#with that gotten The King in Yellow in his head

[plutosplanetarystatusismine]

Okay but can we talk about the book that John/The Entity was in before entering the eyes of a certain Arthur Lester?

[luxaofhesperides]

Accidental Bride Sacrifice ; requested by @starlightcat04!

Danny has long since gotten used to the feel of summonings. They don’t happen often, but sometimes the right components are put together to force him into answering, and he’d have to go as the new Ghost King.

Which no one told him was a thing! He hadn’t protested too much about the whole Ghost King deal when they finally told him about it after he graduated high school. It gave him a good excuse to ditch life in the living realm and not worry about college or a career, and let him really embrace his ghost side. 

The summonings are a problem, though. They always feel staticky and bad, like a dumpster that just got struck by lightning. The taste of iron on his tongue, a clear sign of blood being spilled, lets him know that it would be one of end the world for us summonings, because some people can’t put in the effort to do it themselves, apparently. 

But this time, the summoning feels different.

Danny pauses, eyes going unfocused in the middle of his conversation with Jazz. He had been looking forward to spending the week with her, now that she’s on winter break, but his luck is as bad as always.

“I’m being summoned,” he tells her, cutting off her rant about a transphobic professor she had. 

“Oh, no. Do you need me to do anything? Should I go with you to beat up whoever it is that’s summoning you?”

Danny tilts his head to the side, considering. The taste of blood is noticeably absent. In fact, this summoning pull doesn’t make him feel sick at all. It makes him feel warm, as if he’s just been wrapped in a hug.

“No,” he says. “I think I’m good. This one feels different.”

“A good different?” Jazz asks, worry clear in her voice.

“Yeah. A good different. I’ll come back soon, okay?”

“Alright. Be careful, Danny.” Jazz pulls him into a quick hug, then steps back to watch as Danny stops fighting the pull of the summoning and disappears into a swirling white rings that flashes into existence behind him, blinding her for a moment, and is gone when she manages to blink the spots out of her vision. 

For a minute, Danny drifts in a void of stillness, traveling through the realms as the summoning draws him closer to the correct realm. And then he’s rising out of the ground in a dark building made of concrete, candles of green flame scattered all over the place.

“Great One!” someone in a hooded cloak cries, raising his arms in jubilation. “Our calls have been answered!”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” a mechanical voice yells from farther back. When Danny looks past the cultists’ heads, he spots a man in a red hood and leather jacket chained to a pole, along with a bunch of other people in strange costumes tied up, desperately trying to free themselves. 

“Silence!” The leader of the cult, or who Danny assumes is the leader, snaps at the hooded man and gestures to the people off to his left. They force another costumed person forward, this one in yellow armor. He can see the blood running down their face from beneath their helmet and from their nose, dark lines of blood cutting through their brown skin. 

The cultists throw the armored person forward, forcing them to kneel. Then they bow to Danny and step back.

“Great One,” the leader says, voice unpleasantly reverent and grating, “Welcome to the mortal realms. We offer you this sacrifice to feed your strength. He will make a fine general for your undead army in your crusade to rid this world of its filth.”

The people in the back begin shouting all together, panicked voices overlapping, and Danny is left staring down at the cultists in shock.

The summoning had felt so nice. What the hell was this? He did not sign up for another ‘end of days’ insane cult. He just wanted to be hugged. 

His silence makes the cultists nervous. They begin to shift uneasily, whispering to each other, and the leader clears his throat, then pulls a large crystal dagger out of his cloak. “We shall prove our devotion to you through an offering of a hero’s blood!”

And then he moves towards the sacrifice and Danny snaps out of his shock to yell, “Wait!”

The entire room freezes. Even the costumed people in the back go still. 

Danny winces, then tries to smother his power, make himself more palatable to the humans of this dimension. “Wait,” he says again, and he sounds closer to human now. If he could, he would drop his ghost form entirely, but he knows better than to endanger himself like that. “What, exactly, did you summon me here for?”

The cult leader stares at him for a moment. “To… To rid the world of filth and allow your loyal followers to spread word of your power. You will be worshiped again, Great One, and serve as a reminder to man that Death shall always prevail.”

“Okay, I get that, but I was talking more along the lines of the summoning. What ritual did you use? What specifically were the summoning requirements?”

Normally, he’d be able to figure it out himself, but these cultists didn’t use a summoning circle. So they did something else, something less visible and therefore harder to figure out, in order to bring him here.

A woman standing off to the side speaks up, stepping forward hesitantly. “I had pieced together a few summoning spells from this book to bring you here. You had to accept our chosen sacrifice to your side in order for the summoning to work.”

“Hold up that book for me, please?”

She does, and Danny flies down to grab it from her hands. “Point out which lines you used,” he says, already reading a few of the words written down. It’s definitely ghostspeak written down, which should be near impossible for living humans to translate without being skilled in magic.

“Ah, these ones.” She points to each line, reading them out for him, and Danny starts understand what, exactly, went wrong.

“Is there a problem, Great One?”

Danny returns the book then floats over to the sacrifice and picks him up. The costumed people make alarmed noises, but quietly quiet down again when all Danny does is move him away from the cultists.

“Okay,” he says, “So. The lines you used to summon me were not translated properly. What you interpreted as ‘accepted to stay by the king’s side in loyalty and strength’ is not meant to be, like, him being part of my undead army or whatever. It’s a royal marriage vow.”

“They married us?” the sacrifice shouts, disbelieving. The cult leader buries his face in his hands and sighs.

“My deepest apologies, Great One. We meant no offense. We simply wanted to aid in your destruction of this depraved world.”

Danny scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “Yeah, that’s not gonna fly with me. I do not do the biding of random people, especially those who are ready to murder innocent people for no reason. Frighty, if you would.” He snaps his fingers, calling up Fright Knight who always enjoys getting to torment the people who summon Danny for murderous reasons.

Fright Knight appears in a swirl of darkness and screams. Shadows swallow the room, and when they recede, no cultists remain.

“Thanks, Frighty. Have fun with them. I need to figure out all… this.”

Fright Knight bows to him, then disappears. Danny lets out a breath, then floats down lower to be eye level with the sacrifice. “Hey,” he says gently, with a smile, “I’m so sorry they did this to you. I’m Danny. What’s your name?”

“Du— Uh, Signal,” the sacrifice says, sounding rather dazed. 

“Signal,” Danny repeats. “Like… a traffic signal?”

“No. I mean, maybe? But it is Signal. That’s my hero name, not my real name.”

“Oh, you’re a hero!” His getup makes more sense now. Danny checks him over for any signs of injuries. So far, only his head and nose seem to be injured, but his wrists are tightly bound behind his back. Carefully, Danny calls upon his ice and shapes it into a sharp knife, then cuts through the zipties.

He helps Signal up to his feet, floating by his shoulder. “All good?”

“Yeah, man, all good. Let me just get the others free.”

“Oh, I can do it!” Danny flies over to the other costumed people, who must also be heroes. All it takes is one link in the chain being frozen and broken for the entire thing to go lax, allowing them to free themselves. Hooded guy spares Danny a single glance, then hurries over to Signal to check on him. The other three, a man with a blue bird across his chest, a blond girl with a yellow bat outline on her chest, and a guy with bandoliers and a golden bird emblem, all watch him warily as he floats back towards the center of the room.

“So,” the blue bird man says, “If they summoned you with a marriage vow, and you accepted, does that mean you’re planning to steal Signal away from us?” He’s smiling, but it’s not a nice smile.

“No! I had no idea they did this! I am so sorry you all got caught up in this. You most of all, Signal.”

Signal shrugs, nudging hood guy away from him. “Nah, man, it’s all good. This is definitely the better outcome.”

“I don’t know, being married off isn’t really a good thing.”

“Hey, at least they married me off to a decent guy.”

“You don’t know that,” Danny says, “What if I’m secretly evil?”

“If you were secretly evil, you’d be destroying the world right now. I think you’re fine.”

The blond girl waves at him, demanding his attention. “Quick question! They were calling you ‘Great One’. Are you a god or something?”

“Not really? I’m the Ghost King. So I’m a ghost who rules over other ghosts and also a majority of the Infinite Realms.”

She nods as if this is all totally normal for her, then shoots Signal a grin. “Congrats on bagging a king! Not the worst way to spend a night, right?”

“Can you break the marriage?” blue bird man asks, the lines of his shoulders tense.

Danny awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, not looking any of them in the eye. “I honestly don’t know. I can look for a way! But I genuinely have no clue. This was unexpected.”

“But you accepted.”

“I didn’t know what I expected! It just felt like a hug, and I wanted a hug! I thought I was being summoned for something nice for once!” Danny curls up, bringing his knees up to his chest, and hides his pout behind his hands. He knows he’s being childish, but he can’t help but be upset that he couldn’t have this one good experience from being Ghost King. 

It’s always responsibilities and death cult summonings and fighting ghosts who don’t think he should be king. Sure there have been some good things, but they’re comparatively few when looking at all the other stress and pain that comes with the crown. Sue him for wanting to have a nice night for once. Hell, at this point, he’d take being summoned to help with some kid’s homework, because at least then he could have a quiet night helping someone.

“Hey, man, can you come down here?” Signal asks. 

He wants to stay out of reach, hiding himself away for a bit longer, but Signal is his new, surprise, accidental husband, so Danny lowers himself to the ground and peeks through his fingers to look at him.

He tenses when Signal hugs him, soft and warm and comforting. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s going on, and then he’s melting into Signal’s embrace, dropping his hands to wrap them around Signal’s back.

Distantly, he can hear the other heroes talking quietly amongst themselves. He blocks out the sound as much as he can, determined to enjoy this hug while it lasts.

Which is… fairly long. Signal makes no moves to end the hug, so Danny closes his eyes to really savor the moment. 

“So,” Signal murmurs into his ear, “As newlyweds, how about we get to know each other a bit better before we start working on fixing all this?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Let’s ditch these guys and take some time to ourselves.”

“I promise I’ll get this fixed,” he says, just to make sure Signal knows. “Genuinely, I am so sorry to have married you through an old Realms vow when you had no say in it.”

“Hey, if it lands me a very nice, very attractive king, then I don’t mind at all. I could have done without the murderous cultists, though.”

Danny huffs out a small laugh. “Oh, for sure. Thanks for being so cool about this. Want me to fly us out of here?”

“Yes please,” Signal says. Danny smiles and tightens his grip on Signal, then lifts them both up. “I’ll see y’all later! Have fun with the rest of your patrols!” he calls out to the other heroes, who start shouting at him.

Danny flies them right out the roof before the other heroes figure out a way to kick his ass. The city they’re in is smoggy and dark, tall buildings rising up into the cloudy sky, and police sirens ring through the air. There’s no where that looks like a particularly nice spot to land for a conversation, so he asks Signal where he’d like to go and follows his directions from there.

They end up phasing through a building, then into the floor, which leaves them in what Signal calls The Hatch. 

Danny takes a quick moment to freak out over being in a hero’s secret hide out, the composes himself and finally pulls away from Signal.

“So,” he starts, looking around The Hatch and taking in the giant computer, the workstation, the motorcycle farther down the way, “What did you—Woah!” Danny spins around, slamming a hand over his eyes the instant he realizes that Signal is taking off his helmet, leaving his face bare.

It’s not like he’d know who Signal is anyways, being from a different dimension, but it’s the principle of the matter.

Signal laughs when he sees Danny’s attempt to keep from looking at him. A warm hand wraps around his wrist and gently pulls it away. “It’s okay, Danny, you can look,” he says. “It would be pretty weird if my own husband didn’t know my face.”

Slowly, giving Signal to change his mind, Danny opens his eyes. He moves his gaze up, going from Signal’s armor to his face, his very cute face and his warm brown eyes, and Danny stares for a moment. 

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Hi,” Signal says, fondness coloring his voice. “My name’s Duke. Are all Ghost Kings as cute as you?”

“Duke,” Danny repeats. “Hi. Um, no. The last one really sucked, actually, which is why I fought him. He was so bad the Infinite Realms didn’t want him anymore, so though I technically didn’t beat him in single combat, it was enough for the Infinite Realms to kick him out and get me on the throne.”

“Man, I can not wait to hear more of your stories. Think we got time for that while we search for a way to undo that marriage vow?”

Taking his chance, Danny says, “Sure! It’s a date.”

He’s awarded by Duke’s bright smile and idly wonders how long he can keep them married. Hopefully long enough for them to get into a real relationship where he can propose properly. And then he can get Jazz’s blessing too—

“Oh shit,” Danny realizes. 

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell my sister or she’s going to actually kill me.”

Duke winces. “And I should probably tell the others before Spoiler makes a mess of things… B is not going to be happy with me.”

They share a despairing look, already dreading the amount of scoldings they’re both going to get. He’s not looking forward to it.

“...Put it off until tomorrow?”

Duke nods. “Yeah. That’s a tomorrow problem. For now, how about a late dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

. . .

[send me a ghostlights prompt!]

[devoutekuna]

Taking care of his pregnant wife

Includes- Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Gojo, Geto

Sukuna-

Everyone knows that the king isn't big of affection, it took years for him to even consider you the queen. That's why he always expressed his love for you in indirect gifts, like preparing your favourite meal, raiding a village just so you could get your favourite food or something like that. "Y/N!" Name being screamed as he grabbed your leg, watching your sleeping body hang in the air as he held you upside down. "Get up, don't be burden " you both knew that you'd never be a burden to him, it was only nearly words to him, meaning nothing but to keep his image. "I'm up 'my king'" rolling your eyes at the word king rolling off your tongue, he would've dropped you on the bed right now, but he remembers that your carrying the next heir, wanting to make sure you didn't die before him, he placed you on the floor, pulling your dress down so you didn't flash him.

Sat at the dining table, legs crossed as he stuffed his face with food, he rarely had a big breakfast unless it was a special occasion, always opting for a big dinner instead. "Morning" your cheery self rubbing your stomach, it was a habit now, since you were on the verge of giving birth any second now. Nodding as he carried on eating, you couldn't blame him, Uraume made some good food, that's why they were alive for so long. Sat beside him as you reached for the nearest plate, picking your favourite food up, resting your head onto his shoulder, normally hed kill anyone right there for getting too close to him but since it was you, you had a pass.

Nanami-

Nanami loves you and his daughter, always opting for you to rest rather than take care of your 3 year old. Finding you asleep on the at the kitchen table after coming home from work, head resting on the table from your exhaustion, hearing the TV blaring into his ears as he peeked round the corner, seeing his 3 year old daughter sat at the front of the TV, head resting on her shoulder, wrapped in a bunch of blankets and her own toys, noticing how smart and considerate she was for putting a blanket and pillow on you. Sighing as he hid back a smile, dropping his briefcase which carried his cursed weapon, walking over to check your temperature since it was pretty cold. Strolling over to his daughter as he picked her limp body up. Straddling her in his arms as he dragged her upstairs, fortunately she had brushed her teeth already and gotten into her pyjamas, so it was an easy task of just dropping her off into bed.

Walking back down after dropping his daughter off, picking you up, making sure not bump your stomach on the table, he wanted to make sure you were close but comfortable, especially since you recently complained about back pain cause of the baby. Resting your body onto the pull out sofa, wrapping your body in a bunch of blankets to keep your temperature normal. Kissing your forehead before heading off to the kitchen, sleeves already rolled up as he put on the yellow gloves and dipped his hand into the dirty water, searching for some small utensils he could wash first.

Geto-

Geto adores you pregnant, trying to sympathise with the way you feel despite his unethical ways of life. "Let me do that" grabbing the pot from your hands as you tried to drain the water out of the pot. Ushering you to sit down instead of overworking yourself. "I'm not that delicate, Suguru" trying to defend your actions as you took a seat, not rejecting the offer as it was nice for someone else to take over once in a while.

"I know but still" trying to defend his actions as he served you a bowl of noodles, giving your cheek a quick peck before sitting down beside you. "But I appreciate your efforts" smiling at him as you played with your noodles, making sure they weren't too hot.

Gojo-

"Y/N!" Shaking your limp body awake, hands full of cleaning supplies. "What shall I use?" Glancing towards the bathroom, normally you two rotated on cleaning but since you were pregnant he started to take over your shifts, noticing how sleepy and disoriented you were due to being woken up after a short nap. "Morning love, now what do I use?" Fighting the urge to drop whatever he was doing and cuddle in bed right now.

"What are you cleaning?" Rubbing your hand through your eyelashes to get the sleep out. "The bathrooms, but the wall tiles." Confirming with himself. He didn't know anything about cleaning till he met you, having to teach him from scratch since he was raised as a spoiled kid who had nannies. "I've got myself a toothbrush thing and wall spray?" Asking, he was in a rush since he wanted to get back to you, laying around in bed was his biggest want right now. Nodding in response. "Yeah just use that, wake me up when breakfast is done" knowing that he'd make your favourite breakfast since you were carrying his kid.

Toji-

Waking up on his wife was the best feeling, not needing a pillow due to him sleeping on your breasts, listening to your heartbeat as you slept soundly. Hand rubbing along your stomach, trying to feel some sort of movement from his little girl. "Morning love" caressing his hair as you felt him on you, feeling his small stubble as he lifted his head, brown eyes looking into yours. "Morning" hand resting against your underwear's waistband, playing with it as he kept on stringing it onto your skin. Sighing as he felt kicking from his little girl, sliding off you as you readjusted your body into a more comfortable position. "Ya' sleep good?" Looking up at your face, he was so mesmerized by you, hand still rubbing your stomach.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

requested by anon 18+

“Oh my god. Oh my god, I- ohgodohfuckohfuck-”

You grinned, hips never faltering, relishing in the way the boy beneath you squirmed and clutched at your hips, blunt nails digging into the dough there. You hoped he’d leave marks, evidence of the way had the king of Hawkins falling apart beneath you.

You rode him into his bed, naked in the daylight, the burst of Saturday afternoon sun coming in from his open curtains and the hazy light hitting your naked bodies made it all the more real. Steve was sunkissed and pink, tanned from the summer, flushed from the way you rolled your hips over his, hands pushed to his chest to keep him pinned down for you. The boy could easily overpower you, you knew that. Steve knew that.

But fuck, if it wasn’t more fun to let you have the control.

“S’wrong, Stevie?” You cooed, choking man your own moan when his cock kicked up inside of you at the sound of your voice. “It’s good right? You’re not gonna come already, are you?”

Steve groaned, pink lips parted and swollen from the way you’d kissed him against his front door, a scramble up his staircase as you led him with a finger tucked into the collar of his shirt. He was a mess, wild looking and pliant underneath you, head tipped back onto his pillows, brow scrunched up, eyes closing every time you took his cock a little deeper. He was huge, almost too big to take and his reputation did him well. Thick and nudging up in all the right spots, he’d stretched you out with a pleasurable sting as you’d sunk down on him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, nails raking down your thighs, grabbing at you to stop moving, just for a second, so he could collect himself. “No, nononono, jus’ gimme— shit! Gimme a minute, honey.”

You cooed again, soft noises leaving your lips as you leaned down to kiss him, dotting affection over his cheeks and chin, marvelling at how hot his skin was, how he whined and gasped at each touch. He was looking yo at you like a god, like something to be worshipped, like something to be revered. And maybe in the glow of the afternoon light, that yellow, gold shine across his sheets, they’d exactly what he wanted to do.

“Thought you were King Steve, huh? Thought you got all girls, handsome?” You didn’t offer much reprieve, immediately rolling your hips again, a steady back and forth, crying out when Steve swore, bucking himself up into you like he couldn’t help it. He was unwinding, a pretty little toy ready to burst, all pink and honey, caramel hair and brown sugar eyes.

“S’been a while,” Steve murmured and he sounded drunk, he sounded dazed. He blinked, pupils blown wide as his gaze settled on your bare chest, the peak of your nipples, the dip in your waist, the way his cock was nestled tight and hot inside your cunt. “And you’re so pretty, Jesus, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, you know that? Can’t help it, I need to—”

Steve grunted at he grabbed at you, jaw clenching at he canted up, hips drilling into you until you were the one crying out for him. He came a little soon after that, groaning your name like it was something holy, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you smoothed down his messy hair. He was pink cheeked, surprised at his own reaction, at how much he came, how sloppy he’d gotten, murmuring apologies into your skin with depserate kisses and the promise to make it up to you as he crawled down your body, pressing you into the mattress this time. His mouth was as eager as his cock, his tongue just as talented.

And he did make it up to you.

Twice.

[7s3ven]

HELL-FIRE. luke (pjo) - pt 1

PART 1 > PART 2 (in progress)

IN WHICH… Y/N doesn’t want to admit it, but perhaps she and the mischievous son of Hermes have more in common than she originally thought.

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.”

Warnings : mentions of abuse

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

—

The cold water lapped at Y/N’s shoulders as she sank into the tub placed strategically in the corner of the empty cabin.

Life as a forbidden kid was hard. You had no siblings and everybody was expecting you to do grand things. A small sigh slipped past Y/N’s lips as the water heated up until it was at a temperature that almost scolded her skin. Perhaps it was because Hades, the king of the Underworld, was her father but Y/N always found herself fascinated by fire. She loved to watch the blue, orange, and yellow flames flicker in the dim darkness.

It wasn’t until her arrival at Camp Half-Blood did it all make sense. Y/N, the daughter of Hades, was able to control fire. Though, she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of it. It all came in random bursts and every time she walked along the crisp green grass, a trail of brightly lit flames slithered after her.

The Demeter kids hated her for ruining the plush red roses that took them weeks to nurture. Y/N could understand their fury and she did her best to avoid their plants now, especially because her fire favoured the taste of Demeter’s flowers.

A quiet knock on the wooden door interrupted Y/N’s peace. She slowly rose from the water, droplets running down her finger tips. She slowly dried herself with a soft cotton towel before slipping her bright orange shirt over her head. She slid on a pair of loosely fitting pants before turning the knob, harshly pulling the door open.

“Do you need something?” Y/N asked, frowning at the small kid in front of her. He trembled and took a nervous step back.

“Luke… he… he told me to give this to you.” The kid stretched out his hand, practically shaking as Y/N stared down at the dark red rose. A lousy gift in her opinion.

Luke was the son of Hermes and the head counsellor of his cabin. He was popular amongst the campers and girls constantly swooned over him. Y/N, on the other hand, had no interest in romance. It had always been that way ever since she was born.

Y/N was conceived into this cruel world with a cold and empty heart. Her mother thought of it as a personality disorder at first until she realized that it was just how Y/N was. No amount of love forced into her arms could change the deep anger boiling inside of her.

Y/N took the rose, peering at it and scowling. “You’ve done your job. Scram.” She shooed the young Hermes kid away, almost shoving him off her rickety wooden porch. She caught sight of Luke watching her through the clean window of his own cabin.

He had never shown much interest in her before until a year ago, where we witnessed her easily take down some of the best fighters in camp.

He grinned at her, a gesture that should have made her heart flutter. But it didn’t. Y/N silently stared at him, feeling the sudden heat rush to her fingers. She lit the rose alight and it didn’t take long until only a few crisp and blackened petals remained in her grasp.

She quickly dropped them, scattering the remains of the once beautiful flower everywhere. It acted as a constant reminder that no matter how hard Luke tried, she was simply immune to his charm.

It’s not like Y/N didn’t want to love, because she did. She saw the Aphrodite kids treating Valentine’s Day like it was some big festivals. And she noticed how many of the boys in the Apollo cabin always had their eyes glued to one of the Athena girls.

They looked at her like she was a pile of treasure; like a precious jewel. They stared at her with such admiration and adoration that Y/N felt a little jealous. How come she couldn’t love while others could?

It was probably because of the darkness lurking within her, feasting away at every small spark of happiness until it was gone, resting in the belly of the beast. Anger, jealousy, and hatred consumed her easily. And she was bitter because of it.

It was pitch black by the time Y/N collapsed on her soft mattress. She was clad in shorts and a black crop top to battle the humid weather during Summer. She was half asleep when a quiet tap and rattle woke her.

Y/N quietly groaned. She knew who was waiting by her window, wearing a spare camp t-shirt and dusty grey shorts that stopped above his knees. His tapping become quicker and sharper until Y/N had no choice but to fling the window open.

“What?” She hissed at Luke.

He always came at the same time every night. Twelve o’clock sharp in hopes of wooing her. Y/N wasn’t stupid, she knew he was after something else that wasn’t romance related but until she figured out what, she wasn’t comfortable being alone in his presence.

Luke simply smiled, resting his chin on the sill. “Walk with me?” He questioned, jabbing a thumb over his right shoulder.

“It’s past curfew.” Y/N sharply retorted, glowering at him. Beams of moonlight shone down on the pair, acting as if the world were a stage that needed to be lit. Y/N could clearly see Luke tilt his head to the side, gazing up at her through his lashes.

“It’ll be quick.” He was persistent as always.

“What part of not interested confuses you?” Y/N threw the covers back over her body, prepared to crash her head against her feathered pillow and let her eyes flutter shut.

"One walk and I'll stop annoying you for a week."

That made Y/N pause. She stared at Luke, narrowing her eyes. A week wasn't long but it was better than putting up with his presence constantly. "Okay." She slowly said, causing Luke to victoriously grin. He pumped his fist.

"If we get caught, you have to take the blame." Y/N warned Luke as she stepped out of her cabin, pointing sternly at him. He wrapped a lock of her H/C hair around his finger, standing too close to comfort.

"I'd take every blame for you." He whispered, playfully winking. Y/N rolled her eyes in reply.

"I'd let you rot in a ditch." She pushed him away, storming down the stairs of the small porch. He clicked his tongue, eyes glazing over her movements. He jogged to catch up with her, his hand brushing against her leg.

The slight breeze surrounded the two of them as Y/N glanced up at the shining stars, her eyes darting around to spot all the different constellations. Luke followed her gaze, arching an eyebrow.

"What are you staring at?" He asked, licking his chapped lips. Y/N's eyes darted to look at him before she rolled her eyes, not saying anything.

"Can't you take a hint to be quiet?" She muttered after a minute of painful silence.

"No, I can. It's a choice to annoy you." He slyly smiled, bumping Y/N with his hip. She scoffed, shoving her hand into his face.

The crickets chirped loudly as Y/N walked past them, Luke following close behind. The air was colder now and Y/N relished the feeling of it against her skin. She almost forgot the son of Hermes was with her before he cleared his throat.

"No fire following behind us?" He questioned. He was used to the flames that often licked at Y/N's ankles but never dared burn her.

"That would get us caught." Y/N retorted. She faltered for a second, "Me, I mean. It would get me caught."

Luke lowly chuckled. "Nah, too late, Blaze. You said us. So there is something between us. And here I thought you only saw me as an obnoxious idiot."

Y/N sharply clicked her tongue, glaring at him. "Don't call me Blaze. And yes, I do see you as one."

"What would you prefer then? Conflagration? Inferno? Oh, what about Holocaust?"

"I didn't even know you knew those words." Y/N uttered, blankly staring at Luke. But Blaze was surely better than being called Holocaust.

"Blaze it is." Luke slung an arm around Y/N's shoulder, carefully testing the waters. The smell of burning flesh wafted through the air and Y/N quickly shrugged Luke's arm off, panicking slightly.

"Don't touch me." She said. It was supposed to be a harsh command but it came out as more of a desperate warning. Y/N's eyes darted to Luke's burnt skin. She scowled, at both his persistence to hold her and her inability to control her angry flames. It's not like she was actively trying to hurt people. It just... happened.

"I think it's time for you to leave." She said, her voice nothing more than a whisper. "Get your arm checked."

"It's late, no Apollo kid will be awake." His sizzling flesh didn't phase him in the slightest. He had dealt with worse, far worse. Like Clarisse's spear. "Besides, I like walking with you."

"At least soak your arm in water. It'll bring down the stinging sensation as well as protect it from risk of infection." Y/N was hesitant to even get near Luke, afraid of what her ability might do lest she lost control. But Luke was fearless. He'd grip her wrist a million times, even if it meant getting burnt, just to feel her skin against his.

He was like Icarus, unrelenting in his pursuit for greatness. He adored Y/N like Icarus loved the sun; too fast and too close. In a way, Y/N was death reincarnated. Pupils so big that it was unsettling, a glare so intense it could swallow you up, and a dark grace that followed her every move. Icarus died with broken wings but a fulfilled soul, just as Luke would if it meant he could hold Y/N.

Y/N led Luke towards a small pond and dipped her hand into the cool water. It started bubbling and Y/N instantly recoiled. Luke watched her, curious.

"Why do you do that?" He asked, gaining Y/N's wavering attention.

"Do what?" She muttered, furrowing her brows in confusion. Luke lightly chuckled, staring down at the rippling water.

"The fire thing. And heating up water. Why?"

Y/N shrugged. "It's not like I do it on purpose. It's random. Heating up water is easy enough but the flames are weird. I've tried spotting a pattern but I just can't see it." Y/N held up a finger, heat rushing to the tip. A flame flickered but it wasn't like her usual orange or blue ones. It was pink.

A light pink hue reflected off Luke's face as he peered at the fire, his eyes darting to follow its wild movements. He slowly dipped his charred arm into the water, grinning at Y/N who found slight amusement in playing with the pink flame.

"You ever think your flames follow your emotions?" He piped up, tilting his head to the side.

"Excuse me?"

"Your emotions. Maybe they control your fire." He shrugged, "Your flames are usually orange but when you get angry, which happens a lot, they turn blue. And the pink... I don't know. Love?"

Y/N sneered. "Love? Who would I be in love with?" It was a ridiculous suggestion. Stupid, even. Love didn't exist in Y/N L/N's world. Luke raised his brows, silently gesturing to himself. "I'd rather kiss a dragon."

Luke reached out to touch the flame and Y/N pulled away in a panic. "Don't!" She exclaimed, but Luke's hand was already waving through the fire. It didn't hurt in the slightest and Luke smiled. Y/N's whole hand exploded into pink-toned flames and she jumped, waving her hand around until the fire went out.

"Blaze... Do your emotions... scare you?" Luke asked. Y/N lightly scoffed, glaring at Luke as she always did. A flicker of blue glazed over her E/C eyes and then it was replaced with orange which quickly shifted into pink. And it finally returned to blue before disappearing as quickly as it came.

"Your eyes... they, uh..." Luke didn't know how to describe it. "Do they... somewhat flame up a lot?"

"Ignore that." She grumbled, shielding her face from Luke's hawk-like gaze.

"You intrigue me. Why do you act so bitter all the time, Y/N?" Luke questioned, clearing his throat. She paused, lightly biting down on her bottom lip. He didn't have room to judge because despite carrying around a kind and caring facade, Luke was just as mean as her underneath it all. Y/N just... didn't bother to hide it while Luke turned his head every time his eyes darkened or his lips curled into a disgusted sneer.

"I don't have a reason. Do you ever think that maybe I'm not acting and that I was born this way? Because I'm pretty sure I was."

"There's a reason for everything."

"Okay, you want to know why?!" Y/N exclaimed, fed up with all his questions and teasing. Luke calmly gestured her to continue.

"I hate them. I hate the deities above who call themselves our godly parents. They are just as fucked up as us, if not more. I mean, what were they thinking? Fucked up people give birth to fucked up kids. They underestimate us and abandon us and still think that we'll worship the ground they walk on. If I'm being honest, I don't think they love us. My father... Hades... he had an opportunity to save me from the abuse my mother was inflicting on me."

Luke's facial expression softened. His eyes locked with Y/N's angry ones and for a split second, he saw himself in her. A demigod desperate to prove themselves to their parent only to be disappointed.

"And you know what was worse? I saw him. I met him. He came to our house one day and I didn't know it was him in that moment but after I got here, it all made sense. The man who randomly showed up on the doorstep all those years ago and acted like he knew everything about me... was my father. The same man who dumped me in the horrible care of my mother. Hades, the supposedly only God who loved his half-blood child, actually abandoned her when he had the choice to take her with him."

"I get what you mean." Luke muttered, shifting closer to her. She didn't stop him. "I feel abandoned too. My dad, he did something similar. I agree with you when you say that the gods don't love us... because I don't think they do either. We're just... their pawns. You see this scar?"

Luke's finger trailed over the scar that adorned the side of his face. "My father... he gave me a quest that Hercules had already completed. I didn't want to do something someone else had already done but I thought, how hard could it be? And I failed it... I failed the quest. And some stupid dragon scratched me and gave me this scar."

"I don't get why they think we're expendable." Y/N's hands clenched into fists and she clicked her tongue. She turned to Luke, flinching at how close he was all of a sudden.

It all happened too quickly. One second Y/N's lips accidently brushed against Luke's and the next the whole field around the pond burst into a flood of pink flames. Y/N and Luke stood in front of Chiron, hands clasped behind them. Luke stared at the ground in shame while Y/N wasn't scared to look Chiron in the eye.

"You not only snuck out past curfew, which is breaking rules, but Miss Y/N, you also burned a fellow camper and set flames to the grass."

"Chiron, sneaking out past curfew was my idea." Luke, as promised, took responsibility for his actions. "And she can't control her fire and I provoked her so I deserved it anyway." Luke shrugged.

"That still doesn't excuse your behavior. I expect you to clean all the sword before the Ares kids mess them all up again."

Y/N scoffed under her breath. "This is all your fault. I can't believe I snuck out with you of all people." Y/N poked his shoulder and a small pink flame danced across his shirt before dissolving into thin air.

"Pink means love." Luke teased.

"I will burn you again." Y/N threatened, stomping on his foot.

"Hey, you wouldn't burn your ranting partner so soon, would you?" He grinned.

Y/N didn't want to admit it but she did share a lot of similarities with Luke. From their hatred for the gods to the feeling of being abandoned. "Talking with you wasn't entirely terrible." She muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Thanks, Blaze." He gently grasped her hand, pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckle. Y/N jumped and everything went up in flames again. Literally. "Y/N... Y/N, you're on fire. You are on fire!" But it didn't hurt. The flames wrapped around her like a comforting blanket as Luke stared at her in both awe and confusion. "It's kinda cool actually. It looks like you're glowing." Luke chuckled while she glared at him, wildly trying to pat the pink fire out.

"Come on, just admit you like me, Blaze. Even just a little bit. You find me pretty, don't you?"

"I do not!" Y/N exclaimed, the flames growing stronger. Luke teasingly raised his brows, staring at her with a knowing smirk. She scoffed, spinning around.

"See ya later, Blaze!" Luke called out as she stormed away. She turned around, deeply scowling at him.

"Shut up!" She shouted, a glowing trail of fire following after her and burning its way through the grass. Campers squealed at the sight, jumping out of the way.

Luke chuckled to himself, watching when Y/N sneered at a young Apollo boy. "She's so cute." He muttered to himself, shaking his head in amusement.

From the window, Chiron sighed at the familiar sight of Y/N's fire. "She's getting stronger." He said, frowning.

"So? At least her pink flames are harmless, unlike her blue ones. And don't get me started on that huge blowup she had last year. I didn't even know black flames existed until she blew up! More like exploded!" Mr D scoffed, shivering at the memory of Y/N's black flames. It was like a massive bomb went off.

Chiron was silent for a moment until he looked at Mr D. "She likes Luke." He quickly said.

Mr D instantly sat up, slamming his hand against the table in front of him. "Oh, yeah, definitely! I started shipping those two ever since they started bickering. Catch up, Chiron!"

TAG LIST : @lostinhisworld @julielightwood @outerbanks-stuff @jennapancake @csifandom @evrybodydies1 @kkrenae @s0ulsniper @annispamz @justanotherkpopstanlol @soraya-09 @simpforeveyone @papichulo120627 @corpsebridenightamare @lilacspider @prettylilsimp @urmomsbananabread @ur-lacol-dsylexic @hottiewifeyyyy @kamiliora @be-bap @finnickodaddy @th0tblckgrl @shoyofroyoyoyo @uniquely-her @imafrkinsimp @syraxesrevenge @ahh-chickens @dracoslovergirl @midnightstar-90 @8812-342 @liv1104 @krkiiz @arialikestea @ch16rles @lizziesliz @maryclx01 @lukecastellandefender @yuminako @coryoskywalker @julielightwood @crybabysbakery @jsbaby @liviessun @p3pperm1nttea @angie-esc @purplerose291 @prettylilsimp @10ava01 @froggiesstalks @happy-jj @czennieszn @gisellesprettylies @loveyava @csifandom @luvvfromme @mashiromochi @kamiliora @yorksyree @mqg125 @jamesmackreideswife

[some-bunniii]

Consoling Lucifer on Charlie’s first day of school

・❥ Charlie’s growing up, and Lucifer isn’t taking it well. Luckily, you’re there to keep the King of Hell standing on two feet.

x: just a short fic about a super soft lucifer who loves his daughter, i had some fun with this haha. reader is g/n and also has a parental role. no use of y/n.

~ 1.5k words

warning: tooth-rotting parental love

“Are you crying, Daddy?” The tiny apple-cheeked figure asked, her head tilted curiously up towards the almost identical-looking porcelain face standing a few feet away from her, his hand over his eyes as he rubbed at them feverishly. 

“No,” He lied, his lips curved into a tight-lipped smile as he bit back tears, “It’s just allergies, Apple Pie.”

Lucifer’s eyes trailed back onto the poofy red dress Charlie wore. The intricate, black lines and little hearts woven into its soft fabric made her even more adorable in the outfit. She also sported snow-white stockings, and a pair of sparkly red shoes that glinted in the light as Charlie smiled giddily, excited about the new adventure.

A small red bowtie was nestled into her hair, which was styled in a large braid that ended at the middle of her back. It swayed softly as the young girl bounced in place, becoming antsy by the second. 

You stood right beside him, smiling happily at Charlie as she looked up at the two of you. It was you who had gotten her ready, no doubt did you think she looked like a beautiful little princess. However, you were not expecting such an emotional reaction from your husband, Lucifer Morningstar, when you presented her outfit to him. 

It was Charlie’s first day of lessons, which means—in Lucifer’s opinion—she was finally leaving the nest. Except for the fact she was still considered just a youngling when it came to being Hellborn, and Charlie still needed her father to read her a story every night before bed. She still has trouble reaching items on the counter, and remembering all the letters of the alphabet. She was far from flying off on her own, she was still her father’s little duckling.

He was already nervous the days leading up to this morning, and you had watched him flip through baby book after baby book. Each contains hundreds of photos depicting from when Charlie was a newborn, and through last Sunday. 

Whenever Charlie so much and breathed cutely, Lucifer was pulling out that camera and saving it for the album. Especially when he got a hold of a yellow duck onesie? The man was a goner, and the bookshelf was beginning to fill with rows of binders filled with polaroids.

Yesterday, you had been in the process of cleaning out a closet of rarely used items, when you stumbled upon a pair of Charlie’s old baby boots. 

Lucifer had just walked into the room when his eyes landed on the tiny boots. They obviously wouldn’t fit the girl now, as she had grown out of them long ago. It definitely stirred something inside the fallen angel when his lip began to quiver from the doorway, and slowly walked over to you sitting on the edge of the bed.

He took the boots from your hands, his thumb brushing softly over the small velcro straps. Charlie was old enough to start wearing laces, and she needed his help getting tying her shoes less and less as the months went by. That thought made him collapse onto you, tears brimming his eyes. 

“She had such adorable little feet!” Lucifer wailed in your lap, as you soothingly petted his hair. There were multiple photos in his hands, all of baby Charlie, “Her toes just don’t look like little sausages anymore, it’s not as cute!”

“At least she’s not a hobbit,” you replied, brushing a stray tear from his face.

“I don’t even know what that means!” He had sobbed.

It wasn’t like she was going off to college or anything, yet the way Lucifer clutched her baby blanket in his free hand—which she only stopped sleeping with 2 days ago—made it seem like the girl was not coming back from a few hours of teachings. 

“I packed you some snacks. Apple slices, and some funnel cake. Eat the fruit first, it’s healthy for you. Want to grow up big and strong, don’t you?” 

“Uh-huh!” Charlie nodded with enthusiasm, smiling brightly.

“That’s my girl,” Lucifer choked back tears, nodding approvingly. 

“Honey, she’s going to be late, hurry up and say goodbye,” you prodded gently, smiling warmly with clasped hands. You had been silently on standby, this was a much more emotional moment for Lucifer than you, he needed the space and time with his munchkin.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he growled softly at himself, “look at me, all worked up over nothing. What a joke of a King.”

Lucifer lowered himself to one knee and reached out a hand, and Charlie walked forward returning the touch. Her tiny hands were engulfed in his palm as he curled his fingers tenderly around them. The fallen angel met his daughter's gaze, before taking a deep breath.

“I love you, Charlie.” 

“I love you too, Daddy,” Charlie laughed, before leaping forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. Lucifer pulled her in, nuzzling into her hair as she squeezed him tightly. 

Even if Charlie grew apart from her father as she got older, you’d know she’d always be a daddy’s girl. It was Lucifer whom she invited for tea time among her stuffed animals, and it was he she asked to dance with when the radio’s soft melodies filled the lounge during the evenings as the three of you relaxed by the warm fireplace. 

It made your heart flutter with how similar the two were, and the way Lucifer fawned over Charlie like he’d never seen a more beautiful soul. 

“My best creation,” he had whispered with a smile one night, while the two of you were sitting on the balcony, the alcohol buzzing inside your mind as you held his hand from across the small table. Those words had made your love for him continue to grow, if that were even possible in the first place.

Lucifer and Charlie stayed locked in an embrace for a few moments on the floor before the girl released him, and Lucifer’s arms slowly lowered from her abdomen as she took a few steps back towards the door.

“Go on, now! Don’t let me keep you waiting, just remember to crush it.” Lucifer waved his daughter off, and she jumped with joy.

“Okay! Bye, Daddy!” Charlie giggled, her little red dress bouncing along with her toes as she quickly turned away towards the open door of her room. 

“Have fun, Charlie!” You called after her, as Lucifer slowly rose from his position near the floor.

“I will! Bye!” She replied, running down the hall, her little bag bouncing in her hands as she scampered away to…

…her private tutor’s small classroom at the end of the long hallway. The three of you had been wishing the girl farewell in her large bedroom inside the family manor, which meant Charlie’s teaching wasn't even outside of the home. 

That made Lucifer’s reaction even more humorous, but it was also incredibly sweet. The ruler of Hell, a nasty, bitter place, was a cinnamon roll behind the bad-boy act that he played so well in front of the rest of the realm.

When Lucifer stood straight again, you turned your head to face him. The sight before you caused you to clamp your lips shut tight, trying to suppress your laughter at Lucifer’s disheveled figure.

His hair looked messier than before he had said goodbye, and his face was soaked with tears. Lucifer’s lip quivered, and he quickly averted his gaze, slamming his hand over his face to contain his quiet sobs. The man was practically in shambles. 

“What’s wrong with me?” He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face, “I can’t control my emotions when it comes to Charlie.”

“Sorry to break it to you, Your Highness, but you’re in love,” you cooed, shaking your head with a smile as Lucifer sniffled beside you. He pulled a hand-embroidered handkerchief from his waistcoat, dabbing underneath his eyes to clean the fresh tears. 

“Come on, Lou. How about I make you some pancakes for breakfast?” You said softly, lacing your fingers with his as you tugged him towards the opposite end of the hall. 

“Really?” He sniffled, looking at you with glistening eyes.

“Mhmm,” your hands lifted to cup his face, tenderly squishing those small red spots as you replied with a honeyed tone, “Heaven knows how the ‘Big Boss of Hell’ can be such a softy. Don’t worry, Charlie will be back by lunchtime, and maybe we’ll go on a picnic, hm?”

Your free hand went up toward the fallen angel’s head, and your nails softly grazed his scalp as you pulled his hair back into a more uniform appearance. After fussing with it for a moment, you leaned in and placed a tender kiss on his forehead.

“A picnic sounds nice, I have no idea how you always have a remedy to everything,” He said softly as you pulled away, an adoring smile on his lips as you turned to tug him down the hall.

“Years of practice,” you laughed, as the two of you walked towards the large kitchen, passing loving glances between the other. 

At least, with Charlie away for a few hours, you and your husband could get some alone time together. God knows the poor man needed it. 

lucifer is just so soft for his little princess whether it’s beating the shit out of adam or playing tea party it makes me just 🤭🥴 like damn

hope you enjoyed the lil snack, have a great day! 🤍

tags 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0

[cozywolvie]

hii, i was wondering if u could do a fic of logan nd wade with a sunshine reader ^_^ like an overly happy and energetic person ig. IF THAT MAKES SENSE LOL. i don’t see too many fanfics with sunshine readers… or at least when i look. not sure if u have gotten many requests yet but hopefully this isn’t a bother to u!! u can add smut or smth if u want. u seem super cool and hopefully u have a fun time writing this if u do :3 have a great day or night!!

a/n: yayy! my first request! thank you sm for requesting and you are not a bother at all. I really hope this is somewhat of what you wanted. this is straight fluff and cuteness, so I hope you enjoy!

-

You have always been a morning person. You loved watching the sky turn different shades of yellow and orange as the sun rose, and you loved having a cup of coffee while watching it. However, your boyfriends couldn’t disagree more with you.

Here you are, laid out on the back porch, wearing one of Logan’s plaid flannels, baking in the rising sunlight as it goes over the horizon. A warm cup of coffee is settled in between your fingers, and you grip it tightly, loving the warmth it gave you on this crisp morning.

While you laid out here, Wade and Logan lay inside sound asleep in your shared king size bed. They always love to tease you about your chirpiness and happiness, especially in the morning. They couldn’t get around the fact that they both were somehow able to fall in love with a person so opposite of them, especially Logan.

It was around 10 am when you started to hear the two men stir. You were in the kitchen, humming, flipping pancakes on the stove. Logan emerged first from the bedroom, wearing a pair of sweats that hung low on his waist, a flannel hung along his shoulders, underneath was bare, and you tired not to gawk at his figure. He smirks when you see’s you. “Smells good.” He compliments, walking around to your side and placing a long kiss on your temple. You smile, practically leaning into his tender embrace.

“Good morning” You beam back at him. You loved mornings like this, calm, peaceful, anything to get away from the stress of Wade and Logan's crime fighting careers. You offer him coffee, which he leaves black, and sits down at the kitchen table. You continue to hum in content, even dancing to nothing in the kitchen, enjoying the sizzling of the pancake batter on the stove. There was just pure joy and happiness radiating off of you. Logan smiles at the sight.

“Good morning bubbles!” The sound of your other boyfriend radiates the room. Logan groans in discomfort at the loud sound, plugging his ears closed. You giggle at Wade’s nickname. Awhile ago when you three had gotten together, Wade had referred to the three of you were like the powerpuff girls. You, bubbles, because you were always bubbly. Buttercup, Logan, which is pretty self explanatory. And Wade, Blossom, because he claims that he was the captain of your little team.

“Good morning Wade.” You give him peck on the lips, and hand him his coffee, with a shit ton of creamer and four sugars, he loves things sweet. He takes a sip and nods approvingly. “Ah, sweet! Just like my girl.” He gives your behind a cheeky slap and you giggle, swatting him away playfully.

You all sit at the table, munching down on pancakes. Wade drowns his in syrup and Logan cringes at the sight. “You’re gonna get diabetes if you keep doing that.” Logan scowls.

“I already got cancer, I’ll take my chances.” Wade says back, shoving pancakes in his mouth. You grin, rolling your eyes at the pair. Logan eyes your cup of coffee. “Which number cup is that?” He teases.

“My forth.” You grin, taking a sip. Logan chuckles, shaking his head in amusement, “No wonder you’re always so energetic.”

"Nah, it's just the way our girl is." Wade says, sending a wink your way. You grin and try to hide your blush. "I have no reason to be anything else. I've got a good life, a roof over my head, and two incredibly amazing sexy men who are in love with me." You giggle with a wink, watching as both the men smile, making your heart warm.

"About that, thank you." Logan states. You crinkle your brows in confusion, not knowing what he is thanking you for. He see's your confusion, stumbling over his words, becoming flustered. "Well, uh, ya'know-"

"What peanut is trying to say is, that we are grateful for you. You're the light in our lives that we both needed." Wade states, grabbing your hand from across the table. You can't even contain the blush on your cheeks now. If anything, you should be thanking them.

"I'm the grateful one." You say. The boys smile, showering you in love and kisses. The rest of the day is spent with the three of you relaxing in your free time, cuddled up by the two men you love most, all three of your laughters echoing around the small cozy apartment.

[thornsnvultures]

syrup & honey

eddie munson x plus size!fem!reader

summary: eddie needs a place to stay on Halloween night and your window's always open

cw: 18+ nsft, smut, vampire!eddie, afab!reader, flirty!eddie, oral (fem rec), breast play, fingering, p in v sex, blood drinking, creampie, cheesy fluff, steve makes a background appearance as eddie's blood dealer of sorts, 2.7k words

"Can't sleep?"

Eddie's voice is quiet, just barely heard over the rain pouring outside. You look up from your book at your open window. Eddie's perched on the sill, his long, black coat is drenched and dripping on the floor.

"C'mon in Eddie," you sigh, closing your book. You turn on the lamp next to your bed, soft yellow light filling the small space. Eddie happily jumps in and makes for your bathroom where he sheds his coat, dropping it in the tub with a wet splat. At least he has the sense to not throw it over your couch. Again.

When Eddie appears again he's shirtless and you can't help but roll your eyes. He's rubbing at his damp curls with one of your towels, his lithe muscles bunching and stretching. He's flexing on purpose.

"Why are you here?"

"What, I can't drop in and say 'hi'?" Eddie tosses the used towel in your hamper across the room and plops down on the chair by your bed. Your studio apartment feels so much smaller when Eddie's here, all stretched out on your bargain furniture. "It's Halloween, babe. You should be out partying. With me." Eddie grins and his teeth flash in the light of a sudden lightning strike.

"It's miserable out there, Eddie. I'm not getting all dressed up in a slutty little costume just to get cold and wet," you huff, pulling your comforter up over your tits. You shouldn't have said slutty. Shouldn't have taken your bra off either. You knew Eddie would stop by, it's why you left the window open. But now you were cold and you felt... exposed under his hungry gaze. The way he looked at you in your sleepshirt, like he was picturing you in an assortment of terrible costumes that left nothing to the imagination.

"I'm sure I could've warmed you up, honey," Eddie practically purrs, leaning forward on his chair, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him like it's the only thing keeping him from reaching out and grabbing you.

"What you can do is sleep on the couch. Just close the curtains before you lay down."

"Right," Eddie chuckles and leans back on the chair. "Wouldn't want you to wake up to a pile of ash on your couch. It'd take you weeks to vacuum it all up." Eddie bites his lip with one long canine. "Are you sure I can't help keep you warm, honey? You look awfully cold."

"You never closed the window. And this is a twin bed. Not happening."

"So if I got you a king sized you'd let me in?"

"Not what I said," you shook your head.

"How 'bout a queen? A full? It'll be full of us, that's for sure." Eddie slams the window shut and winks at you and suddenly you're not so sure letting him stay the night was the best idea. You feel claustrophobic with that window shut tight.

"The only thing that's full is you. Full of yourself."

"Oooh, good one, honey." Eddie plops down at the foot of your bed. You move your feet out of the way just in time before he flops backwards and crushes them. Eddie stretches out like a cat, groaning long and loud.

"Eddie quit it," you kick him with your foot. "You're getting my sheets all wet."

"Not the first time these sheets have been wet though, huh?"

"Oh my god, Eddie, shut up." The pillow at your side bounces off his stupid grinning face when you chuck it at him. "I was trying to be nice when you asked for a place to stay for the night. If I knew you were gonna be a little shit about it, I would've said no."

"C'mon, honey," Eddie pouts, sitting up. "We've been friends for how long and this is how you treat me?"

"Eddie, I've only known you for a month!"

"Exactly! And look at how close we've gotten in such a short time," Eddie smirks as he crawls up the bed. You can't take your eyes off his, bright red and glowing. How his teeth shine in the moonlight like pearls. Before you know it, Eddie's knees are bracketing your hips, caging you in with his arms, with you flat on your back.

"Eddie," you caution. "What are you doing?"

You gasp when Eddie leans down and presses his nose to your jaw, nudging it and turning your face so he can breathe you in. You feel him shudder, his hair still dripping around your face. Eddie presses a kiss to your jugular, just light enough that you're not sure if you imagined it. But then he does it again. And again.

"Let me taste you," Eddie whispers into your skin. "I know you'll taste so sweet."

"Eddie," you push at his chest like you don't want this, like you're not aching to feel the hot, wet suction of his mouth on your skin. Like you haven't been dying to know what it was like since Steve introduced the two of you at his bar downtown, the one Eddie was trying to get you to go to tonight.

"Don't make me beg, honey," Eddie groans and licks a stripe up your thundering pulse. "I promise I'll be gentle."

Your grip on your blanket loosens with every soft kiss and lick Eddie presses to your skin. When you arch up into his touch you ask yourself if you're really doing this, letting him touch you like this. You've never... been with someone like Eddie. Before you met him all you knew of his kind was violence, stories you hear on the news, homicidal maniacs and sex perverts. Eddie was one of those two for sure, but he'd never hurt anyone. Not unless they asked. Were you asking? Would you let him just like you let him in?

It seemed your body was answering for you, slick between your thighs, nipples pebbled in the cool air. It was October and your super still hadn't turned the heat on. Without your thick blanket the room would be unbearable, but you could barely feel it. Eddie was radiating heat. He tore the blanket off of you and you could feel it everywhere. Every inch of him surrounds you like a balm to soothe your goosebumps away.

He must've fed before he came here. You hoped it was from the secret bar stock and not one of Steve's other patrons. Though, why that bothered you so much you didn't know. Eddie didn't owe you that. You weren't his. He just wanted to play with you, roll around in your sheets for the night. See if you tasted as sweet as his nickname for you. And you were fine with that, really you were.

You gasped as Eddie tugged up your sleep shirt, his warm hands traveling up your hips to your waist.

"Can I?"

You're moving your body before the word "yes" even falls from your lips. Eddie pulls your shirt all the way off and he's on you before it even hits the floor, kissing down your neck, to your chest. His fangs lightly scrape your skin, scratching at you like a cat pawing at a closed door, begging to be let in.

Eddie takes your nipples in his mouth, flicking his tongue over one tight bud before moving to the other until you're writhing under him. Your hips lift with every nibble and tug, grinding against the obvious bulge in his too tight jeans.

"Eddie, please," you tug at his hair, unsure of what you're begging for. You just need more, something harder and faster before you scream.

"Shhh, I got you." Eddie's warm hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing your spit slick peaks as he kisses you. He's careful not to knick you with his teeth, all lips and tongue, devouring you in a way you didn't expect him to tonight. Not that you were hoping for him to- who are you kidding? You've wanted him since the first night you saw him.

You're panting when Eddie pulls away, inching down your body, mapping out a trail of kisses and bites along the way. The groan that rips from his chest when he pulls your panties down stops you from instinctively trying to close your legs. You're nervous, being looked at like that. Like Eddie's a cartoon dog and you're a pie someone left on a window sill. But his hands push your thighs open. You want to let him in, need to let him in, so you let him spread you wide. He kisses your thighs, up to your knee and back down again on both sides until you're begging again. You can feel his warm breath on your center, your head thrown back as your hips roll, trying to entice him to just put his mouth on you already.

"You're so pretty, honey. Knew you'd be pretty," Eddie mumbles, more to himself than you, and kisses your clit. He rubs it with his tongue, delicious little flicks that have you gasping and tugging on his hair.

"So fucking wet for me," Eddie groans and spears you open on his tongue. And, god, yes you are. Soaking his face when he slips a thick finger into your cunt, dragging an orgasm, then another, out of you with his mouth suckling on your clit.

Those big red eyes of his stare up at you, watching you as you cum, shaking and gasping for air, your whole body seizing. Eddie's fingers work you through each one, not stopping until you're pushing him away, begging him for a break. His face is soaked in your slick, dripping from his chin.

"Did so good for me."

You sigh as Eddie kisses your thighs, still watching you. His pussy soaked fingers reach up to tweak your nipple, grinning when you gasp.

"Can you be good for me again? I know I just ate," Eddie winks and you roll your eyes, too sapped of energy to smack him. "But those blood bags Steve keeps stocked for me aren't enough. I need the real thing."

Your tummy flutters. He didn't feed from anyone else tonight. It shouldn't make you feel giddy but it does. You nod your head pulling Eddie closer to you by your legs around his back.

"If I'm letting you bite me, then I need you inside me, Eddie."

"Fuck. Yes, anything you need, honey, I'll give it to you." Eddie fumbles with his pants, chucking them off a little too hard when they get stuck on his foot.

You laugh when he pounces on you again, settling between your thighs. He peppers your face with kisses and you can still smell yourself all over him but you don't care. Your laughs turn into moans as Eddie ruts against you, his cock sliding between your folds, bumping against your sensing clit.

Eddie sits up on his knees, dick in hand as he tap, tap, taps the head on your clit.

"Can I come inside?" Eddie smirks.

"You're so dumb," you laugh. "Fuck me already, Eddie."

Eddie smiles, one fang catching on his lip, as he slides in. You try to relax as Eddie eases his way in. He's not crazy long but he's thick and he knows it, taking his time stretching you out inch by inch.

"Oh fuck," you shout when Eddie rubs at your clit to help ease you open.

"That's it, honey. Take it all. I know you can. Look at that pretty, little pussy swallowing me up. Fuck," Eddie groans. "Once I'm all the way in, I'll take what I need. I don't think I'm gonna last, honey. Squeezing me so fucking tight."

Eddie's so focused on your pussy, you just stare at him. Your eyes lidded and hazy, you can't help but wish it could be like this all the time. Like he could be yours. All sweaty and shiny in the moonlight. Pale skin and tattoos and strong fingers that know just how and where to touch you like he was born to do it.

Finally you feel it, his hips meeting yours, and you swear you've never felt this full in your life. It sits in your chest, telling you that this feels so, so right.

Eddie lays flush with your body, not crushing you, just holding, rolling his hips into you with delicious little thrusts that send shockwaves up your spine.

"Relax for me," Eddie whispers as he kisses down your jaw. He tilts your head to the left, your jugular exposed. He kisses you there over and over until finally you feel his mouth open wide, his hot breath on your neck. It's quick, the pain. You only feel it for a flash before it's gone and then you feel nothing but ecstacy. You come with a shout, clenching around Eddie's cock and clawing at his back, leaving trails of red on his pale skin. It's like nothing you've felt before, but at the same time you have. You've felt his lips, his tongue, working your clit, sucking your folds, drinking every drop of your juices, and it feels much the same. Devouring you. His tongue lapping up everything, drinking you deep until he's groaning into your flesh.

"Cum inside me, Eddie," you plead, as Eddie's thrusts get sloppier, more frantic. "Please, Eddie."

Eddie pulls off your throat and cums with a shout, burying his face in your shoulder as his cock kicks, his balls emptying inside you in wave after wave.

Eddie stays there as you rub his back. You almost don't want him to pull out. He's tenderly licking your neck, stopping the flow of blood before it ruins your sheets.

"You taste so fucking good," Eddie groans.

"Which? Pussy or blood?"

"Both," he sobs dramatically into your chest. Eddie sits up and smiles at you, licking his lips. His chin is covered in a mix of blood and pussy. It's a little disturbing, but honestly, not as bad as you thought it would be. You shudder when he pulls his softening cock free, feeling his release ooze out.

"Fuck that's a lot of cum," Eddie says in awe. You whine and bat his arm away when he tries to push it back inside.

"S-stop, too much."

Eddie uses the same towel he used earlier to clean the both of you off and washes his face in the bathroom sink and closes your heavy curtains before coming back to you.

"Thank you, honey," he hands you a bottle of water and slides in behind you, pulling you to his chest. "You ok?"

"Just a little sore."

"Thanks for letting me in," Eddie says as he snuggles in closer. "And I don't just mean-"

"I know," you laugh and elbow him in the ribs.

"I want to keep seeing you," he says.

"As friends?"

"Is that what you want?"

You think of Eddie waking around your apartment, being here when you get home from work, reading in bed with him at night, going to Steve's together. It's not going to be easy with his... schedule but,

"No, I want you. I want... us. You drive me crazy, but I like being with you, Eddie. I don't want this to be a one time thing. Or friends with benefits."

You roll over and look at his deep, red eyes.

"Do you want me too, Eddie? For more than just, this," you wave your hand between the two of you.

"Of course I do," Eddie takes your head in his hands and kisses you. "If you said no I'd still come over here and bug the shit outta you until you said yes," he grins.

"Creeping at my window at 2am?"

"Like you weren't up touching yourself waiting for me," Eddie teased, nipping at the tip of your nose. "I saw what you were reading before I came in."

"Oh please," you push at his chest, your face heating. Eddie wobbles, nearly going off the side of your twin. He catches himself, cackling because he's right.

"Next time I come knocking on your window you can give me a show, yeah? Or you could come out with me to Steve's and we can defile his storage closet. Maybe the bathrooms."

"Shut up!" You laugh hitting Eddie's chest as he tugs you close.

"You've thought about it haven't you," Eddie kisses your cheeks, your jaw.

"Don't start, Eddie," you gasp as he licks the tender flesh where he bit you.

"I'm not starting," Eddie shrugs and pushes you onto your back. "I'm continuing. Never said I was done with you."

~~~

~~

~

🖤🎃 happy halloween!!<<

[an-idyllic-novelist]

qin shi huang with yoriichi tsugikuni!fem!reader headcanons

warnings: spoilers from manga, ooc, slow burn friends-to-lovers troupe

Special thanks to @onecantsimply, @yellow-snark and @thatstrangesheep for their feedback and help with these headcanons! Enjoy! :)

Even in death, Qin Shi Huang was an emperor whom everyone respected as the ‘king who began everything’. He had reunited the annexed nations of China, a guiding light who led his people bringing peace and prosperity after almost a millennium of strife. Now, within the vast afterlife known as Valhalla, he reigned over a substantial amount of territory alongside his successors, working as a cohesive council when conflict arose.

Today, however, he has come to handle the problem on his own terms. For the last two months, men, women, and even children have gone missing from the foot of the northeastern mountains. Given the harsh environment, it is not too odd to believe that the cause of their disappearance might be an attack from a wild animal, angering the spirits who guard the terrain, or just simply got lost.

But the disemboweled bodies told the emperor a different story: there is a beast devouring his people, and it is certainly not a bear. For a split moment, Qin Shi Huang feared that Chi You had somehow returned from beyond its miserable grave and had come back to take revenge on the ‘insolent whelp’ who would not bow before its bony knees as payment for being accepted as an emperor of China.

If that were truly the case, though, there would be more corpses strewn about the mountain base than the current number of victims. Qin Shi Huang had already defeated the god, and he will do it again to protect his subjects. Such is the road he leads as an emperor, after all~.

So imagine his surprise when he comes across a six-armed being with pasty skin and glowing golden sclera, hunched over the corpse of a man cradling his child. It was not Chi You, but a demon. A demon that was the stuff of legends many years ago, only for them to suddenly vanish and become nothing more than a bedtime story to keep children from sneaking off at night.

And now, here is the great emperor, face-to-face with this drooling beast. Qin Shi Huang frowned, bending his sinewy body into an offensive position. Just when he was about to launch an attack, his opponent’s head rolled off its shoulders. He blinked, watching the demon’s body collapse onto the grass, twitching rapidly before disintegrating into dust. Hm? He hadn’t even moved! Unless the presence of an emperor is that powerful before a demon that it self destructs?

“Are you all right?” Qin Shi Huang then saw a figure standing where the demon had been, sword unsheathed. At first glance, she seemed like an ordinary traveler by the way she dressed, but the emperor knew that she was certainly not an ordinary person. Not from the tremendous amount of chi circulating around this woman’s body and the sword fastened at her waist.

She was a warrior as Chun Yan had been.

He grinned. “Hao!”

[Eye Color] orbs blinked at him in confusion, tilting her head to the side as she repeated the word. “Does that mean…you are hurt?”

Zori sandals stomped against the bloodied soil as she strode over to him, astounding Qin Shi Huang with her agility. She frowned slightly, her eyes scanning over his body. “You…are all right, it appears.” She glanced up at him. “I…apologize if I had gotten…your clothes dirty. You are a young lord, yes?”

Qin Shi Huang frowned. “Buhao.”

“Hm?”

He raised his right hand, pressing his middle and index fingers together before he pointed them towards the ground, the golden nail guards glowing beneath the moonlight. “Humble yourself. You are in the presence of an emperor. Be grateful I have not executed you for your impudence.”

“You…are an emperor?”

That was how the greatest emperor in all of Chinese history crossed paths with the greatest Demon Slayer in history, the Mother of All Breathing Techniques, the Sun Hashira [First Name] [Last Name].

In your defense, you never would have guessed that the man who had been endangered moments ago had not been a feudal lord looking for trouble in these woods, but an emperor who had come to kill the demon devouring his people.

You did apologize for being rude, and politely asked His Imperial Majesty if there was a town close by. You lived deep in the mountains, though in the opposite direction of his territory. It would take about two days to return should you leave now. That was only if you were lucky enough to not come across any more demons on your journey back home.

To your surprise, this emperor all but commanded you to follow him to his palace. He boasted that it was the largest one in Valhalla, with the finest food and rooms available for only esteemed guests and members of his court. However, since you did humble yourself before him, he will make an exception and allow a weary traveler to stay in the guest quarters for the night. You thanked him, trailing after the man through the woods to the crowded streets of a bustling city and right up the stone footsteps of an extravagant palace the likes of which you had never seen before.

You dared to say that it was much bigger than the Ubuyashiki compound.

With a clap of his jeweled hands, a group of young maidens in flowing robes appeared before him. He ordered them to make sure you received the most excellent care, including running a warm bath and mending your damaged clothes. Before you could have a moment to say something, you were immediately whisked away to another part of the palace until dinner was ready.

The food was just as extravagant as the clothes that the maidens had dressed you in. It was almost too much, but you dared to not insult your host. Instead, you bowed your head to him in gratitude and ate as much as you could without being too rude. Thankfully you could recall some of your table manners from when you had been alive, before becoming a Hashira and just the daughter of a prestigious household in the Sengoku era.

Between the raucous laughter and idle chatter amongst the others who dined at this table, you had almost expected to be asked to leave or escorted out of the banquet hall so that the emperor could speak to his fellow countrymen freely without the presence of an outsider.

Instead, His Imperial Majesty asked you many questions. Who you are, why were you in the woods, how did you defeat the demon, etc. You answered them to the best of your ability, humbly explaining that you had once been a Demon Slayer and trained to exterminate the ones who came out at night to consume human flesh. There is nothing special about you.

You had simply worked hard, protected humanity until your untimely death. There was no need for him to know of your ability to see the Transparent World, much less the Breathing Techniques of a Demon Slayer.

Some secrets were meant to be just that: secrets. And you were bad at explaining things; it had been a miracle that the Hashiras, those whom you had worked alongside all those years ago, could comprehend your words and adapt the Sun Breathing techniques into their own variations: Water, Insect, Flame, Wind, Stone, and so forth.

Again the emperor surprised you; he seemed intrigued by the Breathing Styles and continued to ask questions about how to use it until the handmaidens escorted you to the guest quarters later that night, although His Imperial Majesty wished to keep speaking even in a drunken stupor.

The following morning, you thanked the emperor for his hospitality and left the palace. An armed entourage followed you out to the city’s borders to make sure you would not try to attack His Imperial Majesty nor the citizens. You thanked them for their vigilance and hard work before beginning the journey towards your humble home.

You were certain that this was the first and only time you would come across royalty and thought nothing of it in the days that went by upon returning, weeks becoming almost two months since the demon attack. You would either be tending to the crops or practicing your swordsmanship. Eventually, it was time for you to venture down from the mountains to restock on your supplies.

The villagers who lived at the mountain’s edge were kind people. Some of them were elderly and required assistance with manual labor or errands. You did not mind helping them, and were quite hesitant to accept anything from them, especially rice or other precarious commodities.

Most were merchants who traveled a great distance from the village to the city to sell their wares. How could you even consider taking that away from them? To your dismay, they were quite stubborn and practically shoved it in your hands.

The ‘payment’ from the villagers, including the usual amount of items you purchased from the vendors, became too much for you to carry without making two trips up and down the mountain.

You were almost considering having to borrow a cart when a voice called out to you.

Turning around, your eyes widened in shock at the appearance of the emperor Qin Shi Huang walking down the muddied main road, flanked by four or five armed soldiers. He recognized you immediately, almost running with a wide grin on his face.

He’d been wanting to continue his conversation with you, yet due to his workload in the palace prevented him from venturing out sooner. You had also been difficult to track down as no one seemed to be aware that a Demon Slayer wearing hanafuda earrings existed in Valhalla except for a young whelp and his little sister living in the floating cities alongside the Valkyries.

But now, he’s here and ready to chat~. You should be grateful he had traveled such a long way to visit. He is an emperor after all. He was willing to help carry the supplies up the mountains if it meant he had an opportunity to challenge you to a fight and idly chatter over drinks.

Upon explaining that you did not drink alcohol, the emperor told you not to fret. He’s come prepared. Revealing a large jug of corked liquor in his hand with a wide grin, you realized that he would not go away even if you politely asked him too.

So with great reluctance, you guided Qin and his entourage up the mountains, some of them carrying your supplies.

A peaceful day became chaotic. And from this single afternoon of idle chatter and sparring with an incredibly powerful fighter transitioned to an unlikely friendship. Qin Shi Huang was nothing like Sumiyoshi, that much was certain.

Where Sumiyoshi was a humble man blessed to have a family in turbulent times, the boastful emperor had been an unwanted child from the moment he was born. If it had not been for his mentor and mother, that meek little boy would not have the confidence to move forward and pave the road for his people to live in peace, let alone find a method to deal with the Zhao’s anger aimed at him simply because he was from royalty.

He had many children sired from his concubines but he never took an empress, much to his council’s annoyance even in the afterlife. Chun Yan too, of all people!

Yet despite such different personalities from two different people who are your friends….you knew they both possessed kindness and empathy. Why else would an emperor continue to maintain contact with you via letters and occasionally visit you in the mountains over the next thirty years?

He’s a man who had led his people into prosperity after all, the king of all kings.

You had lost so much when you were alive…is it truly all right to be selfish and treasure Qin Shi Huang as a friend, an emperor of all people?

Qin Shi Huang quickly discovered that there was more to his new friend than being a calm, unreadable individual who never raised her voice once even when he had been purposely annoying just to gauge a reaction.

The Sun Hashira…she was perfect. A beautiful, complex creature who values integrity and kindness above all else. She did not enjoy fighting, preferring a quiet life away from society than challenging one opponent after another. And like him, she knew what it meant to lose a loved one.

When it came to strength, she once told him, those who are marked like herself will all meet the same fate. He had an idea as to the cryptic meaning behind her words…and he prayed that she would live in this afterlife.

When he revealed his past to her, what he had done as a child until his death, the Sun Hashira simply accepted it all as they say together on the snowy veranda of her small home.

“To live in an era of conflict…there can never be true peace without bloodshed. Your Imperial Majesty had gone through so much….and you were loved deeply by Chun Yan. I wish….I could have met her….and thank her for raising a wonderful, strong son.”

Qin Shi Huang.exe stopped working for a span of five seconds before he tried to hide his embarrassment with a swing of the warm sake that his host had prepared especially for them to celebrate the New Year together.

Another year has come and gone…so why was it that his heart hasn’t stopped hammering against his ribcage?

Bonus Content:

After five years of sending luxurious gifts and love letters, it took a stammering confession from the emperor to convey his feelings towards the Sun Hashira.

Although she did not want to marry right away, she humbly accepted a period of courtship from China’s greatest emperor until it was appropriate to be welcomed as his empress.

Some of his court were pleased that he had finally selected a wife to become the mother of the nation, but there were others who believed that [First Name] was too independent and would not respect the traditions required to follow after becoming an empress.

Needless to say, Qin Shi Huang made an example of the courtiers who dared to disrespect his new wife behind closed doors. His warning also extended to the concubines, should they try to do something malicious out of petty jealousy.

Quality time included sampling delicacies in the garden, sparring matches, and cuddling in his private quarters.

Chun Yan approved of [First Name], congratulating her adoptive son on finding a woman who can keep up with his shenanigans.

The domestic bliss between the emperor and empress never wavered…until Brunhilde approached the palace and asked for their aid to fight against the gods. Both of them.

If it hadn’t been for [First Name]’s benevolence, Qin would have immediately executed the Valkyrie on the spot for her arrogance. Instead he gave her the courtesy and listened to her proposal regarding the event called Ragnarok. A battle royale until one opponent is annihilated.

The emperor would be lying if he said he wasn’t interested, but he had no intention of bringing his Sun Hashira into it. He wanted her to spend this afterlife in peace, not to put her life on the line again.

Alas, his wife was stubborn. He agreed to Brunhilde’s terms so long as she agreed to his terms. Once she left the palace, he pulled his empress into a long talk about this…situation.

Whatever obstacles will come their way, they will face it together. The Sun Hashira isn’t alone anymore.

Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche

@onecantsimply

@recreationalfanfics

@deathmetalunicorn1

@yellow-snark

@thatstrangesheep

@dance-till-the-death

@staticradiotv​

Honorable mentions:

@myrisan-melodies​

[duchezss]

I recently finished reading all the Lockwood & Co books, and my god they were good, but it got me thinking. If the show continued, like it deserved too, would Holly and Kipps have gotten a signature color the same way the trio did? If so what would they be? Well I was looking at twitter and I saw that most people agree that Holly's color would be yellow, and Kipps' would be white, and I'll be honest I disagree so badly I'm about to write an essay. It's funny because I distinctly remember finishing the books and thinking, "ah watch everyone put their colors as yellow and white cause it's easy". LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER. Y'all just don't get color theory OR the characters the way I do so listen up.

Holly is many things. She's positive, and compassionate, and kind, but she is so much more than that. She's not just a "yellow", yes maybe she is the sunshine of the group, but honestly? Not really, and that's ok. She's fierce and sometimes she has a short temper, she pretends to let everything slide off her shoulder, when really she's just keeping it inside. That's why her and Lucy are constantly budding heads in the beginning of their friendship, they are so similar. I think her color should be red. She's constantly described as wearing it, and I think it really fits her. Red represents passion, energy, confidence, and excitement to name a few. Holly is always described as having a presence, and her energy and enthusiasm comes off her in waves. Red is usually described as the color of love, and I still think that fits. She has such love for the entire crew, and it's so clear she would go to the ends of the earth for them. I also think this would blend in with the others very well. Despite it not actually being blue's real opposite, blue and red are often seen as polar opposites, which really fits for Lucy and Holly's dynamic. It also works because red and orange are both warm colors and George and Holly have always gotten along. They are similar in their methodical and sometimes odd ways of life. I also think it's fun cause Skully's color is green, and green are red are direct color wheel opposites. I'm pretty sure he hates her the most, but Kipps is also competing hard for that title. And lastly black is kinda the color in between, now more on that in a second.

I see what twitter was going for, Lucy and George are blue and orange, direct color wheel opposites, because they are quite literally direct opposites. So it makes sense for Kipps to be white since he's the direct opposite of Lockwood? LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER AGAIN. Tell me y'all didn't understand their dynamic without telling me. Lockwood and Kipps didn't get along cause they were so different, they butted heads so hard because of how similar they are. It's exactly what happened with Lucy and Holly. Plus white represents a lot of things that are definitely not Kipps. My proposed color for him is purple, I know that's a little odd, but walk with me. Although it's never explicitly stated, one can assume that Kipps was an absolute prodigy when he had his talents. I only bring this up, because purple often represents royalty and luxury, and he practically became a fallen king when he lost the only thing he was ever good at it. But purple is much more than that, it also represents bravery, uniqueness. ambition, and justice. I think Kipps' original color is grey, and not just because of the uniform. Grey represents seriousness, sadness, and boredom. That's how Kipps was before, but when he remeets the crew during book 3 and 4, we begin to see the shift. The group helps him gain his ambition back, and with all of their love and support we even begin to see how brave he really is. He has a unique way of going through life, and even when all the odds are stacked against them, he still seeks justice. Purple fits with the general color scheme as well. It's very close to black, which represents how similar him and Lockwood are, and it's also a cooler color like blue. Kipps and Lucy certainly got along the easiest out of the crew.

Overall it just makes sense. George and Holly are the warmer colors, Lucy and Kipps the cooler, and Lockwood as the mediator between them. I feel like red might be a little hard to incorporate without being overpowering, and I know that purple isn't a super masculine color, but hell if those costume designer made full orange outfits look good they can literally do anything. Anyways I know this isn't that important, but ugh I love color theory so much, and I love how much thought the costume designers put in the first time. I feel like having Holly and Kipps color being yellow and white is just a cheap easy shot, and doesn't take into account the characters and their growth enough. I rest my case.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

You walked down the street and sighed. The hotel had been a bit too much today, with Alastor and Lucifer going at each other’s throats and the lovey gazes Angel and Husk shot each other, and the new residents that were coming in, there wasn’t much more you could take today. So you slipped out and proceeded to take a walk. Looking up at the red sky you smiled, part of you thinking that the sky was much prettier than the sky you were used to when you were alive.

Being someone who died more recently than the other occupants at the hotel, you could still remember the blue sky and the sun that would caress your skin each time you stepped outside during the day. You stopped abruptly and turned on your foot and started to head back to the hotel, almost instinctively not wanting to be too far from the hotel.

After you first found the hotel, you became a sort of assistant to Alastor and Charlie and you cursed the sense of responsibility you felt due to this. The guilt for even leaving the hotel just now was a bit too much, but the walk had done you good. You walk into the hotel, expecting anything but what you see.

Alastor was in his half-demon form, not truly taking up the whole lobby, but at this point, he might as well have. Charlie telling - more screaming at Alastor - to calm down. Somehow, Alastor had gotten Lucifer in his grasp and was about to eat him. You blinked hearing the King of Hell telling Alastor to put him down, with promises that he would be quiet. Alastor just laughed and continued to lower Lucifer to his mouth, everyone partially petrified not thinking Alastor would go this far.

You sigh and walk up to the scene and clear your throat. Alastor and Lucifer both looking at you but your eyes were on Alastor. You could feel the displeasure on your own face and felt the start of a stress migraine. You spoke, not raising your voice whatsoever.

“Why are you trying to eat Lucifer?” You asked Alastor, who slow blinked at you.

“I don’t know! I was just making some adjustments to the interiors and fixing a curtain-“ Lucifer’s voice was cut off when Alastor squeezed him a bit harder. You sighed and closed your eyes for a minute, really reconsidering all the choices that led you here to deal with two children.

“Now, you both are how many years old?” You ask. Alastor starts to answer and you cut him off, not even caring if he were to kill you now. “Too old. Let me tell you that. Too fucking old to be acting like CHILDREN.” You scream the last part. “So, put Lucifer down, Alastor, de-Hulk yourself, and agree to disagree on the decor. This is Lucifer’s hotel Alastor, originally, and Charlie is in charge.” You turn to Charlie who is staring at you wide-eyed.

“Charlie, do you like the decor that your father has created here the yellows and reds with the apples and the-“ Your cut off by a radio scratch.

“TaCKy CirCUs DEcOr?” Alastor says cutting you off.

“Those would not have been my choice of words, but the question still stands, Charlie?” You ask gently.

“No, no, no” She starts, shaking her head, you watch as her eyes widen and she stops. “I mean yes, I love the decor, no, I don’t hate it or think it’s tacky circus decor. It reminds me of my home… but I want everyone to feel comfortable here!” She explains.

“So, then maybe you both can collaborate on decor?” You say looking at them, Alastor still gripping Lucifer tightly. “Maybe taking the golds and reds of the decor you like Lucifer and then intertwining the forest feeling of the decor Alastor likes, giving it a cottage core, Moroccan vibe?” You ask.

“A what now?” Is the only question from Alastor as he peers at you. You assume this means you aren’t dying just yet. 

“Cottage core is more forest themed and the Moroccan would incorporate the reds and the golds that I’ve been basing all the designs off of, and with the gold that’s been used all we’d need to do-“ You start to interrupt Lucifer as you see Alastor’s eyes narrowing at his head as he keeps talking.

“All that would need to really be added is more textures, textiles, and some more incorporations of color.” You finish. Alastor regards you for a moment, looks at Charlie, and then drops Lucifer. You sigh in relief as Alastor magically shrinks back down to his regular form.

“I’d rather not work on anything with him, so long as there isn’t any more of this decor for clowns, it will be fine.” He grinds out and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“As our gracious hotelier, we must have you involved in this Alastor, and since Lucifer has such a knack for design and creating things out of thin air, why I think this is a project for all three of us.” You say, a sarcastic tone in your voice, taking a few steps away and heading to your office. “Come now, we need to get a general theme down so Lucifer can start creating.” You stare at both of them expectantly.

“I don’t think you are in any position to be giving orders,” Alastor says and you shrug, realizing this might be the closest to death you may get with the Radio Demon.

“While I may not be above either of you, I am on assignment for the Princess. Is that not right Charlie?” I look at Charlie, pleading with my eyes to follow along. She perks up and rushes toward me.

“Yup! Y/N is here to help! I gave her this task like so long ago!” She says as you stare at her, thinking she couldn’t be more obvious.

“Well, now, you don’t want to disappoint her do you?” You ask Lucifer. “And I truly think that Lucifer may just one up you on design, Al.” Lucifer bristles at that and walks over to you. Alastor blinks and narrows his eyes at you as you use a nickname to refer to him.

“I can do more than one-up him,” Lucifer says fixing his hat.

“Can’t one-up what was lackluster to begin with.” Alastor retorts back.

“C’mon, let’s get the interior of the hotel sorted…” You say walking off with Charlie yelling ‘thank you’ behind us. You shake your head as you pull up your laptop at your desk and start getting to work on the mood board for the hotel. All the while, the bickering between Alastor and Lucifer is the background noise. You smile as you pull up a few images. Being in hell wasn’t all that great all the time, but you couldn’t lie saying you weren’t fond of it.

authors note: it’s been a while since i’ve published ANYTHING… so please be kind.

[raayllum]

It's not structurally sound, so Zym walks beside him, one wing tented protectively over his head just in case. At least that's what Soren said, eyes still with a fading yellow hue to them, traces of magic still stubbornly clinging on when Ezran had finally arrived.

The sky was still grey, flecked with smoke and embers, Callum slamming into him in a banther hug before Ez had even gotten his bearings—both sobbing a little, exhausted, relieved. Callum cupping his baby brother's cheeks and brushing away tears, till—Ezran had spotted him lurking over Callum's shoulder, dressed in greens and all too terribly alive.

The shouting match that had followed hadn't been pretty, but—

Opeli had stepped in. Soren had ushered everyone else away.

"He just needs some time to mourn," Corvus murmurs.

Ez had cried at the wedding, and cried on the way home. The putrid air stings his eyes now as he walks amongst the ruins, though no tears fall. His eyes are too full of something else, reconstructing everything around him perfectly. There's where the eastern tower stood before it crumbled into the courtyard. The balcony by the king's chambers where Ez had taken his first steps, toddling confidently towards his father's face. Half the battlements are blasted apart, barracks and weapons in splintered disarray. The rest of the castle isn't in much better shape.

His family's home, his family's legacy, all the precious things he hadn't taken with him to New Aurea, because why would he have? A box of mementos from his mother—the tie from her braid, a pressed flower from her wedding bouquet, a letter she'd written and sealed for him for his sixteenth birthday—buried in ash. Burnt to a crisp.

Every portrait of his father, his throne, his... A lump rises in his throat.

Gone.

It's all gone.

Opeli has the grim work of consulting everyone to make a list of the dead, all the guards and servants and people—families—wiped out. Ez knows there will be names he recognizes. Even worse, there will be names he doesn't, people who lived and died here, in his castle, in his kingdom, and as king, he didn't even—

His vision blurs as he picks his way over charred brick, Zym following dutifully behind him with a tiny whine. He staggers over the collapsed walls, the massive pile, but picks out a spindle of what he knows is a rocking chair, sticking out from the side.

"My mother sat here," he explains to Zym, sitting down slowly on the pile of bricks. It's as comfortable a seat as anything else could be. "When she rocked me to sleep." He sniffles. His shoulders shake. "This was my nursery, Zym."

His Dad had kept it preserved, just for him. For whenever you want to feel close to her. And after his Dad's death, to both of them.

Zym presses his snout to Ezran's arm as they settle together, his castle consumed by dragon fire.

Ezran weeps in the middle of his nursery.

This is where tiny children are supposed to cry, after all.

[py-dreamer]

Yea!!! Can you tell I have favorites lol

so since it's the 20th in my time, it is officially my birthday today!

But I wanted to get this out regardless so kinda count it as the previous day's ig

I will be posting something later today probably but it will most likely just be a compilation of all the cakes I've done thus far.

Ok but um on with the cake!

It's like a cheesecake and I basically copied Tengen's cake with like a jelly filling with fruit suspended in it, peaches (obviously), strawberries and blueberries cause I like them and sod it I'll put them on this goddamn cake!

The thing Wukong's sitting on is one of those peach ice creams that's gotten so popular lately with the sprinkle of pink dust thingy on top.

On either side of the cake is the fillet from the journey and the hat from the brotherhood era, one from his reckless past and one from his redemption and I just think that's neat.

The blue puffy stuff is meant to be his nimbus clouds represented as cotton candy.

I have the baiju jar in there as reference to Wukong becoming immortal again due to the all the wine made from the peaches of immortality at the festival.

The staff as a little candle was so fun! And I like pocky so I chucked them on there to fill space and it looks good so sue me

The grey thing behind the staff and balloon is meant to be the Buddha's hand that trapped him under the mountain and a reference to his imprisonment under 5 phases mountain.

Peach popsicle! Of course I had too! A lil something from the present for our (shadow) peachy friend

Mk's stone as well, had to add his son in there too. The baby ever.

(probably just a cookie but it's the thought that counts)

The two sugar cookies are meant to be his logo (aka the lmk logo) and fireworks, again taken from Tengen's cake.

The sun is a candied/tanghulu esque orange thing. Like an orange slice coated in yellow melted sugar shaped like a sun and the phoenix feather cap since I consider it iconic enough to put in here. I didn't want to put it on him, blocking a lot of the decorations so I just hung it to the side and I think I'm happy with that.

A lot more monkeys here! It was very fun popping them in! I know I only gave Mac 1 but I mean Wukong's the monkey king for a reason. Let him be a loving grandpa and invite his subjects on the cake with him. He granted them immortality by ripping their names out the book of dead, let them have a place on the cake too

Also, yes that is the origami pilgims in the bottom left, I couldn't leave them alone could I?

Now the elephant in the room (or at least in my head), yes I did use @maplesleep's matcha pancake design for flower fruit mountain.

Cake on cake. Bit much but hey, I like cake and pastries better than candy normally so win for me.

And I couldn't just make cake about Sun Wukong without mentioning his home/origins of ffm. I do genuinely love the inginuity and adorableness factor of the pancake design and hope they don't mind me slapping it on my...cheesecake? Jelly cake? Jelly-cheesecake?

(also I have to ask @maplesleep, did you watch the 3rd emirichu anime cafe video, specifically the urusei yatsura cafe as inspiration for the 'sun wukong's strawberry sponge cake punishment' parfait thingy, gorgeously drawn btw I used those drawings as inspiration quite a bit for these cakes, or saw the urusei yatsura collab anime cafe

cause I couldn't help but notice the similarities between that and the 'shinobu's maiden strength parfait' cause if you didn't that be a pretty funny coincidence lol)

So what do you think? You think I could make it as another lmk food chef for lego? Can I join the club lmao?

I do realize in retrospect the disrespect I did Mk by making his cake so plain by comparison to his mentor's. But I think that's a testament to my improvement and attention to detail when making these cakes as the days have progressed!

I consider Mk's in particular to be the most lacking and I lowkey feel so bad for my boi for not giving him the main character status he deserves.

I might draw him again, idk. Not anytime soon though, like I said, I'm quite busy now more than before and I need a break, still glad I could serve y'all another slice of cake though!

[lint-beetle4]

Eclipse (ShadowPeach Smut)

For a popular ship, there is a lot of potential with how powerful both of these monkeys are that I haven't seen explored much. I hope you enjoy!

Smut below

Every day and night, the sky would be met by the enticing light of the moon and the sun. Glowing in their powerful aura, they danced together as they watched over their domain. Yet, every few years or so, they would grow lonely, craving more than the occasional dance steps that they would greet by.

During these moments, gentle touches and whispers would greet them, love shining through the penumbra of their embrace.

Macaque was a vicious fighter, agile and cruel. He knew how to throw dirty blows and tricks that would make his opponents stumble. His counterpart, Wukong however, was smart, cheeky, able to have his opponents drive themselves mad in order to land a hit on the sage. Wukong used emotions and his own words to strike while Macaque bared his claws and lashed out with precision. Together, they were unstoppable; against the other, they were at a stalemate.

Macaque panted as him and Wukong sparred, his strength fleeting. Wukong seemed tired too, his fur drenched in sweat. It didn't help that it was a particularly humid summer day, but that wouldn't deter either of the warriors, weather was only an inconvenience never a game-changer. Wukong's staff stood firmly in his grasp, the stone monkey's tail lashing in his excitement.

"What's wrong, Macaque?" The prideful monkey grinned. "Giving up, already?"

Macaque grinned, shaking his head as he charged at Wukong, shadows changing the land before the two as Wukong fell, Macaque's cudgel blocking the king from rising up.

"Nah, I'm just getting started." The shadow demon smirked, looking down at Wukong's fallen form with satisfaction. "It seems I've won though, huh? Do you concede, Wukong? You don't have much of a choice anyways?"

The air was still, Wukong's eyes strong, yielding no signs of surrender. Wukong chuckled lowly, his feet kicking up to off-balance Macaque, the darker monkey quickly retreating as Wukong stood to his feet.

"How about we actually get started then, Macaque. This warm-ups been fun and all, but I want to see your true power."

Macaque grinned toothily, a near snarl as he stood straight, his posture braced for the quick movements Wukong seemed to be itching to fight back. The heat of the sun couldn't match the intense glare of the two monkeys, both eager to win over the other.

It was Sandy's idea, interestingly enough, to have them spar as a form of bonding. While neither was opposed, the two definitely have gotten into quarrels through the mountain as they fought, calls of cheating or foul play. Eventually, they decided that a fair fight is one where the only limit is serious harm to the opponent or the land around them.

Thus, the two exchanged blow after blow, rounds of fighting that seemed to barely drain the other. The sun had lowered further, and Wukong’s clones had thoroughly pinned Macaque to the ground, hot breaths tickling the shadow demon as Macaque panted, nearly heaving to catch his breath.

Macaque groaned against the clones, trying to move his body against the clones. Wukong stepped over to Macaque, a pleased smirk as his hand trailed along Macaque’s face, lifting the angered celestial monkey’s chin to meet his eyes.

“You could give up now, peaches, or we could be here all night? How about it?”

Macaque spat on the ground, sharp teeth bared at Wukong as he growled with piercing eyes towards the sage. “Do your worst, Great Sage, I’m never conceding.”

Wukong lifted an eyebrow, face leaning closer to Macaque’s. “Colors?”

“Red for stop, Yellow for pause, Green to keep going.” Macaque rolled his eyes, his expression softening briefly at Wukong. 

Wukong tapped on Macaque’s cheek, smirk returning to him. “Good boy.”

“What’s this all about, Wukong?” Macaque quickly returned to character, weakly struggling against the clones that looked at the monkey underneath them with hungry eyes. 

One of Wukong’s clones brushed against Macaque’s tail, trailing the sensitive nerves that connected to it. Macaque shivered underneath its touch, his expression never wavering.

“You’ll lose one way or another, Six-Eared Macaque.” Wukong nearly spat, another clone lifting Macaque slightly, hands groping at Macaque’s chest. “Until I hear those words, I’ll just keep toying with you.”

Macaque glared hardening, a blushing forming on his face as the hands fondled his chest, lightly pinching at his clothed nipples. Macaque sighed, hiding his moans from Wukong’s piercing expression.

“I–I’m not falling to your tricks, Great Sage.”

Wukong smirked, “Have it your way. All you need to do is beg, and I’ll be right here to fill all those needs of yours.”

Macaque whimpered lightly as the hands stroked his stomach, sliding through his clothes and peeling them off slowly. One of the clones had marked Macaque’s neck with deep bite marks, pulsating and radiating with pleasure and pain. Macaque gasped, feeling his outer shift being stripped away and mouths latching onto his chest like hungry cubs.

Wukong’s voice whispered to Macaque, deep and rumbling in Macaque’s sensitive ears.

“Look at you, writhing and squirming against my clones…Color?”

“Green,” Macaque moaned, his body slowly going limp as the various touches along his body overwhelmed him. They pressed hot against his fur, kissing and suckling that trailing through body while Macaque weakly struggled against the arms that held him in place. 

One clone was brave enough to go lower, tongue trailing along Macaque’s stomach, pressing kisses and light nips against his hips while avoiding the growing hunger that built in Macaque’s pants. Yet, Wukong merely watched as clones continued to overwhelm the celestial monkey, eyes hungry, nearly devouring the sight of Macaque weak against the sensational torment of Wukong’s clones.

“Mng,” Macaque groaned, mouth covered by a clone fiercely smashing his lips into Macaque’s, moans muffled as drool trailed down Macaque’s face. 

“Just one word, Macaque, and I’m all yours.”

Wukong’s voice teased him again, and Macaque pulled away from the clone, glaring at Wukong. 

“Fuck. You.”

Wukong huffed, an amused grin on his face. Wukong sat back, pulling out a half-erect cock in front of Macaque’s face. “Have it your way.”

With a simple gesture, the sage’s clones continued further, more aggressively as blood dripped down the various bite marks that littered Macaque’s body. Hands reached down to paw at Macaque’s erection, pants sliding off painfully slow as Macaque’s breath hitched at the cool dusk air hitting his pussy.

“What’re you–” Macaque yelped, feeling a hand lightly stroke against Macaque’s now wet cunt, throbbing and twitching for more sensation as rough skin and light touches sent shivers down Macaque’s spine.

Whispers of the clones filled Macaque’s ears, sour words and bitter chuckles that had Macaque twitching and groaning as he mewed weakly against the single hand that stroked him, teased him with the way it never pressed hard enough nor moved fast enough.

“So weak, like putty in our hands.”

“Getting off to clones? How laughable.”

“Does our touch replicate his so well? Enough for you to start moaning like a whore to a wealthy man?”

Macaque stuttered, breathing heavily against the warm bodies that enveloped him. “I–I’m not–”

“Sure you are,” Wukong’s voice growled in his ear, closer than Macaque had thought. “Just lose yourself, concede and I’ll give everything to you.”

Macaque moaned, eyes shut in the painful ecstasy that flowed through his body.

“Wukong,” Macaque’s voice shook heavily, his breaths ragged as Wukong’s face betrayed no emotion. “Wukong–I–”

“Tell me, Macaque.” Wukong’s voice slid easily through Macaque’s ears, silky and light. “What do you want?”

“I need you.” Macaque answered honestly, his tone begging as Macaque shivered once more, feeling himself getting close despite his craving for more touch–deeper, deeper, Macaque just needed them to go deeper. “I need you to–to breed me. Inside of me–I need you inside of me.”

Wukong’s chuckle sent waves of anticipation through Macaque’s body as footsteps and shuffling sounded around him. A new body pressed against Macaque, breath tickling him as Wukong’s tongue licks the shell of Macaque’s ear, nipping it lightly.

“As you wish,” Wukong’s smirk never left his voice, his member pressing up against Macaque’s pussy. “Color?”

“Wukong, for fuck’s sake–” Macaque yelled, turning back to Wukong while pressing his ass closer to the stone monkey. “Green, just fuck me already!”

Without a second thought, Wukong’s cock entered Macaque, Macaque groaning at the sudden entry, tightening against the member. Wukong didn’t stop for a second, hips thrusting aggressively against Macaque, grinding against him as the clones began to disappear one by one, leaving final bite marks against the panting monkey.

“Fuck–Gah,” Macaque moaned, arms now bracing against the ground as Wukong’s fangs latched onto Macaque’s shoulders. “Mng–Wukong–”

Wukong growled, possessive and controlling. Macaque’s moans grew louder, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as Wukong’s cock buried deep into Macaque’s cunt. 

A building warmth filled Macaque’s core as Wukong continued to senselessly pound into Macaque, claws scratching at the darker monkey’s fur as Wukong’s growls and chuffs continued to fill Macaque’s ears. Macaque’s arms were weak, being held up by Wukong as Macaque’s body was practically limp against Wukong.

“Macaque–” Wukong’s voice rasped against Macaque. “I’m–ghh–close.”

Macaque whimpered, feeling the rough pads of Wukong’s fingers rubbing against his clit. “Hnng, Wukong–Fuck–Inside, fill me up–I need your pups in me, Wukong–”

Macaque felt something snap inside of him, hot streams of cum pouring into his burning, raw pussy as his groans were nearly in sync with Wukong’s. Macaque felt Wukong pulsating in him, going flacid as he slowly drew out his dick, spreading Macaque’s cheeks to admire his work. Macaque’s legs gave out, shaking and weak as he slumped against the ground.

“You’ve lost.” Wukong’s voice was hoarse, rough against the darker sky that slowly became night.

Macaque growled, his teeth biting against his lip dangerous as Macaque’s tail thud against the ground. With a weak, quivering voice, Macaque spoke. “Fine, you win, Great Sage. I concede.” Wukong hummed, satisfied and proud of his win. Lifting himself off of Macaque, Wukong helped him up, carrying the exhausted shadow demon back to his hut while brushing off any remaining dust from the both of them.

“How many wins is that for you again? Like 8?” Macaque asked, fixing his scuffed clothes with shadows that tiredly mended his clothing.

Wukong shrugged, walking into his hut as he took out some fruits for him and Macaque to share. “I’m pretty sure we’re almost even though. Last time, you took me out pretty quickly.”

“That’s because you got distracted by one of your subjects borderline harassing me,” Macaque chuckled, laying down still sore from the thorough beating his body had taken. Wukong’s only response was an amused chuckle, sitting by Macaque as Wukong cuddled into him, a slight apology for being rougher than he wanted to be.

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

6 - King and Queen in the North

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 10.4k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, discussions of warfare, strained parent-child issues, mild mentions of blood and violence, smut, oral (m receiving), slight dom/sub dynamics, consensual degredating langauge, symptoms of post coital sub drop, secret relationship, unexplained nightmares

Notes: Robbs campaign in the Westlands begins now. Disclaimer, I am not a war expert so if you are, just don't read into it too closely. Series Masterlist Here.

Men in the camp all spoke of different stories to explain it, some fantastical, some of ominous warning and many in their spare moments keeping their eyes peeled to the sky following the slow moving streak of red. The tip of it burned brighter almost as an orange or yellow that deepened in colour as it stretched into a striking red tail. It appeared in the bright sun of the daylight it seemed many days ago and it had barley moved along the skyline as it peeked into the night. The moon was barley visible in comparison, the red comet burned so bright that it demanded all of the skies attention. 

Now in the dark of the night, it was much more the centre of talk and yet as you walked through the camp you paid it no mind. Olyvar Frey to his credit, was trying very hard to be a dutiful squire to the King in the North and he seemed to show you a similar level of respect. Yet as you heard his squeaky voice shouting, you felt a tinge of annoyance in your chest. You would like just one singular night that would allow you any sleep. “Your grace,” 

Turning to see him, he paused in front of you, leaning his hands onto his thighs as he huffed out, “Your grace, my apologies, I,” taking another breathe he hoisted himself up and straight as he held out a raven scroll. “A raven came in urgently for the King.” 

Grabbing it, you glanced at the unbroken wax seal to see that of a Stag. Heart picking up a small bit, you nodded a thanks to the squire and he took a moment before realizing you were waiting for him to take his leave. 

There was much getting used to now, this new title. The Northmen respected you as their Queen as much as they did when choosing Robb Stark as their King. You had stood beside him, fought beside them as he did, and knew the North as well as any foreigner could. You had knelt and pledged in front of his men, that you vowed more then that of a wife’s love to him but your sword and loyalty. Even when it would mean standing opposite of your own father. 

You could only wonder just how he had taken it, learning of your allegiance, that these people called you Queen in the North. Now with a letter in your hands to the King you knew him well enough that Stannis Baratheon was not one to broker peace after being insulted so. Coming to your own tent, you could see that Robb had barley gotten inside before preoccupying himself with the papers in front of him. 

So much so, you seemed to have not even been noticed. “Your grace.” Robb having propped part of his head up by a closed fist with his elbow perched on a table, he raised up quietly with narrowed eyes until they flattened out to an amused smirk. “I know a King such as yourself is ever so busy, but pray tell could he spare a few moments for a girl such as myself?” 

Standing up, the smirk grew to a more wolfish grin as he stepped towards you. Slow, purposeful steps that made you feel like the prey before he stood tall over your leaning his face into yours. “For such a pretty one, I have more then a few.” Two fingers pulled your face up to his from under your chin, as he pressed his lips gently to yours. His other hand moving up to find the back of your neck, but finding you pulling back before he had the chance. 

One hand on his chest plate, he glanced down to see what the other was holding. His eyes narrowed more in question, before you turned it in your fingers so he could see the sigil. You found the others eyes, him pulling you in further away from the entrance. He leaned back against the table, using one hand to pull you to stand between his legs so he could keep his touch at your waist. “What’s it say?”

Raising an eyebrow, “It’s for the King in the North.” 

Robb only shook his head in a slight no, running one hand smoothly up and down your waist to hip and back. “And you are my Queen, which means what I know, I want you to know too.” It still took getting used to even from him, “Read it for me.” 

If you took a deep breathe no doubt it would come out shaking, instead you let your lungs burn as you unveiled the writing. Not in your fathers own hand, but it was indeed in his words nor was it addressed to one person. Th contents though, made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. Whatever ideas the realm had of this war before, certainly they knew now. 

“To the High Lords of Westeros, all men know me for the true born son of Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, by his lady wife Cassana of House Estermont. I declare upon the honour of my house that my brother Robert, our late King left no true born issues of his body. The boy Joffery, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty. Done in the Light of the Lord,”

For a brief second, your eyes narrowed at the wording in a mix of confusion and then to a distant concern. All which were not missed by Robb as you continued. 

“under the sign and seal of Stannis of House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm.” Your voice trailing out by the end with a mixture of acceptance and yet frustration in it’s sound. 

Robb pulled one hand back open as you handed it to him to scan over for himself. Your own hands now free, found themselves resting gently along the side and back of his neck. “It seems he’s not willing to make the same mistake.” Glancing up to you with a knowing look, “The whole realm knows now.” 

Robb meant no offence and you knew that. His father and you had made a few too many of them in both of your failing confidence in allies. Ned Stark, having sent one of his men to give a letter detailing the truth in the wake of Robert’s death meant for Stannis and only Stannis. Your own father however, seemed to think that no such subtly was required. “He wants everyone to know if you oppose him, then you’re opposing the one true King.” Your words a bit more pedantic then calm. 

There was no doubt when you chose to stand by his side what this meant for your family. It meant that now two of you were pulling the remains of the Baratheons apart, but before you could look to Robb, your men, and the united front that the Lannister forces how three times could not keep up with and ignore it. Now however? There was no more room to pretend otherwise. 

Robb would be considered a usurper, and you a traitor. At the least the punishment was the same for both crimes, but the once idea of your heads on spikes were whispered to be something new. Something this letter only added validity to such rumours. Robb gently calling your name, getting you to look him in the eye. “There is something else, something I wasn’t sure of until this.” Your fingers tapping at the letter. “He had said in the Light of the Lord,” 

“He did,” Robb watching carefully as you tried putting pieces together. 

Your nails lightly scratching at the ends of curly hair at the back of his neck almost like a nervous tick needing to fidget with something. “I’ve been hearing things from Dragonstone. About my father and mother.” 

It weighed in your chest unsettled and uncomfortable enough that you pulled out of Robb’s touch entirely as the feeling closed in on you. Choosing instead of sit back against the surface next to him as one arm draped across your stomach and the other with your fingers curling up against your lips. “My family has never exactly been considerably dedicated to the Seven, as you likely could tell.” 

A lightness in Robbs eyes glazed over as he looked at you, “Aye, considering there is actually a small sept in Winterfell and you never even considered getting married there.” 

Nodding, you didn’t think of the ceremony a lot actually. Most of it felt like a blur of anxiety that you barley remembered any of it until the crowd had left entirely. “My father and I approached it much the same. That the gods exist, but neither of us particularly liked them very much. He saw it was, we have our duty down here why should we too trap ourselves in obeying all of their demands as well.” 

Robb found himself trying not to laugh, unknowingly much like his father had said to his mother, “It is your gods with all the rules.” The Old Gods had not rules, but ways of life to adhere to that worked in conjunction with the way they saw nature was supposed to work. Likely why most Northerners found little care to move South, when many Southerners found little issue in going place to place. 

The Andals had came through the lands and cut down almost every Weirwood south of White Harbour, and pushed the First Men up behind that point to stay out of their way as they brought the Faith of the Seven with them. You smiled a little yourself. “My uncles weren’t exactly much different, just a little more into the debauchery of it all then us. But I’ve heard things about my father.” 

“He’s taken an advisor in a woman from Asshai. A red priestess of this,” You paused to find the words but none were too kind, “fanatical religion. One of the men here call it R’hllor. This red god that works through fire and blood magic and sacrifice.”

The image in your mind of the blackness of the cell in Kings Landing, your memory of that dream was so faded now all you could recall was a terrible chilling cold, and that of a flame that seemed to fly past you before you woke up. The dream at the time unsettled you then, and yet now as you could barley even recall anything but that it still did. 

You must have been quiet for longer then a moment, as Robb leaned closer into your side as he murmured your name. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Shutting your eyes, you felt the nerves soothed once more by his thick warm voice draping like honey in your ear. 

You shrugged though, “I’m not sure. I shouldn’t even care, we have more to worry about.” He could tell you were rapidly changing the topic, but thankfully you knew that Robb knew better then to push you to talk when so much of how you worked things out was in the quiet of your head. 

“I’m going to speak to him.” Looking back at him, Robb had dropped more of the softness only you were privy to these days. “Jaime. He had admitted it to my mother, that he pushed Bran from the window. But now that the whole realm knows his secret, I want to hear him confess his crime to my face.” A look in his eye grew darker and harsher when he met your eyes. 

“I’d wish you luck, but I know neither of you need that now do you?” 

This time, he was far less soft as he pulled you into him by the back of your neck. Pressing his lips roughly to yours, and deepening it just enough to steal your breathe before pulling back with a bite to your lower lip. Smirking at the low look in your eyes as he brushed against your lips still as he spoke lowly. “Your King expects you to show me just how lucky he is later tonight, understood?” 

He kissed you once more before departing. If Robb was good at one thing, it was making you forget everything you were raised and trained to be as soon as he got that lustful, demanding look in his eyes. 

The growing disparity of numbers was doing your head in. So many men here, so many here and yet the amounts changed depending on the source and of course each man saw it differently. Lord Karstark across from you arguing about the sheer size in the Stormlands. “Even if he had twice that, he’s no better then a boy playing games. He’s fought no battles, and neither have half those summer boys camped out.” 

Biting your tongue as you considered it, you shook your head at the dismissal finally. “He has Highgarden and the Tyrells, which means he also has Randyll Tarly at his command.” 

The Greatjon beside you loud and brash as any, “Tarly’s more likely to inspire those men to pack their bags and head home then follow that rat into battle. Some say he had his eldest killed and his second sons not the sharpest one either.” 

Tilting your head in doubt you glanced up at him, “It doesn’t matter what he did, what matters is if he’s on Renly’s side then they have more leadership then none. I don’t care what the man’s like in private, I care about how quickly he can train his men.” 

Bolton to the right of you spoke much calmer much to your growing headache’s relief, “We should have approached the Tyrell’s before Renly married the girl.” 

Now that was a news you hardly could picture, no more then a political move but you had no concept of what your uncle was going to do to even try selling that reality. “There’s nothing we could’ve done, Renly’s been in with the Tyrells for longer then even Roberts been dead.” Roose glancing at you curiously as you elaborated. “He’d been trying to find a way to get Lady Margaery in Robert’s bed for over a year, and he didn’t just leave the city when Robert died he left with Ser Loras and fifty retainers with them.” 

“You think he already knew about the Queen?” 

Nodding to Karstark with confidence. “I know he did. There’d be no reason for it otherwise. He gets the Tyrells in with his brother, exposes the Queen’s secret and suddenly there’s a gap to be filled on the throne and oh would you look at that.” Hitting your palms with some force onto the table, “Someone already has a tie in with Highgarden that just so happens to have a hundred thousand men at arms.” 

“She’s right,” the gruff voice of Brynden Tully speaking up from the side of the room. “We dismiss Renlys army and it gives them the chance to smarten up without us noticing and sneak up behind us while we’re busy with Lord Tywin.” 

“Most of his men backed themselves into Harrenhal, he’ll join them most likely. Knows it’s too risky for us to march on him even in those ruins.” Your head continued to grow louder in it’s pain. There were four armies at this point, and frustratingly the North were the only ones who weren’t fighting for claim of the Iron Throne and yet it seemed all of the weight of this war was falling on your shoulders.

You stared at the lap, marks laid out as the debate continued. There was a certain amount of worry you were purposely keeping from them, one that you knew Robb was watching fester inside. You were not worried about Renly’s army against the North, no you knew better then that. 

Stannis would go after Renly first, considering him as his biggest threat having claimed his seat for himself and brought maybe ten thousand men of Storm’s End onto his side. Guessing you’d say your father was left with around five thousand which to most is something to scoff at, but you knew better then that. 

He had skill, drive, and little mercy for those who were in his way in ways that Renly had never even seen before. His enemy was Renly, then the Iron Throne and finally you had no doubt your father would end his campaign by coming after Robb. The North hadn’t declared independence just to hand themselves over to the crown without a fight. 

If Lord Tywin was your current enemy, it was your own father’s Iron fist that left you awake at night. The men around you bowing with mutterings of “Your Grace,” causing you to look up. Robb entering the room looking to you as you gave a slight grimace. Renlys numbers it seemed, continue to be the rotten apple of the bunch that was ruining the strength of the rest. 

Moving aside from where you were stood, palms braced against the table as you leaned over the chair as Robb moved around. Theon came in after him with a nod, “Your grace.” If there was one person who such formality felt odd being directed towards, it was the strangest coming from the Greyjoy. You had spent far too many years bickering and bantering to be used to being addressed as such from him. 

Taking a similar stance as you had, Robb looked over the map. “I assume we haven’t reached an agreement yet?” Brynden confirming that no you all had not, as he explained that the problem seems to be what to do about Renly. Robb considered the words, “He has the numbers, but he has the weakest claim and no talent for warfare. Last I heard he was busy holding competitions just to elect a kingsgaurd. Either we deal with him now when he’s no threat, or we let him turn into a threat and it is too late to come to any agreement.” 

Lord Karstark opened his mouth, speaking the first few syllables of protest before Greatjon’s voice bellowed pushing right back. “You not hear your King, Karstark? Or do you think this is up for debate.” 

The man muttering an apology, “No offence is taken, my lord. You are all hear to have your opinions heard.” Taking a seat, Robb begun to glance around to his men. “Now, why I’ve called you all here so late.” 

If you were being honest, it was far to much work to keep with the amount of Lannisters there. Some looked alike, some looked nothing like any you’d ever seen making you wonder just looks their parents had to create such a mix in appearances. The man in front of you had darker hair, somewhat similar eyes to his cousins but little else you saw that would place him but name. 

For all of the damage such striking blonde hair had caused in Kings Landing, the Lannisters did not seem to share the strength in familial looks that the Baratheons or Starks shared. He was still and quiet, but had nothing but an earnest respect on his face as he looked to the King now speaking to him. “You’re Ser Alton Lannister?” 

“I am, your grace.” 

He had been called upon in wake of the fresh defeat of forces, Robb to send him to Kings Landing and present the Queen with his peace terms. “She won’t care.” Renly’s voice had spoken once more in your head, and yet when telling that to Robb he wasn’t perturbed at all.  

“You’re right, she won’t. But then I’m the one who extended an offer to end the war, which means the fault lies with them for denying us. We have our enemies, but none who hate us quite as much as they hate the Lannisters.” 

It was clever to be honest. Make a simple offer of peace that could end Robb’s campaign against them with ease, especially considering it was incontestable the degree which they were losing the war against him. Give them one less army to fight and the North far more time to plan and resource how to handle Stannis should his own campaign for the throne succeed. 

“I offer your cousins peace if they meet my terms.” Robb spoke with the roughness of authority and yet the powerful calm of a man truly in charge. He suited his role perfectly, as if truly destined for him. “First, your family must release my sisters. Second, my father’s bone’s must be returned to us so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell.” 

Your heart ripped a little at his demand. It ripped at his even though he did now show or speak it here and now. Your uncle had called such a place dark and depressing, when to the Starks it was where they belonged. A place they could stay together in the home they belonged in. Eddard Stark did not belong rotting away in Kings Landing, sick thinking of how long did they let his head decay away on those spikes. 

“And the remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honour them with proper funerals.” 

Alton for his part, had a look of understanding to each request so far. “An honourable request, your grace.” But your eyes narrowed at him, and he caught the look with a tiny shift to something more unsteady at the sight. You knew he wouldn’t take the next quite as easily as Robb too knew what he was asking him to deliver. 

“Third, Joffery and the Queen Regent must renounce all claim to dominion of the North.” Oh the look on the Lannister’s face that dropped so quickly. “From this time ‘till the end of time, we are a free and independent Kingdom.” 

The nervousness dripping from him as the loyal men surround you and Robb all unified in their words together, “The King in the North.”  

“Neither Joffery not any of his men shall set foot in our lands again. If he disregards this command, he shall suffer the same fate as my father. Only I don’t need a servant to do my beheading for me.” 

A chilling pride filling your veins. For as much learning as you had been given in your years growing up, none at all gave you anywhere near the ease of leadership that Robb had so quickly grown into. Alton Lannister in his place, stammered out “These are...Your grace, these are...”

Robb finding no issue in finishing his sentence for him. “These are my terms. If the Queen Regent and her son meet them, I’ll give them my peace. If not?” His voice dropping harsh and deep with no false or pretend in it to be found. “I will litter the south with Lannister dead.” 

As if he forgot where he was, Alton spoke out, “King Joffery is a Baratheon, your grace..”

“Is he?” 

Silence fell over the Lannister as he looked at you, a paleness in his face growing ever more white at the unblinking stare you gave him until the silence threatened to swallow the man whole. Robb had taken quite a bit of internal struggle to not smirk at just how quickly you turned the Northerners in the room to quick amusement at the mans expense. “You’ll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton.” 

Nodding, he was brought out of the tent as Robb dismissed the rest of his men. “That will be all for tonight.” 

Standing together, Robb raised an eyebrow with a playful glint in his eye. “Is he?” His smirk turning to more of a grin as you broke your own face into a smirk. “Nearly send that man into an early grave. Who would’ve sent the understanding Queen my oh so reasonable terms then?” 

Shrugging a shoulder at him, “I have no doubt there’s an endless amount of Lannisters around you can scare into it, my King.” 

Nudging you ahead of him playfully you both could see Theon waiting around the front as you three now stood at the opening of the tent. Looking to the camp settling itself in. “A word, your grace?” 

Robb sounded almost bashful as he turned to him, “You don’t have to call me your grace when no one’s around.” A small pocket of ease settled between the three of you, for a short moment you were not the leaders of a war as Theon shrugged. 

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” 

Feeling Robb’s hand run gently along your arm and wrist where he could find without looking, as you twisted to run yours over his hand back as he sighed. “I’m glad someone’s gotten used to it. “

Cutting to the chase Theon at least understood what was happening. “The Lannisters are going to reject your terms, know.” Robb wasting no breathe in affirming that of course they would as Theon turned to you both. “We can fight them in the fields as long as you like, but we won’t need them until you take Kings Landing. And we can’t take Kings Landing without ships.” 

Glancing at you, Theon could clearly tell by how quickly glanced to Robb that you could see exactly where this was headed. Both of your families had ships, but only one of you had any chance at bringing them to Robb. “My father has ships, and men who know how to sail them.” 

“Men who fought our fathers.” 

You felt doubt, not in Theon but perhaps in those who he was speaking of. He looked at you with a plead, and you felt for how long he must have considered bringing this up. “Men who fought against King Robert to free themselves from the toke of the south, men who fought against the very father that you’re siding against now.” Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t argue back. He wasn’t wrong. Not at all. 

“I’m his only living son. He’ll listen to me, I know he will.” 

Flickering his eyes to you, a trust was found in both of your eyes in the man before you both that had been as close as could be for over ten years now. Theon’s words were quiet, hitting you with an emotional weight that he hadn’t intended, nor do you think either considered. “I’m not a Stark, I know that. But your father raised me to be an honourable man.” 

You thought of those dreams, those visions of nothing in your eyes that appeared out of nowhere and disappeared just as quickly. A deep rasp that spoke too much of the same words, and yet filled with a pain that send him towards the edge of the world. Neither you not Robb had mentioned it yet but you both certainly felt it, especially as you, him, and Theon all stood here fighting for the same thing. 

A fourth person was missing and both of you felt his absence each day grow more difficult. 

It felt as if the night had never ended. One thing turned to another and another, and little by little by the point you had a chance to peel off the heavy fabric weight you down. Or was it the war around you doing that all on its own? You could hear just outside the quiet mutterings following by a distinct wolfish huff that had you smile. 

Something about the way only Robb could speak to Grey Wind intrigued you. Like it was a companion that understood him, maybe even others. The direwolf was smart enough, but seemed to choose to obey only one. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that Grey Wind did not follow Robb inside, choosing instead to rest comfortably out at the entrance like a lock to the door that didn’t actually exist. Also ignoring the dark look in his eye as he looked you over, turning away from his eyes as you hid how flustered he made you look. “She didn’t take it very well, I’m assuming.” 

“No she didn’t. To either.” Glancing over you saw him move to tear off the layers himself, narrowing your eyes as you crossed the room, motioning for him to turn around. Standing behind him, you had rise up on your toes to comfortably reach at his shoulders as Robb turned slightly to glance at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “You know I have a squire to do this right?” 

Pausing mid movements you leaned over more to meet his gaze, “My apologies, your grace. Shall I go fetch him to undress you tonight?” Robb tried turning to grab at you, only to be stopped by your hands bracing against his shoulders. “No? Then don’t move.” 

As you undid the pauldrons on his shoulders, the weight did nothing to rid him of the itensity in his muscles there, pausing your work only to run your palms over then. Digging in slightly, his breath hitched for a second, exhaling when you moved continued down his arms to undo the armour. “Told me never to trust a Greyjoy.” 

You were glad to be behind him, not wishing for him to see the irritation in your face despite how much you tried to hide it. “We’re not trusting a Greyjoy, we’re trusting Theon. She should know by now there’s a difference.” 

Robb could hear it in your voice however, but he didn’t blame you nor did he hide it in his own frustrations. “If we didn’t make allies in anyone who hasn’t been our enemy before, it’d be seven kingdoms all blindly fighting each other with no one to trust.” As his arms were released, you could see Robb flexing and relaxing them in a pattern, trying to keep the stress from tensing him too much. 

“Hell if that were the case I certainly wouldn’t be allowed to be here would I.” This time he turned to fast for you to hold him in pace. His eyes were unamused as they bore into yours. “I mean if this all goes the way we think it will, it’s not just the Lannisters we’ll be fighting against.” 

His voice was low, and the hefty concern in them made you feel small, or smaller perhaps. “I want you to listen to me.” Shaking off his chest plate he had far more room to pull you closer. “You are far more then just Stannis’s daughter. You’re my wife, the woman I love, and the Queen all those men out there call their own.” Grasping your face gently, he pulled you to look at him, his face serious but the blue in his eyes shined brightly in the dim yellow light. “If we fight him, we fight him. But you won’t do it alone.”

Staring at you until you slowly nodded, he gave you a light, gentle kiss before pulling back. “May I continue?” Kneeling down you started on the last of it quickly, having done it enough times by now for him. Walder Frey gave him a squire, but you much preferred doing certain things yourself for him, you had to share the other with some thirty thousand men out there the least the boy could do was find anywhere else to be at night but in your tent. 

You were quiet and didn’t glance up as you spoke, “I love you as well, just if we’re being honest.” 

The chuckle above you was darker then you thought, a shiver down your spine as he spoke. “Dangerous thing to say to a man when you’re on your knees before him.” Tearing your eyes up you had no way of stopping the way your gaze took it’s time strolling up his body as you freed him from the remaining metal. His hand ran over the side of your face, thumb brushing against your bottom lip before beckoning you up. 

Undoing the laces to slide off the thin material covering your own body, you felt your body want to shake from the sudden cold air but the deep breathe Robb let you as he rested his forehead against yours make you warm. His large hands grasping your hips and pulling you to press against him. “You cannot keep doing this to me, I’d like to get my whole thought out for once before you make me want to shove you into my bed.” 

Pulling back, you looked into his eyes now a much deeper colour then before as you very gently undid the shirt covering his chest. Not looking away still as you slid it open and off both his shoulders to let it drop to the ground. “Well, I’m listening.”  

Either such a quiet growl you were meant to hear, or something only meant for himself you felt his hands tighten against you. “How is it I have five siblings, and yet you’re the one whose the biggest brat?” Not moving, you much more calmly pressed your palms against his chest and up to rest along his shoulders and neck as he collected himself. “She tried telling me I should just send you instead.” 

You bit your tongue as the scenario played out in your mind, “The last time I saw Renly, I told him he was out of his mind thinking he could be a king, and not to do anything stupid. I’m not sure he’d be so keen on letting me walk in and out of his camp.” 

Robb adding, “Not to mention all they’ll see is their enemies daughter, not the wife of the King trying to offer a truce.” The conflict in your heart just never left did it. It was always bubbling to the surface waiting to escape and taunt you. “We agreed to stay together from now on. Where I go, you go, and right now we belong here, with our men fighting this war. I’m not sending you off miles away where anyone could take you.” 

Sliding your hands around the back of his neck, one threaded through his hair as he wrapped his arms around more to pull you into his chest properly. His voice muffled as he rested it in your neck. “I’m not fighting this war without you, and I don’t want to.” 

Sensing he needed more ease, you scratched your nails along his scalp but the shudder he let out was strong. “What do you need? From me, right now?” 

Hands rough along your hips as he started running them up and down, you could feel his heart beating fast against your chest. One of his hands slid back, grasping one of the cheeks of your ass tightly while his mouth slid up to ear your. “What I need, is for you to be a good girl for me tonight. Can you do that?” 

He knew he had you by the hitch your breathe and how much tighter your nails dug into him at his own touch against you. It was unseemly just how quickly Robb could unravel everything that made you stoic, and quietly intimidating to those under you when he got you alone like this. He could make your body buzz with need only to be quenched as he told you what to do. It was just unfair how easily be had you so freely wanting to submit to him. 

Pulling away to look him his eyes you nodded at him yes. “Good.” Moving back, Robb sat at the edge of the bed. Legs spread and nodding for you to knee before him. Trying to keep your breathe even as he once more ran his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly before moving his hand away to grasp at your jaw. “Pull me out.” 

Your eyes and hands as focused as they were undoing his armour only this time you felt the wetness between your legs increase as you tugged his pants down just enough to grasp at his cock. Already hard, it was thick in your hand as you freed him and shuffled closer. Robb slid his hand to the back of your head. “You want to please me? Make your husband feel better?” Your hand tightened around his length more firmly as he spoke as if unaffected by your touch. “Suck my cock.” 

Pulling you closer to him, your eyes slid shut as you gently took the leaking tip of his cock into your mouth. Not pushing you to take more, just letting you slowly adjust to how much he would start stretching your lips open the deeper you would take him. The saliva gathering quickly and mixing with what bit of precum was already there he held you until he was confident your mouth was more then ready to soak his cock. 

The tiny sigh you let out as he slid deeper, his cock heavy on your tongue as you tasted him. Once he started pushing you down, you knew he’d push as far as you could take it. Which by now, was far more then the first time you ever took him in your mouth. He had trained your mouth well. 

Just as he teased your gag reflex, Robb loosened his grip letting you pull back on your own. He kept his touch to the back of your head but let you bob up and down his cock. Your thighs pressing together as you let him fill your mouth, the bit of saliva trailing from the side of your lips only increasing the more you ran your tongue over his length.

Your hands braced against his thighs, Robb moving to give you more space as he let out a groan, his head falling back, eyes sliding shut at the feeling. You sucked him eagerly like you couldn’t get enough and maybe that was exactly the case. Taking him as deep as you could handle, your face pressed up against the coarse hair around his cock before Robb pulled you off completely, you gasping for hair as he held you close enough to see the mix of saliva and his own seed drop from your lips. Yanking you to look up at him, he was breathing harsher and his teeth gritting together. “Can you take more?” 

Nodding your head, Robb smiled like a man on the hunt and you were just ripe for the attack. “Anything,” 

Almost hissing at the words, Robb coaxed you forward feeding you more of his cock once more now that you had caught your breathe. “Is that so? You going to let me do anything to you? Whatever I want?” You hummed against his cock, the need between your own legs growing in desire. “Let me fill your mouth like a pretty little whore, and then I’ll show you what I really want.”  

Robbs words rough but they blocked out everything beyond his sound and touch and taste. He throbbed in your mouth as you sucked his cock before pushing you down to once more brush against the hair at his base. “Fuck- oh good girl,” 

His hand in your hair loosening as he let go, cumming in your mouth and caressing you through how much he was giving you. His cum warm and thick that made him hard to swallow down when he held you so close, but he spilled all down your throat as you moaned around him. His mouth running as much as his cock spilled inside you, “Swallow all of me, my love. That’s right, just like a good little slut.” 

When he finally finished, he slowly pulled you off his cock. Wasting no time, he pulled you to sit up and straddle his lap as he kissed your lips. No shame in being able to taste himself on your tongue you leaned into his chest. Robb running a hand all through your hair, making a tangled mess of things as you begun kissing down his jaw and neck. 

Him how shivering at your touch, you had learned he wanted you to be rough with him when he was with you. Nights like tonight, he was a wolf who wanted you to play. 

Biting at the skin you could already feel him growing hard again, your lips licking and pressing a kiss to each mark you made, sinking lower and lower as you could to leave them along his collarbone. He watched you with hooded eyes, lips still parted as he tried desperately to control himself and failing. 

Pulling you up to look him in the eyes, Robb trailed his hand down between your legs and just as he teased the idea of easing you into it, he pushed two thick fingers inside of you down to the knuckles. A loud cry leaving your mouth as he did nothing to stop you from it. Only fucking you with them at a far faster pace then was kind, and you couldn’t get enough of it. 

How he played you like an instrument and the sounds were your moans and pleas of his name, and the sound of how wet you had become as he touched you. Your insides tightening quickly, far faster then it took you to bring him to the edge. “Sucking my cock get you this worked up?” 

Catching your eye as he fisted your hair tighter, your hands digging into his shoulders to keep yourself steady. “Yes, yes, it did. You always do,” Your voice so light and breathless as it faded into another cry as his thumb brushed your clit. “Make me feel so good, every part of you.” 

Gods help you when Robb found the moods to tease you about the way you sound, even worse when he reminds you that there is every single chance that his men have heard you. Their head strong Queen in the North who begs and cries for her King’s cock in the night. Maybe it was a good thing Theon was to leave for a while, you certainly knew he had been stockpiling that material to make fun of you with in private. 

You wanted to bury your face in the neck you just marked up, but he refused. Forcing you back to watch you, like keeping you at a distance as he touched you was just another ploy to make you melt. “Cum for me, soak my hand like a good girl and I’ll fuck you full of my cock. Is that what you want?” 

Through almost painful cries as he pushed you closer to the edge, you shook your head. Robb asking in such a sweetly mocking tone what it was you wanted then. “To please you, I oh fuck- please use me however you want, that's what I want, I promise,” 

Smiling in such a dark, dominating manner he leaned to brush his lips against yours. “That’s right, you’re here to please me like the needy slut you are.” Pressing his lips in a light kiss be rubbed tightly against your clit as you came around his fingers. Shaking in his hold as he kept you in place, watching your eyes struggle to even stay open. 

You had barley even started to come down before Robb moved, pushing you face down onto the bed before yanking your hips up in the hair. You suspect if he weren’t so worked up, he may have made you beg to fuck you, but before you even came down from your own orgasm he pushed inside of you. The stinging stretch still came with every time he fucked you, but you clenched around him as the aftershocks of pleasure came back to spike into your core again. 

Pushing his hips hard to fill you completely, you cried out his name as Robb grit his teeth and held you so tight you’d be bruised come morning. Whispering almost just to himself in wonder, “Fuck you’re still coming down,” He held you tighter before pulling back and thrusting inside of you once more. 

The pace he set fast and greedy, your hands clenching the sheets below you as you made no sounds that contained words other then, “Fuck”, “please,” or “Robb”. His cock pounding inside of you right against that sensitive wall that took away the rest of the air in your lungs. You felt like he could ask you to say, admit, or do anything when you were fucked like this and you wouldn’t think twice.

One hand ran down your spine before once more tangling in your hair as he held your head into the sheets, leveraging himself to fuck you with rougher thrusts. The need inside of you coiling so tightly that you could feel yourself getting more wet around his length. “Do you want to cum for me? Be a good little whore and cum all over my cock just so I’ll spill inside you?” Nodding as best you could he knew that you were falling deeper. His hand more gentle around your hair before sliding around to your neck and pulling you gently up as he thrusted slow but hard. “You always want my cum don’t you?” 

“Always, Robb, always. Please, gods my love, I need you.” 

Oh did that ever do Robb in, fucking into you with little regard for any rhythm as he spoke low over the delicious sounds of his hips slapping against your ass. “I need you too, I always fucking need you,” Gasping into the sheets you felt the coil snap and the pleasure burned right through you and tensing every muscle. Clenching around him hard, Robb lost his final sense of control, pushing inside deeply as he spilled inside of you.  

You felt light headed, floating in bed as he slowly pulled out of you. For a split moment when you couldn’t feel him at all, you fisted the sheets below you tightly almost anxiety bubbling in your chest at the lack of touch. Before you felt him cover your back, turning you to your side as he pulled your sweaty hair off of your face, kissing gently below your ear. His voice soothing you back to earth gently as you felt the haze doze off. 

Relaxing in his arms, you reached behind you to run your hand through his hair. Robb capturing you hand to press a kiss to your palm before sending it on it’s way, your name on his lips gentle in your ear “Talk to me, are you alright?” You nodded, and he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you back closer. “I didn’t push you too hard?” 

For all the rough touches and growling words Robb quickly learned that he didn’t feel relaxed after fucking you until he checked in. Making sure he didn’t go too roughly or was too strict with you. Shaking your head no he ran his nose over your cheek before relaxing behind you. 

It was quiet between you for a while before a question popped in your head. “Robb, why send your mother and not one of the other lords?” 

His voice was low and rumbling in your ear, not near sleep as you were but content to lay with you nonetheless. “I’ve known her my whole life, I trust her.” There was a pause before a tiny hint of a cheeky tone peeked through. “She’s also the least intimidating out of this lot. You really think Renly would respond well to someone like Roose or Maege?”

You both laughed in the others arms, “You have a point. A hundred thousand men and yet I don’t think any of them would be as tough as your mother is.” Once the Starks made you one of their own, it seemed like being a wolf is the inevitable outcome. 

What caught your attention just as you begun to drift off, was the way that no words or noise made from Robb in anyway occurred. His hand running up and down your side and yet as if obediently following a spoken order, Grey Wind made his way into the tent. His large frame circling around like any small dog before settling close by the bed. 

Robb’s hand had stopped moving as Grey Wind had done so, and only started up once the direwolf was inside and settling down for the night. To sleepy to focus on it, you let it slip your mind. 

The camp was in a hustle as they all prepared to move out, with the bulk of Tywin’s forces moving in on Harrenhal, it left pockets of lesser forces in the open. Robb determining they would be easy to wipe through, especially in the dead of night. Something, the Lannister forces had yet to catch on that it may be something to watch for. 

It was still quite early, the sun barley even awake as you made your way through the camp. Your eyes sharp, only softening a bit to nod at those giving a slight bow and “your grace” as you passed. Coming to one specific cell near the back, sat a face you wished you weren’t so familiar with. 

Ser Jaime Lannister, Kingslayer. As your father’s raven had so described him. Covered in filth and tied to a wooden pole, he didn’t look quite as fierce as his reputation proceeded. The guard opening the gate as you approached, obeying the nod of your head to step back for a moment to give you space with him. His mouth it seemed, was still working just fine. 

“I’m a lucky man, a visit from our dear Queen in the North so early in the morning.” Stepping inside, you felt the shiver of cold morning air that you could at least depend on going the more south you travelled today. “I can’t quite tell, is it just spending what? Months being dragged around by this ugly lot, or has leadership made you that much more ravishing.” You stared down as unmoving and unamused as ever before he dramatically rolled his eyes. “Still have your father’s charm I see.” 

Your arms crossing over your chest, voice as flat as could be. “I’d ask how you were fairing, but I think we both how little your answer would change anything.” Looking down at him, you still could see the same smug face that had mocked you and Lord Stark mere moments before a spear was shoved through his leg. “You had a late chat with the King last night, did you not?” 

“We did, hope that didn’t interfere with your plans too much. Though I suppose it didn’t, your husband doesn’t seem too bothered about anyone hearing you does he?” You only looked down at him, eyebrows raised as if to tell him if he has a point, to get to it. “Seems like a jealous man, making sure every man here knows what he does to you at night, just to mock them that it’s not them who gets it.” 

Stepping forward you marched right past his words. “Curiously, it seems like you did nothing but deny such allegations against you.” The pause in his face did in fact, stand out. “Odd because when Ned Stark approached your sister with the same, she sung like a bird. Told him all about how you were born together, so you belong together.” 

Something almost uncomfortable came over his face, for once, you found that hard to read. He was a hard man to read most of the time even past his words. “I assure you, my sister does an awful lot of talking and most of the time people just don’t seem to know when she’s lying.” 

“You also confessed to Lady Catelyn.” You also know a rough looking scar across his face was from a rock she hit him with. Even now, it made you proud that it looked like it must have hurt. “Told her the truth, told her how it was you who pushed her ten year old son out a window.” 

As if unable to find words, he just scrunched his face up in dismissal. “And?” 

Now that got a tiny smirk from you. Stepping closer once more, your eyes flickered to where his legs were spread. How easily he could kick you from here, but you were well aware he couldn’t get anywhere past those chains. “You push a child from a window beacuse he saw you with the Queen. You don’t deny pushing him, you don’t deny that you fucked her and yet when faced with the same thing you deny it to Robb Stark’s face. I’m just curious of the change of heart.” 

His eyes narrowed at you, both playing a game trying to read the other only it was a competition between two experts in such a matter. You hid in plain sight as well as he did, only with slightly less bloodshed and betrayals on your side of the river. “Tell me, would you confess your sins to him in my position?” 

Crouching down in front of him, you took no thought in how much you actually knew you should keep your distance. “Tell me, Lannister. What sins have I committed that you think puts me at your level?” 

He was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke, it was soft. Almost like a genuine question as something not as sinister sat behind his green eyes. “It’s not easy, keeping that sort of thing to yourself is it? No matter what your heart screams at you, the other part of you knows its far safer to keep it locked away. Don’t think about it if you don’t have to, and maybe it won’t eat away at you in guilt.” 

You stayed silent, watching him with a narrowed brow as he dumped it on you like a bucket of freezing water. “How close did you get? To giving yourself to him?” For all the pounding of your heart, you stayed as unmoving as a statue. “I wondered if you had at first, the way he looked at you, how you tried not to look back. Would have been easy I imagine. You spent so much time in the North, you both probably know just where to go to not get caught.” 

You shoved his face out of your mind. You made your choice, in mind and heart. And you don’t regret making that choice at all. Just let him play his game, he wouldn’t do anything more then say it to you. Hard to tell if he didn’t have any interest in playing the game of whispers as so many in Kings Landing did, or he just didn’t have the patience to try. “Next time I give myself to my husband for the first time I’ll be sure to invite you to witness the evidence first hand.” 

“He came close though. Very close. A man doesn’t look at a woman the way he did if he’s never been anywhere near close to fucking her.” Jaime leaned his head back against the post, almost resting casually like a chat between friends. “You wouldn’t let it get that far, though. Considering who you are, and who he is, or was should I say. Afterall you can’t get much further away from you then all the way up there.” 

It was hard to push him back out of your mind, the memory was clear. Most of your time with him as so clear you could reach out and brush your fingertips against it. But to do so, was to acknowledge what you wished would go away. Find a life that wasn’t marred in secrets of the heart. For a second you looked away, to the ground of nothing as a gear turned in your mind. 

If you didn’t admit the truth, you could pretend it wasn’t real. Meeting his eyes back with a curious scrutiny, you begun to suspect the same for him. Only you weren’t trying to make your way back to that life, you had made your peace with it and chose a future that could want you freely. 

You suspected Jaime Lannister however, didn’t have such a person in his life to give him that chance. 

In the quiet between you, keen ears begun to reach out to listen. The longer you spoke with him, the more that concern of you, perhaps the jealousy making it grow begun to take hold. Only the closer he got to the edges of the cage, the less anyone suspected. 

“It’s a shame. Tommen and Myrcella are good kids, maybe no one would quite have cared if your third didn’t turn out the way he did.” He had little to say, as you leaned in. “But the worse he gets, the louder those rumours are going to become. Best gets used to hearing them thrown at you, I won’t be the last.” 

As if something inside changed, he glanced over you. “Stark must be relieved you didn’t inherit your fathers looks along with his joyless personality.” Your face fell far more flat and whole unimpressed at his mocking. “Can’t imagine armour that dark or sleek looks good on any Baratheon, some dead ancestor of yours must have done the gods work to skip past all those brothers to land on you.” 

“I’ve seen enough of your family to know that most of your cousins weren’t blessed with the same looks.” 

The sheer confidence in him, to many times in Kings Landing had you spoken to him as he held such a high opinion, dangling it around like a marionette everyone should gawk and awe at. “Did I lose my hearing along with my freedom, or did the Queen in the North just give me a compliment?” 

Now this was a game you’ve played before, but with far more likeable and non condescending bantering partners. “I’m dull, not blind.” 

As he was cracking a smile, you heard the pattering of feed behind you curiously. “No, not when you’ve spent your life around Starks like that.” Nodding to the distance of nothing in particular. “You know, we aren’t actually related.” 

The steps grew behind you with no sound but them reaching you as the man spoke. “I always thought you’d be a bore in bed, but now I can’t help but be curious what kind of she wolf Stark has turned you into underneath all that.” 

In a second, a large figure leaped in beside you just as you stood to your full height. Grey Wind beside you in an aggressive display growling at him, Jaime leaning back with his eyes almost squeezed shut before you reached a hand out. Grasping onto the fur along the direwolf’s back ,Grey Wind backed off in a second. Standing large a foot out in front of you still, until you eyed the Lannister once more and turned away. 

Grey Wind took a moment before he too turned, and as he followed you along the way, you noted that he seemed much more like himself then moments before. Yet still followed you the way he only did for Robb. 

You didn’t clue in when later in the day, Robb had glanced in the direction of the cage Jaime was in as he pulled you into him with dark eyes and a greed in his voice that had your heart pumping a big harder. “If he speaks to you like that again, I’ll drag him into our tent and make him watch me take you apart until the sun rises.” 

It was a frustrating point the ride out, waiting on Theon about the Iron Islanders, waiting to hear on Renly. If they both said no, you and Robb would handle it but it was the in between times on horseback where you could see in the far off look in those bright blue eyes that spoke it. The frustration of trying to find just who your true allies were as so far the entire weight of this war rested on him alone. 

For all the talk of kings and armies, the only one who had the strength and ability to fight this war so far, was Robb. The only one posing a threat, even despite all the talk that he was young and over eager as the Lannisters continued to lose out. 

As unsure of his abilities as a King were in private, looking to him in those moments you saw nothing but what a real King is made of. Like Robb was not aware of the degree that his own men worshipped him. They chose him, and yet not once did he let any hubris take hold of that fact. 

Robb held his kingship like a weight that would sink him at any splash, and you couldn’t help but see something you had not watched in a King as long as you were alive. There were many claims of kings in this realm now, and perhaps it was your own bias, your own love that spoke of such an opinion. 

But the only one you could say had the strength of a man that makes him worthy of King, was the man next to you. Jaime Lannister had a point in some, but you had done what he refused to do. Chose a life, taken a path that would lead you to where you truly were supposed to be. 

And the way Robb looked at you back, and the way his men never looked at you as less then? It was hard to image yourself in this life that didn’t bring you to here and now. 

That confidence in the day however, wasn’t the same confidence that danced in your dreams once the sun went down. In the dark of nights, fast asleep was when the dreams of cold and ice came to you, ones that filled you with a fear you didn’t even think was yours. 

You told no one of the night you dreamt of that tall figure, of the cries of a newborn baby and the striking eyes so blue they felt not of this earth and how those eyes carried away those infants cries into the darkness before you awoke. 

Nor did you know why in the few seconds between waking from such a dream, to falling back asleep, did you think of Jon. 

[nostalgicnarrator]

Over Hill and Under Mountain

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Word Count: 1,555

Parings: Thorn X Bilbo

Description:

Thorin leaves Erebor to visit his dear friend Bilbo, will new feeling shine through? What will happen?

Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Note:

Listen to me I’ve never done anything like this before, I have written and sure I have posted one of two things and immediately abandoned them. If you want to give me constructive criticism or feedback please do I wanna get better at this kind of thing.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Thorin had sent a letter to Bilbo not too long ago by raven, telling him of his departure from his kingdom and hopefully swift arrival. It had been a year since he had last seen his hobbit.

Thorin had found himself missing his hobbit. Even with the regular letters between them, now It had only been a week since he had gotten the last letter and Thorin had begun to feel a sort of ache in his chest the longer he went without contact from Bilbo.

Now the King Under the Mountain found himself hundreds of miles away from his Lonely Mountain, the one he had left in questionably capable hands, right back were it all began a year ago now, and getting himself lost once again on the roads and in the Shire. passing farms and burrows, even at one point finding himself on the road to brea. He had turned red when he realized, though he wont tell you that, and turned back hoping to find the burrow of his hobbit.

Thorin grumbled as he thought to himself and took another turn down a path he swears he’s seen hundred times before. ‘Now if I can just- have I already been here before?’ Thorin thought, sighing. ‘Mahal, am I even in the right place?’

When Thorin passed a deceptively familiar-looking farm, one he had to have passed twice now, he sighed and swung his pack off his shoulders to fish for a map. Maybe it can help him figure out where he was.

That’s when he heard a very familiar voice. “Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, as lost as a chicken with no head.” The voice was full of a teasing tone as it spoke.

Thorin whipped around and looked at the familiar small hobbit, his caramel-colored curls wild on his head, suggesting that he hadn’t done much more than wake up and throw clothes on. The hobbit seemed to be wrapped and almost gilded in gold in the light of the early sun, the old dwarf couldn’t fight himself from blushing at the hobbit.

His undershirt was a buttery yellow, a little warn but clearly loved, and his pants an emerald green that could put any gemstone that the king had seen to shame. The bottom of his pants were embroidered with flowers and other things hobbits seemed so enchanted by. The hobbit had no waistcoat, so his suspenders were visible. He stood not a few paces behind where Thorin stood. Thorin only just began to notice how long he had been staring at his hobbit.

Bilbo was smiling broadly, chuckling fondly at the sight of the bewildered and red faced king. Thorin didn’t wait long to rush forward and embrace his friend in a hug, which the hobbit gladly returned it with just as much enthusiasm. Thorin patted Bilbo’s shoulder affectionately and looked down at him when he pulled away from the hug.

Thorin smiled as he spoke. “Bilbo Baggins, and here I thought I’d have to stumble around here for a day until I found you.”

Bilbo laughed and grasped at the dwarf’s arms as he leaned a little closer before teasing. “Now what kind of hobbit would I be if I let one of my guests stumble his way around here like a newborn fawn?” Bilbo said as he moved to hook Thorin by the arm to lead him up a path toward his burrow. “Let’s get you inside and I’ll find you something to eat! I’m sure you are starving.”

And that’s where Thorin found himself, sitting in an uncomfortably comfortable armchair in the living room of Bilbo’s burrow. He watched the small hobbit as he made tea, to quote, ‘hold him over’ till Bilbo was done cooking.

The warmth that wafted from the kitchen seemed to almost lull the king to sleep. The next time his eyes opened, Bilbo was handing him a warm mug of tea that smelled and tasted sweetly of elderberry and mint And a cloth that held a sweet blackberry tart.

Bilbo headed back to the kitchen to continue his task of making breakfast for the two of them. Thorin stood to follow after him, leaning against the door frame as Bilbo mixed something together in a bowl. He found himself observing the hobbit’s every movement, from the way his curls bounced as he worked to the concentration furrowing his brow.

‘He really is quite charming,’ Thorin mused, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘The way he moves about his kitchen, so at ease, so… endearing. Why didn’t I see it before?’

Bilbo grinned at Thorin when he pulled himself a chair over. After a brief silence, Bilbo asked, “How are the renovations of your kingdom going?”

Thorin sighed, closing his eyes as thoughts of Erebor’s restoration filled his mind. They had found that the old techniques of his forefathers had been forgotten or abandoned for more useful skills during the time they had lost their home. But Thorin couldn’t help the pride that swelled within him at the thoughts of his people and how he and his Company had reclaimed his home. And how he feels that his hobbit was to thank for that.

Thorin let his voice sound as tired as he felt, as he spoke, “They are progressing well, but it seems many of the secrets of my people have seemingly been forgotten over the years.” He looked at the mug he held, now half full and tart long gone. He rolled the mug in his hands, it being a tad bit smaller than any other mug he was used to. It had flowers and soft things painted underneath its glaze.

“Still,” Thorin hummed and looked to Bilbo now. ‘Have his eyes always been so sweet?’ “It will be grand and restored to the best of our ability.”

Bilbo hummed and went back to cooking. He scrambled eggs in a hot pan. “Well, I wait patiently to see. You better keep me updated properly this time.” Bilbo said with a bit of a teasing tone and smile. Then he stopped what he was doing, looked at Thorin again as he set a plate down on the counter, and started plating food.

“I dare ask, you are staying a few days, are you not?” Bilbo asked. Thorin felt his breath catch in his throat. He had to think a little harder than he was used to, to speak.

“Yes,” Thorin nodded as he spoke. He found himself once again thinking of Bilbo, the way his eyes sparkled with curiosity and care. ‘Why does my heart quicken every time he looks at me?’ Thorin wondered, a bit confused by his own feelings.

“Then, who is running the kingdom in your absence?” Bilbo inquired.

“Fíli,” Thorin replied with a fond smile. “He is capable and eager to prove himself. And I am not one to disappoint.”

Bilbo nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer. “Ah, well, I am sure he is quite excited, and I am sure Lady Dís is not pleased at your sudden absence not too long after you have taken back your mountain.” Bilbo teased lightly as his eyes shined with mischief.

Thorin found himself chuckling and nodding softly. “No, she is not, but it will be a good experience for the lad to practice how it truly is to run a kingdom.”

“I see…” Bilbo hummed and pulled a loaf from the oven, setting it at the table to cool.

“How has the Shire been?” Thorin found himself asking as he helped Bilbo’s food find its way to the dining room table.

Bilbo’s face lit up happily as he smiled “Oh! Well, the Shire has been peaceful, as always. You know how things can be here, quiet!” He started digging through the cabinets for more plates. “And! I’m sure you saw on your way here but the fields are green with new crops, the harvest looks promising.” He said.

As Bilbo went to grab his cutlery as he spoke he gasped and looked to Thorin before almost yelling. “Oh! Do you remember what I told you happened a week ago well! It had happened again!!Lobelia Sackville-Baggins has tried to make off with my good silver again!”

Thorin watched Bilbo with growing affection and amusement as he animatedly recounted the events of the Shire. ‘He gets so heated over these things,’ Thorin thought, finding it endearing. ‘How could someone be so fiercely protective and yet so gentle?’

They continued to talk as Bilbo and Thorin prepared and set up breakfast. The aroma of freshly baked bread and bacon filled the air. As they sat down to eat, Thorin felt a deep contentment.

As Bilbo went on about the Shire and what had been happening since his last letter to the king only a week ago, Thorin thought to himself, ‘This visit with Bilbo,’ he mused as Bilbo went on about how some children had trampled over his marigolds, ‘will be as lovely as I imagined.’

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

There it is, please don’t get to mad at me if I have made a mistake or messed something up. Okay, please leave feedback! Let me know what I can do better next time!