and what materials they had along with design names Danny had no clue about. He was almost sure that some of those words were made-up with how they sounded.

"Oookaaayyy- how about we think this over later?" Arthur insisted, a hand on Kaldur's shoulder and the other taking away the earrings in his hands. "We have someone to meet in... about 5 minutes."

"Right, sorry! I got distracted-"

"You're fine, you little urchin." Arthur chuckled, pushing Kaldur towards the door. "Now let's go meet Orm!"

Danny felt a hand on his head. It was a gentle, motherly touch. It nearly made his core let out a purr. Only Jazz could do that with touch alone. Though he nearly started to do the same when they'd mark where they'd cut next. They didn't do that as often with how much they liked to see his organs and bones regenerate.

"Tell Kaldur if it's too much. He's just really excited to have you around and is used to having to give something to keep sea creature friends around."

Ah, he knew that voice.

"Ex..cited? Why?" Danny looked up at Mera, leaning into her touch.

Mera smiled down sweetly at him; her eyes were filled with love that would be pointed to her own child.

She didn't have that drunken lust M4Dd13 had in her eyes each time she came back.

It made his core flutter.

"He sees you as a younger sibling. He's wanted one for a little while now. I... I can't get myself to try again, so he didn't expect to have a sibling. He was really excited to meet you after he heard that you agreed to stay with Arthur. You didn't reject my touch either. I hope it was fine that I held your... core, was it?"

Danny felt her finger card through his hair. He melted at the soothing touch.

"Yeah. It's... it's everything to a ghost. Heart and soul. And... I heard about you from Arthur while I was in my core. And you were the reason Arthur knew to comfort me. So, I knew I could trust you."

Mera smiled a bit more brightly and knelt down, hands holding his face with all the love in the world before she placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm glad. Now, let's go catch up with the boys. I'm sure Kaldur and Arthur must be panicking."

Danny could barely follow after her, having to make himself float as she grabbed his hand to lead him outside. Everything was too fuzzy and happy; it was hard to focus.

-

"Did you kidnap a child spirit?!"

That was the first thing Orm said when he saw Danny, immediately looking at Arthur incredulously as he slammed the table with his hands.

He immediately walked over and knelt down in front of Danny.

"I am so sorry about him-"

"Hey! I didn't-"

"-he's an idiot and really doesn't know any better."

"I didn't kidnap him!"

Orm arched a brow at his brother before looking over at Mera.

"No contracts were made."

Orm looked back at Danny.

"You went with him willingly?"

Danny snickered. "He looked like an idiot."

"You too?!"

"You really can't blame him." Kaldur agreed, smiling over at Danny.

Danny giggled and looked back at Orm.

"I'm Danny."

"Orm, that idiot's older brother. Stepbrother. Now, why did a saintly spirit decide to tag along with this family?"

Mera walked over, placing a hand on Danny's head again. He leaned into it, barely able to keep in a purr.

"You remember the incident with the moon?" Orm nodded. "Well, they're the spirit of the moon."

Orm's eyes widened, head snapping right back to Danny.

"You- you're-"

Danny blinked. He's a what? Wait, not the time to dissociate-

"Is... Is that bad?" Danny hesitantly asked.

"No! Not at all- I just- I've always believed in you, it's just that- Seeing an idol is a bit of an experience-"

"An idol?" Danny questioned, looking up at Orm. He was still kneeling, doesn't that hurt?

"Well, I've heard stories about how you'd battle against the sun gods and sent blessed rain to heal those under incurable plagues. That you split your own soul to assist physically on this world to help those that roamed on it! I've traveled to different places on the land just to see your descendants. And what beautiful white features they have. Did you know that humans call them albinos?"

"Really?"

"Yes! They deserve a better name that fits the position of blessed descendants! The fools!"

"I-it's fine, really! I'm glad they're doing ok and- and that my blessing still lives on."

Orm sighed and stood up.

"You're much too kind. Even after they replaced you, you don't hold it against anyone."

Oddly enough, he felt his chest tighten. It was as if...

"Someone has to do my job in controlling the currents, right?" Danny smiled sadly.

The others seemed to feel sympathy for the spirit, Kaldur going over and pulling him into a hug.

"It's alright. The ocean will stand by your side. Forever. They still worship you even now. So don't think you were only a tool, ok?"

Danny nodded. "Ok.."

He fought back against the tears.

-----

A/n: well, that was a bit longer than the last one. I was planning to write more for this chapter, but I'll just add it to the next one. Sorry if it seems a bit stiff, it'll be better eventually... hopefully.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

[marvelsswansong]

Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only

no but like seriously 🌞👉👈

Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.

This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.

Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.

If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.

"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.

Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.

"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.

But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.

So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.

He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.

After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.

You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.

It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.

His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.

Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.

"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.

"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.

"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."

"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.

You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.

She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.

"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."

With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.

"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."

You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.

"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

Regardless of their gender.

Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.

BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)

You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.

Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.

"I'm not interested, sorry."

The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.

"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."

The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.

He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.

a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe