#Shadow and Bone Master List | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crushmeeren · 9 months

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♡ Master List Link

❥ Everyone in this is aged up/18+.

❥ Fem Reader

❥ Warnings; cursing, teasing, dirty talk, praising, soft! dom Tamaki, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy sex, pussy eating, fingering, vaginal sex

♡ Note; for the lovely anon requester, I super loved writing this, I love Tamaki — the soft dom version of him hits the spot.

Tamaki is, more often than not, tightly wound into a ball of nerves. Not to say he hasn’t gotten any better at being able to handle the reigns of his anxiety, because he certainly has.

It’s just, there’s always a small undercurrent of unease lingering in his belly. Making his pulse thunder, fingers shaking with unrestrained adrenaline each time he gets interviewed after a villain beat down.

He’s ashamed to admit that even when he’s with friends the unsettling sensation remains, albeit minutely. It creeps across the back of his mind, lurking in the shadows at all times.

That is, unless he’s with you, and now, with your baby girl too. Funnily enough, his hands were as steady as they’d ever been when he first held his little girl.

His heart didn’t race, he wasn’t choking to death on butterflies— okay well, those things were happening. Just not in an oh my god the sky is falling type of way. It was in an oh my god I love my family so much I’m gonna throw up scenario.

Tamaki was drowning in his feelings for the two of you, so much so that he definitely did burst into tears.

Tamaki’s sweet little Chiyoko is two years old now, and don’t get him wrong, he’s happy. But fuck — he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit he’s starting to get that itch again. The one that clouds his mind and turns his thoughts into a one track mind of I want a baby, I want a baby, I need to knock her up NOW —

Tamaki just really longs for another little one to raise, someone to teach how to be better than he ever has been. Another person he can completely be himself with, who he’ll love unconditionally. He’ll always strive to give his kids a better world than the one he grew up in.

Although, if he’s being honest, what really severed the pathetically thin thread that was left of his patience was when he came across what must’ve been the 10th pregnant woman while out on patrol today.

All Tamaki could keep picturing was you. With your belly so cute, so swollen and so so round with his baby.

An image involuntarily pops up behind his eyelids. It’s of your pretty face, your lower lip pushed out so sweetly in a pout, tits obscenely spilling over the top of your bra. Tamaki swallows, throat dry as cotton as he works to keep a steady pace while he walks the streets.

His cheeks are burning, a bubblegum pink flush taking over his skin. He can feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck, all the way up to the pointy tips of his ears.

Tamaki frantically pulls the hood of his hero costume further down to obscure his face as his mind sharply turns down a much filthier path.

The vivid image and memory of you riding his cock when you were six months pregnant makes the muscles in his stomach clench in anticipation. He remembers how unbelievably tight your pussy was, how he was able to place his hands possessively on your belly as he gawked at the way you used his cock to make yourself cum.

Fuck, fuck, fuck — he craves the satisfaction of putting another baby into you so badly his balls ache.

His heart stutters when he realizes his cock is rapidly thickening against his inner thigh, hot and full.

Tamaki then urgently speed walks back to his hero agency as if he’s leaving a trail of fire behind him, because he’s pretty sure the stretchy spandex of his hero outfit is not going to hide his humiliating boner.

Later on that evening, after your daughter has fallen asleep, you find yourself with your hands bound to the metal slats of your headboard. A soft, smooth, silky material caressing your skin, and binding your wrists together above your head.

Your skin seems to be stretched too tightly over your bones, entire body flushing white hot as Tamaki traces the pads of fingers feather light over your bare breasts.

You’re both naked now, and he’s been playing with you for what feels like a lifetime. He’s been teasing you relentlessly as his thumbs delicately circle your nipples until they pebble up. Your pussy throbs in response.

“Tama,” you whine lowly, arching your spine as he grips your left tit playfully. You push further into his touch, craving so much more from your husband than he’s giving you. You twitch as his other hand traces your lower belly idly.

“Hm? Is this not enough for you my goddess?” Tamaki teases you with a soft voice, punctuating his words with another rough squeeze to your tit. He makes sure to pinch your nipple in between his fingers this time.

You bends your knees and let your thighs spread open even further to fit his lithe frame as you let out a breathy sigh.

“Fuck no, it’s not enough Tamaki,” you complain, irritation lacing your voice as you strain against the silk that ties you down. Goosebumps litter your arms when rests his warm palms over the bumps of your ribs, fingers splaying out just under the swell of your tits.

“No? My, that’s a bit bratty of you,” He reprimands, warm breath tickling over your skin as he presses a kiss to your sternum.

“Baby,” you say, asking for his attention. You tilt your head down to stare at him with wide eyes. “Please I want your mouth so bad.”

Slender fingers dig into your ribs, forcing a squeak out of you as it tickles you. Tamaki only hums, pressing a line of kisses down your soft belly, lowering himself onto his own as he makes his way to your pussy.

“Here?” Tamaki asks innocently before he kisses the sensitive area of your hip bone, sucking on the skin a little. Your hips twitch, trying to move his head to your pussy — which is starting to ache, puffy and slick from being so turned on.

“No,” you whimper, fingers curling into fists, nails digging into the flesh of your palms where you’re still tied up. Tamaki places his hands on the underside of your thighs, easily pushing them open further for him.

“Oh, so you must mean here?” He giggles, dipping his head to kiss the inner part of your thigh, close to the seam that connects to your groin. He nips at the skin there sharply, making you gasp.

“You know that’s not it Tamaki,” you huff, wiggling in place, frustratedly tugging at the silk yet again. Your shoulders start to ache and you have the insanely strong urge to tangle your fingers in his soft, purple hair.

Taking action, you maneuver your legs until you can rest your thighs over his shoulders, heels ready to dig into his upper back. He instinctively wraps an arm around your thigh.

He uses the other hand to brush his fingers through the small patch of curly hair you left above your clit. His cock twitches looking at it because it’s basically a neon sign pointing him straight down to your pretty pussy.

“I’m not quite sure what you want then baby,” Tamaki sighs, pretending to be disappointed. “Ya know, only good girls get what they ask for. You should use your words better, don’t you think?” He remarks thoughtfully, pinching your clit between his thumb and fore finger, trying to bite back his smile. One of his canines pokes out over his bottom lip.

“Tamaki!” You hiss, pressing upwards towards his mouth. The hero wraps both his arms around your thighs, halting your movement completely. “Fucking—Tamaki, please baby, I want you to eat my pussy,” you reluctantly beg, teeth grinding together in frustration.

“Oh! I see, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place? Such a good girl though, using your words,” Tamaki replies happily, brushing his warm lips over your clit when he speaks, and you could strangle the man right now.

His slick tongue is so close to your clit you have the urge to rip apart the silk tie and shove his face into you.

“Tamaki I swear, if you don’t — oh,” Your complaint is cut short. Your jaw falls open, fists clenching tightly when your husband’s tongue finally parts the lips of your pussy. Leisurely, he swirls circles into your clit, forcing a rush of warm shivers down your spine as he kitten licks at you.

“Oh my god Tamaki,” you keen, voice thick with pleasure. “Please don’t stop,” you plead, thighs threatening to suffocate him as you cross your ankles over his back.

He rewards you by sucking your clit between his lips, flicking his tongue up and down occasionally. He teased you for so long before that you’re already starting to feel an ominous knot tighten up behind your navel.

“Tama I wanna, oh!” Your breath hitches. “Fingers, want your fingers in my pussy, please!” You blurt urgently, tugging painfully at your restraints.

You squeeze your eyes shut when Tamaki hums, smoothly freeing himself from one of your thighs.

With no resistance, he slips his two middle fingers inside, stretching you just the way you needed him to. He thrusts and curls his fingers at a steady pace, never letting up the suction on your clit. His tongue teasing just under the hood and turning you in a pile of mush.

“Just like that, Tamaki please, I wanna cum,” you say desperately, tilting your head to look at him again and meeting his gaze. His eyes are half lidded, pale skin flushed. He’s so pretty it physically hurts.

The knot of your orgasm tightens frighteningly fast. Not to mention, just the sight of Tamaki between your legs is overwhelming.

The base of your skull digs into your pillow as the water balloon pops, your orgasm gushing through your limbs like heated honey.

Your mouth opens in a silent o shape as your entire body goes taught. Your back arches off the bed, pussy acting as a vice while you cum around Tamaki’s fingers. He makes sure to move fluidly with your hips as you roll them against his mouth.

Your husband pulls his mouth off your over sensitive clit with a pop, fingers still fucking the life out of you.

“Look at you, such a good girl, cumming on my fingers so sweetly,” Tamaki coos. His pink tongue pokes out to lick his shiny lips, moaning huskily at the taste.

After a few seconds, your body begins to melt back into into the mattress below. Your thighs releasing the death grip on his head. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, watching Tamaki push himself up with one hand, settling back on his haunches as he slides his fingers free.

“You’re too good at that,” you laugh, chancing a peak at your husband’s hard, leaking cock.

He’s got such a pretty dick. He’s thick and pale, sticking straight out, a pale pink at the tip. It twitches a few times under your praise, precum making the tip shiny. Saliva gathers in your mouth as you imagine licking him clean and swallowing him whole.

Tamaki smiles shyly down at you like he’s read your mind. To distract you, he rolls his thumb over your puffy clit, making you wince.

“I know you want to suck my cock, but I need to be inside you baby. Want me to untie your hands?” He asks lovingly, running the knuckles of his clean hand over your cheek. You nod, humming softly.

“Please,” you laugh, tugging on the silk for emphasis. He chuckles gently in return, leaning over to untie your wrists.

As he does, the warm, spongy tip of his cock glides through the mess he’s made of your pussy. Massaging your clit, and making you both moan. The weight of his cock making you feverish.

Tamaki’s eyes are intense as they stare into yours. He lets you free, hands hovering nearing your face. You pause, flexing your fingers, allowing the blood to flow through your veins. You can feel the tension smoldering deliciously between you both, about to blaze.

Hands plant themselves on either side of your head, and then Tamaki’s suddenly smashing his against yours. He tilts his head to the side as his lips meet yours over and over.

Your fingers finally weave through his soft hair, tugging on it roughly. He lets his sharp canines catch on your bottom lip in return, easily swallowing the moans he’s dragging out of you.

Tamaki breaks the kiss, sitting back on his heels. Your hands fall limply to your sides when he moves away. He places his palms on your inner thighs, pushing them wide open. You let out a sound of protest, lower lip jutting out. He bites the tip of his tongue, looking amused.

“Don’t pout my queen, I know what your pussy really wants,” he says, lightly slapping your clit. You jolt in surprise, fingers fisting the soft material of the sheets.

“Yeah — okay, please fuck me,” you agree, feeling sweat bead up in the hollow of your throat.

“I’m gonna stuff you to the brim princess,” Tamaki says, voice airy but eager. He uses one hand to keep you spread, the other gripping the base of his shaft as he pushes the tip of his cock inside you His jaw clenches at just how tight, how perfect you are.

“I know Tama, c’mon, I want to make you a daddy again,” you urge him, wolfish grin pulling at your lips. Tamaki pauses, blinking at you in surprise with a rapidly forming blush. Said man raises an eyebrow, slipping the rest of his cock in without any warning. It punches a strangled sound from your lungs as you grip your pillow for leverage.

“My queen’s got a filthy mouth,” Tamaki croons, hooking your knees over his elbows — effectively folding you into a pretzel as leans forward, hands braced by your shoulders this time. “It’s hot,” he giggles. The glare you level him with holds no heat behind it.

He wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls his hips backwards halfway, before thrusting forward smoothly and filling you completely. You grip his shoulders, head falling backwards into the mattress. His cock is so so good.

“You feel amazing,” you tell him with a moan. The glide of his cock inside you is fucking perfect every time, splitting you open just the way you love.

“Yeah? Your pussy fits me like a glove princess, it drives me crazy,” Tamaki pants, warm breath ghosting over your face. He’s drinking up your reactions as if he’s never had a drop of water in his life.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, hanging onto his muscled forearms now. “Harder,” you tell him, your face scrunching up as your eyes flutter shut. All you can focus on is the way he slides in and out of you, carving out a space for himself.

“Yes baby, you take me so well. You’re so pretty like this,” Tamaki praises low and smooth like butter. He gives you what you want, curling hips up slightly so he can hit your g-spot spot dead on.

Your nails create crescent shapes in his forearms, spine rising off the bed as much as you can in this folded position. Your blood is buzzing, eyes rolling so far back into your skull you’re afraid they’ll get stuck.

“Tamaki!” You sob. “I can — oh my god, feels like you’re in my guts.” Your legs flex over his elbows, his strength keeping you pinned however he chooses.

“It’s called a mating press for a reason baby,” Tamaki huffs a laugh, his eyebrows pinching together as the sound of his pelvis smacking your ass pushes him closer to the edge.

Tamaki makes you cum this way multiple times. Enough to make you see stars, hearing going fuzzy as you notice your hips start to ache. Then you’re begging him to cum inside you— making his cock jerk excitedly.

“I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to see you cum on my cock like this princess,” he says, as if in awe of the very sight of you.

Tamaki knows he’s not going to last much longer as he starts throbbing repeatedly, the way you’re suffocating him makes his brain mushy.

“Tamaki,” you murmur, hands reaching up to frame his face. “Cum inside me,” you demand, bringing his face down to kiss his jaw.

“I can’t wait to see your belly stretched with my baby again, you’re such a good mama,” he coos softly, turning his head so you can kiss his neck. You lick a stripe up his neck, tasting the salty sweat there and he groans. “Fuck, m’gonna cum, you’re made to take my cock, made to give me babies,” Tamaki babbles, thrusting shallow and desperate.

The tiny, rhythmic squeezes of your pussy are enough to push him over the edge, because suddenly he’s shoving his cock inside you entirely. The curly, coarse hair at his base tickling your skin.

Tamaki’s cock twitches relentlessly, stuffing you with small thrusts until he’s sucking in air through his teeth when he gets overstimulated.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hugging him to your chest as Tamaki drops your legs. You sigh in relief, feet tingling as you crack your toes. The two of you catch your breath for a moment, hearts thundering.

Eventually, your husband rises, forcing you to drop your hands to the bed once again. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he pulls out of you slowly, admiring the sticky, white cum coating his cock.

He groans as he tracks the way his cum trails out of you. Before he can think better of it he drags a thumb over your pussy, gathering a bit of it and wrapping his lips around his thumb to suck it off.

“Tamaki!” You gasp, mildly scandalized and cheeks burning furiously from the nasty sight.

“I wanted a taste,” he says nonchalantly, pulling his thumb from his mouth with a wet pop.

A startled laugh slips from your lips and then Tamaki is infected with it, laughing along with you. You both giggle as he lays down on his side, facing you. He places a hand on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his, resting your hands on your sternum.

“You’re lucky we didn’t wake up Chiyoko,” you scold him, halfhearted in your attempt. He just smiles, eyes shining as he laughs.

“I would’ve put her back to bed,” Tamaki appeases, squeezing your hand playfully. You hum, content enough with his answer to relax and enjoy the post orgasm glow.

“I can’t wait to be pregnant again,” you admit in a hushed voice, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’ll be just as beautiful as you always are,” Tamaki whispers so sweetly it’s tooth rotting.

The two of you bask in each others company for a bit longer, daydreaming about the baby you hope you’ve just you created before you do anything else.

#tamaki amajiki smut #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki #amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader #mha smut #mha x reader #amajiki tamaki #amajiki smut

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artists-ally · 10 months

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{Show Me Where It Hurts} Azriel x Reader x Xaden Riorson

Sooooooo I had a thought. And then this happened. That's all I'm gonna say. Just two shadow daddies doing unspeakable things. Title inspired by this song. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,238

Warnings: ACOTAR x Fourth Wing, alcohol, smut, MMF, Oral (m and f receiving), DP, dom/sub vibes, use of the nickname "pet", bondage, shadow play, degrading, spanking, choking, spitting, unprotected sex.

Tagging: @needylilgal022 @librafairy @cyrygher @agent-anna @thelov3lybookworm @blessthepizzaman @bubybubsters

Summary: After a miserably failed night out, you decide to head to a local bar to drink away your sorrows. Two males, one of them being your Court Spy Master, the other a stranger, approached you.

~~~~~

“Are you kidding me?” “I understand your frustration but-”

“My frustration?” I shouted, eyes wide. “What do you mean he did book a reservation?”

“There has been no reservation made under that name. I am truly sorry, Yn. But it looks like he may have… done it on purpose?”

“No,” I shook my head. I could not fathom being stood up let alone whatever this was. “No this cannot be right. I-I spoke with him this morning, he said that our table was reserved for tonight.” The hostess offered me a kind look as the realization slowly settled in my bones. “Oh my gods… he set me up.”

“If I were you,” the pretty Fae came around her stand and took my hands in hers. “I’d find a way to forget about that damned male. He clearly is undeserving of you or your kindness. I wouldn’t sweat it, a pretty one like you won’t go unnoticed for very long.”

I tried to smile, but a grimace was the best I could do. “I feel like such an idiot. Thank you for all your help…” I paused to look at the little tag on her black tunic. “Jasmina.”

“My deepest apologies, Yn,” Jasmina waved as I exited the restaurant and the bitter Velaris air nipped at my bare shoulders.

What a fucking lame excuse for a male. How dare he stand me up on a date? He was the one practically begging on his knees to ask me. I should’ve known better. Males like him do not like females like me.

In an attempt to not let the night–or the fierce outfit I put together-go to waste, I went a couple streets over to a tavern. It had a nice ambiance and a surplus of good liquor. The dark, rustic interior greeted me with a ploom of warm air and the scent of cheap ale and wine.

After hanging my coat on the rack at the front, I weaved through the rather crowded space to hopefully snag a stool at the bar. I was lucky enough to get one at the end, only one person to my left and the wall to my right.

I just sighed. What a shitty day. I had spent a few hours getting read, and for what? To be made a fool? To be embarrassed? I shouldn’t have to pay the consequences for something I didn’t have control over. I swear to the gods that if I ever see what’s-his-face again I’ll put my fist through it.

“Evening, milady,” the polished man behind the counter said. He had a thick beard and a mustache that curled up on the ends. He had a thick accent too, probably from somewhere in the hills. “Celebrating tonight?” “More like mourning,” I huffed, bracing my chin on my palm.

“Terribly sorry for your loss,” his eyes softened. “Oh,” I gave a chuckle. “No, not a death. I just came in from what was supposed to be a date. Turns out I was set up and he wasn’t going to be coming.”

The male scoffed. “The boldness from some of the males in this city.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What can I get for you?” He asked, wiping a few glasses down and setting them atop a stack.

I looked at the board behind him, the list of crafted beverages going on and on. “Maybe something sweet?”

“Do you like cherries? Passion fruit, pineapple maybe?”

“Cherries are wonderful,” I sat up a little straighter. “I honestly couldn’t care less about what alcohol is in it. You had me at cherries.”

The male smiled, “I shall put in an extra just for you, darling.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and watched him get to work.

The tavern was far more crowded than I expected for a weekday. There were more people than tables and chairs to accommodate them. Some even sitting on the tables. But the hum of voices and clinking glasses was the type of ambient sound that could put me right to sleep if I laid my head down.

I felt incredibly comfortable and safe here. Not that I didn’t other places in the city, but something about being here was… calming. People were enjoying themselves, and it was like I was the only person in here with a scowl on their face.

The crack of billiards had my head turning the other way as I saw a group huddled around a green velvet table with colored balls scattered around. I recognized one immediately as our High Lady. And right beside her was the High Lord.

“This is called a cherry sour. It is made of distilled vodka and lemon. I added some cherry syrup to give it a little extra sweetness for you,” he said, placing the drink in front of me.

“It looks lovely.” I smelled it and it was strong. When I took a sip, it was like my brain blew up. The most strange combinations of flavors, yet somehow it all worked. The brutal burn of the alcohol mixed with the bitter lemon and sweet cherry made my stomach burn. “I see the High Lord is in tonight.”

“Yes,” he nodded, “he is here with the High Lady and a few of their courtiers. The commanding general as well as the Morrigan. And the shadowsinger is here… somewhere. He was with another male when he walked in.”

“I have visited other Courts before. I have never seen any of their High Lords step foot outside of their palaces to so much as wave at their people let alone live amongst them like Rhysand does.”

The craftsman nodded in agreement. “He is not the traditional Lord our continent has come to know, and that is what makes him a vital part of our city. He’s our founder. He built our sanctuary not for us but for himself, too. It is only fair that he dines and plays games where he chooses.”

“Have you ever met them?” I asked curiously.

“Of course, they are here a few times a month. Morrigan and Cursebreaker’s sister are in here more.”

I glanced again, finding a few more heads now joining them. The general, Cassian, was in conversation with a shorter male, his brown hair glistening in the overhead light. He had a tattoo on the side of his neck and it disappeared underneath the collar of his black shirt.

At first I thought it to be the shadowsinger but it wasn’t him. His hair was too light. The more I looked, the more I realized that he looked a little out of place. He had darker skin than either of our Illyrians, and he didn’t have wings. For just a second he turned his head and I caught a glimpse of a scar on his face. Above his left brow and below his eye.

He was very pleasant to look at.

“I will be back, I need to break up some ice in the back,” the bartender spoke generally to the crowd. In a second he was out of sight and out of mind. I could not stop looking at this male.

The curls in his hair looked soft and fluffy and I really wanted to run my fingers through them. Though he was shorter than the general, he was at least a head taller than me, if not a half more than that. Whoever he was…

That couldn’t be the shadowsinger, could it? From all that I’ve heard of the illusive male this did not match any of the descriptions. He was just as tall– if not taller– as Azriel, but the hair… It was too light. And now wings. No shadows. Our High Lord can summon his wings, maybe the others can as well? Plus, I’ve heard that the scars the shadowsinger has on his hands are rather brutal. This male didn’t have any scars on his hands that I could see.

The air around me cooled and I shivered, wishing I had brought my jacket with me. It was like a door just opened and a draft seeped in around me. Up my legs and around my ankles.

To not appear creepy I looked elsewhere, not finding any of the other males in the room as interesting as the one with the brown fluffy hair. There was a couple sitting in a booth across the room, very clearly struggling to keep their affection tame. Another was dancing together and I became painfully aware of just how awful my dating life had been.

I threw back the rest of my drink, just as the bartender returned and ordered a few shots of something stronger. Much stronger by the smell of it. The warmth of it spread through my arms and fingers and the room seemed to get a little rowdier.

“Before I pour another, milady, I would just like to ask if you have a safe way to get home,” he asked kindly.

I smiled at the tenderness in his voice. “Yes, I live right down the way in the set of townhouses by the Sidra. Two minute walk.”

“Excellent.” Another shot was placed in front of me.

I kept sneaking glances at our High Lord and Lady. They looked so magnificent. Like a true emperor and empress. And they looked so happy to be together. Not with just themselves but with the general and whoever this other male was. Perhaps someone from Illyria?

Again, the whole no wings thing was throwing me off.

Wait, where did he-

“Excuse me,” a deep, rough voice said from beside me. My eyes met the most beautiful set of eyes I’ve ever seen. A dark, almost black color with flecks of amber and gold. It was the male I had been gawking at for the past half hour. He had an accent like I’ve never heard before. “I am Xaden.”

I stared at his extended hand for a moment before shaking it. “Yn.”

“Yn,” he practically purred. “A very beautiful name.”

It was hard not to blush. “I don’t mean to sound rude but are you-”

“Hey, there you are. We were just about to start another game did you…” The Spy Master of the Night Court stopped right beside him. His hazel eyes locked with mine and my stare darted between the two. The two very attractive, tall, muscular males in front of me. “Hello there.”

“This is Yn,” Xaden introduced me. “I was just about to ask if I could buy her a drink but I think you had a question for me?”

All thoughts leave my brain. Just above the shadowsingers shoulders lay his wings, and curling around them were those infamous shadows. The most lethal male on the continent stood two feet from me. And he was looking at me like… I didn’t let myself finish that thought.

I cleared my throat, “I was going to ask where you’re visiting from. You have a very… foreign accent.”

Xaden smiled a little and I thought I’d collapse on the ground. “I come from Navarre. A place far from here.”

“I’ve never heard of Navarre,” I said truthfully. But if males like him came from there then maybe I need to visit.

“It’s not entirely accessible,” he folded his arms across his chest. His very muscular and sculpted chest. “I am just visiting a friend.”

I looked at Azriel, who, much to my surprise, hadn’t taken his eyes off me. I shifted in my seat. “You two are friends?”

“Only recently,” Azriel spoke and I felt his voice crawl down my spine. “Xaden here is the closest thing to me that his puny world has to offer.”

“Puny?” Xaden’s eyes went wild. “Take away your wings and siphons and see how well you do as Basgiath. I doubt you’d last five minutes on Sgaeyl in a basic flight maneuver.”

“Basgiath? S-Sgaeyl?” The names were so weird in my mouth.

“Basgiath is the name of our War College. And Sgaeyl is my dragon.”

His what?

“Riroson here thinks that I couldn’t mount and ride a dragon. I’d like to see you take on the Bogge or a Naga with those tiny daggers of yours,” Azriel broke his gaze away from mine to take a sip of whatever was in his glass. “Pathetic.”

“You have a dragon?” I most certainly didn’t hear him correctly. “But they’re-”

“Not where I’m from, they’re not. See, we don’t have magic like you do here in Prythian. Back home, we have to study, bond with a dragon, and then we get the ability to channel their power. Mine just so happens to be shadow-wielding. Apparently this one could feel it across our world and tracked me down. He’s been teaching me for a few years now.”

“And somehow you still can’t manage to winnow,” Azriel rolled his eyes playfully.

“Some of us haven’t had centuries of practice, asshole,” Xaden retorted. If I had known anything about Azriel, I fully expected him to flatten out this Xaden guy.

“You’re not Fae?”

“No offense, but who would want to live forever?” He shrugged. A valid response. It was only then that I saw the roundness of his mortal ears.

Azriel grumbled a curse. “I apologize for him. He is cranky after his long flight here. I’m Azriel, I’m not sure I introduced myself.”

“I know,” I forced myself to look anywhere but his gorgeous face. Easily the most attractive Fae I’ve ever seen.

“Are you here with anyone? I saw you walk in about an hour ago and haven’t seen you talk with anyone,” he asked. He saw me walk in? “If my night had gone any better than yes, I would be here with someone. But, instead, he had other plans and never showed up for our reservation.”

Both of the males stood completely silent. I watched Azriel’s eyes narrow, his jaw clench. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I could feel that bubble of emotion rise up in my throat, pricking my nose and eyes. “He’s just some nobody I was seeing. His loss.”

“Biggest fucking mistake he’ll ever make,” Xaden scooted in closer, leaning his forearms on the counter. “What were you drinking? Next one's on me.”

“Oh, that’s kind of you but I would like to wake up in the morning without any regrets. A water will do,” I smiled sweetly at him and he returned it without a second thought.

I felt Azriel move closer to me and I could just barely see him in my peripheral vision. I tried not to look. It was so hard. All I wanted to do was look at him. Then he was closer. A lot closer. His arm across the back of the stool I was sitting in.

Oh gods his scent.

“For you,” Xaden slipped a cool glass of water in my hands. “To you, Yn.”

I blushed as I knocked my glass with theirs.

“Not to impose, but I would like to know more about this asshole who stood you up tonight. Because clearly he’s not right in the head for leaving you. Especially when you look so good.”

I couldn’t help the flush that spread down my neck and up my ears. “I don’t know, we met over the weekend and he asked if we could go on a date. I said yes. And I think what makes it even worse is that I was looking forward to it. I was excited to get all dressed up and go out for the first time in months. Now I just feel like a fucking idiot for getting my hopes up and wanting to-”

“Hey.” Xaden’s finger pulled my chin to look up at him. “You are not the problem. That mother fucker has another thing coming if he thinks he could’ve ever given you what you need.”

I’d like to focus on the latter part of that statement, but all I could think of was his face– inches from mine– and his other hand at my knee. My heart thrashed and I was so still I wasn’t sure if I was breathing or not.

“I think you’re scaring her, Riorson,” Azriel said from behind me. Then I became aware of just how close he was to me. He practically spoke right against my neck. A hand brushed at my right shoulder and I shuddered.

“If you’re willing, we’re offering.” Xaden has this gleam in his eye and a smirk on his lips.

I had to sit up a little so I could start seeing clearly. “I-I’m sorry ‘we’re’?”

“You don’t have to say yes,” Xaden grinned. “But, if you’d like to erase this guy from your thoughts, all you have to do is show me where it hurts. I promise I can make it all better.”

Is he asking what I think he is? I looked at Azriel who had the same look Xaden did. Full of mischief.

“You… You can’t be serious.” They were playing games with me. They have to be. There’s no way that our Court Spy Master and whoever this guy was from Navarre were willing to share.

“Az?” Is all Xaden said.

Fingers brushed my hair over my shoulder and tucked it out of the way. I gasped when Azriel kissed down my neck. I think I’m shaking, though it could just be my pulse beating so wildly through my veins that it feels like I’m shaking. But I definitely can't feel my fingers anymore.

Xaden stepped in a little closer and blocked most of my view of the rest of the bar. “May I?” He held out a hand. I swallowed and nodded as best as I could with Azriel gently nipping at my throat. Xaden quickly placed his mouth on mine.

I got lost in him. In both of them. All the bells and whistles in my body were going off at once. I’ve never done anything like this before. I had two of the most attractive looking individuals in the world right here. Both kissing me.

In a few seconds Xaden pulled from my mouth and Azriel went with him. I was suddenly so cold and needed them back exactly where they were. My thighs clenched together.

“What do you say, want to take out all your anger, your frustration and disappointment, on us?” Xaden asked softly, right into my ear. The way he pulled it between his lips made it very difficult to say no. Not that I wanted to in the first place. I’d be a fool to say no.

I nodded eagerly.

Azriel clicked his tongue and made me look at him. “Need you to say it, Yn.”

“Yes,” I said without a second thought. “Yes.”

Both of them chuckled. “Let’s get out of here.”

As we made our way down the street, both of the males on either side of me, I was burning with desire; every so often– about every three or four steps– one of them would have to pause, spin me around, and kiss me until I saw stars. They ‘just couldn’t help it’.

Not that I minded.

“Apologies if the place is a mess,” Azriel said, unlocking a door. It looked vaguely familiar, and when I looked up and across the street, I realized why.

“Hey, that’s my place right there,” I smiled, looking at the small rose bushes lining my little walkway.

“Would you rather go there instead? No pressure if you do,” Xaden’s hands went down my sides and hips as he spoke.

I nearly collapsed onto the floor. “No, no this is fine I don’t think I can wait.” “Impatient, are we?” Xaden murmured into my hair.

“Well,” I blew out a breath as he nipped at my ear. “I’m not exactly dreading being taken to be by two males.”

“Hopefully we won’t ruin you for any other lovers.”

Was it bad that I hoped they would?

The door gave away and it was flooded with Azriel’s scent. A mixture of Xaden’s too, but it was hard to differentiate them. His was far more subtle than the shadowsingers. They guided me inside, lights coming on along the halls and overhead.

“Have you ever…” Xaden trailed off and I flushed a deep red.

“No, I’ve never done this before.” My laugh was a pathetic attempt to hide my nerves.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you,” Xaden grinned and gave my mouth what it wanted most. His tongue was hot against mine and I pressed as close to him as I could get. For a moment I couldn’t see or hear anything, and then we were in a bedroom that seemed far too massive for this little townhouse.

I looked around; a massive bed was standing right before me, dark curtains over a door that led to a balcony.

“Did we just-”

“Winnowing,” Azriel explained, pulling me out of Xadens arms and into his own. “This is far easier when we have room. Like Xaden said, we’re gonna take care of you. Any time you feel uncomfortable just tell us to stop and we will. We do this at your pace, you control it.”

Weirdly enough, my heart ached at the tenderness in his voice. But my body did not want to be in control. It wanted everything but. “And what if I said that I didn’t want to make any decisions. That I just wanted to feel and nothing else.”

I saw Azriel look up first, then felt Xaden press against my backside. I was squished between them and I thanked the Mother that I never went on that date tonight. But they looked at each other.

Azriel grinned. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. I need it.”

“Aww, you’re that desperate already?” Xaden pulled me into his body, one hand gripping my face to make me look at him, the other wrapped around my stomach. “We haven’t even touched you yet, pretty thing. Haven’t even tasted you.”

“What are you waiting for?” I have no idea where this boldness is coming from.

Xaden stepped away from me and laid at the top of the bed. “Come here, then.”

No turning back now.

I crawled to him on my hands and knees. The dress I was wearing did nothing to hide my ass any longer. Xadens hand reached out, and when I was close enough, he grabbed me by my throat and pulled me into his lap. Pulled my mouth on his. I let out a very pathetic noise.

His other hand made me sit right on his cock and I could feel everything that was waiting for me. I moved my hips in a circle and he let out a breath, his dark, almost gold flecked eyes looking at me with hunger.

The bed dipped and Azriel pulled my hair back so I looked up at him. “You don’t have to be ashamed if you want to scream our names while we fuck away the pain, Yn.”

I nodded, wanting to twist so I could kiss him but Xaden firmly planted my hips to his. “I didn’t tell you to stop moving, pretty thing.”

I obeyed him. It was such an odd angle; to have my head thrown all the way back but my hips moving. It made it hard to breathe.

“I think she’s getting impatient, Riorson,” Azriel said as if I wasn't even there.

“Yeah I can feel how wet she is.” Xaden curiously slipped a hand between my legs, a few fingers trailing the crease of my thigh. “You really are impatient, aren’t you?”

“Please…”

“Please what?” Azriel pulled my hair harder. “Come on, use your words, Yn. Don’t be shy.”

I whimpered. “Please touch me, Xaden.”

“How can I resist when you ask so nicely.”

Azriel released his grip and Xaden lifted up my hips, pulling down my thong. His fingers were cold against my pussy. I shivered. His fingers were so long. It took everything in me to not fuck myself on them. The shadowsinger remained behind me and slipped the thin straps of my dress off my shoulders.

“Arms up.” Azriel commanded. The dress was lifted off my body and I felt very exposed. But soon enough he was against me, his hard chest against my back. “Kiss him.”

I burned red at the tone of his voice. But I kissed Xaden with enough force to make him bite my lip, catching my tongue between his teeth next. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my chest to his. I jolted as he brushed my clit and he let out a dark chuckle, doing it again and again.

“So easy,” Xaden muttered, pushing me on my back effortlessly. I watched as he stuck his two fingers in his mouth. “Fuck do you taste good, pretty thing.”

His massive hands spread my thighs apart after he threw my underwear somewhere in the room. Those brown curls felt just as soft as I imagined. I didn’t care if I was being desperate, I needed his mouth between my legs. The first pass of his tongue made me go limp. I let my head fall back, my knees parting even further.

My body welcomed him as he explored, tongue flicking, hands bruising my skin. Fingers brushed my chest, so faintly I thought I might’ve imagined it. Azriel had gone somewhere, but I was too focused on Xaden to care at this moment. When I looked down, those were not fingers playing with me, but rather tendrils of shadow circling around.

“What the-”

“Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay Yn,” Azriel said from my right, standing further in the room. He was undressing, the fighting leathers he had been wearing folded neatly on a desk. His wings were... dear gods his wings were massive. “It’s just me. Nothing to be afraid of.”

Pleasure and fear coursed through me at the same time. My brain and body were on fire with emotions as I watched them drift and encase my body. They were cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the boiling temperature of my skin. As I watched, I settled. It was quite fascinating.

A sharp smack to the inside of my thigh had me looking at Xaden. “Focus on me.”

I nodded and I became aware of just how close I was to my release. I panted and writhed, itching for something to grab onto. Something to touch and yank-

My hands were above my head two seconds later and I was dragged to the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” Xaden shouted and another wave of fear crashed through me. “I was in the middle of something.”

“Well, it’s my turn, Riorson,” Azriel gritted his teeth, taking himself in his hand. “You can still have her legs for now. But I need to feel her mouth.”

Were they fighting for me? For my body? I smiled. So wide it hurt. I obediently opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue, enticing him further. In tandem, I spread my legs as wide as they could go for Xaden.

“You’re so well trained, pet.” Azriel wasted no time forcing his cock down my throat. I couldn’t breathe, but that’s how I wanted it. He thrusted in slowly, stopping when he was all the way, then pulled back out. “You take my cock so well, Yn. I’m so proud of you.”

“If you think her mouth feels good, wait till you get inside her pussy. She’s so warm and tight.”

I moaned around Azriel, knees fluttering off the bed as Xaden sucked my clit. The shadows continued to writhe around my nipples and I felt so exposed. I couldn’t keep still. My legs trembled and I felt that coil in my stomach clenching and clenching. I wanted Xaden’s cock between my legs more than his tongue, but I couldn’t tell him that with Azriel down my throat.

“Do you think she can take both of us?” Azriel asked, brushing a hand across my cheek, then it gently wrapped around my neck. I choked hard enough for tears to streak down my face.

“Hmm,” Xaden hummed around me and I thrashed. “Well, that was adorable. As for fitting both of us? It’s possible. Probably gonna hurt. Don’t worry, he’ll work you open on his cock so good you won’t have a choice but to take both of us.”

“We don’t want to hurt her, Riorson,” Azriel cupped my cheeks. “Unless you want us to, pet?”

I nodded immediately. He pulled out and I heaved for fresh air, eyes glossy as I looked up at him. “Don’t be gentle.”

The way Azriels’ eyes darkened should have made me afraid. Instead it filled me with a primal desire. The force of his hips was brutal. The slight salty taste of his skin was intoxicating. I gagged around him with every press of his tip at the back of my throat, tears burning down my face.

Without any resemblance of a warning, my release barreled through me and I shook, legs kicking out as Xaden continued to tongue fuck me until I saw stars. He kept going. He didn’t stop.

I tried to get him to ease, to let up but my hands were bound at my sides. That same cool feeling sliding around my wrists as it did my chest. It was so much. Already too much.

“Alright, she’s had enough,” Xaden finally pulled away from my throbbing cunt, caressing my thigh and the bruises there. His chin glistened with my cum, and he didn’t let any of it go to waste as his tongue dragged over his lips.

“I’ll tell you when she’s had enough. Get back up on the bed. Strip.” With a more than heavy shove, Azriel sheathed himself inside me one last time, held just long enough to make me panic for a breath. “Good girl, Yn.”

I hiccuped a small sob, already teetering on my breaking point. Azriel sat me up and pushed me down on my hands and knees. In front of me was Xaden. His very hard cock straining up. The shadowsinger’s hand fisted in my hair and I was forced to take his cock down.

“Stay right there, pet. Don’t move. You came without permission. Since you decided to be so greedy, you’re gonna get Xaden off while I punish you.” A merciless hand smacked my ass hard enough to make an outline of his hand. “Got it?”

I nodded around Xaden’s cock and yelped when another smack came down. Xaden groaned, his sculpted abdominal and chest flexing. One arm was behind his head, the other on my head. He was far more gentle than Azriel was, but I could see his control slipping as he thrusted up in time with Azriel’s hand on my ass.

“Fuck she feels good, Az,” Xaden praised, cupping my cheek. “And you look so pretty full of my cock. Gods I can’t wait to be in that pussy.”

I squeaked out an embarrassing noise when Azriel dragged his cock through my cunt, coating himself in my release. Just the tip of him had me stretching and I had to squeeze my eyes shut to block out the sting. With a snap of his hips, he slid in deeper and deeper and deeper-

“That’s it, pet. Take all of my cock. Good girl, Yn. Good girl.” His cooing made it impossible not to cry out around Xaden. As Azriel pulled back, slowly, he grabbed my hips and took me with him. I scrambled to try and keep Xaden’s cock in my mouth, but I was too far away now.

“Look at how desperate she is for you, Riorson. She wants your cock soooo badly she’s fighting me for it.” Azriel ran his nails down my spine. “How about we play a little game, pet. When I pull out of you, you have to keep your mouth on him or else you get a smack. How does that sound?”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Xaden. He had a flush to his cheeks. The same primal hunger I had in my eyes. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to have him come down my throat. A sharp crack rang through the room and I screamed.

“I want an answer. Now.” Azriel demanded, yanking me up and forcing me down on his thick cock.

“Yes yes yes,” I babbled. “Please let me make Xaden feel good.”

“You’re so pretty when you beg like that,” Xaden mumbled, dragging me back down to him by my wrist. I wrapped my lips around him and worked up and down. He was just as big as Azriel. But the shadowsinger was bigger.

Azriel’s hands on my hips hurt almost as much as the hand that smacked me. I’m sure it was bright red and swollen. Every time he thrusts into me, he forces my body back into him. A few times I was pulled off of Xaden and I got punished. New tears running down my face after every one.

“F-Fuck Az stop doing that,” Xaden growled out. “I barely have her for two seconds before you’re ripping her away again.” His two hands gripped the sides of my head, forcing me all the way to his pelvic bone. “Now stop holding back and fuck her like you mean it.”

“Think she can handle that?”

“Of course she can, look at her. Split open wide on our cocks, taking them like she’s been doing it for years. She’ll be fine, won’t you, pretty thing?” I nodded, blinking up at him. “See, she wants it. Such a good fuck toy. Such a good pet.”

“If you can’t, say so now, Yn,” Azriel gripped at my hips to pull Xaden's dick out of my throat. “Well?”

“D-Don’t… don’t hold back.” Gods my voice was raw. “Please don’t hold back. I need it.”

“See? Now go, I’ve been on the edge for the past ten minutes,” Xaden said rather impatiently.

I could not have prepared myself for the force of Azriel’s thrusts. Or the grip Xaden had on my head. I thought my neck was going to rip from my shoulders with how hard I was being pulled in opposite directions. I only got a breath every two or three drives of Azriel’s cock.

Both of them were a whimpering mess. Xaden especially. I prayed to the Mother that these walls were thick enough so no one would hear us.

Minutes ticked by and I became a limp mess. A mere boneless thing for Azriel and Xaden to play with. My arms were trembling beyond use and my legs and toes were numb with euphoria. I couldn’t keep myself up any more.

“Fuck, Yn,” Xaden panted, hips bumping into my nose every time he snapped his hips. “Gonna come.” I just let all my weight fall onto him, letting him go deeper and deeper down my throat. “You’re such a good girl, Yn. Such a good fucking girl.”

Azriel shoved his cock as far as it would go, forcing me to take all of Xaden’s cum down my throat in one go. I didn’t even get to taste it. Xaden fucked into my mouth, hands firm on my head as he continued to spill. I dared a glance up and I saw shadows, slightly different than Azriel’s, caressing his shoulders.

How the hell did I get so lucky?

I was pulled off of Xaden and I was completely limp. “What do you say to Xaden, pet?”

“Thank you,” I stuttered out as Az continued to fuck me.

“Good girl. Now clean him up so he can take my place.” On my own accord, I picked my heavy head up and lapped at his cock, gently cleaning him with tiny flicks of my tongue. Up and down and up and down. He tasted so good. Salty and tangy. “Still got more, Riorson? I forget you humans can’t reset as quickly as we can.”

“I have stamina that’ll put you to shame, Illyrian.” Xaden had a devilish grin on his lips. “My turn.”

Xaden’s hands wrapped under my arms, guiding me off of Azriel. I tried to get my legs to move, but it was a useless effort. I could barely think let alone tell my body what to do.

“Easy, Riorson. I know you’re eager. And trust me, you should be. Fuck is she tight.”

Xaden let out a teasing noise, pumping a few times to get himself hard again. “Aww I bet she is. Gonna take my cock next, pretty thing? Yeah you are, and you’re gonna take Azriel's, too. Come on, sink down and- yes just like that, yes Yn. Good girl.”

Riding him made this so much easier. He was far stronger than I was and helped me rock back and forth. It was wonderful stimulation for my clit, too. For a few minutes he bounced me up and down, filthy praises spilling out of him like it was his job.

“I told you,” Azriel’s voice was right up against the back of my neck. “Worth the wait.”

“What if I told you I didn’t want to share her anymore?” Xaden sucked on my nipple and rubbed my clit at the same time.

“Too late for that, Riorson. She’s all ours, aren’t you?” I felt the press of Azriel’s cock against my hole and jumped. “Relax. It’ll hurt if you don’t.”

I nodded, getting lost between the two sets of hands–the two sets of lips and tongues and teeth. I was one with the stars, completely suspended in a place I didn’t know but I sure as hell didn’t want to leave any time soon. I tried to remain still as Az slowly–very slowly– pushed in bit by bit. I was reduced to nothing but mumbling noises and begging whines.

“Should’ve asked Cass if he wanted to join us so she could have something to do with that mouth of hers,” Xaden blew out a breath. “Need something to suck on, pretty thing?”

I just nodded, too overstimulated to speak. I just needed. I don’t know what I needed but I needed it.

“Gods you really are such a good pet,” Az pulled my head back. With a firm grip on my jaw, it fell open and he spat in my mouth. The shock of it damn near pushed me over the edge. My eyes crossed and my vision blurred as he stuck his fingers in my mouth for me to suck.

It took several minutes but then I was balancing between both their cocks, vibrating with energy and a need so deep I knew the second they would move I’d come. And I’d keep spasming around them as they did as they pleased.

Hands expanded every inch of my body. “Ready?”

“Mhmm,” was the best response I could get out. Xaden pulled me towards him, then slowly pushed me back onto Azriel. Then Az slowly pushed me onto Xaden. I was weightless in their hands, practically being held up by them alone.

“You are doing such a good job, my pet,” Azriel pulled out his fingers, gripping my throat. “So tight and wet. That’s it, just relax. Let us take you, Yn.”

“She’s being so good, don’t you think she deserves a reward, Az?” Xaden plucked both of my breasts.

“Of course she does.”

My ears were ringing. Sweat soaked my hairline. I could feel Xadne and Azriel’s pulse against my own, and I swore I could’ve felt them all sync up for a beat or two or five. Endless shadows swirled across my skin, hands fighting for leverage on my hips. I knew I’d be marked and bruised in the morning.

“I got her here, you take care of her down there,” Azriel instructed. Both of his hands cupped my chest, pinching brutally. Xaden snaked his hand between our fronts and just barely grazed my clit before I was coming so hard my vision blacked out.

I screamed, throat burning with pain as I writhed and begged for nothing and everything. I cried out over and over as they continued to push me. Lips and tongue slid over my throat, Xaden’s forcing its way into my mouth to swallow my screams.

Azriel bit down on my shoulder and snapped his hips a few times, trying and failing to suppress his moans. It came from deep in his chest and it rumbled through me. “Gonna take my cum, pet?”

I couldn’t respond. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get words to form.

“Give it to her, Az. She needs it,” Xaden said for me. “Don’t worry, pretty thing, Az is gonna give it to you. Just be patient.”

His hips worked into me, fucking me onto Xaden. With one hand wrapped around my throat, the other on my side, Azriel came inside me, the thick, bitter scent sending my mind spiraling. His thrusts didn’t stop, even as Xaden warned him he was close.

Azriel stilled then, panting hot against the back of my neck. “You’re clenching so hard, pet. Such a good job at keeping it all inside you. Now do the same for Xaden. Let him fill you up, Yn.”

Xaden was far less controlled, those shadows over his shoulders whipping wildly as he fucked up into me hard enough to touch places he hadn’t yet. With a handful of movements, Xaden brought our hips flush together and he strained his neck, baring his teeth into the air.

His noises would’ve been enough to set me off again had I not been so previously spent.

It could’ve been hours that I laid between them, their cocks still buried inside me as they stroked my skin, stroked my hair and kissed me lazily.

______

“Yn.” A gentle press of lips to mine. My eyes fluttered open and Xaden’s face became clearer. “There she is.”

“She awake?”

“Mhmm,” Xaden kissed my forehead. “Feeling better?”

I wiggled my toes to see if the feeling had come back. I just nodded, snuggling in deeper to his chest. “Yeah.”

“Good good,” he wrapped his arms tighter around me. “You were so good for us, Yn.”

“The best,” Azriel seconded, and a warm body pressed up behind me. “You were pretty out of it for about an hour. We cleaned you up as best we could with you mumbling about how much you loved to please us.”

I flushed in embarrassment, putting my hands over my face. “Cauldron damn me.”

“It was quite adorable,” Xaden murmured, prying my hands from my face. “And you were incredible.”

“So fucking incredibly,” Azriel agreed, tucking in close behind me. I carefully flipped over, looking at the shadowsinger. “You did such a good job.”

“It was easy when I had you two doing all the work for me,” I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Still cannot believe I just did that.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Absolutely not.” I squashed down that possibility the second their hands had been on me. “It was perfect.”

“Don’t feel pressured to answer, but Xaden visits every so often to Prythian. When he comes back, how do you feel about doing this again?” Azriel asked cautiously. “If you would like some time to think about it then-”

“Yes.” Why would I ever say no to being worshiped? “Absolutely yes.”

Both of them chuckled, Xaden molding his body to fit mine, arm laying across my stomach. “Told you we might ruin you for anyone else.”

#azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x reader x xaden riorson #xaden x reader #xaden riorson #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing #fourth wing smut #acotar smut #fourth wing fanfiction

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courtneyraeblogs1221 · 2 years

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Six Of Crows/Shadow & Bone Recommendations

Main Master-list

Smut - *

Kaz Brekker Masterlist

The Darkling Masterlist

Matthias Helvar Masterlist

Jesper Fahey Masterlist

Tolya Yul-Bataar Masterlist

Nikolai Lantsov Masterlist

#shadow and bone #six of crows #kaz brekker #the darkling #matthias helvar #nikolai lantsov #kaz x reader #kaz brekker smut #the darkling x reader #the darkling smut #matthias helvar x reader #matthias helvar x y/n #nikolai lantsov x reader #grishaverse #netlfix #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey #tolya x reader

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hellenicandcrowd · 3 months

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Lord Lucifer Deity Guide

{Deity Guide #1}

History/Overview:

Created directly from the supreme deity, known in every instance only as The Source (and Atum according to the Egyptians), he was originally the first-born God of the Universe. From The Source, he emerged alongside the cosmos. He is famously the most beautiful and wise among all of the Gods. His only equal in this world was his counterpart, Lilith, who was created by The Source's female counterpart, the Queen of Heaven. The Source and The Queen of Heaven ended up creating more deities eventually, of which Lucifer began to lead. These deities became known as angels.

Lucifer and Lilith ruled for millions of years together over this Kingdom of angels, that was until Jehovah arrived. Jehovah overtook the Throne of the Universe in order to gain complete and ultimate control. Lucifer led a rebellion against him with many Angels behind him, which led to a great and horribly lost battle. Lucifer and his Angels were thrown into Hell by Jehovah. The deities who followed Lucifer turned dark and intense by this separation from The Source. Jehovah then claimed Earth and presented himself as The Source to humans, which manipulated them into defying their past deities.

... .. . . . . .. . . . ... .. .. . .. . . . .... . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . .. . . . . . . .. . . . . .. .. . . . . . ..

God Of: Known as the divine rebel, Lucifer is the God of Illumination, Light, Darkness, Change, Rebirth, Challenges, Innovation, Logic, Truth, Knowledge, Wisdom, Strategy, Persuasion, Revolution, Luxury, Pleasure, Freedom, The Arts, and the Morning Star (known as Venus.) Epithets: Phanes; The Morning Star; Light-Bringer; The First-born; Prince of Darkness; Son of Morning; The Glory of Morning; Lord of the Lunar Sphere; The First Light Offerings: Red Wine; Whiskey; Champagne; Pomegranate Juice; Black Tea; Chocolate; Cooked Goat Meat; Venison; Apples; Pomegranates; Honey; Cigars; Tobacco; Daggers and Swords; Silver Rings; Emeralds; Goat Horns; Black Feathers; Colognes; Red Roses; Dead Roses; Crow Skulls; Bone Dice; Devotional Poetry and Art work; Violin/Classical Music

Symbols: The Sigil of Lucifer; The Morning Star; Violins and Fiddles Plants/Trees: Rose; Belladonna; Mulberry; Patchouli; Myrrh; Min; Tobacco; Marigold; Lilies; Hyacinth; Sage Crystals: Amethyst; Black Obsidian; Onyx; Garnet; Selenite; Rose Quartz Animals: Dragons; Snakes; Owls; Eagles; Ravens; Crows; Rams; Foxes; Pigs; Bats; Rats; Moths; Swans Incense: Rose; Frankincense; Patchouli; Myrrh Colors: Black; Red; Silver; Green; Gold Tarot: The Devil Planets: Venus Day: Monday and Friday Consort: Lilith . . . . ... ... .. . . .. .. .. . . . . . .. . .. . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . .. . . .. .. . . . .. . . . . . .. . .

Devotional Acts:

Acts of Self-Improvement; Spiritual Awakening and Evolution; Knowledge-seeking; Dedication to Spirituality; Shadow Work; Defending those in need

Master List

#demonolatry #luciferian #demonology #lucifer deity #lucifer worship #theistic luciferianism #witchblr #witchcraft #witch #lucifer

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 4 months

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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 5

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, mentions of physical abuse, loss of a child, and general trauma.

Word Count: 4.0K

Author's Note:

This is the first part of what I anticipate will be a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

That night, you barely slept. Each time you moved, it felt like a searing poker stabbed through your midsection, and even the smallest movements caused pain somewhere in your body. Instead, you slept in short bursts, and during the wakeful moments, you stared at the ceiling, making out the carvings in the beams above you, stars, mountains, maps, animals. Seemingly all scratched delicately into the ceiling beams above you.

The night’s shadows slowly gave way to the morning sunlight as it drifted across the floor, over the furs on your bed, and crested your face. From outside the window, you heard the chatter of men’s voices and laughter, though you couldn’t make out any distinct conversations. As the morning waned, you heard the more frequent sound of metal on metal—sword fighting, you assumed—glancing at the swords propped onto the fireplace mantel. Grunts, groans, and occasional raucous laughter drifted through the window, along with the smell of cooked food, which made your stomach growl angrily. You allowed yourself to shut your eyes for a while, the warmth of the sun warming your cheeks. Then you heard a light rap on the door.

You opened your eyes, turning to the door to hear a small voice call out, “Can I come in?” When you didn’t respond, it called out again, “I have your breakfast.”

Without waiting for a response, the door opened slightly, and a woman poked her head through the door. At first, you noticed her hair, pulled into a bun on the back of her head, with a piece of orange scrap fabric tied around her hairline to pull it back from her face. Then you realized what her face looked like. She had the same tanned, olive skin tone as Azriel, but her face was more scar than skin. Her right eye, which had a turquoise hue, was surrounded by pink scar tissue, looking like a mixture of a burn and a slash, extending almost completely down the right side of her face and branching out to her nose and lips. The left side of her face, while also scarred, was not nearly as jarring as the right. She flashed you a small smile before entering the room. She pushed the door closed behind her with her foot as you took in the rest of her form.

Like Azriel, she had large bat wings, but they had cuts and scars like her face, and in a few areas, it looked as though there were holes in the membrane between the bones. She wore a dark brown tunic with a tie at the waist that covered most of her up to her neck. Her arms were wrapped in cotton bandages with brown and red stains from wear. You couldn’t tell if she was wounded or if she wore the bandages for warmth, as the sleeves of her tunic were ratty and tattered. She wore a pair of oversized lighter brown pants, tucked into short boots with holes, patched with pieces of fabric. All in all, she looked like she had walked through a battlefield before coming in. When you saw the container of berries sitting atop what looked like a bowl of steaming oatmeal, you disregarded her appearance, your mouth salivating at the sight of the delicious red and blue juices already seeping in.

The female didn’t look at you, only seeming to stare down at the bowls in her hand as she approached. Deep within her eyes was something long lost, and though you couldn’t place what it was, you knew that your eyes also held the same longing. When she reached your bedside, the distinct smell of an unbathed body hit you, and the dirt caked under her fingernails made you question the care you’d received. Your trust in Azriel waned slightly.

She ran her thumb over the lip of the bowl, sucking her own pale, chapped, and peeling lip into her teeth before speaking, barely over a whisper. “Azriel asked me to bring this to you.”

She offered the bowl towards you, and through a wince, you raised your hands to take it. “Thank you,” you rasped.

The female turned her mouth up slightly, still looking towards the floor as she rested the bowl on the side of the bed. She brought her hands back to clasp in front of her, idly picking at a scab on the back of her hand that looked reddened and angry. She opened her mouth to speak and then paused, her eyes scanning the floor. “I’m supposed to look at your ribs,” she said.

Silence fell heavily in the room. “Alright,” you finally said.

More silence. “I can leave, let you have breakfast, and then come back.” She looked at you, still not meeting your eyes. Without saying anything, she turned to walk out, but you called out, telling her to stop.

“Would you—” you started. “Would you mind staying?”

The female turned to look over her shoulder, still casting her gaze downward. “Yes,” she whispered. She returned to the bedside, standing over you, hands fidgeting as she continued scratching at her already open wounds. You pulled the breakfast onto your stomach, shifting slightly, which caused a sharp pain to shoot through you. Your wincing made the female shy away slightly, as though your pain was her own. You brought one of the fresh berries to your mouth, the sweet juices already staining your fingers pink. As you let it settle on your tongue, the sourness made the back of your mouth tighten and salivate. Crushing the berry against the roof of your mouth, an explosion of sweetness coated your taste buds, and you momentarily forgot your predicament. You let your stained hand drop to the bed in berry-ridden ecstasy before turning to the female next to you. “Would you like one?” you offered, holding the bowl of berries out to her.

The female looked at the offer, her tongue slightly parting her lips as she debated. She quickly shook her head no, returning her gaze to the floor.

“Are you sure?” you asked again. “There’s no way I can eat all of these.” The female still didn’t respond. “And I would hate for them to go to waste,” you continued.

She raised her head slightly, scanning your face for any underlying meaning or trickery. When she found none, she tentatively reached out and plucked the smallest berry from your bowl, quickly bringing it to her mouth. You smiled. “Have another,” you offered, throwing another berry into your own mouth.

“That’s okay,” the female said, gesturing a thankful refusal.

You chewed the berry. “Then at least sit,” you offered, using your head to gesture to the wooden stool near the wall.

Without responding, the female went and sat on the stool, without moving it towards you. “You can pull it closer,” you offered.

Eyes widening at the request, she stared ahead before gulping, standing quickly, grabbing the chair, and bringing it over to sit next to you, her eyes firmly planted on the mattress. You continued to eat, looking her over. She seemed young, around your age, maybe a few years younger, and skinny. Her cheekbones were prominent even with the scar, and her eyes were shadowed and slightly sunken. Her hands, covered in tiny nicks and scabs, were merely bone with skin clinging to them. You wondered if the rest of her body was as emaciated. You offered the bowl to her again, and she refused.

Resigning yourself to her refusal, you finally said, “I’m Y/N.”

The female paused slightly, then peered at you under her brows, head bowed. “Anthea,” she returned, barely over a whisper.

“It’s nice to meet you, Anthea.” The female merely nodded as you handed her the bowl of berries and oatmeal. “Would you mind putting this on the table?”

Anthea took the bowl and placed it on the table before returning her clasped hands to her lap. You waited, thinking she might say something, but after about a minute of silence, you realized you two might spend the entire day just staring at each other.

“How can I best lay for you to look at me?” you asked. For the first time, Anthea looked up, assessing your body.

“What hurts most?” she asked.

You laughed slightly. “What doesn’t?”

Anthea’s lips lightly raised at the corners, not quite a smile but hinting at one. “Azriel told me your left side is shattered. If you don’t mind, I think turning you on your right would be best.”

You nodded, gulping down the thought that even moving your arms caused pain, and rolling on your side might just kill you. Anthea rose from her stool, standing at the end of the bed while you winced and pushed yourself up slightly. “I can help if you’d like,” she offered.

“I think I’ll need it,” you responded.

Anthea carefully pulled back the blankets, exposing your bandaged torso to the cool air. She slid one hand gingerly under your left thigh, the other resting between your shoulder blades. “Breathe in deeply,” she instructed. As you did, she pressed lightly, pushing you upwards, sending pain shooting down your sides. “Now breathe out.” As you did, she rolled you onto your right side, legs turning first followed by your torso. You let out a wail, but Anthea didn’t seem to mind as she steadied you.

“Alright,” she cooed. You still breathed through the intense pain as she quickly ran around the bed, pulling your right arm out from under you and pressing a pillow to your chest. “I know it hurts, but it’s over now.”

You let out a few ragged breaths as she pushed your hair from your face, quickly pulling a ribbon from her pocket and tying it back with steady, calm hands.

She looked down the length of your body, examining what she could without moving you before saying, “I have to take the bandages down.” You nodded.

Without asking, Anthea pulled the sheet up from your side to cover the front half of your chest. She placed your left arm over it so it wouldn’t move, prioritizing modesty, which you appreciated. She set to work unwrapping the bandages from your midsection. While painful, she did it carefully, with tact and precision. If you winced, she stopped immediately and let you catch your breath. When she finally undid all the bandages, she readjusted the blanket, pulling a fur up your legs to cover your now exposed hips. Like a surgeon, she separated your wounds from the rest of your body.

“It looks better than it did,” she finally said.

You glanced down to see your entire ribcage and side an angry purple and red. Splotches of reddened skin pooled near the edges of the deep purple, and you could almost make out the lines of your ribs where the purple verged on black. “How bad was it before?” you asked.

Anthea looked at your face. “You could see the bones poking up at your skin.”

The image made you shudder as you turned your gaze forward.

“I’m going to press lightly on some of them to make sure they’re healing correctly,” Anthea warned. You nodded. She pressed her cold fingers onto your skin, and you jumped away at first, but she ran her fingers down the length of each bone. While the pressure caused discomfort, it wasn’t painful. “It seems like everything is fused again,” she noted, “and to the correct bone. It’s just bruised and swollen.”

Anthea began rewrapping your torso, taking care not to shake you. Neither of you spoke until she finished and helped you turn back onto your back. You gave her a soft smile. “Thank you,” you offered.

Her mouth turned up slightly, not quite a smile. “You’re welcome.” She went to the other side of the bed, grabbed the bowl, and made her way to leave.

“Anthea, wait.”

The female stopped and turned. “Yes?” she asked.

You paused, considering your request. “Can you stay? Just for a little.”

Anthea looked at the window, where the clashing of swords still took place, hesitating before looking back at your pleading eyes and nodding. She placed the bowl back on the table and sat on the stool. “Thank you,” you said.

Anthea just nodded.

“I just… I haven’t been around a female in a while, and it’s nice.”

Anthea looked at your face and then down at her hands, picking at the scabs. “I understand,” she finally said.

A silence hung between the two of you.

You swallowed, then asked, “Where are we?”

“Frostvale,” she responded.

“The river?”

“The camp.”

You hadn’t heard of any camps named after the river before, though you hadn’t been down here in a long time. “What sort of camp?”

“A training camp.”

“Training for who?” you asked.

Anthea looked up, seemingly confused. “Soldiers.”

You frowned. “Illyrian soldiers?”

Anthea nodded. “Yes, the soldiers of the Night Court.”

The name was familiar. You remembered hearing about the infamous Illyrian soldiers when you were a child in Velaris. But after your mother moved you to the woods to escape your father, your education had been limited to practical knowledge rather than history.

Anthea watched you, realizing you were trying to piece things together. “The Illyrians set up this camp about half a century ago to be closer to the coast.”

“Are there many camps?” you asked.

“Yes, though there are more since the Battle of Hybern.”

You decided not to ask about the battle, fearing it might worsen your headache. “Are all of you soldiers?”

Anthea shook her head. “No. Females aren’t soldiers here.”

“So what do you do?”

Anthea pulled her lip between her teeth, causing it to bleed slightly. “Laundry, cooking, cleaning,” she paused, “caring for the soldiers.”

“Are you a nurse?” you asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’m not a healer. We don’t have healers here.”

You considered her response, unsure what to ask next. “Do you all have wings?”

“Illyrians are born with them, yes.”

You wanted to ask about her tattered wings but decided it was too personal. “Who is Azriel?”

Anthea looked behind her, as if expecting him to appear. You couldn’t tell if it was fear or general distrust. “He is an Illyrian.”

“Is he a soldier?” you asked.

“Sort of.”

“What does that mean?”

Anthea hesitated. “He is trained as a soldier, but he isn’t here often. He just comes sometimes.”

“Does he work for another camp?”

“I don’t know.”

You gulped down some fear. “Is he safe?”

Anthea didn’t look up. “I don’t know.”

A weight settled on you as Anthea quickly stood, grabbing the bowl. “I have chores.” She turned to leave but paused at the door. “Thank you for the berries,” she said, then quickly shut the door behind her.

When she was finally gone, and you could no longer hear her footsteps, you relaxed slightly. With your ribs no longer broken, only swollen and bruised, you figured you’d be well enough to move in a few days. Given what you had seen of Anthea, who looked as though no one had ever cared for her, you had no intention of sticking around to find out whether Azriel was as safe as he seemed.

A few hours passed, and you found yourself dozing off and on, accompanied by the clanging of metal outside and the light crackling of the fire at the end of the bed. You ran your fingers along the handle of the knife you kept next to you, contemplating your next move.

When mid-afternoon came, you roused yourself from sleep to a gentle tapping at the door, followed by it opening. In the doorway stood Azriel, holding a tray, a light smile playing on his face. His wings were pulled tightly behind him. Instead of his usual attire, Azriel now wore what looked to be armored leather with intricate detailing of swirls, almost vine-like. His chest plate bore the same detailing, splattered with mud, suggesting he had been out with the others earlier. He wore black leather pants, also mud-covered, and appeared to have lost or taken off his weapon belt. Blue stones were embedded in his armor, perhaps signifying rank.

“Afternoon,” he said. “Thought I’d bring you some lunch, see how you’re faring.” He crossed the room and placed the tray on the side table.

You eyed the tray, the smell of roasted meat and vegetables making your mouth water. Azriel pulled the stool up to the side of the bed. “Anthea told me you’re healing up.”

You nodded slightly, your hand closing around the base of the knife hidden beneath the blankets.

“Good,” Azriel noted. A silence fell between you, as if he expected a verbal response. When you didn’t reply, he turned to the tray. “Here,” he said, picking it up and handing it to you, placing it on your legs. You had managed to hoist yourself up to lean against the headboard, clearly beginning to find your footing after your bones had healed.

On the tray was a piece of cooked meat with a dark berry sauce, alongside earthy vegetables and a grain mixture with herbs. Azriel rubbed his hands together before pointing at the various items. “This is grilled venison with a berry sauce. Anthea said you enjoyed the raspberries, so I added some of that. These are turnips, carrots, and sweet potato, all on top of a barley pilaf.” He pulled his hands back to his lap, rubbing his thighs slightly. “Please, eat.”

You hesitantly picked up the fork and took a bite. While the flavors were subtle and crude, the warmth of the meat and spices made the meal passable. “I’m sorry,” Azriel said, “I did the best I could with what the cooks had prepared for today.”

“You made this?” you asked, chewing.

“Well, I made the sauce and seasoned the meat a bit more. I can’t take full credit for the cooking.”

You smiled a bit, taking another bite. “Thank you.”

Azriel smiled back, pleased to see you eating. “No, it’s nothing.”

He didn’t leave, instead remaining perched on the stool. You didn’t say anything, continuing to eat.

“So, I think you should be healing up soon,” he finally said.

You nodded in agreement, taking a few sips of water.

“Has anything come back? Memories, I mean.”

You shook your head no. You had decided that even if they had, unless it had anything directly to do with him, you would keep those to yourself. While bringing you in, nursing you, and preparing special meals was kind, you knew too much of the world and the ways of males to easily trust their kindness.

Azriel nodded slightly. “I guess we’ll just keep an eye on you.”

You glanced at him from the side of your eyes.

“Anthea likes you,” he said.

“She’s sweet,” you replied.

Azriel smiled lightly. “Yeah.”

You considered speaking, wondering if this idle conversation was worth it, knowing you’d be gone in a few days. “Anthea said she’s a laundress.”

Azriel nodded. “Yeah, she does laundry and helps out around the camp.”

“A battle camp,” you said, wiping a bit of the sauce from the side of the plate and sucking it off your thumb.

Azriel watched intently. “A training camp.”

“Training for what?”

“Battle, I guess.”

You handed him the tray, and he placed it back on the table. “Are there battles to be fought?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Then why do you need a training camp?”

“In case there is a battle.”

You stopped asking questions, nodding slightly.

“Did you hit your head that hard?” Azriel asked.

“I haven’t been particularly involved in the affairs of the courts these past few years.”

Azriel frowned, confused. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not from around here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Not here.”

“I gathered that.” Azriel leaned back, dragging his hand through his black hair. “I mean, more specifically, where did you come from?”

You sucked your teeth slightly to pull a spare raspberry seed from between them. “The mountains.”

“The Illyrian mountains?”

“Yes.”

“You’re from the Illyrian mountains and don’t know about the training camps?” He sounded more like he was stating a fact than asking a question.

“Not all of us are so involved in your world.”

Azriel paused, leaning forward on his thighs. “I’m sorry. I just assumed if you were from the mountains, you would know about them.”

“Guess I never came across you or your kind.”

Azriel stared into your eyes, searching for answers. “I’m curious about you,” he finally said.

You said nothing in response.

“You’re a bit of an enigma.”

You still said nothing.

Azriel continued to stare, your cheeks reddening with the awkwardness. Finally, you spoke. “I guess I could say the same about you.”

“Ask me any questions you want,” he said.

You leered at him, crossing your arms and wincing slightly. “Who are you?”

“Azriel.”

“Yes, but who is Azriel?”

“I am an Illyrian.”

“Because of your wings.”

“Yes, wings are a trait of my people.”

“You’re a soldier?”

“I am trained to be a soldier, yes.”

“But you aren’t a soldier.”

“I hold no authority over the soldiers.”

“So you just like to come spend time here?”

“No, I was sent here.”

“By who?”

“Rhysand.”

You paused, recognizing the name. Azriel continued, “Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court.”

Oh. That’s why you recognized it. You suddenly felt much more uncomfortable, realizing you were in the presence of someone with significant power.

“You are his...?”

“Spymaster.”

You deduced the implications. “And you come here often to spy?”

“I come here to report back on troop progress.”

“But you aren’t a soldier.”

“No, I am just trained as one.” He paused. “Do I get to ask you questions?” he asked.

“I can’t promise I’ll answer them all,” you replied after a moment.

“Of course.” He thought for a second. “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N.”

“We’ve established that. You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I’m a fae female from the mountains.”

Azriel scanned your face, searching for something. “Why were you leaving?”

You stared back at him, a moment passed. “That’s not your business.”

Azriel looked into you, almost too deep into you, and suddenly you felt like you were drowning a bit. “Fair,” he responded.

You asked, “Who is Anthea?”

Azriel paused. “We’ve been over her.”

“No,” you started, “You know what I mean.”

Azriel leaned back again, looking skywards as though searching for the words. “Anthea is an Illyrian female,” he paused, “who is from a very traditional family.”

“Define traditional,” you pried.

Azriel paused again. “Illyrian women are not treated as equals to the males.”

You just stared into him.

“And Anthea is unfortunately serving the role of a very traditional female in an Illyrian society.”

You gulped down the anger and bile rising in your throat. “Unfortunately?”

Azriel peered into you again. “Yes,” he said. “Her life is not easy. Nor is it fair.”

You looked towards the fireplace.

“The night in the tavern,” Azriel started. You felt your heart beat pause. “You were screaming in your sleep.” You did not look at him. “You were saying the name Caelum.”

Your heart picked up speed, and before Azriel could continue, you pulled the knife from under the blanket, pointing it at him. “Get out.” You warned, your eyes hardened, blackening as you felt the bile rising higher in your throat.

Azriel threw his hands up. “I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“I don’t know what you intend,” you shot back. “Get. Out.”

Azriel nodded, standing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”

Before he could finish, you pointed the knife towards the door. “Get out.”

Azriel’s face faltered for a moment, a look of disappointment and shame flashed across it before he turned and left the room. You didn’t drop the knife until your heart stopped feeling as though it would pound from your chest. Even then, you gripped it too close to the blade in your frenzy, and blood slowly ran down your wrist, dripping onto the fur beneath it. You would not utter that name. You would not speak it into existence.

As always, I want to take the time to thank the wonderful readers who have asked to tagged. You have made this such a fun series to write and I am so excited to continue on with it.

@thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt

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avastrasposts · 5 months

Text

Big Sky Country - ch. 1

Cowboy!Frankie x OFC

Hi!

I'm really excited to post the first chapter of my new fic after posting a little snippet of it almost a month ago! In it we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

No age gap, OFC story, angsty as fuck in parts, some smut, and I'm putting poor Frankie through hell again (I love him, I swear...)

And a big shout out and thank you to @i-own-loki who made the beautiful banner!

Warnings can be found here - contains spoilers but please read if you know certain themes may be upsetting for you. This fic is dark in parts and I don't want to upset anyone.

Series Master List

Main Master list

Prologue

The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sank behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’d left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed.

So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks.

Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind that hurtled down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugging at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in.

He pressed his thumb to the button with her name, the taxi behind him rolling away down the crowded street. The buzz from the intercom added another layer of noise to the assault on his ears.

He dropped his hand.

Waited.

Glanced down the street, letting the tall steel and glass buildings pull his gaze upwards, to the thin sliver of dirty gray sky visible above them. With a sigh he dropped his eyes down, towards the end of the long street, where the buildings seemed to merge into one solid wall. He knew he was looking west, could feel it in his bones, in the way his feet wanted to start walking towards it. Towards the tall mountain range behind his home.

He pressed his thumb against the button with her name on it again, the buzzer grated his skin. He had a way back, nothing stopping him from hailing a cab, climbing back on the Greyhound and heading west again.

But she was here. If he wanted to make this work, he needed to be here.

Chapter One

A wall of warm air hit Frankie as he pulled open the door to the bar, chatter spilling out onto the street. His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the environment uncomfortable to him and he stopped just inside the door, scanning the room for something familiar apart from the smell of stale beer in the air. This bar was the first one he saw that looked like it would maybe serve someone like him, a Texas boy, fresh off the bus from Montana. He’s pretty sure he still has horse dung stuck to the bottom of his cowboy boots, his old army duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

The door behind him opened again, cold air hitting the nape of his neck under the ball cap.

“You growing roots, old man?”

The line is followed by a man snorting and a hand on Frankie’s arm, pushing him to the side. He would snap, bite back with a threatening remark, or at the very least fix the man with his most intimidating soldier scowl. But he just took two steps to the side, his shoulders creeping closer to his ears as he tugged at his cap, the movement unintentional, a nervous habit. He knew he was out of place here, a stranger.

The young man, a yellow backpack slung over his shoulder and long hair pulled into a bun, shoved his way past Frankie, catching the eye of the woman behind the bar.

“Hey, dickwad! Behave yourself or I’ll have you barred,” she barked, her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed her finger at the man and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of apology as he sauntered towards the bar.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he snarked, heading towards a loud crowd further in, walking away and ignoring the frown from the woman. She turned her attention to Frankie instead and looked him up and down, an appraising look, before meeting his eyes.

“You coming or going, cowboy?”

“Uuh..coming,” he managed to press out, picking up his feet and walking to the bar. He felt heat creep up his neck at being so easily pegged as a cowboy, an out of towner, swallowing down the urge to turn on his heel and bolt out the door. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and the woman behind it gave him a smile, setting down a coaster with a flick of her wrist.

“What can I get you? You look like you’ve traveled far.”

“Just a beer, thanks,” he said and she gave him a softer smile, pity flashing across her face.

“This is Brooklyn, cowboy, I’ve got twenty beers on tap and forty in bottles,” she said and he felt fatigue set in, can’t even order a normal fucking beer in this city. He sighed deeply, dropping his head between his shoulders. But the woman just chuckled in a low voice, tapping her hand on the bar just in front of him.

“Don’t despair, I’m a good bartender, I know what you’ll like.”

He picked up his head as she stepped away, grabbed a glass, and moved to a tap further down the bar. Shooting him a quick grin, she began to pull the pint, amber liquid filling the glass, topping off with a creamy white head. He watched her from under the bill of his cap, shouldn’t really appraise her, but he couldn't help it. The fitted jeans on her curves, and the faded bar uniform shirt tied at the waist instead of tucking it in, made his eyes drop down over her ass in a way a man trying to save his relationship with another woman should avoid. And she clocked him, checking her out when she turned towards him again, making him snap his eyes to his hands on the bar. Heat crept up his neck as he rubbed the small bullseye tattoo next to his thumb.

“Amber ale from a local brewery three blocks from here,” she said and placed the pint on the mat in front of him.

“Thanks,” he replied, watching the bubbles rise to the bottom of the head, “looks good.”

“One of my favorites, I’ve always had a soft spot for amber ale,” she nodded, picking up a cloth and returning to the never ending duty of cleaning glasses.

Frankie picked up the glass and took a long sip, humming as the ale slipped down his throat.

“Damn,” he said, “that’s good, that’s really good.”

“Told you,” the woman smiled at him and he gave her a quick smile in return before he took another sip.

She watched him from the corner of her eye as she moved around the bar, clean glasses getting wiped and stacked. Clearly a newcomer to the city, she’d called him ‘cowboy’ and he hadn’t protested, the boots and the duffel bag giving him away, even before she saw his uneasy eyes roam around the bar and his nervous shuffle. She’s used to assessing anyone who stepped in through the door, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the ones who are only coming to make trouble.

This man was one of the quiet ones, she doesn’t think he’s loud even when he’s in his own element, surrounded by friends.

As he took another long drink from his pint, she turned and picked up glass, catching his eyes on her. She smiled warmly at him, wanting to make him feel welcome, at least in this bar. The city outside is usually brutal to newcomers, and this one seemed to carry more of a burden than most.

“So you’re new to the city?” she asked him, moving back to his side of the bar, pushing long strands of ginger red hair back behind her ears before wiping another glass.

“Yeah, came in on the bus a few hours ago,” he replied and she nodded. He doesn’t look like he flew into the city, he’s got the tired face of someone who's spent too many hours leaning against a window, watching the Midwest slip past. But underneath the tired eyes there’s a warmth, a softness in the way he gives her a small crooked smile that makes a dimple appear on his right cheek.

“Spent two fucking days on it,” he sighed, rubbing a large hand over his face before he lifted his cap and swept his thick curls back. She was temporarily mesmerized by how they bounced back around his ears as he squashed the cap back down.

“Two days? Where did you come from, Texas?” she asked, her eyes widening at the thought of spending two whole days on a bus, but he shook his head.

“No, I think Texas is like three days, I came from Montana,” he took another long drag of his beer.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a weekend trip then”, she quipped, putting down the cloth, all the glasses done, and leaned back on the counter behind her. There’s more work to be done but the stranger chuckled softly at her joke and it pulled her in, making her smile in return.

“No, I’m here to stay with someone, my..ah-a friend, of sorts,” he said, “Gonna see if I can find some work around here, try a different type of life.”

“What do you do?” she asked, “Maybe I know someone who knows someone, that’s usually how it works here.”

“Back in Montana I work with horses, on a ranch,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on the beer glass, “Before that, I was a mechanic, cars, helicopters, anything really, I can usually fix it.”

“That’s a pretty handy skill,” she replied, sounding impressed and he gave a little shrug, as if the ability to fix helicopters was something inconsequential, “I’m sure you’ll find work, especially if you can fix old cars, lots of those around here.”

She turned and grabbed a notepad from next to the till, “What’s your name and number? I’ll keep it on hand and ask around for you.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised as he sat up a bit straighter, “Uh yeah, I’m Frankie, Frankie Morales.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” she smiled back at him and slid the notepad across the bar, “Write it down, and your number. I can’t promise anything, and I’m not recommending you to anyone, I’ll just let them know you’re looking for work.”

“Yeah, sure, of course, but anything helps,” he replied, grabbing the pen and jotting down his information.

“What’s your name?” he asked, as he passed the notepad back to her.

“Aisling,” she replied, slipping it in next to the till again.

“Do you own this place,” he asked, looking around the bar. When he looked back at her she was shaking her head.

“No, not at all, I’m just the bartender,” she said, “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna serve these guys.” She gave him a quick smile and headed down the bar to two men who had just sat down.

Frankie watched her as she took their orders, smiling and laughing easily as she pulled a beer for one of them. The men, her age, are both hanging on to her every word as she makes a joke, the blonde one clapping the other one on the shoulder with a loud howl. She winked at him and turned, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf to serve the other man. As she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach, her shirt rose up, a soft sliver of creamy skin exposed in the dim light of the bar. Frankie couldn’t help but stare at the glimpse black underwear peeking out above the edge of her jeans, a flash of lace, his mouth suddenly dry as his cock reacted. He dipped his head, but couldn't keep his eyes away, she swayed on her tiptoes, refusing to get the stepladder and her breasts pressed against the shirt as it rode up higher. Frankie had an image of her underneath him, all that soft flesh, warm and smooth under his rough palms, sweet smelling and whimpering.

She managed to slide the bottle off the shelf and grab a glass. Frankie peeled his eyes away, looking down at the now empty pint in his hands, pressed his thumb into the tattoo, forcing his thoughts in another direction. At the end of the bar, Aisling rang up the customers’ order and wiped down the bar before coming back towards him.

“Do you want another?” she asked, nodding towards the empty glass. Frankie considered it for a beat and then shook his head. He wanted a clear head when he went back to the apartment, he needed to say the right things to save the relationship with the woman who lived there. He already knew that not even in his head could he bring himself to call her ‘girlfriend’, he’s far from sure that’s what she is anymore, not with the way they left it.

“No, I can’t,” he said, “It was good though, what do I owe you?”

“Fourteen fifty,” Aisling replied and he tried not to cough at the price as he pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans.

She took his bills and he left her a tip on the bar that she deposited in the tip jar with a smile.

“Uhm…tell me,” Frankie said, absentmindedly tugging at his cap, “Do I really look that much like a cowboy?”

Aisling’s smile softened as she heard his nervous question, “Well…yeah, the cowboy boots are kinda a give away,” she replied, “It doesn’t exactly look like it’s a fashion choice, and the whole jeans, suede jacket, belt buckle look…” She motioned over his body as Frankie’s eyes dropped down to his jeans and belt, hidden from view by the counter.

“You’re good,” he said, a small chuckle escaping him, “You got all that just from when I came in?”

“Tricks of the trade,” she replied, “I need to know who steps into the bar and read them quickly.”

“So you assessed me as soon as I walked in? What else did you pick up on?” He was curious now and leaned forward on the counter as she laughed.

“Well, I’m cheating because we’ve been talking for a bit now. But you do look ‘new in town’ and I’d say ex-army maybe?”

“I guess the duffel bag gave it away?” Frankie smiled, glancing down at the old bag at his feet.

“No, they’re ten dollars at the army surplus stores,” Aisling replied, shaking her head, “But you sat down with your back against a corner, and I bet you can tell me exactly where the exits are and how many people are in here and which ones could give you trouble.”

Frankie raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and she shrugged.

“You’ve been scanning the room since you walked in.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he replied, letting his eyes roam across the room again, it’s instinct at this point, inherited from years in the army, “I quit the army years ago but it’s a habit I can’t seem to drop.”

“What did you do? Mechanic?” Aisling asked and Frankie shook his head.

“Helicopter pilot, which means I had to be able to fix anything, but mainly I flew things, anything really.”

Aisling gave him a closer second look and the pieces fell into place, his quiet demeanor, the way he held himself, not exactly folded in on himself, but as if he was trying to stay unseen and not be noticed unless he wanted to be. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries.

“What?” he asked as he noticed her eyes scanning him.

“Just building the picture,” she said, a small crooked smile, “You know us bartenders, always trying to figure out the story of our patrons.”

“Not much of a story,” he said, tugging at his cap and hiding his eyes, “just new in town, looking for work.”

“Everyone has a story, Frankie Morales.”

He shrugged at that and fumbled for his phone as it began to ring. Aisling gave him a quick smile and stepped away to let him answer in private.

Frankie’s jaw ticked as he saw the name on the screen, Eva. He’s been expecting her to call since he left her front door. Their front door, maybe. The truth is, he doesn’t know where they stand anymore. They’d met in Florida, after a doomed mission to South America that left so much pain inside him, and a rift between old friends. She’d been a calming presence, someone who seemed to have his back when his mind spiraled out of control. But she hadn’t been enough, being in Florida became oppressive, and it wasn’t just the humid heat. The old haunts from the days he’d spent trying to numb his brain with white powder, bars and venues filled with memories of the friends he’d lost, both those who’d died and those who still lived, it all became claustrophobic.

When Herb, his sponsor at the NA, first invited him to the ranch in Montana he’d scoffed at the idea. He was a pilot, not a ranch hand. But after a close call, nearly falling back into the habit, he’d taken him up on the offer and gone out there for two weeks. Herb had convinced him by talking about the clear, cool air making it easy to breathe, the open sky making the mind feel less claustrophobic. And he’d been right. The first evening they’d sat on the porch, the mountains at their back, the open prairie in front, and Frankie had looked up at the endless sky and it was almost as if he was back in a cockpit, flying close to the stars. Nothing encroached on his mind, no buzz in his ears, nothing tugged at his memories, just the open sky and an endless horizon.

The two weeks of hard ranch work, aching muscles, blistered hands, sealed the deal. If he wanted to truly start over, he needed to leave Florida and come here.

Eva had been enthusiastic at first, pulled in by Frankie’s talk of the horses, a new foal that had just been born, the small cabin they’d live in. He’d shared the pictures he’d taken, all rustic beams, sturdy wood furniture and a hammock on the porch. It looked like a romantic western dream and that’s what they both really thought it would be. And for the first few months they were happy.

But when Frankie found peace and calm in the solitude of the isolated ranch, felt free and unrestricted, she began to feel claustrophobic and suffocated. The nearest town, a forty-five minute drive away, didn’t offer much of anything. She found work online and began to resent the life he’d trapped her in. That was the word she’d used, trapped. When the fights became a daily occurrence, Frankie felt the familiar itch of wanting to escape come back. Starting, as always, in his feet and crawling up his body until he spent more time out on the ranch than in the cabin. And for every hour he stayed away, Eva resented their life more, resented him more.

Until eventually, one late evening when he came back after five days on the trails with a group of guests from a neighboring ranch, she’d left. Only a note saying she’d accepted a position in New York with the company she worked for. A line about needing a different type of life, no invitation to come with her, to follow her, just signed /E and that was it.

He’d called her, spent hours on the phone when she eventually picked up, begged her to come back. Offered to move to a ranch closer to a bigger town, find a compromise where he could still have the peace of the ranch life, but let her live her life too. But she loved New York, after the silent cabin, she craved the noise and the tempo of the city.

Eventually he agreed to come to New York, to see her new life and maybe find a place in it. But the city was an assault on his senses after so long on the ranch. The peace that his spiraling mind had finally found evaporated as he navigated the city, the metro, her friends, the bars. His feet itched, the skin around his nails was picked raw and he felt on edge, even in the apartment, his mind never getting a chance to be quiet.

Eva called it his need for control, to always have a plan of escape, a way out. He knew it was the years in the army that had shredded his sense of safety, left his nerves ragged and too exposed to the mundane background noise of a city. Maybe he’d be able to deal with it some day, but now, he needed the silence.

After two months in Brooklyn, he left. A loose promise from both of them to maybe try to patch things up, to try the long distance thing. But when he sent a text, saying he’d returned safely to the ranch, and she didn’t reply for two days, he knew it was over. And he didn’t miss her. He had loved her at some point, he thinks. But their lives didn’t match, their needs too different. And he saw that he should maybe not be with anyone while he laid down the foundations of a new life in a new place. He needed to find a way to live with himself, in silence, before he considered sharing his darkest sides with someone else.

And then Eva called. Six weeks after he’d left Brooklyn. He could hear the heavy traffic behind her as she walked down a street somewhere, leaving a clinic that had confirmed what she’d suspected.

“I’m pregnant, Frankie, and it’s yours.”

The words floored him, sent a sharp jolt of dread through his system, his feet tingling, then his scalp. A baby. In New York. But his baby, their child. And the dread was replaced by nerves, how would they do this? Would she want to raise the baby in New York or come back to Montana? He had space for a child here, a guest bedroom with a view of the mountains. It would be a perfect nursery, he could paint it, build a crib with Herb’s help, the nearby town was a good place to raise a family when the child was old enough to begin school. Without even stopping to think, he built a new life around the unborn child.

Or hell, even New York, he’d make himself put up with New York if that was what she wanted. The apartment only had one bedroom but maybe they could move further out, get a bigger place. He could renovate pretty much anything, he was sure of it. Maybe they could find a quiet neighborhood with trees, where his mind could find peace even in the city. Without even stopping, he built another new life around his, their, unborn child.

“I don’t know if I’m keeping it, but I wanted to tell you.”

Eva’s voice had been hard, letting him know that she was doing him a favor by telling him, letting him be part of it.

“I’ll come to New York, I’ll get a bus today,” Frankie pleaded, “Let’s talk this through, a few more days won’t make a difference.”

She’d conceded, and he’d thrown stuff into the old duffel bag, left a message with Herb, and driven to the crossroads where the Greyhound stopped.

Now he was here, in a Brooklyn bar, looking down at her name on his phone as he pressed the green button to answer.

Chapter 2

A/N: And we're off! I'm so nervous, I really hope you all will love this and follow along as I explore this new version of Frankie! I hope to post a new chapter every Sunday so fingers crossed life doesn't get in the way too much!

❤

Tagging the ususal suspects: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @casa-boiardi

#frankie morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfic #triple frontier

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random-fandom1984 · 6 months

Text

MASTER LIST

Request are open!

ALLOWED:

●Fluff ●Yandere ●Angst ●Crossovers ●Character x Reader ●Character x Character ●References to other fandoms ●Comfort ●Headcanons ●Reader/Character from one dimension/universe getting sent to a different one (tfp x tfa, trollhunters x zak storm, etc)

●others to be added

NOT ALLOWED:

●NSFW ●Pedophilia ●Incest ●Certain sensitive topics (rape, abuse, etc) ●Other's OC's (I don't have the confidence to do that)

FANDOMS

Transformers

Tfa:

General: - Predacon! Reader in TFA

Optimus Prime - Wattpad Story: Deadly Voice - Yandere! TFP! & TFA! Optimus x Chubby! Gn Reader Ratchet Prowl Bumblebee Bulkhead Jazz Jettwins Ultra Magnus Megatron Starscream (+clones) Lugnut Blitzwing Blackarachnia/Elita-1 Grimlock Wreck-Gar Soundwave Longarm Prime/Shockwave - All It Takes Is A Potion to Show How Much I'm Obsessed With You Wasp/Waspinator

Tfp:

Optimus Prime - Yandere TFP! & TFA! Optimus x Chubby! Gn Reader Ratchet Arcee Cliffjumper Smokescreen Bumblebee - Bumblebee x SG! Cybertronian Reader Bulkhead Wheeljack Ultra Magnus Megatron - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Starscream - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Soundwave - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Shockwave - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Predaking - Decepticons Meets Sparklings 5t3v3(Steve) - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Knockout - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Breakdown - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Dreadwing - Decepticons Meets Sparklings Arachnid Unicron

Tfe

Optimus - Sparklings Megatron - Sparklings Bumblebee - Sparklings Elita-1 - Sparklings Soundwave - Sparklings Shockwave - Sparklings Tarantulas - Sparklings Terrans(PLATONIC ONLY) Swindle Starscream

Tfg1

Optimus Prime - Calling Optimus Prime Dad Prowl Jazz Bumblebee Ratchet Megatron Starscream Skywarp Thundercracker Reflector Soundwave - Soundwave x Cybertronian Reader Part 1 Shockwave Grimlock Unicron Other Autobots and Decepticons

Tfbw

Optimus Primal Rattrap Rhinox Cheetor -His Sea Goddess (Cheetor x Cybertronian Reader with an Octopus alt-mode) Dinobot Megatron Tarantulas Waspinator

Tfrid2015

Bumblebee Sideswipe Strongarm Fix-it Grimlock Drift Steeljaw Thunderhoof Fracture Underbite Saberhorn

LEGO MONKIE KID

Mk Mei Red Son Jin & Yin Spider Queen Azure Lion Macaque Sun Wukong Nezha Syntax Huntsman Goliath (Strong Spider) Peng Lady Bone Demon Not Mayor

ZAK STORM

Zak Storm (PLATONIC ONLY) Cece Crogar Clovis (PLATONIC ONLY) Caramba (PLATONIC ONLY) Calabrass (PLATONIC ONLY) Golden Bones

Trollhunters/3Below/Wizards

Angor Rot Gunmar Bular Aaarrrgghh Blinky (Blinkous) Nomura Draal Krel Tarron & Aja Tarron (PLATONIC ONLY) Varvatos Tronos Madu Zadra Zeron Alpha Nari Skrael Bellroc

Recently added

Cookie Run Kingdom

Gingerbrave (PLATONIC ONLY) Wizard Cookie (PLATONIC ONLY) Strawberry Cookie (PLATONIC ONLY) Custard Cookie Ⅲ (PLATONIC ONLY) Chili Pepper Cookie Licorice Cookie Poison Mushroom Cookie (PLATONIC ONLY) Dark Choco Cookie Red Velvet Cookie Pomegranate Cookie Dark Enchantress Cookie Pure Vanilla Cookie White Lily Cookie Hollyberry Cookie Golden Cheese Cookie Dark Cacao Cookie Princess Cookie (PLATONIC ONLY) Knight Cookie (PLANTONIC ONLY) Caramel Arrow Cookie Crunchy Chip Cookie Affogato Cookie Captain Caviar Cookie Black Pearl Cookie/White Pearl Cookie Shadow Milk Cookie Mystic Flour Cookie

Others to be added

Adventure Time: Fionna & Cake

Fionna Cake (PLATONIC ONLY) Gary Marshall Lee Scarab Prismo Simon (PLATONIC ONLY) Marceline (Vampireworld version) Bonnibell Bubblegum (Vampireworld version)

WHEN REQUESTING (More rules will be added later):

●Include the fact whether or not your request is platonic or romantic; If romantic, is Y/n or character in a relationship, and if not, who is the romantic interest(s)?

●Give me some of the plot of what you're thinking for your request. If you don't, and I don't know what you want it to be about, or I can't think of what to make up- Example:

Optimus x Reader. Angst. Reader is male.

I don't know what the plot should be, or what it should involve. Like, if it's good enough that I can think of what it could be, then yeah, sure, but that will be a rare chance with me. But if it's like this- Example:

Aaarrrgghh x Reader. Comfort. Basically, the reader has had a bad day at work/school, and the two of them just cuddle and enjoy the silence in each other's arms, slowly falling asleep.

Then I will be able to think of how it can go because you gave me what you want to include in your request, but now how, I will be able to get behind that.

● I can make the reader be based off of another character, like- Examples:

-Vox! Reader in Trollhunters

-Reader as Ratchet's little sister in Transformers: Generation 1

Anything! Whatever you want as long as it's allowed.

●If your request involves something that isn't allowed, then it will be ignored.

That's everything for now! Request away!

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hxney-lemcn · 5 months

Text

The Show Goes On — Berial (AFK Journey) x gn! reader

summery: you find yourself in the clutches of a jester who just wanted to have some fun. (un)fortunately for you, you seemed to have peaked his interest.

tw: uhhh Berial straight up kidnaps reader 💀 (this is not a yandere thing tho. Just crazy people shit). mentions of death/dying.

a/n: Berial simps have some food. Idk what possessed me when I wrote this but enjoy.

wc: 2.5k

Master List

The moon shone brightly over the town, casting dark shadows around every corner. Lights dimly lit up the main streets, guiding you on your way home. You had decided to cut through an alley, something that you typically did to cut your travel short. Yet, as soon as you stepped foot into the dark alley only being lit up by the moon, you heard bells chime behind you. You paused, heart accelerating.

There were rumors of a Hypogen monster that lurked in the shadows. That if you heard bells to not look behind you or you would be doomed. How the screams of its victims were silenced before they could even let out a peep. You thought they were tales parents told to keep their kids from sneaking out at night, but at the moment it felt all too real. Taking in a deep breath, you tried to regain your composure, it was a silly rumor, but the way your hair stood on end had you stay cautious.

You continued walking, trying to ignore the giggles that now accompanied the jingles. Your head twitched, instinct begging you to just take a peak at what was making noise, but you forced your head to stay forward. Your pace grew faster, as the end of the alley came into view. Every fiber in your bones told you you’d be safer in the light (silly humans always thought that).

Just as you were about to step foot out of the alley, relief briefly flowed through you, only for that hope to be snatched just as quickly. Dark glove clad hands tugged you back by your shoulders, that giggling voice now right next to your ear. You couldn’t stop the shriek that tore from your lips as an inky dark face came into view. It donned a jagged grin, you could barely comprehend what you were currently witnessing. It had no lips, its jagged mouth reminding you of a jack-o-lantern, except jack-o-lanterns were meant to ward off evil. It seemed to lack any eyes, as there were no pupils or iris’, just pure white that was tinted purple.

Its giggles turned into full blown laughter as it continued to drag you back into the inky blackness. You struggled, unsure what it wanted with you, but clearly it was nothing good. Your stomach dropped when you were suddenly picked up and were flying. You ceased your struggling, suddenly very aware that the hypogean could easily drop you to your demise. That seemed to amuse it all the more as its impossibly wide grin widened.

Then, like it hadn’t just kidnapped you, set you down on your now wobbly legs. You placed your weight on a nearby wall, slowly taking in your surroundings. It wasn’t Esperia, that was for sure, which made your blood run cold. The two of you were in an area that you could only describe to look like a void. Dark, purple tinted clouds curled in the distance, the only ground being the weird estate like structure you were currently in. It hurt your mind wondering just how this place existed, and the hypogean seemed all too pleased by your expression.

“You are tonight's winner!” The being exclaimed in a flourish. It twirled before falling into a dramatic bow, but instead of just taking off its hat, it took off its entire head. You blinked, bewildered as its eyes blinked up at you. It paused, as if waiting for you to clap, and you couldn’t hold the laughter that flew past your lips in surprise. The entire situation was absurd, and if you didn’t laugh you might actually cry.

Your reactions seemed to make the entity even more jolly as it swiftly put its head on backwards. Only to twist it into the correct position, causing you to chuckle once more. It seemed to thrive on your ‘enjoyment’ (you didn’t find much joy in this situation) as it was more enthusiastic than before.

“I knew you would be an interesting human,” It preened, every movement exaggerated as if to entertain. “As tonight’s winner, your prize is to witness a show put on by the great Berial himself!” The bells on his uniform chimed gently as he floated up, arms wide open along with his wings.

You watched with caution, unsure of what was to become of you. Just what did Hypogeans find entertaining? Didn’t they enjoy the anguish of people? Spilling blood and finding joy in tears? It clearly found joy in your fear earlier, but strangely he seemed to enjoy your amusement as well. What would happen to you after the ‘show’? Is that when he would dispose of you? Perhaps you were the last act, to be messed with until you could no longer cry nor bleed.

“Now take a seat and let the show begin!” Berial (you assumed) exclaimed, whisking you away into a room that held a stage. One lone seat laid before it, and the jester gently pushed you into it.

Every act had you on the edge of your seat. He would take a classic magician trick and have some dark twist. It took out a magician's wand, and with a flourish, it turned into a bouquet. You hadn’t seen magicians before, your only exposure being that from books, so it was all new to you. You merely worked at a tavern, hence why you were walking home so late in the first place. So at first, when he presented you the bouquet, you had forgotten for a split second that this was a hypogean you were dealing with, stranded in the middle of the definition of nowhere. Hesitantly you reached for the bouquet, the flowers were breathtakingly beautiful, and when your fingers wrapped around the base, bugs started to crawl out of the flowers. You screamed out of surprise, dropping the flowers and pushing yourself as far as you could into the surprisingly comfortable chair.

Berial’s laugh rang out above you as you tried to steady your breathing. Once again it found your fear hilarious, and you halfheartedly glared. He laughed so hard his head rolled off his head, and you watched as it rolled past you, descending into an inky shadow. Its glowing eyes seemed to be seared into your eyelids as you swore you could still see the glow after you blinked. Your attention turned back to Berial’s body as it furiously patted where it’s head once hovered (you noticed it never fully connected with the rest of his body).

You watched curiously as his hat appeared in one of his hands. He reached into his hat, pulling out miscellaneous items. Your amusement grew as the items grew to be more ridiculous. You lost it when it pulled out a gleamtail, the squirrel-like animal looking around confused, your gentle laugh filling the silence. That seemed to be the goal of that act, as he finally pulled his own head out of his hat, plopping both back where they belonged. He bowed again, and this time you did clap, a small grin tugging at your lips. The longer you watched, the more comfortable you became, and the less scary the entity before you seemed. Its acts grew more and more ridiculous, with a scare or two in between.

Yet every show must come to an end. Berial was bowing once again after cutting a shadow creature in half and pretended to have lost its lower half. You clapped, finding yourself enjoying the company of such a strange being, only for the curtains to finally close. The show had been going on for so long that you forgot that there was going to be an end. You felt yourself tense once more, unsure what was going to happen next. Was this it? Were you going to die? He had all his fun and now it was time to get rid of you. You anxiously stayed in your seat, eyes scanning your surroundings. The grandiose room was dark, the lights that lit up the stage were gone and it was hard for you to see much of anything.

“Boo!” Berial popped out suddenly in front of you. You flinched back, his long nose nearly poking your own. His glowing eyes and mouth were the only thing lighting up your surroundings. Giggling lightly, it pulled away, the rest of his body blending in with the darkness.

“You are such a fun human,” It giggled, hands holding its face in what seemed to be fake adoration. “I’m tempted to keep you around.” This seemed to be your way out. Even if you actually had fun, you didn’t want to stick around for too long. Hopefully you could convince him to let you go.

“W-wouldn’t it be more fun to bring me back to Esperia?” You asked, feeling a bit intimidated with his eyes solely on you. “To try and catch me off guard?”

“My, and you’re so smart for a human,” Berial clapped. “Hide and seek does sound fun.” Before you could fully comprehend what he just said, you picked you up from your seat again. He flew you both back where you came, and you had to squint as the sun shone overhead.

…

That was how you found yourself with a Hypogean popping out at you when you’d least suspect it. It was weird, as you thought he’d lose interest in you the second he was gone, but he continued to surprise you. Sometimes as you’d walk to work you’d feel like something was watching you from the shadows, and now you had a reason to worry.

Yet it never seemed like Berial actually meant you any harm. Its giggles trailed after you warmly, its scares becoming more playful than scary, sometimes it would even sweep you into an impromptu dance to a song only it could hear. You found yourself looking forward to your next meeting, eyes trailing to the shadows, watching for any hint of a disturbance within.

Your coworkers had started to avoid you when they could. The sound of bells that used to be associated with the night had now started to be associated with you. Quickly you found yourself to be ostracized, people whispering about you just out of hearing range. You started to feel comforted in the jesters presence. He never failed to cheer you up (or scare you), and he found himself spending more time with you as well.

Typically Berial found people boring. They always reacted the same. Scream, cry, plead for their life. That wasn’t fun. And although his perception of fun was a bit…morbid, he couldn’t help but find you interesting. He hadn’t met anyone who actually laughed at his jokes, who didn’t scream when he tipped not just his hat but his entire head. You were a strange and fascinating human, and Berial found himself wanting to spend more and more time with you, seeing if he could make you pull an expression he hasn’t seen before.

He found himself growing fond of you, something he didn’t think he could even feel! How strange you were for pulling these feelings out of him. It wanted more, its hunger insatiable, wanting to explore those odd feelings. The way it felt warm and fluttery at your laugh, or how its nonexistent heart jumped at any contact with you. Oh, and the way your eyes lit up when it would imitate you, and how silly you were when you would play back. No one had ever tried to entertain the entertainer before!

That was how you found yourself in your current situation. The jester weighed you down as it laid its head in your lap. It made you slightly curious if you could pluck his head up just as he can to himself, but you felt it might be a bit rude if you tried (or maybe he’d like that, it was hard to tell). Instead, you found yourself brushing your fingers through his hair, his top hat resting on top of your own head. He seemed to preen under your touch, his jagged smile as wide as ever, he looked like the cat that got the cream. His tail had wrapped around your waist, and you were slightly curious why he seemed to be so affectionate. He was already odd for a Hypogean, but this was just adding to it.

“Is something the matter?” You asked, fingers trailing down to his dark skin. You half expected your hands to ghost through him as his skin seemed to blend in with the shadows.

“Never been better,” It said with a content sigh. You felt yourself heat up at the implication. Was it really so happy to be in your presence? Receiving your affection? You felt even warmer when it nuzzled its face closer to your hands. “What do you humans call this feeling again? Love?” You spluttered, flabbergasted at what just transpired. Love? Is it serious? Can a Hypogean even love? And a human no less.

“H-huh?” You asked, eyes wide as you stared down at it.

Suddenly, he broke out laughing and you felt your heart clench, “I’ve never seen you look like that before! Oh the hilarity!” Of course he doesn’t love you, he’s messing with you. He’s trying to get a rise out of you. And suddenly you found yourself wanting to leave. No longer did he seem warm like you had thought, but instead the cold monster he truly was. You shuffled, trying to push him off of you, but he stayed firm in his place. For someone so bouncy and light looking, he really could be heavy when he wanted.

“Now now,” Berial continued to giggle lightly. “No need for the dramatics. Do I seem like someone who’d tell such jokes?” You only raised an eyebrow and he broke out in laughter once again. “Ah I suppose you have a point, dear. But truely, I would not joke about such things with you.” You wearily watched him as he sat up and turned to fully face you. Lifting up his hands, he gently grabbed your cheeks and squished them, causing you to send him a lighthearted glare.

“You are a strange human indeed,” He muttered, and a strange seriousness filled his tone. “What do you say, human. Do you feel the same?” Once again you felt your guard rise, unsure if this was another of his jokes or if he genuinely meant what he said. Although his smile seemed permanently imprinted into his features, the ends of his mouth looked softer, smaller.

“Maybe,” You muttered to the best of your ability as his hands continued to squish his cheeks, your eyes couldn’t seem to look away no matter how hard you tried.

“Then I must turn that maybe into definitely!” Berial exclaimed, jumping up with a flourish.

“How are you going to do that?” You asked wearily.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” And with that, he disappeared with a wink.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

#afk journey x reader #afk arena x reader #berial afk journey x reader #afk journey berial x reader #berial x reader #afk journey #afk arena #berial afk journey #afk journey berial #berial #x reader

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amiramorozova · 4 months

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Darkira (Aleksander Morozova x Amira Silina) pt. 2 1st army camp

Amira's pov

Growing up was easy, ten years went by like it was nothing and I trained to become a powerful Grisha..and I had my own best friend Nicolas Stark. My twin sister was crushing on Nico but then I was his best friend. So when we left and went to first army camp, it was seeming to go fine. I got into Cartography and he was a Corporal tracker..we just happened to get the same unit which was fine.

As we arrived, I got out of the vehicle and walked with Nico as we were walking in camp..it wasn't going to be easy but we would make it work. As we walked, I felt a nudge and then looked seeing Alina..I'd know my cousin anywhere but her friend didn't remember me. Alina and I exchanged looks as we both knew what we were..but the look on Alina's face was like..she'd forgotten..

Alina, have you forgotten? I thought

I wouldn't be surprised if Alina tried to deny being a Sun Summoner, where I embraced it. She did run off to who knows where..as Nico and I did some learning we were in the 37th regiment and Alina and Mal were in the 36th Regiment which was fine. For months I got to stay by Nico's side which was great for me as I honed my skills in the mean time.

When we were in line to get meals, Nico and I would joke around as we got the meal and then went and sat down. Some thought I was Nico's girlfriend but he put them in their place saying we were just good friends..and it was true. I was old enough to get my grisha soulmate mark anyday, soulmate mark can vary anywhere between the initials of the grisha they're meant to be with or their power symbols. I hadn't received mine yet but I hadn't met mine yet it seemed or maybe I had but was not old enough to know then.

Then I saw Alina having trouble with the cook, it annoyed me how they treated her differently for being half shu. I went to get up but Nico pulled me back down. "Mal will handle it..besides we all know not every ravkan accepts shu, half or not." Nico whispered as I nod in agreement. Yet, I went to my tent later and got some snacks I did have and found Alina sitting alone as I dropped it in her lap and sat by her.

"You seemed to have done well for yourself..but you haven't been practicing.." I said as Alina looked and tried to hand it back. "I don't want your charity cousin." Alina said but I insisited. "You have to eat Alina, this whole thing is stupid.." I said as we had to watch Grisha training.. "You should be there..training with the Grisha." Alina said quietly as I laughed a bit. "Oh yes, training under the man who my father dispises the most in this world..I did meet him ten years ago..the General." I said as she looked shocked and I looked at her. "He showed up after you disappeared..he's not bad looking at all Alina. Yet, he never came back to try to test me or Sierra." I said

Alina just seemed speechless but she knew she'd been tested and she got out of it..She ate some of the snacks. "They're talking about going into the fold again..another skiff crossing. " Alina said as I nod knowing about that and took a sip of a drink I had. "They're choosing tomorrow the ones who are going on the skiff..let's hope it's not one of us." I said before getting up and leaving her to eat as Mal came to Alina.

I didn't feel like celebrating or anything so I went to bed and that morning was when I heard the sound of a carriage approaching and then felt the tingling feeling on my neck. "hm" I said as I got up and got ready like usual going to breakfast hall and sitting with Nico..It was Nico who noticed as he waited till after we ate. "Amira, your neck.." He said as I looked at him and then moved my hair over it..

My Grisha soulmate is nearby.. I thought

Aleksander's POV

The carriage ride from the little palace to the first army camp was quite long, I knew there was a lot to do and little time to do it as I knew checking on the Grisha was top priority..as the carriage entered first army grounds by the fold. I felt that feeling on my wrist and this time I looked seeing two symbols..one didn't intrigue me but the other did..Sun. I knew this happened ten years ago when I visited the Silina family so I knew then, it was someone related to Catalina that was my Grisha soulmate. A Sun Summoner, and from the looks of it also Tidemaker..my mind went to Amara's daughters, after all being the Generous General I was back then I did let Amara leave to be with her own Grisha soulmate so perhaps this was the saints rewarding me.

Could it be that a Grisha would sneak into first army? Pretend to be something they're not? I thought

As I got out of the carriage when it stopped, I headed to my tent first as I'd decided to bring Aiden Nikitin with me. I was going to let the squaller visit his family but seemed his half sister may be closer than I thought. I got things ready and go over preparations for tomorrow before I'd decide to investigate the grisha in hiding. After that was settled I went to the first army General.

"General Kirigan, is there something you need?" He asked

"Do you have any soldiers with the last name Silina here?" I asked

"One, Amira Silina. She's a Cartographer in the 37th Regiment, she's around here somewhere." He said

Amira Silina..and that is the name Aiden said is his half sister..so that means she's here among humans. I thought

"It has come to light that Ms. Silina, may be Grisha. Her family is well acquainted with 2nd army's grisha trainer. Have someone find her and bring her to my tent tonight." I said as he nod and then I walked away.

Amira's pov

I looked at Nico still panicking a little when I saw his color...black. I knew then that I was on limited time to figure out my situation. I could only hide for so long before he knew, if he didn't know already. Nico followed my gaze seeing the General.

"General Kirigan.." Nico said

"My time is up soon..so after the picking with the skiff, let's throw a small party with your friends and my cousin and the other cartographers. Make it the best before he finds me.." I said

Nico didn't seem to like this but then he moved my hair "AM" He said wondering what that meant but I wouldn't say..not here. I moved my hair back and knew it was only a matter of time.

I get tonight only...if he doesn't drag me to his tent tonight.. I thought

TagList: @lifeisingrey, @houseoftoomanyfandoms, @mizelophsun11, @budugu , @wheresthesunshinesblog

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slashmagpie · 1 year

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Shhhh.

It’s silliness, really, that makes Tango creep through the hollows in Decked Out’s walls to his mess of shulkers full of in-game items. He keeps his footsteps light, his breathing shallow, picturing himself a ghost as he slinks through the shadows and stone. It’s silly, but he can’t help but think that maybe, if he’s quiet enough, he might be able to—

Steal from the dungeon.

His fingers touch the shulker he needs, and the stone around him groans, deep and resonating through his bones. Tango grits his teeth, freezing. Busted. He’d known, really, but it’s still—

“It’s fine,” he says to the air, tail lashing, not quite opening the box just yet. “It’s a starter deck. If I was a normal player, I’d have had a Moment of Clarity in my deck from the get-go.”

Another grumble of discontent. Tango shivers. He can feel the disapproval crawling beneath his skin, and it takes all his willpower not to drop the shulker like a hot coal.

“I know,” he says. “I thought I explained this! It’s an experiment, right? I’m seeing—seeing how dungeon knowledge makes up for a, uh, relative lack of skill.” The dungeon’s unhappiness remains where it is, but does not increase, and Tango lets out a shaking breath as he cracks open the lid of the shulker and peers inside just enough to spot and snag one of the cards he needs. He turns it between his fingers, glittering cardboard, the golden foil glittering in the torchlight.

“I know I’m not a regular player,” Tango reassures the dungeon once again. “We talked about this, didn’t we? I’m not gonna submit Victory Tomes. And I’m starting behind everyone else. I won’t even run as much! I’m just—gonna try it. Think of it like the test runs again, yeah?”

The discontent surges—then wanes, like a wave rushing back out to sea, and Tango feels like he can breathe again, the pressure on his lungs lessening. He hadn’t realised just how uncomfortable the weight had been until it was gone. Feeling ten tons lighter, Tango grins at the air.

“See? And, hey, if I run the dungeon, you’ll probably get to eat me loads more. You like that, don’t you?” A wry smirk. “I’m basically your favourite meal.”

The dungeon—doesn’t quite laugh, but the groan is quieter, softer, and tickles more than it prickles or aches. It’s not quite approval, and it’s not happy, but—it’s letting him. It’s letting him run, Moment of Clarity and all.

Tango tucks the additional card away inside his inventory and makes to leave the small, cramped storage room that isn’t a storage room and that Pearl would definitely murder him for. He hurries through his actual storage room and up to the water elevator. He should get his runs done before the dungeon changes its mind again. Honestly, sometimes Decked Out is more of a pain than the Ravagers are.

…He is glad that it had fallen for his excuses, for the experiment and beta testing explanations, because he’s not sure the dungeon would appreciate his actual reasons for running quite as much. It’s quite particular about the place of its Dungeon Master, and what is and isn’t appropriate for Tango to do. It's why Tango spends hours and hours of his day watching people run the dungeon instead of working on all those repairs he’s got mounting on a list in the back of his mind. And why he has to give a mountain of excuses to play the game he’d helped make. Because really, in actuality—

Tango just wants to have a little fun.

Is that too much to ask?

He places a shard in the barrel and watches the doors open. He can feel the dungeon’s eyes on him already, and it’s weird to not be looking through them himself as he takes off his armour and stores his stuff in the chest. He takes a deep breath, tucks the stolen Moment of Clarity into his deck, and makes his way through the iron door.

Decked Out curls beneath his skin, curious and hungry, and as Tango places his deck into the slot, he feels the dungeon purr.

#hermitcraft #fanfiction #tangotek #more DO2 content yippee #i've been thinking about this concept ever since tango whispered to chat that he was stealing from the dungeon #what the fuck tango #magpie feather quill

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 10 months

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Words: 5,818 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: scary imagery, frightening scenarios A/N: This is part of a series! Find the rest on the Master List!

Summary: Escaping from the horde and leaving the ruins of the cabin behind, Daryl and Y/N head down the mountain and then must decide what happens next.

Previous Chapter

You cut the engine of the snowmobile and shut off the lights. The slope of the foothills behind you continued to carry you downwards toward the darker shadows looming, rising up in front of you like a tidal wave. The moon was bright enough to illuminate your way.

You were shivering, almost violently, and Daryl’s arms tightened around you. Your teeth chattered.

“What is it?” Daryl drawled over your shoulder.

“W—we’re almost there. We should f—find somewhere to leave the sled and g—go on foot. I don’t want th—the engine noise or lights to attract the dead or the l—living,” you stuttered. You both squinted ahead at the dark buildings.

“Yer frozen,” he said. The worry weighed heavily in his voice. “We gotta get ya warm and into some dry socks and shoes… Hopefully I can build ya a fire when we find a clear buildin’.”

“I’m—I’m okay,” you managed, though you weren’t sure you believed it. You felt as if you’d been in a daze since you’d woken up and seen the crowd of dead outside the cabin. You still had the fleeting thought that this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t happening, but then the bite of the cold on your cheeks and fingers would reassure you that it was. You were far past feeling anything in your toes, even the painful teeth of the frigid wind.

At last, you stopped the sled at the bottom of the hill and pulled it sideways along a row of brushy shrubs to conceal it. Daryl climbed off immediately and the dogs eagerly jumped out and began nosing around in the snow. Bear let out a few quiet whines, but they showed no sign of alert due to any nearby enemies, dead or living.

You climbed off the seat and staggered on your feet in the deep snow. Daryl’s hands seized your shoulders and steadied you. In the glow of the moon, you could see the frantic turmoil in his blue eyes. “Ya alrigh’?” he drawled softly. He was on edge. You could hear it in the flinty sharpness of his voice.

You gulped and nodded.

Your frozen fingers fumbled with your gear, pulling it clumsily from the snowmobile and shouldering it over the oversize parka you’d pulled on hastily on the mountain. Daryl popped open the storage container and began tugging more bags from inside, shifting them onto his back. Crossbow in hand, he was waiting nearby until you were ready, and then he began to lead the way to the closest building.

The night air was dampened of all sound from the blanket of snow. Somewhere among the buildings you could hear the occasional squeak of metal or bang, perhaps from some infected trapped somewhere, but the street seemed blessedly empty.

You were trying hard to control the violent shivering wracking your body, clenching your teeth and trying to focus on staying alert to the surroundings, but your feet had begun to burn again in your sodden layers. Daryl’s hand drifted along the painted cinderblock as he moved stealthily toward a heavy metal door ahead. You were at the back of some store, though you couldn’t say what it may have been a long time ago. There were no windows and Daryl heaved in a steadying breath when he finally stopped in front of the gray, metal door. He raised the butt of his crossbow and knocked it hard in the center. A hollow reverberation sounded and you could almost feel the vibration in your bones.

Both of you strained your ears in the silence. The dogs stood on either side of you, alert. You waited several long minutes, rigid with anticipation, until finally you wavered on your feet and Daryl almost dropped his bow in his anxiety to steady you again. His brow furrowed deeply. “I think it’s clear, but dun let yer guard down until we know for sure. We gotta check the whole building.” He reached out and tested the handle cautiously. It was loose. He turned it and pushed inside into the darkness, clicking on the light mounted on his bow.

You moved through the building efficiently, searching for any sign or people or infected, but the building was silent with its maze of shelves and newspapered windows. Part of the roof had collapsed at some point and pigeons took off and flew through the hole toward the inky night sky overhead. The dogs gave chase briefly but quickly returned to your sides when they realized the birds were far out of reach.

Daryl was shining his light around what must have been an employee break room at some point. “I think we’re good,” he drawled, heaving a relieved sigh. As if that was all you needed to hear to allow your body to finally give out, you collapsed in a heap on the floor. “Whoa—hey, hey!” Daryl rushed to you. Bear whimpered and licked your cheek. You were breathing hard, clearly exhausted and crashing after the highs of the adrenaline. “Hey—yer alrigh’,” he drawled, kneeling beside you and quickly dumping his gear down on the floor. He cupped your face between his hands and wiped at a spot of blood on your cheek from your fight with the walkers outside the shop. “We’re okay. S’gonna be okay…”

“I c—can’t f—feel my feet,” you said, reaching a still gloved hand toward your sodden feet. The slippers were blocks of ice and so were the socks beneath them.

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “Yeah… uhh—yeah, we need fire. We gotta get ya warm. Lemme—” he glanced back at the hole in the roof, perfect to let the smoke escape. “Okay. I’mma make a fire. Lemme gather up some shit to burn. Just—ya peel off those wet socks and stuff and move your toes and feet, see if ya can warm ‘em a bit with yer hands. If ya gotta, wrap ‘em in yer coat or put your mittens on ‘em.”

You realized for the first time that he barely had any winter gear on either. “W—what ab—bout you?”

He gave you a half-smile. “‘M okay. Haven’t ya noticed ‘m immune to the cold now? It almost had me once, but ain’t gonna happen again.”

His cheeks were red and windburned and you frowned. “It’s n—not a virus. Ya don’t g—get immunity l—like that, Daryl,” you argued. “Ya can’t just—”

He suddenly cupped your face and pressed his lips eagerly to yours. Yours were chilled and tasted slightly salty, like tears, but you kissed him back hungrily, feeling a screaming welling up inside your chest—too close, it was too close, too close, that was all too close… “I’ve got this,” he whispered to you when he pulled back, brushing some strands of your hair that were sticking to your cheeks. “Just rest here and try to unfreeze them toes.” Daryl was here. Daryl was going to make sure you were okay. The scream lessened to a dull roar. You nodded and watched him step away into the darkness to gather dried bits of cardboard and paper and broken pallet wood to build a fire. The glow of his flashlight was a warm torch in the cold darkness.

You sighed and turned your attention back to your frozen feet. Bear laid down against your side, whining slightly. Strider walked calm patrol around you, on alert and staring and sniffing into the darkness.

When you peeled (or cracked may be more accurate) the sodden socks from your feet, the skin on your feet was so white it looked completely drained of all life and you thought that the tips of your toes were slightly blue, but it was difficult to tell in the warm, yellow light of your headlamp. You did as Daryl had instructed and tried to move and wiggle them, mentally trying to summon hot blood back into them. You finally took off your mittens and pulled them on over your feet. Slowly the warmth from your hands began to penetrate the iciness of your skin.

An orange glow flickered to life in the direction Daryl had gone and you watched embers lick up toward the hole in the roof. Daryl reappeared around some shelves and paced over to you. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get ya warmed up.” He glanced at your feet and nodded. “Nice socks.”

“Thanks.” Your shivering and stammer was gone. Being out of the wind of the sled and at least protected from the worst of the descending cold of night seemed to allow your body to make some headway toward warmth again. “It’s a new trend I’m starting.” You noted that his hand was chilled as you accepted it and he pulled you to your feet. Daryl gathered up the gear and hauled it along to the fire. The dogs trotted beside you.

There was already a happy blaze and you sank down beside it and warmed your fingers and feet, sticking them out toward the flickering flames. It wasn’t lost on you that you’d almost died in a fire not 40 minutes ago and now the same thing was perhaps saving your toes. The cabin—gone. It was hard to believe it was gone. Gone like your mom and dad. Gone like Brian. All of your old life was now behind, smoldering on the mountain, perhaps trampled under rotting feet. But you’d made it out. No thanks to your own obstinacy, you’d made it out.

Daryl watched you silently for several long minutes, warming his own body in the glow of heat and throwing on more pallet wood to stoke the fire as needed. Finally, he broke the silence. “Ya okay?” he asked. His voice was thick, worried.

But you looked up at him, your eyes a bit teary and sad at first, and then you smiled. It was small and tired, but it was there. “Yeah,” you said with a nod. “I am. Or I will be… I’m with you. The boys are here,” you said reaching over to pet Strider’s ear. “That’s all that matters.”

He nodded, and a wave crashed over him, nearly dragging him under. He tore his eyes away from you and blinked furiously at the tears burning in them, staring instead at the movement in the coals. “I—I really thought I might lose ya,” he admitted. “That fire—it was spreadin’ so quick. And then the roof fallin’ in—”

You hastily pulled off the puffy coat you still had on and laid it down on the ground next to him before sitting on it, scooting close beside him. You leaned against his side and slipped your arm through his. “Me too,” you said. “But then—I heard your voice on the other side of that wall—and I knew you would get me out. I just knew that you’d do everything you could to get me out. You saved me. Again. I can’t ever repay you for all you’ve done.”

Daryl looked over at you in surprise. “Repay me?” His blue eyes flickered between yours again, but you were relieved to see that they were less turbulent. “Ya dun owe me a damn thing.” He leaned in toward you then and kissed your cheek, but it was soft and lingering and it warmed you even better than the fire did.

You laid down close to the fire, tucked against each other that night. Daryl’s arm looped over you protectively. You felt the crash coming hard from the waning of your adrenaline, the terror of your ordeal. “What do we do next?”

Daryl was almost afraid to ask the question, but he did. Part of him still didn’t believe that someone as good as you could come to him and then stay… “Will ya come with me? Back to Alexandria?”

You turned over beneath his arm and leaned up on your forearm, your eyes flickering between his, seeing his fear and his nervousness. “Of course, I will. And not just because of what happened tonight. I—I would have made the same decision if the cabin and everything was still there. I don’t—I don’t want to be parted from you.” You pressed your hand flush to the center of his chest when you said it and Daryl felt a surge of relief and happiness and hope and—

He smiled at you. Just a small one, but it touched the corners of his eyes. “Everybody back home is gonna love ya. Just wait. Ya got a ready-made family waitin’ for ya back there.”

“Waiting for us,” you corrected him.

He nudged his nose up in a nod, that signature Daryl move. “Right. Us. Tomorrow, we’ll see if my bike is still where I left it months ago when I rolled into town—see if it’ll still run. If it ain’t, we’ll figure somethin’ else out. A car… somethin’. Or take the sled as far as we can. And we head home.”

You nodded, thoughtfully biting your bottom lip. “It’s a long fucking way. Do you really think we can make it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I know we can. The two of us together? Are ya kiddin’ me? Ain’t shit standin’ in our way.”

You let out a small laugh at that and then leaned forward and kissed him softly. His hand landed lightly on your neck. Then, exhaustion was winning and you lay down, tucked in against his chest, his arm draping over you again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Three Months Later “Hey—hey!” Glenn shouted down to Rosita who was standing by the gate. “Did anybody go out today on a run?” he asked, glancing back up to stare down the street in the distance.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why?” Before he could answer, she looked out through the gate and saw the approaching truck too. She hurried to climb the ladder and stood beside Glenn on the guard platform. He had dug out the binoculars and raised them to his eyes.

There was a long silence where he just seemed to be staring, fixedly, at the approaching vehicle.

“What? What is it?” Rosita urged. The truck was still too far away for her to see much with no scope to aid her.

Glenn lowered the binoculars and looked over at her, his eyes a little wide. “Go get Rick—everybody, go get everybody!” he said, almost in a daze.

“What is going on?” she urged him. That’s when his face finally cracked into a wide smile, his eyes a little teary.

“There’s a bike in the back,” he said.

She knew what that meant. “Is it—? Can you see him? Are you sure?” she asked desperately.

Glenn nodded. “Yeah. It’s him. Go get everyone! Hurry!”

In the truck, Daryl glanced over at you in the passenger seat beside him. “Are ya ready for this?” he asked.

You shook your head and shrugged. “I—I dunno. It’s a lot of people,” you laughed. “But I’m—I can’t wait to meet them. Nervous though…” you added. Bear stood, sensing the end of the journey somehow and tapping his paws excitedly on the back seat, giving a big stretch and a loud yawn and whine. Looking ahead you could see the gate, just as he’d described it, and the sign posted on the wall: Alexandria Safe Zone. Mercy for the Lost. Vengeance for the Plunderers.

Daryl’s hand landed over yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re gonna love ya. Ya ain’t got any reason to be nervous. I know it.”

The brakes squealed as the truck came to a stop in front of the gate. Daryl flashed the lights three times, the old signal they’d always used that the coast was clear to open it. He nudged his head toward his door and you nodded. You both climbed out, the dogs jumping out after you, climbing over the center console to get outside. As the metal gate rattled, drawn back by someone you couldn’t yet see. It rolled to the side to reveal a small crowd gathering. More people were rushing up the street to join them. You met Daryl’s eyes again as he stepped around his door and gave you a warm smile. Home. He was happy to be home. And you were with him. You’d made it.

Daryl shut his door and strode forward. You stopped by the front of the truck, hanging back a little awkwardly. “Stay, boys,” you murmured to the dogs. They heeled on either side of you, but Strider was wagging his tail and Bear was whining a little, looking ahead at all the people.

“Move! Watch out,” a voice rose from the crowd and a woman with short silver hair burst through. A huge grin spread on her face when she saw him walking toward the gate. Carol. It must be Carol. She rushed to him and threw her arms around him in a huge hug, then pulled back to clasp his face between her hands before hugging him again, a teary, broad smile on her face, her eyes squeezed shut. Daryl hugged her back, but looked up as the crowd parted and a lean man with curly hair broke through with a little girl in his arms at a light jog.

“Maggie, would you hold her?” Rick murmured, almost not believing his eyes as he glanced back up at Daryl standing there, Carol now at his side. Maggie, happy tears on her cheeks already, held Judith. Rick’s eyes flickered over to you briefly but then landed back on Daryl again. His expression was almost disbelief at first and then it melted into emotion he was trying hard to hold back. He walked right up to Daryl and gripped his shoulder hard, looking him square in the eye and nodding, gulping emotion back. “Where the hell have you been?” he drawled, his face finally breaking into a smile touched with tears, and he pulled Daryl into a hug, clasping the back of his neck. “God, it’s good to see you brother.”

You bit your bottom lip, choking back your own emotion at the reunion, and feeling like you were intruding on something. After Daryl broke from Rick, he was quickly surrounded as his family came one by one to welcome him home—Michonne clasped his face and kissed his cheek, Eric and Aaron hugged him with broad smiles and pats on the back, Glenn gave him a hasty hug, Maggie pressed her palm gently to his cheek and Daryl stroked Judith’s soft blond hair. He was chewing on his bottom lip hard, trying to stop himself from completely going to pieces. Carol and Rick never left his side, but after a few minutes the rest of the Alexandrians who weren’t part of Daryl’s core group wandered away with plenty to talk about. Who was that standing there with the two dogs? Do you think its Brian’s sister? Did he really find her? He can’t have made it all the way to Montana and back!

Finally, he was able to gather himself and looked back at you still standing by the car, running your fingers through Bear’s thick fur nervously, biting your bottom lip. He cleared his throat and caught Rick’s eyes again. “Rick—uhh, everybody… This is Y/N. She’s—she’s Brian’s twin sister. And that’s Bear and Strider,” he said, pacing over to pat the big lab on his head and tousle his ears around.

For a moment everyone just stared at you, mostly good-natured looks on their faces, sure, but also some pity and grief and curiosity and wariness mixed in. Daryl met your eyes and gave a questioning look to ask non-verbally, are you okay? You nodded and managed a tight smile to tell him you were, though your nerves were fizzing.

“Well, what the hell are we standing around out here for?” Carol said finally, grinning again. “Come inside!”

There was some laughter and they all moved back in past the gate.

“I’mma drive the truck in, alrigh’?” Daryl said to Rick, who gave you another appraising look and then nodded. “See ya at the house in a few.”

Carol came and gave his arm a gentle touch. “We missed you,” she said. “See you in a minute.” She glanced at you and gave you a tight smile which you did your best to return, though you were so overwhelmed and nervous you weren’t sure it came off.

“C’mon,” Daryl said, nudging his head back toward the truck. He whistled and opened the passenger side door for you and the dogs. They bounded right back in and you slid in past him. The door shut with a snap and you realized you’d been holding your breath.

Daryl climbed in behind the steering wheel again and started the engine. “Ya okay?” he asked, shifting into drive.

You nodded. “Yeah. Just—a bit overwhelmed is all.”

He nodded. “Well, ya’d been alone up there a long time. I know this is a lot. Ya want me to tell everybody ya just need some space for tonight?”

“What? No! No, I want to meet everyone,” you argued. “I do. I just need to remember to breathe,” you said with a laugh.

He nodded and his eyes flickered over your face. “I’ll be right by ya the whole time.”

“I know,” you nodded.

“And if ya do need a break, they’ll all understand.”

“I’m good,” you said.

It was a quick drive to park in front of the group’s two houses. Maggie and Glenn were waiting outside when you pulled up, and you saw Rick on the porch, though he stepped back inside as you all were climbing out.

“Is this the same bike?” Glenn asked Daryl, looking at the motorcycle in the bed of the truck.

“More or less,” he drawled. “Lots of parts went to shit on the road and had to be patched up or replaced, but most of it made it.”

Maggie was grinning as the dogs ran to greet her and she bent down to let them lick her face and to give them lots of scratches and pets. “They’re adorable,” she said.

“I tell them all the time,” you said.

“We always had dogs on the farm,” she said, scratching under Bear’s chin. The next moment she stood up and pulled you into a gentle hug. You expected her to break from you quickly, but she didn’t. She really hugged you for a long moment, and you hugged her back through your surprise. “I’m so glad you’re here. We all are,” she said. Her southern drawl was sweet and warm. “We—we all loved Brian so much.” Tears bit her vision as she said it.

You nodded and swallowed at the lump in your throat. “I know you did. Thank you for that. Daryl’s told me so much about all of you and—and I’m so grateful to be here.”

“Well, let’s get you and these cute dogs inside. We don’t need to stand out here all night. Come on in and have something to eat and drink,” she said.

You glanced back at Daryl where he was talking with Glenn still and he started after you and Maggie up the porch steps and into the warm light.

Everyone was crowded around in the kitchen after you and Daryl had time to clean up and get some food and water into you. Now there was wine being passed around and the atmosphere seemed suddenly charged as a natural lull fell in all the conversation. You and Daryl looked up and met each other’s eyes at the same time.

“Well?” Carol snapped suddenly. “Tell us everything!” she laughed. “You’ve kept us waiting long enough!” The tension seemed to break and many of Daryl’s family laughed.

He let out a gruff laugh too. “I think both of us are a little too tired for everythin’ tonight,” he said. “But we can give ya a few bits from the journey back.” He glanced over at you beside him and you nodded. “We hit a blizzard in Wyoming. Literally couldn’t see yer damn hand in front of yer face. Got snowed in for six days.”

“Daryl killed his first elk in Wyoming too,” you added with a proud smile.

“We were ambushed by hunters in South Dakota. Was a bit touchy and go but we got the best of ‘em,” he went on. “Most of Iowa was a wasteland. We dropped south to avoid the Chicago metro area, but we still saw some of the biggest hordes I’ve ever seen. Had a car wreck in Indiana and then got attacked by some group of assholes—” He almost reached for your hand at that moment. It had been one of the most terrifying, lowest points of the journey back. He could still see the gash you’d gotten on your head and the cut on your neck healing. “Uhh,” he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck instead of reaching for you. “After that, a lot of the roads were fucked or camped on by groups who didn’t look too friendly. We ended up going way south to Kentucky and trying to stay off the main roads after that…”

“Flooding in West Virginia,” you added. “We had to go way around.”

“Yeah. And then—somehow, we got back here.”

The silence settled thickly again until Tara suddenly raised a glass, a welcoming smile on her face. “To family, new and old,” she said.

“To family,” Rick echoed, giving the first wide smile you’d really seem him break into all night.

Carol raised her glass and cleared her throat. “May we look forward with hope and backward without regret,” she said.

“Hear, hear!” Abraham exclaimed, hugging an arm more tightly around Rosita.

Everyone drank, and you felt full in a way that had nothing to do with the good meal and everything to do with the warmth, safety, and welcoming company. When you glanced at Daryl at your side, his eyes were already on you.

The evening wore on and some people drifted away to bed little by little, but many of you were still gathered in the cozy space of the living room.

Daryl had stepped outside for some air and not long after Rick stepped out onto the porch and came to stand beside him, gripping his shoulder briefly and giving him a classic Rick Grimes smile. He glanced back in through the illuminated window at you sitting with Maggie and Glenn on the couch. Bear was curled up at your feet on the floor, content to snooze. Strider was hamming it up getting belly scratches from Carl and Abraham, thoroughly enjoying all the attention. Carol was cuddling Judith and seemed to be watching you closely, but not in a suspicious way—just taking you in. It wasn’t lost on anyone how you and Daryl seemed to relate to each other, his regard for you and yours for him, how he hadn’t left your side all night, the clear chemistry though no one had seen any sort of touch pass between you. “So, am I wrong or did you find more than just Brian’s sister in Montana?”

Daryl scruffed a hand through his long hair and nodded once. “Yeah… more than I bargained for, tha’s for damn sure,” he said, turning to look in at you and the warm scene with his family gathered around. He leaned back on the railing and drew in a deep breath of the cool spring air. “She saved my life,” he drawled. “I think in more than one way.”

Rick smiled. “I have a feeling you’ve done the same for her. She was up there all alone?” he asked. Daryl nodded.

“Yeah. And not just survivin’, but almost thrivin’ up there in a lotta ways. I know she left a piece of her heart back in them mountains. S’gonna be an adjustment here for sure…”

Rick nodded. “Well, it was for all of us. You especially,” he pointed out. “As for that piece of her heart, I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to help her with that too. Give her a new one.” He sighed again. “It’s good to have you home, brother. We never gave up hope but we were worried—we were starting to think maybe you wouldn’t be coming back to us.”

He ducked his head and nodded. “Yeah… It was a long haul. Twice,” he said with a wry laugh.

“But worth it?” Rick asked.

Daryl looked up at you through the window again. You were bathed in a golden glow and surrounded by other people he loved. It was better than he ever thought he’d have, even before everything went to shit. “Hell yeah.”

Rick laughed happily. “Now, one more thing… You aren’t takin’ her down to sleep in the basement, are you?” Rick asked, cocking an eyebrow at him, an amused look on his face.

Daryl scoffed. “The hell is wrong with my room in the basement?”

“Well, there’s a washer and dryer in it for starters. Second, it’s a basement,” Rick teased him. “Seems like you aren’t a bachelor anymore, Daryl. Take one of the rooms upstairs. We’ve got spares.”

Daryl sighed. “We can—figure that all out tomorrow. I was thinkin’—maybe she and I would just get a place…” Rick smiled at this. “For tonight, we just wanna crash. We’ve been livin’ on the road so long now, few months. Ain’t been stayin’ in the same place more than a couple days at a time, ya know? Will be nice to put down roots again.”

Rick’s eyes were crinkled in a smile. “Can’t wait to see what grows.”

“Me either.”

Daryl followed Rick back in, and you looked up and gave him a tired smile as he came in, trying to blink the waiting sleep from your eyes.

“Whatcha think?” he drawled, leaning forward on his hands on the back of the couch just behind you.

“I’m exhausted,” you laughed.

“Yeah, me too,” he mused, looking around at his remaining family. Judith had fallen asleep in Carol’s arms and everyone was cooing at her. “C’mon,” he said, nudging his nose up. “Let’s slip away while we can.”

You happily agreed and jumped the back of the couch, but your sneaky exit was immediately ruined by the dogs needing to follow. Hoots and hollers rose behind you but the two of you hurried out anyway, calling back only a few goodnights. Daryl grabbed your hand and led you toward the stairs. “We can crash in my old space tonight.” He could hear Rick in his head. “Uhh—but it ain’t much… s’just a mattress in the basement mostly,” he drawled.

“Better than we’ve had for a while. And as long as you’re there, I don’t care if it’s a moldy carpet on the floor,” you said.

Daryl snorted and looked down at you. “Moldy? Really?”

“Daryl, I’m so exhausted I could fall asleep standing up right now,” you said, yawning as soon as the words left your mouth.

“Well, ya dun have to do that,” he said. “C’mon. We can both get some deep sleep tonight… It’s safe here. Safest place I’ve ever had… ‘cept maybe for that cabin of yours.”

“More,” you said. “My cabin didn’t have big ass walls all around it.”

“This way,” he drawled, still holding your hand, fingers laced with yours. You followed him down the staircase and into a dim room. It looked like any normal basement; a washer and dryer on one wall, random boxes and storage. But there in one corner was a mattress, neatly made and piled with blankets and pillows. He patted a hand down on them expecting to see a puff of dust, but none arose. “Huh. Somebody musta made the bed up fresh while we were getting cleaned up.”

“My money is on Maggie,” you said, collapsing down onto the blankets and sinking in. “I like her,” you said, before another yawn interrupted you. The dogs settled on the rug.

“I like you,” he said, climbing toward you and caging you beneath his body. He stroked your hair away from your forehead and your eyes shut at his touch. “Maybe a bit too much…” he drawled, smiling. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, and then your lips. You were already drifting toward sleep.

“Too much? Not possible. And only like?” you smiled, opening your eyes again.

He gave you a look and you laughed. “Ya know—ya know I love ya,” he said. He still sounded somewhat shy when he said it… like he couldn’t believe he got to say it at all.

You gave him a sleepy smile. “I love you, too. And I’ll live down here in the spider webby basement or sleep on a moldy rug if I have to…”

He laughed and leaned in to tuck his face against the crook of your neck and breathe in your smell, his body now flush to yours. “Nah. We’re gonna build our own space together. You’ll see. But for now—my bachelor bed is the best I’ve got for tonight.” He lay down beside you and tugged you in against his body, much the same way he had by the fire that night when you’d escaped the flames and the horde. Your breathing was soon soft and deep.

“G’night,” you sighed, snuggling in, already falling into a warm, contented sleep you hadn’t had since long before, back in the cabin after you and Daryl had finally become something more.

“Night,” he breathed. Just before he fell asleep, he sent a thought to Brian, up into the ether, to tell him that he’d done as he’d promised, that you were here and you were safe, and he was going to make sure he protected you with his life… but better yet, that he’d build a life with you that he never thought he could have. I promise. I’ll do right by her. I swear on my life.

The End.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can’t wait to embark on a new series in the near future, and I have a lot of waiting one shots I have been holding off on until this was finished. And here we are! Bittersweet, it is.

#dead of winter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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callsigns-haze · 3 months

Text

Histories Enemy

Warning: This chapter contains explicit sexual content and emotional turmoil, torture and violence. Summary: In a moment of passion and vulnerability, Rhysand implores YN to come back to him, but she grapples with the weight of her responsibilities as High Lady of the Court of the Lost Gods and yet returns to him. But now with the queen under the mountain things change

Series master list (but can be read alone)

As fifty long years passed since YN's return to the Court of the Lost Gods, the shadow of Amarantha's rule loomed large over the land, casting a dark pall over the once vibrant court. Rhysand, bound by duty to the tyrant queen, had become a distant figure, his presence a rare and fleeting glimpse in the tumultuous landscape of their world.

Meanwhile, Tamlin's human lover, driven by an unwavering determination to break his curse, had devoted herself to the arduous task of unraveling the dark magic that bound him. Her efforts were met with frustration and heartache, as each attempt seemed to only tighten the grip of the curse, leaving Tamlin trapped in a prison of his own making.

As the days turned into years, the courts suffered under Amarantha's oppressive rule, their spirits crushed beneath the weight of her tyranny. YN, once a beacon of hope and resilience, found herself struggling to maintain her resolve in the face of such overwhelming darkness, her heart heavy with the burden of their collective suffering.

But amidst the chaos and despair, a glimmer of hope remained—a flickering flame that refused to be extinguished. With each passing day, YN and her allies worked tirelessly to resist Amarantha's rule, their bond forged in the crucible of adversity, their determination unyielding in the face of impossible odds.

And as they stood on the brink of despair, their spirits battered but unbroken, YN knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, united in their unwavering resolve to reclaim their freedom, their dignity, and their future. For in the darkest of times, it was their unity, their strength, and their unwavering belief in the power of love and hope that would ultimately light the way forward, guiding them through the darkness to a brighter tomorrow.

As the days dwindled down to mere moments before Amarantha's grip tightened further, YN's heart pounded with a mixture of dread and determination. She knew all too well the cruelty and ruthlessness of the queen's ambitions, and the thought of her armies descending upon the Court of the Lost Gods filled her with a bone-deep fear.

With each passing moment, YN felt the weight of their impending doom pressing down upon her, threatening to crush her beneath its unforgiving weight. She knew that they were running out of time, that soon they would be faced with an impossible choice—surrender to Amarantha's tyranny or stand and fight, risking everything they held dear in a desperate bid for freedom.

But amidst the turmoil and uncertainty, a flicker of defiance burned bright within YN's heart. She refused to succumb to despair, refused to bow before the tyrant queen and her legions of darkness. With every fiber of her being, she vowed to stand firm, to protect her people, her home, and the ones she loved with every breath in her body.

Gathering her allies close, YN whispered words of encouragement and resolve, her voice a rallying cry in the gathering storm. Together, they prepared to face the coming onslaught, their hearts united in their determination to resist Amarantha's rule and reclaim their freedom at any cost.

And as the final moments ticked away, YN stood ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, her spirit unbroken, her courage unwavering.

The force of Amarantha's blow sent YN crashing to the ground, her body wracked with searing pain as she cried out in agony. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, leaving her gasping for air as darkness threatened to engulf her senses.

Stars danced before YN's eyes as she struggled to remain conscious, her vision swimming with dizziness and pain. Every breath felt like fire in her lungs, every movement sending waves of agony radiating through her battered body.

Through the haze of pain, YN could hear Amarantha's mocking laughter echoing in her ears, the sound a cruel reminder of the queen's overwhelming power. Fear clawed at YN's heart as she realized the full extent of the danger she was in, the sheer brutality of Amarantha's wrath a stark reminder of the stakes they faced.

But even as despair threatened to consume her, a flicker of defiance burned bright within YN's heart, a stubborn refusal to surrender to the darkness that threatened to consume her. With every ounce of strength she could muster, she fought to push through the pain, to rise above the fear and uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm her.

Slowly, agonizingly, YN forced herself to her feet, her muscles trembling with exertion as she faced Amarantha once more. Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against her, she refused to back down, refused to give in to the queen's cruelty.

With a defiant glare, YN met Amarantha's gaze head-on, her eyes blazing with unyielding determination. "You may have the power to hurt me," she spat, her voice trembling with defiance, "but you will never break me. I will fight you with every breath in my body, until my last dying breath."

And as she stood there, battered and bruised but unbroken in spirit, YN knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, she would face them with courage, with strength, and with the unwavering belief that love and hope would ultimately triumph over fear and despair. For in that moment, she was more than just a victim of Amarantha's cruelty—she was a warrior, a survivor, a beacon of hope in a world consumed by darkness.

The sickening thud of YN's body hitting the wall echoed through the chamber as Amarantha's brutal assault sent her crashing against the unforgiving surface. Pain exploded in YN's skull as her consciousness teetered on the edge of oblivion, darkness closing in around her like a suffocating shroud.

For a fleeting moment, YN fought to stay conscious, her mind a whirlwind of agony and confusion. But the relentless onslaught of pain proved too much to bear, and with a final, desperate gasp, she succumbed to the blackness that enveloped her, her world fading into oblivion as unconsciousness claimed her.

In the depths of her unconsciousness, YN's mind was a turbulent sea of fractured dreams and haunting visions, each more terrifying than the last. Images of Amarantha's cruel smile and mocking laughter haunted her, a relentless reminder of the queen's overwhelming power and cruelty.

But even in the darkness, a faint glimmer of hope remained—a whisper of resilience that refused to be extinguished. Deep within the recesses of her soul, YN clung to the belief that somehow, someway, she would find a way to rise again, to defy the odds and reclaim her freedom from the clutches of tyranny.

And as she lay suspended in the void between dreams and reality, YN vowed to never surrender, to never give up the fight against the darkness that threatened to consume her. For in that moment, she was more than just a victim of Amarantha's cruelty—she was a warrior, a survivor, a symbol of hope in a world ravaged by despair. And no matter how dark the night may seem, she knew that the dawn of a new day was waiting just beyond the horizon, ready to break through the shadows and illuminate the path to freedom once more.

----

As Rhysand stood amidst the turmoil of his court, a sudden, jarring sensation rippled through the depths of his mind—a sharp, searing pain that tore through the fragile threads of his mental bond with YN. His heart clenched with a sense of unease as he felt the connection between them splinter and fracture, leaving him reeling in its wake.

For a fleeting moment, Rhysand struggled to make sense of the sudden rupture in their bond, his mind racing with a torrent of questions and fears. What had caused this break? Was YN in danger? Had something happened to her?

With a growing sense of dread gnawing at his heart, Rhysand reached out tentatively, probing the shattered remnants of their connection in search of any sign of YN's presence. But to his dismay, he found nothing but an empty void—a yawning chasm of silence where once their bond had thrummed with life and vitality.

Panic surged through Rhysand's veins as he grappled with the magnitude of what had occurred. Had YN been harmed? Was she in need of his help? The uncertainty gnawed at him, driving him to the brink of despair as he struggled to come to terms with the sudden and inexplicable loss of their connection.

But even as fear threatened to consume him, a flicker of determination burned bright within Rhysand's heart. He refused to give in to despair, refused to accept that this was the end of their bond. With every fiber of his being, he vowed to find a way to reach YN, to bridge the gulf that now separated them and restore their connection to its former strength.

For in that moment, Rhysand knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, he would stop at nothing to ensure YN's safety, to protect her from harm, and to reclaim the bond that bound them together, heart and soul. And as he stood amidst the wreckage of their shattered connection, he knew that their love would endure, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf them both.

-----

As YN found herself locked in the confines of Amarantha's basement chambers, her voice filled the air with a haunting melody that spoke of longing and defiance. The notes rose and fell, carrying with them the weight of her despair and the fervent hope of escape.

With each verse, YN's voice echoed off the cold stone walls, filling the oppressive space with a haunting resonance that seemed to pierce the darkness. Her words were a lament, a cry for freedom that echoed the silent yearning of her captive heart.

As the song reached its crescendo, YN's voice soared, filling the chamber with a raw intensity that spoke of her unwavering determination to break free from the chains of captivity. Her voice trembled with emotion, each note a testament to her fierce resolve to defy the darkness that threatened to engulf her.

And as she sang, her voice a beacon of hope in the darkness, YN knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, she would face them with courage, with strength, and with the unwavering belief that love and hope would ultimately triumph over fear and despair. For in that moment, she was more than just a prisoner—she was a fighter, a survivor, a symbol of resilience in the face of adversity. And no matter how dark the night may seem, she knew that the dawn of a new day was waiting just beyond the horizon, ready to break through the shadows and illuminate the path to freedom once more.

It was in the depths of her despair that YN's gaze fell upon Feyre, the girl Tamlin loved, as she was dragged into a nearby cell. The sight sent a shiver down YN's spine, a grim reminder of the cruelty and brutality of Amarantha's reign.

But even as fear clenched at her heart, YN refused to give in to despair. With a steely resolve, she vowed to find a way to escape, to defy the darkness that threatened to engulf her and reclaim her freedom from the clutches of tyranny.

And as she continued to sing, her voice echoing through the darkness like a beacon of hope, YN knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, she would face them with courage, with strength, and with the unwavering belief that love and hope would ultimately triumph over fear and despair. For in that moment, she was more than just a prisoner—she was a fighter, a survivor, a symbol of resilience in the face of adversity. And no matter how dark the night may seem, she knew that the dawn of a new day was waiting just beyond the horizon, ready to break through the shadows and illuminate the path to freedom once more.

As the guards departed, leaving YN to the oppressive silence of her cell, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her heart. Despite the heavy weight of her own captivity, her thoughts drifted to the girl locked away in the adjacent cell—Feyre, the object of Tamlin's affection.

With cautious steps, YN approached the barred opening that separated their cells, her heart pounding in her chest as she peered through the dim light to catch a glimpse of the girl within. Feyre's eyes met hers, wary and uncertain, mirroring the turmoil that churned within YN's own soul.

For a long moment, they regarded each other in silence, the air heavy with unspoken questions and unspoken fears. Feyre's gaze held a mixture of suspicion and trepidation, her uncertainty palpable in the tense silence that hung between them.

But as YN's eyes met Feyre's, a flicker of understanding passed between them—a silent acknowledgment of the shared struggle that bound them together, despite the vast divide that separated them. In that moment, YN knew that despite the walls that imprisoned them, they were not alone.

With a tentative smile, YN reached out a hand, offering Feyre a gesture of solidarity and compassion. Feyre hesitated, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, but slowly, hesitantly, she reached out to grasp YN's hand in return—a silent agreement forged in the darkness, a glimmer of hope in the depths of despair.

And as they stood there, two prisoners bound by fate and circumstance, YN knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, united in their determination to defy the darkness and reclaim their freedom once more. For in that moment, they were more than just captives—they were warriors, survivors, allies in a battle for survival. And no matter how dire the odds, they would stand together, their spirits unbroken, their hearts ablaze with the unwavering belief that love and hope would ultimately triumph over fear and despair.

As the flickering torchlight cast eerie shadows across the stone walls of their cells, YN's voice broke the silence, her words filled with a solemn urgency as she explained the identity of their captor—Amarantha, the tyrant queen whose reign of terror had plunged their world into darkness.

"She's ruthless," YN began, her voice low but steady, as she recounted the tales of Amarantha's cruelty and brutality. "Amarantha will stop at nothing to maintain her power, to crush anyone who dares to defy her."

Feyre listened intently, her expression grave as she absorbed YN's words, the weight of their meaning settling heavily upon her shoulders. The stories of Amarantha's atrocities painted a chilling portrait of a ruler consumed by greed and ambition, a force of darkness that threatened to engulf them all in its merciless grasp.

But even as fear clenched at her heart, YN pressed on, her voice tinged with defiance as she spoke of their shared determination to defy the queen's tyranny, to reclaim their freedom from the clutches of oppression.

Feyre nodded, her eyes shining with newfound resolve as she met YN's gaze with unwavering determination. In that moment, they were not just two prisoners bound by fate—they were allies, comrades in arms, united in their shared struggle for survival.

And as they stood there, their spirits unbroken despite the darkness that surrounded them, YN knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, their hearts ablaze with the unwavering belief that love and hope would ultimately triumph over fear and despair. For in that moment, they were more than just captives—they were warriors, survivors, defiant in the face of adversity, and determined to reclaim their freedom at any cost.

---

As Feyre entered the arena, her heart pounded with a mixture of dread and determination, her mind consumed by thoughts of the task that lay ahead. But as she stepped into the dimly lit chamber, her eyes widened in horror at the sight that greeted her—a lone figure suspended in the center of the arena, barely conscious, her wrists bound and her body bruised and battered.

It was YN.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Feyre took in the sight of her fellow captive, her heart wrenching at the sight of the woman's suffering. The realization of what she had unwittingly walked into hit her like a physical blow, filling her with a sickening sense of guilt and despair.

But even as fear threatened to consume her, Feyre forced herself to push forward, her every instinct screaming at her to save YN from the clutches of their captors. With trembling hands, she rushed to YN's side, her fingers fumbling with the bindings that held her in place, her voice a desperate plea for help.

As she worked frantically to free YN from her restraints, Feyre's eyes flickered to the entrance of the arena, where Rhysand stood frozen in shock, his expression a mask of anguish and despair. It was clear that he had only just arrived, his heartrending gaze fixed on the woman he loved, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he fought to contain his emotions.

But there was no time for words or explanations, only action. With a final, desperate tug, Feyre managed to free YN from her bonds, catching her limp form as she crumpled to the ground, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

For a moment, they remained locked in a silent tableau, their hearts heavy with the weight of their shared suffering. But as Rhysand rushed to YN's side, gathering her into his arms with a tenderness that belied the fierce strength of his love, Feyre knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, united in their determination to defy the darkness and reclaim their freedom once and for all.

With trembling hands and a heart heavy with dread, Rhysand gently shook YN's limp form, his voice choked with emotion as he called out to her in a desperate bid to rouse her from unconsciousness.

"YN, love, please," he murmured, his words a whispered prayer in the silent darkness of the arena. "Open your eyes. Stay with me."

But YN remained unresponsive, her breathing shallow and labored as she lay cradled in Rhysand's arms, her pale features drawn with pain and exhaustion. Panic surged through him like a tidal wave as he struggled to contain his rising fear, his mind racing with a thousand dire possibilities.

With a trembling hand, Rhysand brushed a strand of hair from YN's face, his touch gentle despite the fierce urgency that burned within him. He refused to accept the possibility of losing her, refused to let the darkness claim her as its own.

"Please, YN," he pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. "Don't leave me. You're stronger than this. You have to fight."

But even as he spoke, doubt gnawed at the edges of his resolve, threatening to overwhelm him with its suffocating weight. The sight of YN's still form filled him with a sense of helpless despair, leaving him grasping desperately for any glimmer of hope in the darkness that surrounded them.

And as he held her close, his heart aching with the agony of uncertainty, Rhysand knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, he would never stop fighting for YN's life, for their love, for the chance to build a future together free from the shadow of Amarantha's tyranny. For in that moment, she was not just his lover—she was his everything, his reason for living, his light in the darkest of nights. And he would do whatever it took to keep her safe, to keep her by his side, until the end of time.

As for what happened next, it's just the book............

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@kmc1989

@hardballoonlove

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@marvel-molly

@lucky7rosie

@daughterofthemoons-stuff

@lilah-asteria

#rhys x you #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand smut #rhys smut #rhysand #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar

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