#��The truth is I am a child in a way. A child who spends his time alone and never gets to do anything interesting.”

[maddymoreau]

Thinking about how Diavolo’s feelings transcend time and how in the Nightbringer UR+ card Demon Lord’s Castle Tour this conversation happens.

When asked, “Do you wish to see your father?”

Diavolo responds:

“I suppose I do . . .” isn’t the typical reaction to how a child would feel about wanting to see their parent. Especially when said parent has essentially been in a coma for a year.

Along with how Diavolo describe his father.

It makes more sense why when you learn in Lesson 56 how Diavolo was treated by him growing up.

Diavolo can tell when others are lying but is unable to understand his father’s intentions.

Diavolo mentions that he lived a very sheltered life growing up. That from a young age his father never allowed him a chance to talk to anyone outside the castle.

His childhood friend was Mephistopheles. A demon literally RAISED to be his friend. Putting a barrier between the two because Mephistopheles would put Diavolo on a pedestal.

The isolating childhood he experienced riddled with his strict father constantly scolding him.

Despite everything MC is so important to him he wants to see his father again so we can meet.

[mechaknight-98]

Apprehension (NSFW) FT Hanni

Author’s note: A request I finally found time to finish up. Same world as The Momo fic.

You had heard about the wondrous healing properties that Priesteses of Amora had but were unsure of them until you decided to visit one.

Your approach is patient but labored. As you hobble into the monastery the first Priestess approaches you. She has long jet-black hair big amorous eyes and plump lips she smiles at you.

The white-garbed Priestess begins to speak to you, "Hello Traveler you look weary. How may I help you?" you breathe in and swallow your pride.

"I came to your Monastery for healing as it's reported that this is the best in the land," you say. The Priestess smiles before letting you in. You follow her steadied by your walking stick that has accompanied you on many journeys. As you enter the monastery you begin to see others in various states of harm and duress being attended to by women, of all ages and sizes. this puts you at ease as you follow the priestes.

she turns to you as you walk and she slows down.

"Tell me about yourself. I can see you carry a great burden, but what else ails you?"

You feel compelled to tell her the truth as is magically influenced, "I am a warrior blessed by Ira but when I was tasked with hunting the one we call the 7-eyed serpent. I failed as his attack broke my body and left me pallid and in squalor. So I have been trying to undo his damage but as you can see. the damage he has done has been irrecoverable. I came here as my last resort," you explain as you make eye contact with the priestess. She frowns, then responds

"Well Wolf-blessed I am glad you came, and although I wished you came earlier we will still be able to mend you. After all who will save us from the devourer of gods?" the priest says to you calmly. You nod as she leads you into a room full of food and drink.

"Before we heal you we must know you. the easiest way to do so is by sharing a meal, and our names. Allow me to go first. My name is Hanni. what is yours wolf-blessed?"

"My name is Achilles." You say Hanni smiles as the two of you share a meal, and you begin to grow closer physically and emotionally.

"So Achilles tell me about your dreams?"

"Well I um," you stammer. Hanni looks at you with bright eyes and a soft heart. you ease in her presence.

"I wanted to be a Painter but for my family, I discarded my dreams to be a Knight. Despite the honor and wealth, it garnered my family. I still wish to spend my days painting, but with the Seven-eyed serpent on the loose, I can't." you explain.

As Hanni places a steaming bowl of stew in front of you, the rich aroma fills the air. The room is warm and inviting, with sunlight streaming through a small window, casting a gentle glow on the rustic wooden table.

you take a moment to savor the food, the flavors a comforting balm to your weary soul. you look up at Hanni, who is watching him intently, her eyes filled with curiosity and understanding.

"My family has always been dedicated to the path of the combatant," you begin, your voice soft yet resonant. "My father was a knight, as was his father before him. It was expected that I would follow in their footsteps, to uphold the family virtue and protect our lands."

Hanni nods, listening intently. "And yet, you wished to be a painter," she says gently, prompting him to continue.

"Yes," you admit, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. "Ever since I was a child, I found solace in art. The colors, the textures—they spoke to me in a way that the clang of swords never could. But my family... they saw painting as a frivolous pursuit, a distraction from duty."

Hanni tilts her head, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder like a waterfall. "I understand the weight of expectations," she says softly. "My family has served the goddess Amora for generations. My mother was a priestess, as was my grandmother. It was always assumed I would take up the mantle."

"Was it your choice?" you question, your curiosity piqued.

Hanni pauses, considering her words. "In a way, yes. I do find joy in healing others, and in bringing love and compassion into the world. But there are times when I wonder... what if I had chosen a different path? Something not laid out for me by tradition?"

your eyes meet, a shared understanding passing between them. In that moment, you are not just a priestess and a warrior, but two souls navigating the complexities of their own desires and responsibilities.

"You know," Hanni continues, her voice thoughtful, "our paths may be different, but they are not so dissimilar. Both of us have had to sacrifice parts of ourselves for the sake of others."

you nod slowly, absorbing her words. "It's true. Perhaps that's why I find it so easy to talk to you. You understand the struggle."

you both sit in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the gentle clinking of their spoons against the bowls. Then Hanni speaks again, her tone playful yet sincere.

"Maybe one day, when the threat of the Seven-eyed Serpent has passed, you can paint again," she suggests, her eyes twinkling with hope.

You chuckle, a lightness returning to your spirit. "And perhaps you will find a way to weave your own dreams into your duties here."

You share a smile, a bond forming between you that goes beyond words. As you two finish your meal, Hanni reaches out, taking your hand in hers.

"Whatever happens," she says softly, "know that you have a friend here, and perhaps even a partner in exploring what lies beyond our duties."

You squeeze her hand, gratitude and warmth flooding his heart. "Thank you, Hanni."

After sharing their dreams and struggles over the meal, Hanni leans back in her chair, her eyes reflecting a mix of admiration and curiosity. The afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the room, making the moment feel almost serene.

"Achilles," she begins, her voice gentle but inquisitive, "would you tell me about your encounter with the Seven-eyed Serpent? I can only imagine the courage it must have taken to face such a creature."

Achilles hesitates the memories of the battle flooding back with vivid intensity. He takes a deep breath, his expression shifting to one of solemn reflection.

"He was unlike anything I had ever faced," you start, your voice steady but tinged with an edge of lingering awe.

Hanni's eyes widened as she asked, "The Seven-Eyed Serpent is a man?"

"I think so, or maybe a malevolent spirit possessing an armor.," You explain. Hanni's eyes widened in shock as you continue

"The Seven-eyed Serpent... it was as if I was confronting a force of nature itself. The sheer size of it was overwhelming, and its eyes—each one held a different kind of malice, a different shade of intent." Hanni listens, captivated, as you continue, gesturing with your hands as if painting the scene before her.

"The battle was one-sided from the start," you explain. "We were a band of skilled warriors, but even our combined strength felt like a drop in the ocean against the Serpent's might. It struck with the force of a thousand dragons, each blow like a tempest of destruction."

You pause, as your gaze grows distant as if reliving the moment. "Its scales were harder than the toughest armor, its breath like fire. We were outmatched, and I knew it. But we fought with everything we had, driven by the hope that our courage might be enough."

Hanni leans in, her eyes wide with empathy and respect. "And yet, you survived. You faced the Serpent and lived to tell the tale."

You nod, a faint smile touching your lips despite the somberness of the memory. "Barely. Its attack shattered my defenses and left me broken. But in that moment, as I lay there, I realized that survival sometimes means more than just enduring the physical battle. It means learning from defeat, finding strength in vulnerability."

Hanni reaches across the table, her hand resting on your arm, offering comfort and solidarity. She notices the scars, and damage still present in the limb ."Your bravery is undeniable, Achilles. And your journey is far from over. Perhaps here, at the monastery, you'll find the healing you seek—not just for your body, but for your spirit as well."

as Hanni finishes smiles and says, “I like you and I think I’ll take you on Achilles,” she inches closer to you

Hanni smiled at you as she cradled your face in her hands. The softness put you at ease as she kissed your forehead.

“You’re safe with me Achilles.” She says bringing you close to her chest. You feel the room begin to heat up with magic energy and it stirs a fire within you of desire and want. Hanni breaks her embrace as you look into her eyes. The soft pools of the brown team with a desire for you as she begins to kiss you. She traces over your body as magic wraps around you mending unhealed tendons, bones, and cartilage. When you break the kiss Hanni smiles.

“Take me Achilles.” She says. You smile before kissing her again her lips are puffy but sweet. They remind you of pastries from your home island. Her tongue swirls and tastes you as the kiss deepens. You moan distracted as she has her way with you. She disrobes you first before placing your hands on her chest. You massage her clothed chest mesmerized by it. "Oh yes, Baby keep going Hanni moans as she removes her bottom robes. She gives you a lurid look as she impales herself on your cock

“Oh my, your sword is so big!” Hanni exclaims as she takes you in you smile as you pick her up and rut into her. Drinking off arousal Hanni moans as she does you notice more of your wounds healing. Hanni smiles. “This is the power of Amora. Each priestess of hers is granted a partner for life.” Hanni explains. You laugh as you thrust. Hanni stifles a moan by pouring.

“Why are you laughing?” She asks annoyed.

You laugh saying, “So you’re saying we’re wedded now?”

Hanni connects the dots and says, “I guess you’re right. We are!” She moans as your cock continues to ravage her.

“So as my wife what do you want to do after this for our honeymoon,” you ask.

Hanni smiles and says “A retreat where they can’t find us. Where we do whatever we want?” Hanni says as her walls clench on you tighter and tighter.

“I’d like that.” You say as you cum inside of her. Hanni moans reaching her high as you continue to fuck her through her orgasm.

Weeks later

The afternoon sun poured through the tall windows of their secluded villa, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. The gentle sound of waves lapping at the shore outside provided a soothing backdrop, a perfect harmony to the tranquil setting within.

Hanni sat comfortably on a chaise lounge, her posture relaxed and graceful, her gaze fixed on the horizon. She wore a simple, flowing gown, its light fabric moving softly with the breeze that drifted in from the open window. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, catching the sunlight and framing her face with an ethereal glow.

Across the room, you stood before a canvas, his brush moving deftly, capturing the essence of the scene before you. Your eyes flicked back and forth between Hanni and the painting, your concentration evident in the furrow of your brow and the slight curve of your lips as you worked.

“You make it look so effortless,” Hanni remarked, her voice gentle and filled with admiration.

You paused, your gaze meeting hers with a tender smile. “It’s easy when the subject is as captivating as you,” you replied, your words sincere and filled with affection.

Hanni blushed, a soft pink tinting her cheeks. “I never imagined I’d be a muse,” she said, her tone playful yet touched by genuine wonder.

You chuckled softly, returning focus to the canvas. “You’ve always been my muse, Hanni. Even before I realized it.”

As you painted, the room seemed to hold its breath, time stretching as the two of you became lost in the moment. The sound of the sea, the warmth of the sun, and the gentle rustling of the curtains created a cocoon of peace around them, a world that existed only for you.

After some time, you stepped back from the easel, assessing your work with a critical eye before nodding with satisfaction. “Done,” you declared, wiping your hands on a cloth.

Hanni rose from her seat and crossed the room to stand beside you, her eyes widening as she took in the painting. It captured not only her likeness but the essence of the moment—the serenity, the love, and the subtle magic of their honeymoon.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, turning to you with tears of happiness glistening in her eyes.

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close. “Just like you,” you murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Together, you stood in silence, wrapped in each other’s embrace, content in the knowledge that this was only the beginning of their journey together—a journey filled with art, love, and countless moments of shared wonder.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Rescue pt. 2: knight!price x princess!reader

Warnings: talk of pregnancy, medieval standards for women

A little longer than normal

Sir John Price’s hands were gentler than they looked.

He led you to the river when he saw the cut on your arm, and had you sit on a nearby rock. He barely said a word to you, just merely told you to sit while he grabbed a pouch out of his horses saddle and went to the river.

When he returned, he came back with a wet rag and kneeled beside you. He hesitated to touch you before he gently began to clean the blood from your skin.

You expected him to hold your arm firmly, to pull at your skin and create friction but instead he held you delicately. He was careful as he cleaned your wound, his gentleness a stark contrast to the bloodshed he created just moments before.

Every touch from his warm fingers made goosebumps form and set your skin aflame.

You jerked when the wound stung and he stopped.

“I’m sorry, my hands are rougher than most.” He apologized as if he caused the wound.

You’re at a loss of what to say.

You’d never seen this side to him, to the knight who you bickered and fought with, who you were sure hated your guts, who had become your shadow. You thought he was incapable of it, or at the very least incapable of showing this side to you.

“It was irresponsible for you to run off like that.” He scolded you and you scowled.

“Save the lecture, I’m not a child.” You snapped at him and his eyes narrowed.

“You run off into the forest without a care, you play into fantasies about secret admirers and ignore your duty as a princess-“

“Watch the way you speak to me.”

“Someone should tell you the truth, I’m not afraid of you.”

You pushed him away and stood up. You hated the way hands shook as you glared at him.

“You know nothing about me!” You shouted. “My entire life is for my people and I have always put them first. I spend every moment waiting for the day I’m sold like cattle in the name of peace while everyone looks at me like I’m a prize to be won.”

Your mouth moved faster than your thoughts. It was improper to your knight this, to even speak of your thoughts like this out loud but you were at your wits end.

“I listen to others boast about themselves so I can choose them while they don’t even see me-“

“You seemed happy when the king did it-“

“Because it’s my duty! If I don’t marry him then i am failure…I am nothing more than a link in a chain of security.”

Your throat was tight and you could hardly breathe.

“My life has never been my choice.” You choked out. “I am destined to be an object that creates an heir and thrown to the side once I’ve served my purpose.”

Price was silent and your ragged breaths were the only thing that took up the air.

You felt awful for your feelings. These things were irresponsible, you were selfishly thinking more about yourself than the greater good but you were so desperate for something different.

“Why did you run?” Price asked, his tone softer.

You blinked as the back of your eyes stung with tears.

“I had to get away.”

Your emotions swirled like a storm within you, your thoughts a mess. The attack, your marriage, his kindness, it was all too much.

A surge of tears hit you and you sat down on the rock again, hiding your face in your hands as they began to fall down your face. You stifled your sobs because you didn’t want to degrade yourself anymore in front of him.

He stepped in front of you.

“Your highness, do you wish to marry the king?” Price’s voice was calm and firm yet there was a softness that struck your chest.

“I have to-“

“No.”

Your eyebrows knitted together and you looked up from your hands.

Price kneeled in front of you, much like how squires are when they wait for the Queen to knight them so they can serve the kingdom. His cold blue eyes stared at you as if he waited for a command, a sort of devotion only one could have for someone who they served implicitly.

He waited patiently for you to answer, his eyes trained on your face as you wiped away your tears.

You debated on whether you should say it or not, but he already thought you irresponsible. What more did you have to lose?

“No.”

Price stated at you for a moment before he seemed to come to terms with what you said. There was a sense of finality in his eyes as he nodded, before he stood and pulled out the pouch.

“Let me finish tending to your wound, your highness.” He began to apply a salve that cool the irritation of your cut. “Then I’ll escort you back to the castle.”

You didn’t protest as he wrapped the wound with a cloth.

After he had helped you on his horse he led you through the forest back towards the castle. You were still at war with yourself, utterly exhausted and a mess of emotions as you sealed your fate to be married to the king in just a week.

You tried to control your tears which only led to more falling as you sniffled like a child.

“I’m sorry.” You’re not sure why or what you apologized for.

“I won’t judge you.” He assured you. “Even if you stain the saddle.”

You scoffed, a smile pulling at your lips even as you let a few more tears slip.

Once you were back at the castle he helped you down from his horse, his hand against yours creating a sort of shock between the both of you before you bid him goodnight.

You did your best to hid your wound until you were in the safety of your bedchamber, where you found yourself having finally given up on being free.

~

Sir John Price had never felt such anger when he saw you cry.

It had never really occurred to him that you would feel the way you did, trapped and worthless, when you were more than that. He never realized that the suitors who he thought you entertained because you wanted to, made you feel that way, that he made you feel that way.

He’d think more on it if he had the time. He wanted to do more than what he was going to do, but there was only so much a knight could do.

Your tears and words stirred something inside him.

Price watched you enter the castle, his hand trembling from your touch. Your skin was softer than he imagined, warmer than the rays of the sun, and had sent a current of electricity through him.

What he was about to do was risky, but he was willing to take that leap if it meant it dried your tears.

He returned to the barracks, where he had called a meeting between his own men before he managed to catch a glimpse of you running to the forest.

He was lucky he had got there in time. He felt sick thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t. The rage he felt seeing blood on you was unprecedented for him.

Fate seemed to be in his favor however. Sir Simon Riley had returned from the king’s kingdom after he had sent him there for information as he refused to let the Queen marry you off without first knowing who the king was.

From what he saw today, he was not much. Even a knight like himself could see the taint he carried and he couldn’t believe the Queen allowed it, so he hoped that she didn’t know any better.

He desperation to marry you off was worrisome but he didn’t have time for that.

“What did you find?” Price asked when he returned to the table.

“A declaration of war, yet to be announced.” Simon set the scroll on the table. “And no money.”

“Steamin’ Jesus, he wants to pulls us into war.” Sir John MacTavish uncrossed his arms in disbelief.

“We’re not equipped for this.” Kyle said and looked to Price. “Not without proper preparation.”

Price stared at the pieces of paper. The audacity the king had to exploit the Queen in such a way, knowing that he could’ve had support if he had asked, but perhaps he wanted to assurance there would be if he married you, especially since he had no money.

It would embarrass her. It was enough reason to call of the wedding.

Enough reason to save you.

The moment you told him that you truly did not want to marry the king, he told himself he would find a way to break the marriage between the two of you by any means necessary.

“The Queen won’t stand for this.” Price swayed his hips. “I’ll notify her immediately.”

“Delving into politics, sir?” Kyle teased and he huffed.

“Kate’s gone, I have no choice.”

He took the pieces of paper and walked towards the castle. He was just as convincing as Kate could be and with evidence it wouldn’t be hard.

He was determined to not fail and though it was uncommon for him to show himself at the Queen’s quarters he was not afraid of what she might say to him.

“Your majesty,” he bowed deeply when she answered the door. “I have troubling information about our guest.”

~

The next morning was tense. The throne room lacked the regular court but the Queen and you sat in your throne’s while the king stood the eyes of your mother’s judgement.

Price stood at the bottom of stairs and watched the panic course through the king with indifference.

“You lied to me, to my daughter and expect us to take it lightly?” The Queen’s words were laced with venom.

“It wasn’t a lie, your majesty!” He protested but she raised her hand to stop him.

“I ask for peace and you bring me war, I ask for prosperity and you give me nothing.”

Price glanced at you and noticed the shock on your face. You were told to join your mother suddenly and the new information had been kept tightly sealed until this moment to keep the scandal at a minimum. You had gone into this blind and though he regretted that, he hoped your relief would make up for it.

“We are a strong kingdom who values strong allies, you are more reckless than a wild boar.” The Queen spat and the king sputtered. “I’ll have none of this in my court.”

The king tried to come up with some excuse but The Queen stood up. The air was thick as he looked down her nose at him.

“Sir John,” she said and Price looked to her. “Have your men escort him out the castle.”

“Yes, your majesty.” He bowed as she made her way out of the throne room.

“We will discuss your marriage another day, my darling.” She said to you and all you could do was nod.

Price watched his men escort the king out of throne room and all that was left was him and you.

He turned to you and you shared a look.

You looked surprised but visibly relieved. You stared at him with a sense of awe but also uncertainty as if you couldn’t quite believe what happened. Thought he didn’t outright say it was him, he was sure you had your suspicions about whether or not this was his doing.

He hopes that maybe this would partially make up for his mistakes against you.

“This was irresponsible, Sir John.” You finally said and he raised an eyebrow.

“My duty is to protect the crown…” he argued. “If you’re implying that this was my doing, however I can assure you I had no hand in this.”

You quirked an eyebrow and the corner of your lips twitched. He couldn’t help but admire the twinkle of amusement in your eyes with a sense of awe that struck him harder than anything before.

It was a small lie, one to save face and to provide a chance to keep sentimental feelings at bay for the time being.

“Is that so, sir?”

“It would seem it.”

You stood up and made your way to him. There was a sense of vulnerability within your eyes as you struggled to meet his and he found himself almost begging that you would look at him.

“Thank you.” You said barely above a whisper.

Price blinked a couple times and before he bowed.

“Of course, your highness.”

A/n: what does Price say? Violence and timing? He sure if efficient when it comes to you.

Tags. @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze

[strawberryspence]

They both have different stories when asked, "When did you first meet?"

Steve says it was in school, along the hallways with freshman Steve Harrington and sophomore Eddie Munson locking eyes for the first time. Eddie says it was in a party, drinking beer and selling drugs, a transaction.

Annalyn Harrington knows the truth. The truth that way before monsters, way before creatures from games came true, way before the end of the world, way before everything, that Eddie and Steve have already met.

Annalyn remembers it, so vividly at the back of her mind. She babysits her nephew— her younger sister, Amanda's son— so often. Steve is an angel, so innocent and kind. Annalyn often questions as to how Richard Harrington could've ever had a son so pure and good.

She remembers that day. It was a bright spring day, with fresh daisies growing on the fields and birds chirping in excitement.

Annalyn takes Steve out of his school a few hours early, takes him to eat at his favorite diner. When Steve begs for her to take him to the park, telling her he really wants to play and how could she say no to those brown eyes?

It's relatively empty when they arrive at the park. It's only after lunch and the kids are still in class. But there's one kid playing in the swings, his hair is curly at the ends, wearing a tattered jacket as he kicks the sands. His guardian— a man sitting on the only bench— is watching him closely. He's frowning, deep in thought.

"Go play. Be nice." Annalyn reminds Steve, more as a habit rather than a reminder. She knows Steve will be kind, it's engraved in his soul.

Annalyn sits beside the man, quietly watching as they hear Steve introduce himself to the kid.

"Hello! I am Steve!" She hears him say, waving slightly at the kid.

The kid looks at him, blinks for a few seconds before he says his name. They chatter for a few more minutes, Steve asks if he wants to be pushed and the boy says yes.

Annalyn turns to the man, "Is that your son?"

The man turns to her, "I— Yes— No— It's complicated." He sighs, gritting his teeth so hard Annalyn can see his jaw clenching, "He's my nephew. I just got custody of him today."

"Oh." Annalyn breathes out, looking back at the kid who's now pushing Steve instead. Both laughing and giggling.

"I don't know what I am doing. I can barely take care of myself, let alone a child." The man continues, clearly frustrated and scared, "But he's never got a good home and I want to give that to him."

Annalyn smiles, "Just the fact that you want to give him a good home is telling me that you'll be just fine. Don't overthink it, life's too short for that."

The man blinks at her, and it's almost the same as the look the small boy gave to Steve, "Thank you." He says, finally smiling and looking back at the kids, running around and playing tag with each other.

"Steve's your boy?" He asks.

Annalyn smiles, "Yeah, he's my boy. Not my son, just my nephew. But I love him like he's mine."

The man softens, nodding along like he completely understands— which he does.

They spend half of the afternoon there. Just playing, rolling around the grass, swinging each other in the swings. Just before the sun sets, Annalyn asks Steve to say goodbye to the boy.

There's daisies tucked in his hair like flower crowns, and she sees the other boy, with a flower tucked behind his ear. They're whispering, too intimate for a simple goodbye.

Steve waves at the boy, head sticking out of the car, waving until they can barely see the other boy anymore and until they turn the block.

When Steve sits, he turns to her and with his big brown eyes blown wide, with his whole heart in his hands and says, "I am going to marry that boy."

And Annalyn steps on the break, turns to the side of the road and has to turn to her nephew and look at him— really, look at him. Steve smiles at her, toothy and all gummy, determination bleeding in his eyes. The flowers the boy Steve just said he's going to marry still hanging from his hair.

She can't help but smile, moving closer to kiss his temple.

"Alright, Mr. Lover." Steve giggles, and she wants to hear it for the rest of her life, want to shield him from all the horrors of this world.

"Listen to me, okay?" Steve nods, "There's nothing wrong with wanting to marry a boy. But you have to promise me something, Steve? Okay?"

He nods, earnest, "It needs to be our little secret for now, okay? You have to promise me."

Steve's face droop into sadness, "Why?"

Annalyn's heart breaks into pieces, "Because people don't like it when a boy wants to marry another boy. There's nothing wrong with it, but they will hurt you and they will hurt that boy."

"They can't hurt him!" Steve protests.

"I know, honey. That's why we have to keep it a secret for now."

"Okay," Steve nods, stoic and strong, "I'll protect him. I won't tell anyone. Promise."

Annalyn smiles, "Good job, Steve. I am proud of you."

They drive back home, have dinner and build forts in the spacious Harrington living room.

She remembers that day. The day Steve wanted to marry that boy. The daisies tucked in his hair. The other little boy beaming so brightly, like it's always been meant to be. The results of the tests. The cancer coming back. The chemo is not working. The time she has left. But most of all, she remembers Steve.

Annalyn dies six months after that exact day.

It's years and years later when the story is brought back up. On one random morning when Steve visits her grave, with a bunch of tulips in his hands. Steve tells the story of the boy with the daisies to his best friend, Robin, as they sit side by side by her grave. Steve tells her, that he never saw the boy again.

Annalyn laughs as she listens.

She laughs, as another boy comes out of no where, picnic basket in hands, and daisies in the other.

"Eddie! You're late!" Steve exclaims, making the other boy roll his eyes. The boy looks different now, with longer hair, a look in his eyes that is way beyond his age. But he's happier, older.

"I am sorry, Stevie. But I picked you this."

They lay the blanket, and eat with her, just like old times, just with new friends. Annalyn wishes she could say hello, and formally meet his friends. The friends that sticked with Steve even in life or death situations.

Steve cleans her grave, "Auntie, we're here for a reason. I have some news."

Annalyn raises her eyebrows, "Eddie and I— We're engaged."

"I hope to God you don't haunt me. I just want your approval." Eddie says, making Steve laugh. It's the same sound as when he was a kid, and only Eddie (and his found family) can elicit it from him nowadays.

"Anyway, it's not legal or anything. But we're doing it with family, you know?" Steve plays with the ring in his hand, just a simple golden band, "I wish you were here."

Annalyn wants to tell him that she is, that she's always here, "I wanted you to walk me down the aisle. I want you to meet Eddie."

They stay for a few more minutes, before they finally start packing up and cleaning.

Just before they leave, Steve whispers to her grave, "Come to my wedding, okay? Move a few glasses. Maybe say hi to El or something. Just be there, please?"

Annalyn laughs, and nods, and promises that she'll be there. She watches as Steve and Eddie, hands intertwined, walk together as Robin starts the car.

Steve turns one last time, waves at her grave, his engagement ring catching sunlight and beaming. There's daisies tucked in his back pocket, like a reminder, that everything has been set from the moment we were born.

If there's one thing about Steve, he's a stubborn, determined kid.

Annalyn smirks, "Son of a bitch, Steve really is marrying the daisy boy."

→ Wayne's POV

[dark-and-kawaii]

your pregnancy ficlets are super sweet! How about Halsin finding out tav is pregnant 🥰

Halsin would/does make the best dad. When he was worried about the kids not getting a bedtime story from him I wanted to cry. I go feral for big ol’ guys with a soft heart, and he’s like the poster man for that.

༺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 ༻

♡ Halsin | Pregnancy - Fluff

In the midst of a small flower field, bathed in the golden rays of the sun, you sat in the forest. Halsin, in his bear form, approaches you silently, attempting to surprise you. But as always, you are keenly aware of his presence. Chuckling softly to yourself you continue plucking a pink flower, and with a playful tone you remark, "You'd have better luck sneaking up on me if you were a cat, you know."

Halsin nudges your back gently with his large furry head, emitting a low, affectionate grunt as he settles down beside you. Resting against his solid form, you're enveloped in a unique comfort only he can provide, afterall, it’s not everyday someone gets with a bear. Twirling the flower wreath you've been weaving, you muse, "I'm considering changing these to yellow blossoms, what do you think?" You glance at him, your look soft and affectionate as he cocks his head, ears perked, you know his bearish confusion was a silent compliment to your creation.

Your laughter is light as your fingers trace the fur between his eyes. "Yellow's quite the neutral choice," Halsin watches you, his gaze intent, absorbing every word you speak, “Hmm, or maybe I should do white instead, but that’s just- no. That’s a terrible idea.” He continues to listen, studying your expression intently, as if trying to decipher the message behind your words.

“If it's a boy," you continue, your eyes lingering on the wreath, "I don't think he'd appreciate all these shades of pink." Your gaze meets Halsin's, a playful glimmer in your eyes. "And if it's a girl, well, pink seems to be the only answer. But how am I supposed to know? I'm no seer." You raise an eyebrow, your eyes searching his face. Suddenly, his wide brown eyes illuminate, and in a burst of radiant energy, Halsin stands before you, transformed back into his glorious elven body. "Is it true? You spoke of the truth just now?" he asks, his voice filled with awe and excitement.

Joining him in standing, a smile spreads across your face, and you nod, uttering the words he longed to hear, "It's true, my love." Unable to contain his joy, Halsin bursts into laughter, engulfing you in his arms as he spins you around, expressing his elation in that moment of pure bliss.

Halsin's laughter fills the forest as he spins you around, his joy palpable in the warm embrace. "By the Great Oak Father!" he exclaims, his eyes shining with happiness. You both come to a stop, and Halsin cups your face in his hands, his expression overflowing with love. "Our love, our bond, will be forever sealed in this precious life."

The forest and flowers around you seemed to come alive with vibrant colors, the gentle breeze carrying the sweet scent of the blooms. It feels as if though nature is celebrating alongside you.

As the initial rush of excitement settles, Halsin lowers himself to one knee, holding your hand close to him. "My heart, I promise to be there for you and our child every step of the way. I will protect and cherish both of you with all that I am."

Tears of joy well up in your eyes as you meet his gaze. "And I promise to stand by your side, Halsin, as I always have.”

Halsin's grin widens as he rises from his knee, his eyes never leaving yours. "I have no doubt that we will raise a child who embodies both the strength of the wild and the wisdom of the druids. They will be surrounded by love, nature, and the embrace of the elements."

With hearts filled with excitement and anticipation, you and Halsin spend the rest of the day in the forest, basking in the joy of your upcoming journey as parents. As the sun sets, casting a mesmerizing glow across the landscape, you can't help but feel an incredible sense of gratitude for the life growing within you and the love that binds you both together.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Paint Me

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!inexperienced!American!reader

summary: You are unsure of Benedict's intention of marrying you and he assures you that he is as head over heels for you as can be and very looking forward to spending the rest of his life with you.

word count: 2.8k

This is the final part!

part one part two part three part four part five part six

March 30, 1817

“It’s the eve of your wedding, brother, “ Colin spoke as the three eldest Bridgerton brothers sat around a table in their favorite pub. “How are you feeling?”

“Drunk,” Benedict replied and the others laughed at his response, definitely thinking that it was funnier than it really was. But in truth, Benedict couldn’t have been more excited to be able to call you his wife. He was looking forward to spending the rest of his life with you more than he had ever looked forward to anything else in his life. He considered himself the luckiest man in the world to have you by his side.

“Just to clarify,” he slurred, turning towards his eldest brother. “I am marrying her because I want to, not just because of the baby.” Anthony was skeptical of his brother’s words, but he supposed that he had to believe him considering that drunk words were often sober thoughts.

“What baby?” Colin asked. “Is…is y/n with child?” He felt like he should have been aware of that fact sooner considering that was big news to keep from someone.

“Yes, Colin. Keep up,” Anthony smacked the back of his brother’s head and Colin rubbed the spot.

“Are you actually? Because you seemed pretty hesitant at first,” Anthony argued and Benedict supposed that he had a point. But he was a changed man now. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. The baby was just a bonus. A symbol of the love you shared.

“I can’t even believe that you would ask such a thing,” Benedict responded. “Of course I want to marry her. I…I love her.” He had never said the words before in regards to someone who wasn’t in his immediate family, but saying them when he was thinking about you just felt right.

“Since when?” Anthony hadn’t seen any interaction between you and Benedict that would have indicated that he was in love with you, but he supposed that not even Benedict would have lied about something like that.

“Since the moment I laid eyes on her at the first ball,” he said the words so dreamily that both Anthony and Colin swore that they were going to throw up right there. It was nice that their brother was finally tied down, but they just didn’t like when he got all mushy in front of them. That should have been reserved for you.

“So you’re really marrying her for love?” Anthony took a sip from the glass of beer that was in front of him. How many ways did he want him to say it? Was he not clear the first time?

“I am,” he nodded, his eyes still looking just as dreamy.

“Does she know that?” Anthony had been the one to convince his brother to do just that just because he had slept with you and now he was upset that he was actually doing it because he actually loved you? Why was he so hard to please?

“She does,” Benedict nodded. Well, he hoped you knew. He would have had to make sure, though. Surely you had to with the way he looked at you, right? It wasn’t exactly a secret and it wasn’t like he was hiding it from you. It almost felt like an unspoken thing between the two of you and now he felt like he really should have laid everything out on the table so you knew the truth.

“Does she really?” Anthony gave him a pointed look. He thought you deserved the best and was sure that his brother could give it to you now that he seemed devoted to you, but he was just making sure. He couldn’t stand seeing his brother break another woman’s heart. Especially not yours.

“She will by the end of the night,” Benedict replied and both Anthony and Colin gagged in response.

“You’re disgusting,” Colin gave his brother’s shoulder a shove. It wasn’t unlike Benedict to make a joke like that, but this time, he didn’t mean it in an inappropriate way. He really had every intention of telling you how he really felt about you.

“I meant that I’m going to tell her as soon as we’re done here.” He took the last sip of his beer and slammed the glass down on the table before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Well, it looks like we are,” Anthony eyed all of the empty glasses in front of them. “You should go tell her right now. Hopefully the alcohol will have worn off by the time you get there.” With that, all three men stood from the table and Benedict made a beeline for the door.

Walking to your house, he couldn’t help but think of you and how excited he had been to see you. He hadn’t been able to all day since you both had been busy with wedding duties. But now everyone he knew was asleep. Everyone but you, of course. He knew that you’d be up painting or working on a sketch.

Now he was beginning to think that you were under the impression that he was only going to marry you because of the baby and he hated that. He loved you. He loved you with everything that he was and couldn’t stand you not knowing exactly how he felt any longer.

You were as nervous as could be as you sat in your bed, working on a sketch. You couldn’t sleep since all you could think about was the wedding and how you were actually going to marry the man who you had been in love with for almost half the time you had been alive. As excited as you were, you couldn’t help but think about how unsure you were that he loved you in return. He hadn’t exactly said the words and with the proposal after revealing that you were pregnant, it almost seemed like he was marrying you just so the baby would have two parents.

You had heard so much about loveless marriages and how common they were, but you didn’t want that for yourself. You wanted someone who would be there for you through whatever you were going through and you wanted to be there for them in return. And as much as Benedict seemed to care for you, especially through your pregnancy, you weren’t entirely sure that he actually loved you. Maybe just hearing the words would have been reassuring and you could have put all of your doubt behind you.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Benedict was knocking on your window. You rushed to open it and you helped inside, the man collapsing to the floor as soon as he was in your room. The alcohol had mostly worn off since he hadn’t drunk as much as the others and now he was feeling the pain of his body hitting the floor.

“Benedict, what are you doing here?” You asked as you helped him to his feet and his hands stayed in yours as he looked at you with a dopey grin.

“I wanted to see my wife,” his hands moved to your back, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“I’m not your wife yet,” you countered and he wondered what had put you in a sour mood. “If you’re here for sex, you’ve come to the wrong place,” you grumbled, turning back to your bed and gathering your art supplies to put it on your desk.

“What’s gotten into you? What’s upsetting you, darling?” He asked as stood behind you, resting his hands on your waist, but you were quick to push his hands off you, turning around to face him. Benedict had never seen you so angry and now he was trying to figure out what he could to put a stop to it.

“Do you love me?” You asked and the words felt heavy in the room, changing the atmosphere completely. Benedict’s eyes widened at your question and he knew that the longer he sat in silence, the worse he was going to look.

“What would prompt you to ask such a thing?” He shook his head in disbelief. “Of course I love you, darling.”

“So you want to marry me because of that and it has nothing to do with this baby?” Your hands moved to your stomach and Benedict realized just how horrible he looked. Perhaps the engagement did seem a bit rushed and the timing of it seemed a bit suspicious.

“Absolutely nothing, my love. I love you with everything that I am and I am not opposed to telling all of Mayfair if you don’t believe me. Actually, I would tell everyone because they deserve to know how utterly and completely I am in love with you.”

“And I would do the same for you,” you reached up and cradled his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his briefly before pulling away. You then pulled him into a tight hug, your arms wrapping around his waist as you buried your face into his chest. He wrapped around your shoulders and he pressed a kiss to your hair before pulling back to look at you, cradling your face in his hands.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you more,” you replied.

“Impossible,” he laughed. “Because I love you most.”

“This isn’t a competition, Ben,” you told him.

“I know,” he nodded. “But if it was,” he’d whispered. “You’d win hands down.”

You took him by the hands and led him over to the bed. You laid down first and Benedict hovered over you. He pushed up your nightgown and you gave him a pointed look but he just smiled.

“I’m just saying hello to our child, darling,” he chuckled. “Is there anything wrong with that?” There wasn’t all. In fact, it warmed your heart that he was already looking forward to being a father, wanting to see your stomach even though it wasn’t obvious that there was a baby in there.

“I suppose not. But I feel like this is all a ploy just to see under my nightgown.” Sure, that would have been true a few months ago, but you had changed Benedict and for the better it seemed. He really had turned over a new leaf and you couldn’t believe that you had been the one who made him do it. You were the one who made him want to commit to one woman for the rest of his life.

“I cannot believe you would accuse me of something so naughty.” He pushed your nightgown all the way up and you noticed that all he was looking at was your stomach. He pressed a kiss to the spot right above your belly button then put your nightgown down before laying on your stomach gently, speaking to the baby, telling it everything and nothing until the two of you peacefully drifted off to sleep, dreaming of nothing but the life you were going to build together.

March 31, 1817

The sun seeped in through your window, stirring you from your sleep. You looked down at the arm snaked around your waist and turned around to come face to face with Benedict, a smile on his face.

“Good morning,” you greeted, pulling him closer, pressing your foreheads together.

“Good morning,” he replied, then pulled you into a kiss before rolling out of bed to put on his coat.

“Where are you going?” You whined and it took everything in him to not crawl back into bed, but he had a wedding to get to.

“In case you forgot, darling, we’re getting married today and my mother will have my head if I’m not home in the next few minutes.” He pressed another kiss to your lips then made his way to the window. “I will see you at the altar, my dear,” he winked before climbing out the window.

-

The church filled with your friends and family while your mother, Lilith, Kate, and Violet helped you get ready. Your mother seemed to actually be in a good mood as she fixed your dress. She beamed at you in the mirror and you smiled right back. For once, you, and her and Lilith actually seemed like a happy family.

Lilith smoothed out your veil while Violet and Kate touched up your makeup. They all gushed about how beautiful you looked and you could help but agree. Unlike how you thought you would have felt, you actually felt like a bride. And you were going to marry Benedict.

Your look was all finished and they all stepped away from you to get a good look at their work, admiring it with wide smiles. They had been showing you nothing but love on your special day and for that, you’d be eternally grateful.

“It’s time,” your mother said as she pulled you out of the room while the others headed to their seats.

You took a deep breath as your mother led you down the aisle and as soon as you made eye contact with Benedict, you could feel your own getting misty. You joined him at the altar and you joined hands as your mother took her seat. You turned Vivian and Lilith and you could see their joined hands as tears streaked their cheeks. They were just as happy as you were and you couldn’t have been more grateful that you all could put everything behind you.

You then turned back Benedict and the ceremony started. You weren’t listening, though. You were just too distracted by the beautiful man in front of you, not quite sure whether or not you were dreaming. You had to be though, right? You had thought about the exact scenario to fall asleep every single night and now it was really happening.

And it was for love. He loved you more than you could even comprehend. And you loved him in the exact same way. Maybe it was unconventional to fall in love someone, but Benedict didn’t care. All he cared about was spending the rest of his life with you.

“You may now kiss the bride,” was all you had tuned in enough to hear after you had repeated after the pastor. Benedict took no time to press his lips to yours in a chaste kiss before grabbing onto your hand and the two of you turned to face your audience.

Everyone stood and the two of you walked down the aisle for the first time as a married couple. Your whole life was going to change. You were no longer going to be living with your family but in a new house with your new husband and that sounded like nothing but blissful to you.

The two of you would raise your children there and teach them your art skills so you all could paint in the garden as a family. It really seemed to be that you were going to love happily ever after just like you had always dreamed.

December 14, 1817

“Doing so well darling,” Benedict cheered you on as he dabbed the sweat away with a towel. “Just a few more pushes,” he urged. You had been pushing for too long and just wanted to baby out of you already. It was probably the most pain you had ever endured and were considering stopping at just one so you’d never have to go through it again. Once seemed to be enough.

“Here comes the head,” the doctor told you and you squeezed both Benedict and your lady’s maid’s hands while you gave another big push. You did one more, this one the hardest and let out a sigh of relief as soon as you heard crying.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor passed your son off to you as soon as he was wrapped up into a blanket. You looked down at him as you held him against your chest and couldn’t believe that he was yours. That you were deemed qualified to take care of him after carrying him for nine months.

“A boy,” you repeated and Benedict leaned over to get a look, his face softening as soon as he caught sight of his baby boy.

“Do you have a name?” He asked and you did. You thought it was only right to name him after your father. You would have anyway, but now you felt the need to honor him and giving your son his name seemed like the best way to do that.

“August,” you replied and Benedict looked down at the boy, his smile growing even wider.

“Then August it is,” he nodded and you handed August to him so he could hold him for a while. You watched your husband walk around the room with your newborn son, wondering how you had gotten so blessed as to having them both in your life. What you had done to have gotten such luck when all you had been dealt your entire life was a shitty hand. Maybe now your life was finally turning around for the better. And you only had Benedict to thank for that.

[parkerslatte]

Incompatible | Part Two

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Archeron!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: none.

Summary: Y/N receives word from the Inner Circle that she is to spend a few months in the Autumn Court. Azriel helps her pack and brings her to the High Lord of Autumn.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two |

•••

Three days later, Y/N sat in the River House, peacefully enjoying her afternoon. The past three days had given Y/N a sense of peace. Her family and Inner Circle did not crowd her as much as they used to, mostly leaving Y/N alone to her own devices. The only member who graced her presence was Nyx and Y/N couldn’t be happier. The small child napped beside her as she flipped the page of her book, her mind only half paying attention to it. 

The past seventy two hours had been strange for Y/N, she would constantly find her mind drifting to a certain High Lord. His copper hair, his amber eyes, his impeccable clothing. Everything about him caught Y/N’s eye the moment he saw him. But most of all it was his personality. The way his demeanour changed the moment they were alone. The genuine care and concern he had for her made Y/N smile into her book. No matter how the Inner Circle said that Eris was only being kind for his own gain, Y/N knew that his affections were truthful, she felt it.

Three days. He said that in three days time he would find a way to get her out of the house but nothing had happened yet. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on Y/N’s part. She was only human and Eris was the High Lord of Autumn. Realistically she wouldn’t blame him if he were only playing into her fantasy. But there was still that small glimmer of hope– knowing– that he would show up. 

As Y/N turned the page of her book, the peaceful atmosphere in the room immediately disappeared as Rhys entered the room followed by everyone else. Nyx immediately woke up crying. Rhys and Feyre rushed to his side uttering soft apologies. 

“I can take him to his room,” Azriel offered. 

Rhys nodded and allowed Azriel to pick him up. His shadows swarmed around the small boy in a comforting manner. Azriel swiftly left the room before closing the door behind him. 

“What’s going on?” Y/N asked, eyes darting around the room. 

“A letter came through today from Eris,” Rhys said. 

Y/N perked up. “What did it say?”

“I cannot go into detail but it demands that you spend a few months in the Autumn Court,” Rhys explained.

“Really?” Y/N got to her feet, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. 

Feyre nodded. “But we came to ask if you really wanted to go.”

Y/N frowned. “Why?”

“While Beron was High Lord, the Autumn Court was not a safe space for most, everything the upper class fae did was for power. It has not been too long since Eris killed his father and took over so I do not know how much it has changed,” Rhys explained. 

“But ultimately it is your choice whether you wish to go,” Cassian piped up. 

Y/N frowned. “Why does it sound like you are all trying to scare me away from going?”

“We’re not doing that,” Rhys said. “We are just warning you about what you may encounter. Life was difficult for fae living in the Autumn Court, for a human, it may prove to be more dangerous.”

“I’m sure that if I were in any danger, Eris would help me,” Y/N said. “And even if he wasn’t there to help me, I am sure I would be able to help myself. Despite what most of you may think, I can handle myself. I did any and all jobs on my farm for six years until you all took me from it.”

No one responded.

“I am going to the Autumn Court,” Y/N said her tone was final. “When do I leave?”

“Azriel will take you after you have packed a bag,” Feyre said. 

Y/N nodded. “I will go and pack my things.”

Before anyone had the chance to respond, Y/N left the room. As soon as the door closed, chatter resumed in the room in hushed whispers. Y/N rolled her eyes before walking down the hall to her room. 

“So you decided to go,” Azriel said, appearing from the shadows. 

“Yes,” Y/N replied without looking at him. 

“And there’s nothing I can do to convince you not to go?” Azriel asked. 

“No,” Y/N said, opening the door to her room. 

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “I wasn’t going to convince you to stay.”

Y/N finally looked at him. “You might be the only one. Everyone was trying to scare me into not going.”

“I know that you are going to shoot me down immediately but just listen to what I am going to say,” Azriel said. 

Y/N sighed. “Go on.”

“They are just trying to protect you,” Azriel said and Y/N groaned. “I know that our methods have been stupid.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Y/N mumbled, sitting down on her bed. 

“But,” Azriel emphasised, “it was only done to make sure nothing happens to you. Everyone here loves you, Y/N. We just want what’s best for you and if that includes going to the Autumn Court, I will accept it.”

Y/N eyes him carefully. “What is up with you being accepting of this? The last time I checked you hated Eris.”

Azriel chuckled and sat down on the bed next to Y/N. “I don’t hate him. I don’t think I can after all of his explanations for any previous actions after he became High Lord. I only dislike him.”

“Aww,” Y/N teased. “You’re making new friends.”

Azriel glared at her. “He is not my friend but I…trust him more than I did a few years ago.”

“Why?” Y/N asked.

“Since becoming High Lord, Rhys made me send my spies to see how Eris was acting at High Lord. He wanted to know if he would simply double cross us after we helped him kill his father. It is not my place to tell you what I found out but the way he acted was different to how I ever saw him,” Azriel explained.

“How long were you spying on him for?” Y/N asked.

“Not long,” Azriel answered. “A few weeks at most but in those few weeks I noticed him dismissing many members of his court, all of which lived and enforced Beron’s rule. I only spied on him once more after that.”

“When was that?”

“Three days ago, after he left our meeting,” Azriel said. “He took a liking to you and I just wanted to know if it was genuine or not. Rhys didn’t ask me to do it so don’t mention it to him.”

Y/N felt her heart beat faster. “And was it genuine?”

Azriel offered her a tight smile. “It was genuine.”

A smile bloomed across Y/N’s face. “Really?”

Azriel nodded and looked away from Y/N to the bag sat by her bed. 

“Why did you want to know if it was genuine?” Y/N asked.

Azriel shrugged. “You’re my friend, if something was amiss with his affections, I didn’t want him to lead you on.”

Y/N smiled. “Thank you, Az. Honestly, since I’ve been here you have been the only one keeping me sane.”

Azriel smiled though it seemed forced. “No problem.”

Y/N looked away from Azriel and to her bag. “Will you help me pack? I think it would be more fun with a friend here.”

This time when Azriel smiled, it was genuine and he stood to his feet. “Of course.”

It didn’t take long until Y/N’s things were packed into her bag. She didn’t have too many things since her things were spread out across the places she spent time in. The last thing she packed was a small sketch Feyre did of her when the two were eighteen and thirteen. Y/N smiled at it before she closed her bag. 

“I’m ready to go now,” Y/N said, turning to Azriel. 

“Do you want to say goodbye to everyone?” Azriel asked. 

Y/N sighed. “I suppose I should. Shouldn’t I?”

“Even if you don’t want to say goodbye to Rhys, at least say goodbye to Feyre and Nesta,” Azriel suggested. 

Y/N sighed before agreeing. She picked up her bag and together she and Azriel walked through the house.

“I’ll miss you,” Azriel said. 

Y/N looked at him, surprised. “Wow, I’m surprised that the big bad shadowsinger can admit he will miss me.”

Azriel laughed. “Ease up on the alliteration.” 

Y/N chuckled along with him before Azriel cleared his throat. “I am being serious though. I will miss you. With everyone spending time with their own families recently, I’ve been spending a lot of my time with you and you have become a good friend, one of the best actually.”

Y/N stopped in her tracks and turned to Azriel. “Thank you, Az. That means a lot to me. These past few years have been a lot and you have helped keep me from throwing myself down ten thousand steps.”

Azriel smiled, looking away. “I can hear everyone in the foyer.”

Y/N gave his bicep a small squeeze before the two continued to walk. As they entered the foyer, all eyes fell upon Y/N. 

“You packed quickly,” Rhys said.

“Azriel helped,” Y/N answered. “I have just come to say goodbye.”

One by one, Y/N bid everyone a goodbye, spending more time with her sisters, before moving to stand next to Azriel. “I will see you all in a few months.”

Feyre smiled at her and gave her a small wave. “Make sure to write to us. Nyx will be confused about where you have gone.”

Y/N nodded and turned to Azriel. “Let’s go.”

Azriel held out his hand and Y/N took it. Shadows surrounded them and Y/N was encased in darkness. 

***

The moment the shadows vanished they revealed the beautiful scenery of the Autumn Court and Y/N couldn’t help but let out a gasp. The sun streamed through the trees and cast shadows upon the cobblestone path leading to a small village in the distance. 

“This is the Autumn Court?” Y/N asked Azriel.

“Yes,” Azriel answered. “I will admit it looks more…welcoming.”

“Of course it does,” a new voice spoke up. A voice that sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. 

Y/N turned to the source of the voice and smiled. Eris stood in the centre of the path. He was dressed a lot more casually since the last time she had seen him. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows, displaying his forearms to the world. He looked even more beautiful than he did when she had seen him three days ago. 

“I have taken up…replacing any negative voices in my court that want to still abide by my fathers rules,” Eris explained. “My court is no longer the place you remember, shadowsinger.”

Y/N dropped Azriel’s hand upon seeing Eris, missing the way Azriel’s face dropped. 

“Eris,” Y/N said, stepping forward. “I must say you look dashing.”

A smirk fell upon Eris’s face. “My dear, you are already starting with flirtations. I was not expecting this so quickly.”

Y/N smiled bright. “I’m full of surprises.”

Eris took one more step forward, his gaze never leaving Y/N’s for a moment. “I bet you are.”

Azriel cleared his throat, interrupting Y/N and Eris. Eris looked at Azriel, a hint of annoyance on his face. “I didn’t realise you were still here, shadowsinger.”

“I want to say goodbye to my friend before you whisk her away,” Azriel said, his voice holding none of the warmth she had gotten used to over the many months of his company.

Y/N turned to Azriel and smiled. “Believe it or not but I will miss you too, Azriel.”

Azriel’s smile was small as Y/N took a step towards him. She leaned up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I’ll be okay, Az.” 

Azriel circled his arms around her waist. “I know, I just want you to–”

“I swear if you say be safe,” Y/N warned.

“–have fun,” Azriel finished. 

Y/N pulled away from the hug. “That response was better than I thought.”

Azriel dipped his head. “I will see you soon, Y/N.”

Y/N took a step back from him, unconsciously stepping closer to Eris. “See you soon, Az.”

Eris smiled at Y/N before he turned his gaze to Azriel. “You are free to return to your court, shadowsinger.”

With a final parting goodbye, Azriel disappeared into his shadows and he was gone. 

The moment he was gone, Y/N immediately felt relief. A large weight lifted off her shoulders that she did not realise was there. For the first time in years, Y/N did not feel the prying eyes from the Inner Circle upon her. For the first time in years she felt free. 

“Are you okay?” Eris asked, the wind lightly blowing the copper waves out of place. 

Y/N smiled brightly at him. “I think I have never felt this good in a while.”

Eris smiled back at her and offered her his arm. “Well, let us drop your things off at the cottage and I shall show you around my court.”

Y/N linked her arm with his. “I would like that very much.” 

Eris picked up Y/N’s bag and carried it in his other hand. “It is about an hour walk away, if you wish me to winnow us there it is no problem.”

“No, I wish to walk,” Y/N said. “The beauty of this court is incredible.”

“Not as beautiful as the woman standing in front of me,” Eris said, a cheeky grin on his face. 

Y/N laughed. “Well, has the handsome man on my arm looked in a mirror? Because his beauty outshines everything around him.”

If it were even possible, a faint blush dusted across Eris’s cheeks. “You flatter me, Y/N.”

Y/N smiled. “It’s not flattery if it's true.”

Eris looked at her and smiled. “That’s true.”

Y/N laughed but that laugh slowly faded away. “I’m sorry for calling you a man. I know that is not what you are. A ‘male’ is the correct word, isn’t it?”

The smile faded from Eris’s face. “Y/N you can call me whatever you wish. I am a male, that is true but I am a man in your eyes, just as you call yourself a woman, not a female. You are not fae, I’m not going to force you to use the way the fae speak around me.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked. “After all, I am in the land of the fae, I don’t wish to be disrespectful.”

“Y/N, believe me when I tell you that you are in no way being disrespectful,” Eris replied.

Y/N smiled at him and they continued to walk down the cobblestone path. 

***

“I hope you don’t mind the dust on the surfaces,” Ers said as he unlocked the door to the cottage. “I changed the bedding and cleaned the best I could. Alas, duties kept me away from making this a perfect welcome for you.” 

“It is already perfect, Eris,” Y/N said, looking at the cottage before her. It was beyond beautiful with flowers growing up the trellis and falling over the doorway. 

The door unlocked and Eris picked Y/N’s bag back up and gestured her to step inside. As Y/N did, her eyes lit up. 

“It reminds me of the cottage on my farm,” Y/N said quietly. 

“We have similar decor taste’s then,” Eris said, closing the door. 

As Y/N looked at Eris and his relaxed form she found herself drifting closer to him. She wanted to touch him, she needed to feel his skin on hers. Despite these feelings, Y/N restrained herself and stepped further into the cottage. Everything was slightly dated and a little mismatched but it was perfect to Y/N. Her own cottage was the same way. 

“I used to come here to escape my father,” Eris said. “Everything in here consists of things I have collected over the many years I have been alive.”

“And how long is that?” Y/N questioned.

Eris placed his hand on his chest in mock offence. “Y/N, are you asking me my age?”

“Yes,” Y/N said. “Honestly I am a little confused by how the fae age. Are you immortal or do you just age very slowly?”

“Technically we are immortal and age slowly but the ageing process sometimes depends on the fae themselves. I have known others my age who look hundreds of years older, to put it in your case, decades older,” Eris explained. “I myself am five-hundred and thirty three.”

“You don’t look a day over five hundred and thirty two,” Y/N teased. “Since I so unkindly asked your age, I myself am twenty-eight, twenty-nine next month.”

“Well that is an excuse for a small celebration,” Eris said. 

“There is no need,” Y/N said. “I haven’t celebrated my birthday in many years.”

Eris hummed. “Well I suppose just this once, Y/N, that I will go against what you say because since you are in my cout, I will make sure you get the best damn celebration I can plan on such short notice.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “There isn’t a chance you will simply forget about it?”

That smirk that Y/N had begun to love was plastered on his face. “Not a chance.”

“Then make sure it is the best damn celebration you have to offer,” Y/N said. 

“I plan on just that,” Eris said.

Over the course of their conversation, Y/N had failed to realise how they had slowly inched closer together. If either she or Eris took only one step forward, their chests would be touching. She could feel the warmth radiating from him and she basked in it. If only he would wrap his arms around her body and pull her close–

Y/N stopped the thoughts swarming through her head. She had never felt this deeply for someone before and she didn’t understand why she was beginning to now. Y/N cleared her throat and took a reluctant step back. 

“If I am going to be here for a few months, I should start by unpacking my things,” Y/N said, picking up her bag. 

Eris seemed to snap out of a daze as he slowly followed Y/N’s movements with his eyes. “Do you wish for any help?”

“I’ll be okay,” Y/N said. “Though is there anything you don’t want me to move or touch? It is your cottage after all.”

“No, do whatever you wish. I am rarely here these days,” Eris said, looking at his beloved cottage. “Though I regret to say that I must return to the Forest House, I still have duties to attend to for the following days. I have left food in the cupboards for you, I will return with more tomorrow.”

“When will you be back?” Y/N questioned. “I only ask because I want to explore a little more and I doubt it is not safe for me to be wandering around without an escort.”

“There are a few things that need my attention for the following days but after that I am all yours for the next few months. All my paperwork will be split between my trusted court officials,” Eris explained. “There are wards surrounding the property up until the wicker fence, so you can go outside if you wish to. I won’t confine you inside for the next couple of days.”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you, Eris. Not just for allowing me my freedom, but for making sure I feel welcome and not like a caged animal.”

“There is no need to thank me,” Eris said. “I hope you enjoy it here.”

“I already am.”

Taglist:

@talesofadragon @impossibelle @the-sweet-psycho @lilah-asteria @acourtofbatboydreams

[thebubblesareevil]

Family grows, it evolves…

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

There was a new exhibit on Ancient Greece at the museum, and as the resident expert Diana was given free range of the exhibit. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, normally the League doesn’t find a clone of one of its founding members and spend a, frankly, ridiculous amount of time deciding how to proceed.

Diana sighed as she looked at the large room filled with artifacts needing to be catalogued before display. She lamented not having the same speed as the flash for but a moment before getting to work. It was 5:00, if she wanted to get any sleep tonight, she needed to get to work.

She steadily made her way through stacks of paperwork, working with the efficiency that was drilled into her since birth. It had been hours since she began her work, and though she tired, she resolved to head home to get changed for the next day. It wasn’t until she made her way from the basement that she realized something was off. Doris was sitting at reception, though she should have left at 8:00, the sun was still high in the sky, not yet ready to make its decent.

“Calling it an early night, Diana?” Doris asked “Big day tomorrow! Finally setting up the new exhibit. I can’t wait to take the kids, they’re so excited to see it.” She said with a wide smile. Diana surveyed the desk, catching a glance the clock. There in bold numbers and as 7:00pm, she smiled as she replied.

“I finished things up sooner than planned, so I thought I’d head out for the night. I need to get dinner started before my guest arrives.” Doris’ face nearly split in two.

“A guest, is he handsome, oh how could you hold out on me Diana!?” She said excitedly “I need all the details!” Diana laughed.

“Nothing like that, my Grandfather decided to pop in for a surprise visit. I haven’t seen him in quite some time, so it’s a lovely surprise.” Doris nodded along.

“You’re a good grandkid. I miss my grandparents everyday, you never know how much time you’ve got.” She said with a sigh. “Have a good night!”

“All the time in the world.” She said to herself, checking her watch and grinning. It read 4:30 am, she yawned as she left, making her way back to her apartment.

Everything thing was silent when she arrived, though that was to be expected at this point. She wade her way to the kitchen passing by the figure on the couch.

“Would you like some tea? Do you drink at all?” She inquired.

“I am perfectly capable, though I rarely indulge.” He replied in a monotone voice, if she had been anyone else she like would not have caught the edge of sadness clinging to his voice. Diana set the kettle on the stove and made her way over to the couch.

“Something troubles you, something big enough to approach me after all these years.” Clockwork smiled “You’re much sharper than your father ever was” the smile dropped.

“You are aware of the multiverse.” He said, Diana nodded. “As the Master of time, I bear witness to each world, each time line. There exists a world where humans built a bridge to the Infinite Realms, creating a being both born and killed by the infinite.” Diana gave him her upmost attention. “Sometime ago I was tasked with the elimination of this creature, this child, to prevent the tragedy he would bring upon that world.” He smiled “I was never one to listen to orders though, and instead I set the boy on a path that would bring about great change… it had unexpected side effects.”

“What kind of side effects?” Diana asked, worried.

“He began to cling to me, seeking me out for advice. I even found him asleep in my clock tower more than once. I have admittedly come to see him as my grandson.” Clockwork have a soft smile “He reminded me so much of you when we first met.” He sighed “I am here to ask a favor, young Danny is approaching a crossroads. There are two possible paths his timeline might take, one where he lives of the rest of his years moving between living in dead, his truth hidden from those who wish him harm. However there is another path, one I fear is becoming more and more likely than the last.” Diana had never seen her grandfather look so old, his entire form shifting to match his tone.

“What is it? What is going to happen?” Clockwork looked at her with sad, tired eyes.

“He will be betrayed, from this betrayal he will suffer such agony that the Realms themselves will retaliate. Then he will sleep eternal, bound to the infinite. His world destroyed.” Diana gasped. She placed a hand over his,

“What do you need me to do?” She asked firmly.

“Should the worst come about, I intend to steal him away from that world. Cutting off its connection to the realms permanently. However he is a being of both life and death, he cannot neglect his human half. What I ask of you is this, that you allow this boy to stay here, with you. There is no one else I would trust with such a task.” Diana hesitated.

She was a warrior, trained for battle from birth. She knew nothing of caring for a child. She thought her grandfather intended for her assist him in battle but this…. She looked at her grandfather, his sad eyes resigned, as though he expected her to refuse.

“Very well, on one condition.”

“Anything my dear.” She smiled.

“You must visit more, when last we met I told you I needed time. You gave me that, now I ask once more for time, time spent together.” She nearly jumped as his form shifted to that of a child.

“Nothing would please me more.”

“And grandfather? Should the worst not pass, I would still like to meet tho cousin of mine.” Clockwork froze, before he practically melted.

“Of course.” His form shifted once more to that of a young adult. Diana smiled pulling her grandfather into a hug.

“Thank you.” He whispered and he was gone. The kettle screamed. Diana got ready for a long nights rest.

—————————

A week passed before she heard anything from her grandfather. It was to the night before the opening of her new exhibit and she expected everything to go as planned. Just as she was picking out what she was going to wear to the gala, the sound of cars outside her window stopped.

“What do you think? Red or black?” She asked as she turned around holding the two dresses. Her grandfather stood tall, a stern look on his face. Diana set down the dresses. “It happened, didn’t it?” Clockwork nodded. Making his way towards the living room he stopped by the couch. There, asleep on her couch was a young teen, not much older than some of her teammates protégés. He had pitch black hair and pale skin, with lightning scars crawling up his neck. He chest did not move.

“He’s not breathing!” She turned to her grandfather, but he appeared unbothered. He smiled, watching the boy sleep.

“As I said before, he is a being of both life and death, sometime pieces of one form bleed into the other.” He turned to Diana, “He needs his rest, as for your first question, the blue dress will suit you much better on this occasion.” Diana gave him a soft smile.

“Come, I shall make us some tea while you tell me more about my cousin.” Clockwork nodded, taking a moment to readjust the blanket around the teen, before heading to the kitchen.

——————-

When Danny woke, to the sound of people talking he had a horrid migraine. He did his best to ignore the pain as he tried to remember where he was. The last thing he remembered was a dream of his parents yelling and the GIW knocking down their door. He slowly sat up, looking around the room, every wall was covered in pictures. Danny slowly stood and made his way over to the pictures. They all took place over varied times, ranging from, at the earliest, the 1920s all the way to the 2000s. All of the featured the same woman, she remained unchanged even as those around her grew old.

He listen to the voices, one familiar, one not, as he made his way towards the source of the noise. When he opened the door he was greeted by the familiar face of Clockwork. Next to him was the woman from the photos just as unchanged.

“Good afternoon Danny, did you rest well?” Danny did his best to disguise his flinch at the sound, grinning at the old ghost.

“Just fine thanks, what….what exactly happened? Where are we?” Confusion dripping from his voice.

Clockwork looked Danny in the eye, what he said next nearly broke him.

“I’m so sorry, Danny.”

Danny’s legs almost gave out under him. “It happened didn’t it? They tried to turn me in, to the GIW. That wasn’t a dream.” The ancient stayed silent, Danny's eyes went wide. "Is Jazz okay!? She... she was upstairs... if they hurt her!" Clockwork stopped him.

"Your sister is fine, they were only there for you." Danny took a deep breath, trying to process everything.

"So what comes next? Where are we?" Clockwork looked at him with a deep sadness.

"We are in a world separate from your own, connected by the Infinite Realms. I saw the possibility of what was to come and made arrangements. Due to the crimes of your world against you, the Observants and myself decided the best course of action would be to remove you from your world, and cut the living off from the Infinite Realms entirely." Danny looked down, resigned to knowledge of what they planned to do to him. "As you know, as a half-ghost you must tend to both sides of your being." Clockwork turned to the woman, "Danny, this is my granddaughter, Princess Diana of Themascyra. She has agreed to have you stay here, with her." Danny frowned.

"Your granddaughter? But she's...uhh" he paused, not sure how to continue. Diana laughed.

"Alive? Yes, I do believe I am. I'm assuming my grandfather has neglected to explain his past life" Danny nodded "How much do you know of the stories Ancient Greece?"

"More than most I think, there are a lot of constellations named after the myths. That and it's hard to visit Pandora and NOT get an hour lecture on Greece" Diana's eyes went wide.

"You know Lady Pandora? How wonderful, I grew up hearing stories of her bravery!” She smiled “That being said, that will make things a bit easier. My mother is Hippolyta, her desire to have a daughter was so great that she molded me from sand, Zeus, king of the gods, used his power to give me life.” Danny blinked once, then twice.

“So…you’re a Demi-god? I don’t understand how that makes you Clockworks granddaughter.” Diana smiled. “I mean, I know Clockwork probably used to be Chronos, Jazz and I had a whole debate about that, but what does that have to do with Zeus?” Diana smiled patiently.

“Danny, Chronos is the primordial god of time, yes?” Danny nodded “Okay, well he is also the primordial form of Kronos, the father of Zeus, my father.” Danny froze, looking over to Clockwork who merely nodded, as though Danny’s brain was currently trying to shut down. After a moment the dots finally seemed to click.

“YOU ATE YOUR KIDS?!?!”

Clockwork sighed, Diana laughed, Danny had a mental breakdown.

It took close to five minutes for Clockwork to fully explain as Diana grinned in the background drinking her tea. Once he calmed down, Clockwork finished continued expaining.

"As for your ghostly half, I will be providing plenty of ectoplasm for you to eat as well as bringing you to the Infinite realms each week until you learn to create portals of your own." Danny nodded.

"What about school? Or hell, anything really. I don't exist in this world, how exactly do I go about doing anything?" Clockwork smiled.

"I called on the power of the ghost writer for any legal documents and I personally filed them in the proper time period to ensure you have what you need. I have given those to Diana" she nodded "as well as giving her legal custody of you. As far as the law is concerned you are her recently orphaned cousin. Son of her estranged Uncle Haiden and Aunt Penelope, who tragically died a few days ago." Clockwork smiled, rising from his seat.

"I'm afraid I have over stayed my welcome, I think it's best I take my leave and allow the two of you time to acquaint yourselves better." Danny stopped Clockwork, giving him a hug he whispered.

"Thank you." Clockwork gently carded his fingers through his hair before stepping back.

"If either of you need anything, just ask." and he was gone. Suddenly there was an influx of noise coming from outside, just enough to tell them that the world outside was moving once more.

Danny stood awkwardly by the chair their grandfather was occupying.

"You know, I don't bite." Diana said, trying to break the ice.

"I do." Danny replied on reflex, before covering his mouth. He looked at Diana, she looked back before they both burst out in peals of laughter.

"This is so weird, what even is my life?" Diana wiped a tear from her eye.

"Well, considering one of my teammates dresses up as a bat and beats up criminals, while another talks to fish, I think it's safe to say neither of our lives can be considered normal." Danny broke out in another fit of laughter.

"No shit?" he asked. Diana lifted a single brow at the term.

"No shit."

"What kind of team are you on exactly? Extreme cosplaying? Underwater battle royale?" Diana smirked.

"How about we get you some food and I tell you all about it?"

Danny smiled "Sounds like a plan."

@a-salty-sal@impulsiveasshole@meira-3919@alcorbearson@cute6troll@samgirl98@skulld3mort-1fan@addie-lover-of-stories@amercurio@chronicallyonline-fandomwh0r3 @heirxofxtime @gin2212 @thegatorsgoose@wanderer-of-worlds@terzatheunderscorerima@bright-shade@satanicrutialspecialist@mur-ururu@birdie-24-05@ascetic-orange@cyber-geist@thatrandomsarahchick

[clockwork-ashes]

Shallow Waters

Summary: Lucien spends the day with Eris (short one-shot).

Note: Thank you to everyone who shared plot ideas! Huge thank you to @acourtofladydeath for sending a whole list about a month ago :) I am back in my Eris era <3

Eris had always loved the forest. 

The trees grew tall in Autumn, little sky to be seen. Leaves fell to the ground on crisp winds and everything was constantly in motion, a comfort, like a boat rocking on gentle waves. 

As a child, Eris would spend hours on his own, preferring solitude to the company of others. The woods has been his safe haven, a place he could exist where the weight of his title as the High Lord’s heir lost some of its significance. 

Whenever Eris needed a break from his father, he would go to his home in the eastern territories. The forest was older, the rivers lovelier. If he could have spent his whole life there, Eris would have done so. His whirling thoughts always fell silent, and he felt the most at peace.

“Did you see me, Eris?” His youngest brother called, his laughter ringing, shattering the quiet.

“Mhm,” Eris hummed, not looking up from his book. Using the forest floor as a table, he scribbled a note in the chapter's margins. “Nicely done, Lucien.”

A moment passed before Lucien spoke again. “You weren’t even looking,” he accused, frustration clear in his voice. 

Eris briefly looked up from the page he was reading, leaning more comfortably against the tree he was sitting under. Lucien had his boots thrown off along the riverbank. His pants were rolled up terribly as he stood knee deep in the water, the fabric soaked through. “I was,” Eris lied. In truth, he did not have the slightest clue of what Lucien had been trying to show him, but he decided it was best not to further hurt his feelings. 

For a child not yet a decade old, he certainly had an attitude, Eris thought. Lucien crossed his arms, brows raised in a way that suggested he doubted his eldest brother. Eris flashed him a small smile, hoping he would simply let it go. 

Lucien threw his hands up in the air, defeated and dramatic. “Can I go deeper?” He asked.

“Don’t drown,” Eris replied, turning his attention to the book still in his hands.  

Eris read more, taking in the information and jotting notes so he could remember his ideas for later. After going through a few more pages, he paused, his stillness predatory when he noticed it was unnervingly silent. 

Eris looked up to see that his brother was no longer in front of him.“Lucien?” He called out, waiting. When there was no response, he repeated himself, tossing his book carelessly to the ground as he stood. 

Eris quickly jogged to the river’s edge, looking downstream. The water shimmered in the light filtering in through the leaves, flowing lazily. His mother would kill him, Eris thought, her favourite son dead, and not even at the High Lord’s hands. And Eris would never be able to forgive himself, not if something had happened to little Lucien.

Panic choked Eris as he stepped into the river, trying to reassure himself with the knowledge that nothing dangerous lived within the shallow waters. 

“What are you doing?” Lucien said, appearing next to Eris in a burst of golden light. His eyes shone brightly, lovely and foreign to Autumn.  

A death sentence.

Eris fell to his knees, the water cold as he reached for Lucien, pulled him close. He had never particularly liked affection as a child, and he liked it even less as a grown male, but he could not help holding Lucien to him in relief.

Like Lucien had done countless times, he put his arms around his older brother’s neck. “What’s wrong?” He asked, genuinely caring, able to read the emotions of those around him easily.

“Nothing,” Eris replied, large hand cupping the back of Lucien’s head. 

“Did you see me this time?” Lucien said innocently, unaware of the genuine worry he had caused, pulling away to look up at Eris with wide eyes. 

He nodded, “Yes.” Lucien smiled, dimples showing. “Yes, I saw, I’m very impressed.” 

Lucien shrugged, pretending it was nothing, but Eris saw through the act. There was pride in the way he held back his small shoulders, confidence at the rare words of approval. “All of you can winnow.” 

Eris knew he was referring to their brothers, but he also knew that they happened to be children of a High Lord. Whoever Lucien’s father might be, he was clearly a powerful male, Eris thought. “Lucien, you must keep it a secret,” he warned, voice serious. “Show no one else, you understand?” 

Lucien looked confused, frowning as he searched Eris’s face for any signs of deception. He looked ready to argue, a stubborn tilt to his mouth. 

“I mean it, Lucien, just for a little while,” Eris tried to have some empathy leak into his tone. 

Lucien must have seen something in Eris’s gaze that convinced him not to say anything more on the subject. “Alright,” he promised, russet eyes glowing gold as he hugged his older brother again, resting his chin on Eris’ shoulder. 

The river’s shallow waters continued to flow around them, and Eris held Lucien tightly.

[daisynik7]

“S&M” by Rihanna for Toji Fushiguro - smut

S&M

I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.0k

cw: smut - PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, mild S&M practices - whips, blindfold, handcuffs, protected sex (for once lol), use of safe word, rough sex, pet names (cutie, sweetheart)

Summary: You are next-door neighbors with a man named Toji Fushiguro. You don’t know much about him, except for the fact that he’s a divorced father who spends every other weekend with his young son, Megumi. On the weeks he doesn’t have him, you notice the same trio of women visiting his house. One night, his package gets incorrectly delivered to your door. Too curious, you walk over to return it, only to find the front door unlocked and a naughty secret to discover.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request anon! I love Rihanna, so it’s no surprise that she’s on the y2k karaoke party playlist! I personally am not well-versed with S&M practices, so this was an experience to write, definitely a little bit out of my comfort zone, but I hope it’s still okay! This is more on the milder side, I'm sure. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks for reading! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

You’re not usually this nosey when it comes to your neighbors, but something about Toji Fushiguro draws you in. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a divorced dad who takes good care of his adorable son, Megumi. Or maybe it’s the mysterious trio of women who frequently visits his house on the weeks he doesn’t have his child. Or maybe it’s his obvious good looks and impressive physique that you can’t help but notice every time he steps foot outside. Whatever it is, whether it’s a combination of all of the above, you just can’t get Toji Fushiguro off your mind. 

On this particular Friday night, you’re staying in, binging a TV show with a glass of white wine in your hands and a frozen pizza that you just baked in the oven. There’s a knock on your front door, which surprises you because you aren’t expecting anybody at this hour. You give it a few moments, seeing if there’s another knock. When none comes, you get up to scope it out, finding a large package directly in front of you and a delivery truck driving off in the distance. You check the shipping label, reading Toji’s name on it instead of yours. You glance at his front yard, spotting his car parked in the driveway and no one else’s. His girlfriends must have already left; you noticed their vehicle earlier beside his. 

Not bothering to change into anything presentable, currently wearing your sweats and fuzzy slippers, you carry the wrongly delivered package to its rightful owner, hoping if you can find some truth behind your neighbor’s unique bi-weekly ritual. You’ve thought about it before, the most likely answer being a polyamorous relationship or group sex. Still, it’ll put your mind to rest to know exactly what he does in there when little Megumi is away and Toji is free to play. So, you carefully lift the box, which isn’t heavy, over to his front door, setting it down to ring the bell. You push the button, then notice that the door is already open, slightly ajar. Another ring, and no one comes, though you’re certain you hear movement inside. 

You should turn around. Go back home, sink into your couch, continue the night as normal. Yet, your feet guide you in, closing the door shut behind you, tip-toeing farther into the house, waiting to catch Toji in the act, whatever that could be. Eventually, you make it to the living room, where you stand in the doorframe, searching for your neighbor, who you find sitting on the couch with his shirt off, scrolling through his phone. 

You knock on the wall, announcing your presence. He looks up, confused, inspecting you carefully before saying your name. “What are you doing in here?” He’s way more cavalier than you imagined he’d be, which you’re thankful for. 

You present the box to him, a nervous grin on your face as you explain, “This just got delivered to my house on accident. I rang the bell, but no one answered. And your front door was open, so I figured I’d just come inside to give it to you.” It’s a poor excuse; you really shouldn’t have barged in without permission. 

He seems to buy it though, rolling his eyes, muttering, “Damn Kimi. She’s always doing that.” He approaches you, grabbing the box from your hands. “Thank you for getting this to me. Been waiting for it all night, so I was bummed it didn’t come in on time.” He sets it down on the floor, kneeling beside it, ready to unwrap. 

You search the room, trying to find any clues of what they could be doing inside here. It looks normal, nothing nefarious standing out. Slightly disappointed, you take this as your cue to leave, turning on your heel to make your way back home. Before you can, Toji calls out your name and asks, “Don’t you want to see the little present I got? After all, it was almost yours. Would have loved to see your reaction if you opened it by accident.” His tone is playful, yet there’s something wicked behind his words. Something naughty.

You swallow hard, mouth already salivating. This isn’t how you planned your night to go, but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it before. You face him again, stepping towards the box slowly, sitting on the other side. He uses a pocketknife to slice through the tape, eyes lighting up as he reaches inside, holding up his delivered item like a treasure. It’s a riding whip, soft leather on one end, handle on the other. He smirks at you, slapping it against his palm, making a loud crack sound. You jump up, startled by the noise. He barks a laugh at your reaction, laying the whip down on the coffee table next to him. He reaches in again, pulling out three sets of fuzzy handcuffs, twirling one around his fingers. “Damn, would have been fun to use these tonight.” Glancing over at you, legs squeezed tightly together, arousal seeping through your panties, he scans you up and down, giving you a wicked smile. “You want to try these out, neighbor? I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”

It's ridiculous, right? Completely silly and irresponsible for you to agree to this, right? You blurt out your answer before you can even contemplate those questions logically. “Yes.”

He chuckles, biting him lip, eyes focused on your loins currently throbbing against the fabric of your sweats. You really wish you dressed up now, but it doesn’t matter, as he commands you to, “Strip.”

Almost too eagerly, you obey, kicking your slippers off and undressing, starting with your shirt, which you toss behind your shoulder. He studies you carefully, eyes following your every move as you slip out of your pants, down to only your underwear and bra now. He licks his lips, stepping closer to you. “Yeah,” he purrs, breath hot on your skin. “This will definitely work.”

~~~

Within minutes, you find yourself naked in his bedroom, blindfolded, wrists handcuffed behind you, face buried into the pillow, and ass up, perfectly vulnerable for him to do as he pleases. The two of you establish a safe word: mignon, because he thinks you’re cute, and the filet mignon is his favorite cut of meat. He suggests several acts he wants to perform on you and lets you decide which ones you want to go through with. You make your choice, asking to be spanked with the new whip he received. Something about breaking in one of his new accessories turns you on. 

Not being able to see anything, you listen carefully to what he’s doing behind you. You hear him unwrap the condom wrapper, sliding the latex over his cock. Then, there’s a squelch, most likely the lube he’s pouring into his hand, coating his shaft with it. “Are you ready, cutie? I’m going to start with the whip first, okay?” You nod, heart pounding in your chest, nervous and thrilled all at once.

“Words, sweetheart. Use your words. I have to hear you say it.”

You swallow your spit, trying to speak coherently. “Yes. I’m ready.”

“Good. That’s a good girl.” You feel the cool leather against your skin, anticipating it as he counts down. “Three, two, one.” Then, smack. It’s quick, painful for only a few seconds. You can tell he’s holding back, cautious of you. “Did you like that?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you say, wiggling your ass to him. “Give it to me harder.”

He chuckles, swearing under his breath. “Fuck, okay. I’ll go harder then.” He counts down once more, the slap definitely more intense this time. Your skin stings from the contact and it feels like you’re already gushing from your cunt, core tight with pleasure. 

He continues this until he’s delivered ten smacks to each of your ass cheeks. Your body is sweltering now, the skin on your ass surely hotter than the rest of you. Your pussy flutters, aching to be filled, clit throbbing, desperate to be licked. “Toji,” you whimper, drooling from the sides of your mouth. “Fuck me.”

There’s that laugh again, low, taunting, so fucking sexy. “Not yet. Want to make you come before I fuck this pretty cunt.” He positions himself beneath you, between your legs. “Fuck my face. You can be rough with me. I can take it.”

His grip is firm on your hips, guiding you as you ride him, spreading yourself over his wide tongue and gaping mouth. He’s eats you better than any guy you’ve ever fucked before, sloppy and wet, as if he thoroughly enjoys slurping at your juices. He slides his hands over your ass, massaging the skin made raw from his spanking. And before you get a chance to warn him, you come all over his face, gushing into his mouth. 

“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, lapping up your slick. “So fucking good for me.”

Desperate now to be filled, you beg, “Please, Toji. Fuck me. Need you inside me.”

He slides out from beneath you, positioning himself behind you with his cock pressed between your ass cheeks. “I need it too, cutie. Need to pump my fat cock inside this perfect pussy.” He moans loudly as he slides himself inside you, stretching you out, inch by inch, until you swallow him whole. He thrusts into you, slowly at first while you adjust to his length. Gradually, he picks up the pace, pounding you hard and fast, his grip on your wrists, still bound by the handcuffs. The stretch in your shoulders is starting to burn now, arms pinned way back as he uses it for leverage. It’s not enough to coax the safe word out of you, yet. You need more of him to satiate this overwhelming desire.

“You’re taking it like such a good girl,” he moans, pumping himself into you. “Did you ever think about this before? Think about me?”

“Fuck yes. All the time,” you admit, drooling onto the pillowcase. 

“Shit, I knew it. I knew I should have slutted you out sooner,” he growls, bullying his way deeper. It’s almost too much. Almost. A couple more strokes and it actually is, your shoulders sore, nervous they’ll pop out of its sockets. You’ve had your fill of him, your guts feeling like they’ve been rearranged by his massive cock. You’re tempted to stay quiet, not wanting this to end just yet. But your body is begging you for a break. 

“Mignon,” you croak out, throat dry from the incessant moaning.

“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling out, immediately unlocking the handcuffs on your wrists and untying the blindfold. “You were taking that so good.” He flips you over on your back, inspecting you. For the first time since you started, you make eye contact with him, your heart swelling from the genuine smile on his face, gazing at you fondly. “Are you okay, cutie?” He brushes the tears from your eyes, cupping your cheek in his calloused palm.

You nod, mumbling an exhausted, “Yes,” closing your eyes to lean into his touch. 

He cuddles you, kissing your neck as he continues to stroke himself off. He trails down your chest, latching his lips around your nipple, sucking until he comes inside the condom. When he’s done, he removes it, tying the open end closed and tossing it into the waste basket next to him bed. 

It’s silent for a few moments as the two of you relax in each other’s arms. Eventually, he clears his throat to say, “This was fun. I usually don’t do this outside of the group.”

You understand that he’s referring to the trio of women who you saw earlier, and finally, the mystery is solved. Slightly disappointed, you respond, “I’m sorry if I messed anything up.”

He smiles at you. “You didn’t.”

You snuggle closer, kissing him softly. His lips melt into yours, tongue slipping inside your mouth. When you break apart, you ask, “Then, should I only show up when they show up?”

He shakes his head, smirking. “No. I think I want you as my own special plaything from now on.”

[devildomwriter]

“Honestly, take it down a notch. You’re not a child…”

“Hahaha, you think I sound like a child, huh? Lucifer actually says that a lot too, you know? The truth is, I am a child in a way. A child who spends his time alone, and never gets to do anything interesting.”

“…”

“…Is something wrong?”

“…it’s just…I’m a little surprised. I never knew you thought of yourself like that.”

— Belphegor and Diavolo (Chapter 56-7)

[aayakashii]

omg THANK YOU FOR THE FOOD AYA ❤️18 or 32 with haku pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻

❤️18 A kiss while laughing

❤️32 A kiss while someone watches

Ritsu was following you, for the 4th day straight. It was a new record. Usually he would follow you around for two days and disappear for a while, probably to creep someone else out.

You had no idea what was so interesting about you that had the paralegal so hooked on noting down your every step. Maybe he thought he could get good information about your curse if he followed you around?

You didn't see the reasoning behind his actions. It's not like stalking you gathered actual scientific information about your plight – maybe if it was Yuri or Jiro, you could make some excuses and say they were observing you like a little lab rat.

But all that Ritsu managed to do was annoy you to no end.

So you sighed heavily, scratching your head in frustration, while the Haku glanced at you with a genuinely sympathetic look on his face as you two walked towards your dorm.

“How long has he been doing that?” he murmured, subtly glancing behind his shoulder and towards Ritsu, who stood some meters away from you both, overtly following your steps.

“I don't know” you rubbed your face with your hands “I think for like… 2 months? Ever since we met at Sinostra.”

Haku widened his eyes.

“2 months? Why? Is he in love with you?”

You scoffed. Haku had a penchant for making everything into a shitty romcom plot. If you didn't know Towa and him already talked to each other sometimes, you'd probably introduce them so they could bond over their obsession with romance.

“No, he just wants to record my every movement” you said, knowing all too well that Ritsu probably heard you and wasn't ashamed in the slightest “Apparently he thinks it'll help his investigations somehow…?” you trailed off, not buying his excuse at all.

Maybe he was just a creep who liked stalking people and you were his favorite target. Who knows, at this point.

Haku hummed thoughtfully.

“Sounds to me like he's in love with you and doesn't know how to express it.”

You deadpanned.

“Haku, no. He's not.”

“How can you be so sure?” he side-eyed you, with a playful smirk tugging on his lips, and you shook your head.

“He's not.”

“Hey, he wouldn't be the only one, you know?” he winked, and you thought for a moment that he had been spending too much time with Rui for his own good.

You playfully pushed his arm and he chuckled, barely moving at all. Sometimes you forgot ghouls had superhuman strength.

After a few moments of silence as you two leisurely walked, he suddenly leaned towards you, a glint in his eyes as he covered his mouth, just like a child excited to share a secret.

“You know what we can do to embarrass him so he'll stop following you?”

“What?” you asked, fully intent on playing into his game.

“Kiss.” he replied with a smug and satisfied smile, his eyes quickly darting from your eyes to your lips, making his already clear intention even clearer.

You snorted.

“Is this just an elaborate plan to kiss me?”

Haku gasped dramatically and closed his eyes, putting a hand over his chest.

“You wound me, honor student. I am just looking out for you and I have your best interest in mind.”

“Pfft! Yeah… Totally no hidden intentions at all.” you rolled your eyes.

“None at all” Haku's eyes were locked into your lips.

You stared at him.

Truth to be told, you've harbored a crush on the man beside you for a very long time. You just weren't very sure if every word he told you was truthful, or if he just flirted with the first person that gave him attention.

The thought of him openly flirting with someone the way he did with you would always cause a pang in your heart, and this only worsened once Zenji raved about how Haku was a charmer.

Part of you wanted to be special, different. You wanted to be the only one in his mind, the only one to listen to all those honeyed words. You wanted to know he had truly fallen for you before you could ever allow yourself to give in to your repressed feelings.

Another part of you just wanted to say fuck it and accept the attention he was offering without thinking too hard about it.

You decided to listen to this other part of you.

“Okay.”

Haku snapped his head towards you, eyes comically wide.

“‘Okay’?!” he asked again.

It was your turn to smirk.

“What, didn't think things through before asking to kiss me?” you raised your eyebrows at him.

The surprise weaned off quite quickly and he leaned towards you, his voice getting huskier all of a sudden.

“Not at all. I've been thinking about kissing you for long enough now.”

You felt your cheeks tingle. Haku was insufferable. You wanted to give in to him so bad and just let your feelings run wild, but the fear that it all could consume you quicker than your curse still bound you in fear.

“Then do it for once, you tease.” you huffed, cheeks puffing and brows scrunching as you tried to appear annoyed.

Haku just chuckled.

“Aye aye, captain” he murmured, holding your chin so he could tilt your head upwards.

His lips gently brushed yours before he dived into the kiss, and you could feel his smile as he nibbled and sucked on your bottom lip – it was contagious. You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your hands through his green hair.

The feeling of your fingers threading through his locks made him sigh and his hands circled your waist and pushed you flush against his body. Haku hummed into the kiss, delighted, hands drawing nonsensical patterns on your back as he tried to have you as close to him as possible.

Soon enough, however, you broke contact, gasping for air. Haku grunted, dissatisfied, still pursuing your lips.

“W-wait, wait.” you managed to mutter, putting your hand over his lips. Haku opened his eyes and grinned devilishly as soon as he saw your figure – face flushed, breathless, and disheveled.

“I could get used to this.” he muttered, nuzzling his nose against your cheek, still firmly holding you in his arms.

In your daze, you looked around, searching for nothing at all as you breathed deeply and tried to calm your racing heart, when you locked eyes with a figure hiding behind a tree.

Ritsu was red as a beet while he watched you, disgust and embarrassment quite clear on his face.

“I don't think he left just because we embarrassed him.” you said, licking your lips, blatantly staring at Ritsu's comically aghast expression.

“Who? Oh.” Haku said, briefly forgetting what even started the whole situation.

He smirked, side-eyeing Ritsu for a second before turning your attention back to himself. He held your chin upwards and caressed your bottom lip with his thumb before bringing his face closer to yours once again.

“Then I think we might need to kiss again and again until he gets the memo.”

Full masterlist

[siyuuzii]

ENHA REACTION TO A FANBOY !

PAIRING maknae line! enha x mr

( hyung line ver, maknae line ver )

GENRE idol x fan, fluff

WARNING|S none

A. NOTE all writings and reactions from these idols are from MY imagination, it does not reflect their actions and reactions irl!

more under the cut !

⋆｡ ˚ sunoo

okay u cannot guarantee me that when u finally sat down at the chair in front of him, he'll not be acting n treating u like ur his gossip buddy. i mean who could blame him?? after rows n rows n ROWS of lovesick fangirls, there's finally a male that is in his presence! will spend like half of ur time getting to know you both, n quarter of the time signing ur albums n rare photocards n the remaining time gossiping about the other members to u. well not like the usual gossip that would reveal there actual hobbies n stuff, just on camera n the episodes stuff.

when it comes to the signing parts, he'll be so careful and neither do you n him know why!?!? (probably wouldn't want to cover his gorgeous face on that rare photocard of urs!!) also itll be so unique n neat omgg, hes not rushing like before when u noticed his hands where moving so fast during signing the girls albums n when u looked at it, it was literally like a child's hand writing ...

now when the staff told both of u its been already 2 mins past time, and that u needed to go cause there's other people (well now all girls) waiting in queue, he'll be all pouty and would probably reach out at ur hands to hold it as a goodbye, he'll be kinda sad??? but not that much, since he knows that you'll be there on his next fan sign, i mean youve always been there! on every concert, on every fancall. don't think he'll notice you hm? especially with some boy he considers a cutie.

⋆｡ ˚ wang jungwon

he'll smile at you, no not the usual smile he gives to everyone but that big n cute smile of his that's showing his smile dimple ahh!!! he'd think that ur so adorable!! especially with you clutching your album like ur life depended on it while smiling brightly while introducing urself to him.

would ask tons of questions to you like whos ur bias n why, will be so happy and flustered that you can't even see his eyes because hes smiling so much, when you tell him that hes ur bias then going on to explain why. now when signing ur album he'll leave little messages and stuff like 'from your bias jungwon' will write it in korean if you tell you know korean.

hes so touched by your enthusiasm by talking to him and showing him ur drawings of him and the other members, literally showing ur efforts just to give him something! and when ur talking hed be listening so intently, nodding along and sharing stories about behind-the-scenes moments from the episodes youd watch.

after you got up to leave since the staff said so, he couldn't shake off your guys encounter!! he was so touched from your compliments and support to him that it was too much to just forget off. oh, how he was looking forward to seeing you again...

⋆｡ ˚ ni-ki

hes smirking when he saw you, dont know, dont care if that makes a scandal, but hes smirking! the flirtatious way, probably be thinking, 'looks like i can attract more than just the opposite gender'. hes not the one to be first to give out compliments, but with you? he cant help it! his tongue is just slipping out truths coming straight from the heart.

hes going to question u like jungwon, 'who is ur bias?' but if it's not him he'll be so pouty, for example when you answered heeseung, he'll be like why? and when u say hes handsome he'll be pointing to himself and say what about me? am i more handsome then him? like boy, know ur limits, jk jk.

he'll be so impressed by ur pencil drawing of him, and seeing the effort on your handmade gifts makes his heart flutter, and his cheek a hue pink! maybe you'll be the one that inspires him to draw!!!

but boy hes a BIG tease when you're talking to him and suddenly stutter because ur flustered on the way hes looking at you with such interest!! like i said he can help it!! and when its time for you to leave, he'll give you a flying kiss BUT like when he touch his lips with his hand he'll quickly get the flying kiss to ur lips!!! while saying that he'll be looking forward on seeing u again enjoying the way your covering ur lips with your hands with a shock face not believing that his hand just touched your lips!!

[milla984]

It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween

Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader

Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)

TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)

Word Count: 5.4k

This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved

“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”

You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”

She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 

“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”

You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.

“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 

Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”

“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.

The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.

“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”

Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.

“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”

Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”

This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.

“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”

“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”

Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.

“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”

You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”

Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 

You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 

Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.

Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.

“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.

You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.

“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.

A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 

His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”

“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.

Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.

“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”

“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”

The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.

“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”

He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.

You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”

Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 

He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.

“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”

“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”

“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.

His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”

“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 

“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”

“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”

He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”

“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”

Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”

“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 

Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.

Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.

“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 

Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 

You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.

You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.

Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 

He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.

He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.

You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”

“Y– yes…” he muttered.

His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 

For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.

You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 

You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—

“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”

You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”

The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 

“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.

You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”

Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 

You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.

You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.

You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.

When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.

“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.

“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”

You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”

“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.

You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.

You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.

He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 

Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.

You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.

The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.

“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”

Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”

“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.

You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”

He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 

You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 

You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?

Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 

You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.

“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.

He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”

His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.

“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.

Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 

“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”

Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.

You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”

“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”

In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.

“Spencer…”

“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 

“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”

Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”

He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.

If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”

“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”

You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”

The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.

You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”

“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.

He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 

You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”

He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.

“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.

You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.

He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”

“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 

“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 

His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”

You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.

“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.

You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.

You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”

Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.

He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.

“How do I feel? Spence...?”

Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  

“You like it?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 

All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 

Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.

He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.

“Spence, I need more…” 

He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.

When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.

“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”

He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”

“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.

He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.

You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 

He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 

Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.

“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 

He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 

“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”

He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”

“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”

“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”

“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”

He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”

This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.

“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”

“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."

NB: I'm not using my regular taglist for Spencer Reid smut fics but I'm obviously tagging only the users who sent a request. If you wish to be added you can send me an ask or leave a comment below with the request to be added.

[teecupangel]

I'm almost sorry to add another story idea to your backlog pile, BUT:

Elijah finds out what his dad went through, manages to break into a parallel universe, time travels to the 3 eras of the main ancestors, and tries to change things enough to save Desmond. Altair, Ezio, and Ratonhnhake:ton ask this tiny, angry, sarcastic, cactus of a child why he's doing what he's doing, and he eventually explains it over time.

Desmond, on the other hand, is watching all of this through the animus: a son he didn't know existed was trying to save him. An infant who he had never met, and who had never met him, was fighting time and reality itself to save him from a fate that still hasn't been explained, was showing more care and love and compassion for him than anyone Desmond had ever known before. And it hurts, because Desmond just grows to love him more and more, but thinks he'll never truly meet him outside of a Bleed.

Elijah never seems to age, even though he spends like forty years picking on Ezio. There's a statue of him in the Monterrigioni sanctuary, and he hates it with a passion.

Just... Elijah trying to fuck up time enough to save his dad, and Desmond watching all of it both touched and heartbroken, because if he's going through all of this anyways, it was all for nothing.

Then Elijah comes out of nowhere in the Grand Temple and sucker punches Juno with a data virus he had hardcoded into their lineage's DNA over nine centuries lmao

Please never be sorry for sending me an ask. Pile as much as you want as long as you guys understand that it would take a while for me to answer them (a month or so at this point XD)

Okay, but can you just imagine if Elijah was just a teenager in this one? That would give more of a sucker punch vibe to Desmond once he learns who Elijah is.

He has the ability to time travel but he can’t control where he gets sent. His goal had been to save Desmond Miles but he made the mistake of tying his time to Desmond Miles and not to someone more stable like Rebecca Crane or Shaun Hastings.

Hell, William Miles would be a better choice.

Because…

Desmond Miles’ ‘time’ is connected to the memories he watch in the Animus, making Elijah slip in and out of certain ‘times’, following the memories Desmond watches.

Desmond assumed Elijah was one of the informants in Altaïr’s memories. It’s only when Altaïr began to see him as an annoying child who always got in the way of Altaïr’s missions that Elijah told the truth.

Why?

Because Elijah has nothing to lose from telling Altaïr the truth. He was a prisoner of time itself, being yanked time and time again. He has a theory that he was being yanked to the time in Altaïr’s life where Desmond was watching him so he figured he could give Desmond information as well using Altaïr.

It would be funny, after all.

The Isus have chosen Ezio Auditore to be their prophet.

Why couldn’t Elijah make Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad his prophet then?

And he’ll take Ezio Auditore from the Isus as well.

Maybe it was Aita’s selfishness and desire for power.

Maybe it was his very own selfish desire to have something that was truly his.

“Shall we make a deal, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad?”

“A deal?” Those golden eyes seemed to pierce his very soul.

But it didn’t matter what he saw.

He cannot begin to fathom the truth.

Not yet, anyway.

Right now, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was a man lost in a vicious snowstorm threatening to swallow him whole and pull him to his frozen grave.

He still haven’t found the warmth he was meant to have, given to him by the Calculations.

“My name is Elijah.” He said, “I am a child of Time itself.”

“What nonsen-”

“I will correctly tell you what will happen when you confront Garnier de Naplouse.” Elijah stated, making Altaïr stop from walking away from him. Altaïr turned just enough to stare at him with one of his golden eyes as Elijah continued, “And I will tell you the future you are meant to have.”

“And what do you want in exchange?”

“From you? Nothing.” Elijah admitted, “All I want is a bit of your time.”

“My time?”

“To talk to Desmond Miles.”

Altaïr frowned as he said, “I do not know anyone by that name.”

“I know.” Elijah answered with a nod, “But he’s watching you. The Templars are forcing him to watch you right now and it is because he is forced to watch you that he comes to care for you so…”

“I will help you save yourself, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.” Elijah said, “To change your fate to whatever you desire, instead of what has been laid out in front of you. In exchange…”

“All I ask is you listen to me so I can take to my father.” Elijah’s lips curved into a small smirk that felt more Aita than him, “And to commemorate my first message to my father, I believe I should tell him an important truth.”

“Lucy Stillman is a Templar who betrayed the Assassins.”

(I feel like in this case, Elijah would provide more information and let Altaïr do what he wants. He only starts to actually have a more active roll once the memory seals from ACR starts and he grows close to Altaïr’s children. By the time he gets to Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton, he’s more ‘fuck the backseat, I’m driving’ and actively helps. This ends up with Elijah finally ‘returning’ to Desmond Miles’ time just as Minerva and Juno told him what will happen if he lets the world burn and, by that point, Elijah had already completed a device that would force Juno’s consciousness to operate the device in Desmond’s stead).

[queenie-official]

Chapter Three: ‘First Impressions’ Bridgerton au!Anakin

part 1, part 2

a/n: so the outfits that Obi-Wan and Ani are wearing are the ones in the photos ☝️🤭but guys tell me how i had more of chapter four planned out then i did this chapter 🤨 like i fr already had dialogue for chapter four before i even started this one 😀 anyway i hope you guys like this 🥰

Once more you find yourself pacing around in an endless circle. Today was the day you were to meet him. The wedding was already set to happen in a week. however invitations wouldn’t be handed out for another two days, the council told you it would be wise to get to know your future husband a bit first- but honestly how much could you really learn about a person in such a short amount of time. it’s not like you had a week to get to know each other, no you had the day to get to know him before he’d be back off to his own kingdom till the wedding.

“you need to calm down” Padme’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. you look over to where she’s sat on the settee, a concerned look on her face. you’d asked her to come over and help distract you. to her credit she did try at first but she quickly realized nothing she could say or do would occupy your mind from the days events. “i’m calm” you say trying to convince yourself that more then her. “if you can say that while standing still, i’ll believe you” she retorts whilst standing up and walking over to you forcing you to stop pacing as she places her hands on your shoulders.

“you can’t blame me for being nervous, i mean wether this goes well or not this is the man i am to spend the rest of my life with” you vent, feeling your anxiety swirl. you felt like this was an impossible situation, marrying someone you didn’t know. obviously it was a common thing but it didn’t make the reality of it any weirder to you. “what if he doesn’t want to marry me?” it was a stupid question, the better question would be why would he want to marry you. he was being moved away from his home to a foreign place with different traditions and cultures. not to mention an entirely different climate, you’d read up on Tatooine it was a Warm desert kingdom a direct contrast to Alderaan.

“that’s a possibility” Padme answers, not the reassurance you wanted but you didn’t call padme here because she would lie to make you feel better. you called her here because she would give it to you straight but also support you the best way she could. “so then i’ve forced a man into a loveless marriage” you huff, feeling anger course through you as your once again reminded of the councils rash decision that got you into this.

“most people these days end up in loveless marriages y/n. most women at least, we have no say in who we marry it’s all decided by our fathers.” that once again didn’t make you feel any better but it was the hard truth. “this is going to be a long day” you’d slump over if you could but the corset you had on prevented you from most movement that involved bending of any form. “maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised” you could only hope she was right.

“i know it’s silly but growing up i always imagined marrying someone i fell in love with. my mom and dad where in love when they got married, a rare occurrence for monarchs. i always pictured having what they did.” you say sadly, it may not be the end of the world that your marrying a stranger but it was the end of that dream. a cruel awakening to your inner child. “it’s not silly, most little girls wish that” Padme says sympathetically.

“if my dad where still alive he’d have ensured it a reality” you say solemnly, feeling your heart tug at the thought. “Bail was a good man, a good king and a good father” you feel your eyes gloss over at her words, it was times like this you really missed him. your father was everything to you, he was all you had when your mother passed and vice versa. losing him felt like mourning two people at once, learning how to cope without your mother all over again in addition to coping without him.

“i miss him” it came out more as a whisper, you felt that if you spoke any louder the dam would break and tears would spill. Padme was quick to pull you into a tight hug. she was a big help when you lost him, a loyal friend who you knew would always be on your side. “i can’t help but feel i’m failing him” you let out the thought that had been nagging at the back of your mind throughout this whole ordeal. “he was and always will be proud of you” she said firmly, rubbing your back gently.

“would he be proud of me for this though?” you couldn’t help but ask. “circumstances changed y/n, you’ve done what you could. besides it’s not as if this was entirely your decision” she reassured you. you take a deep breath, indulging in the hug you both shared a moment longer before pulling away. “speaking of i really need to do something about the council before another reckless decision is made.”

“the sooner you’re crowned the Queen the better” she says with a laugh trying to lighten the mood, though she was being completely serious. right as you where about to respond your conversation was interrupted by Barclay barging in, an occurrence that was becoming more and more frequent with him.

“your majesty they’re here” he said and you stiffened, the reality of the situation crashing down onto you. you knew this was coming but it hadn’t truly felt real til now.

“oh i’m going to be sick” you mumble just loud enough for padme to hear, she gives you a gentle pat on the back a silent way of saying you’ve got this. as if suddenly reminded of her existence Barclay acknowledges her “Lady Amidala pleasure to see you” it surprisingly sounded genuine, though to be fair he had been sucking up to you the last couple days clearly something clicked in his mind that you where the one who controlled wether he actually had a job or not. that or there was something else motivating him either way his change in attitude didn’t sit right with you, something was off and you could sense it.

“Barclay” was all padme said to greet him not even bothering to turn in his direction to acknowledge him properly. you had to stifle a laugh, god you loved her. she kept her head high and walked right past him, she would be leaving through the gardens so no one knew she was there. the meeting was to be kept secret from everyone aside from the respective royal families.

with a sigh you nodded towards Barclay to signify you where ready. you both walked down the hallways heading to the main foyer, with each step you took you felt as if you where being pulled down. finding it harder and harder to move forward the closer you got. these where your last moments to breath without someone beside you- metaphorically of course, after all as a royal there’s always someone at least five steps from you which was tiring to say the least.

you could swear time was simultaneously moving faster then light and slower then molasses as you watched Barclay nod to the guards to open the doors that stand as the only barrier between you and the one you are to wed. it was hard to breath? but just as quick as the breath got stuck in you it was knocked right out as one of the guards rose there voice impossibly loud to announce your arrival.

“now presenting her Majesty, the Crown Princess Y/n Organa” it honestly made your ears ring but at the very least it served as a nice reminder of where you are and pulled you back down to earth. still it all felt a bit excessive to you considering there was only four people here excluding the guards.

Walking further in so that you and Barclay where now face to face with the two men, you scanned over them quickly. they both where good looking you had to admit, what threw you off though was how drastically different they where dressed from each other. for a moment you almost thought they came from two different places but quickly brushed that off knowing good and well that wasn’t the case.

“hel-“ just as you began to greet the two men you are quickly cut off by a third party you hadn’t even noticed was there. Chancellor Valorum. “greetings you are?” he said and you paused turning to see him standing behind you, how long had he been there? no one else seemed shocked so he must of been there for quite some time you concluded. but why was he there? deciding to act like you had known he was there you turn back to the two men. to your surprise the older looking one of the two directed his attention to you and not Valorum. it brought a small smile to your face, feeling like it was a nice change of pace finally be acknowledged instead of looked over.

“I am Prince Obi-Wan first born son of the Kingdom Tatooine. and this” he gestured to the pretty blonde beside him who could easily tower over you if he was close enough. “is my brother Anakin” he finished and you felt a little giddy, so far so good right? he was tall and handsome you could only hope he was kind and had a personality as good as he looked. though to your dismay the aforementioned man hadn’t even spared you a glance, thinking on it he hadn’t looked at you even when you first entered the room. that fact made your stomach twist.

“neither of your parents are joining us?” the chancellor spoke again before you could get a word in, honestly he was one more sentence away from you clocking him in the face. but you hold your breath and maintain your composure. this time Obi-Wan does acknowledge him but only to answer his question and you were guessing to not seem rude. “unfortunately our mother and father are quite busy but as the future king they deemed it enough for me to go with my brother for this” you felt like a child who could do nothing but watch as the grown ups speak as you look back and forth from the chancellor and him.

Thankfully Obi-Wan was quick to redirect his attention to you. “your highness shall we discuss matters more privately?” why couldn’t conversation with people of power always go this way, taking to you instead of over you. you give him a polite smile before answering. “yes let’s move this elsewhere” you say with a nod. “lead the way.” was all he said in turn.

as you all walk down the halls of the castle you can’t help but notice how quiet prince Anakin was. it worried you, was he always this quiet or was he choosing not to say anything. did he already hate you- to be fair if he did you wouldn’t blame him. if the roles where reversed and your kingdom had been basically black mailed into giving you up as marriage you’d probably hate the person you thought responsable as well. you found yourself actually wishing you two where alone so you could explain yourself and hope he could understand. Then again who’d say he’d believe you, it was worth a try though wasn’t it?

unsurprisingly throughout most of the meeting chancellor Valorum spoke for you any chance he could. and just as in the foyer Obi-Wan directed his answers to you. time dragged as you guys finished up flushing out the details of the agreement more thoroughly. it was all so casual and you couldn’t help but feel sick especially with Anakin sitting right there not saying a word. you couldn’t even get a read on his emotions his face was a blank slate. it made you anxious and you weren’t sure if you wanted to just hurry up and get all of this over already or drag it out longer so you could procrastinate the inevitable.

it was evident just how long the meeting had taken when you were met with the setting sun as you looked out the window. a panic ran through you when you realized you had no time at all to talk Anakin now and the next time you’d see him would be the day of the wedding. you where now truly going into this marriage blind- not that you would of learned much about him today regardless but anything would be better than nothing.

closing up the meeting with a handshake between the chancellor and Obi-Wan, even though he had clearly held his hand out for you- you all stand up and head out of the meeting room.

Anakin had still yet to say a word, Obi-Wan being the one to speak on both there behalf’s when saying goodbye. even as they walked away you watched as he didn’t even speak to his brother, maybe he was mad and his silence was the politest protest he could do. you could only hope your whole marriage wouldn’t be like this, what an awkward life that would be. though maybe you’d get used to it at some point.

all of these thoughts swimming in your head stopped as a pair of blue eyes met yours, it was brief and for a second you thought you’d imagined it. he had look back at you right before the castle doors closed.

that’s all you had to go off of until you would meet again for the wedding day.

part 4

okay guys the next chapter will feature a lot more Anakin and yes the pretty boy will speak 🥰 this took me forever to finish 😀 mainly because i’ve been writing this in between doing work 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯 anyways i hope you all like this chapter i know it was a lot more emotional then the others but reader is going through a lot at once 😭 side note i love reading your reply’s you guys are funny and real asf🤭 that’s all i have to say for now enjoy huns Xx<3

tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss