#the cape gave me a heart attack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theostrophywife · 2 years

Text

be my baby.

if you know how to by my lover, maybe you can be my baby hold me close under the covers, kiss me boy and drive me crazy

author's note: happy valentine's my loves. in honor of this day, please have this sweet, toothache inducing fluff of our favorite bat boys. the lil cas cookie cutness is dedicated to my darling @writingsbychlo to hold her over until i finish a smuttier cassian piece 😈 song inspiration: be my baby by ariana grande

The High Lord tapped his fingers.

The Illyrian general narrowed his eyes.

The shadowsinger crossed his arms.

The three brothers watched one another in quiet contemplation, waiting for the others to break the silence.

In true Cassian fashion, the male sighed and succumbed to his impatience. “So, what’s it going to be?”

Rhysand’s fingers hovered over his ornate desk, scanning the room. “It appears that we find ourselves in a conundrum, brothers.”

Azriel nodded as his shadows curled over his shoulders. “We have to make a decision soon. The day of hearts is coming up.”

“Well the solution is obvious, isn’t it?” Cassian stated. “One of us should just ask her.”

“Yes,” Rhysand agreed, “But which one?”

“Since I’m the one who even introduced her to you two idiots in the first place, I should be the one to ask.”

The High Lord crossed his arms. “Just because you met her first doesn’t give you some sort of claim,” Rhys objected. “Besides, it’s obvious that we have the most chemistry. Did you see the way she looked at me during dinner?”

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Everyone was looking at you, Rhys. Who wears a godsdamned cape to a restaurant? You looked like one of those bloodthirsty vampyrs from the north.”

Cassian snorted in response while Rhys glared at him. “Like you were any better, Cas! Don’t think we haven’t noticed that all of the sleeves on your tunics have suddenly disappeared. We get it, brother. You have biceps.”

The shadowsinger bit back a smile. “It was a bit exhibitionary for my taste.”

“Not all of us can be dark, brooding, mysterious pretty boys, Az.”

“Did you just call Azriel a pretty boy?” Rhys mused.

“That’s besides the point!” said a frustrated Cassian. “Who is going to ask Y/N to be her date for the day of hearts? All three of us obviously like her so how are we going to decide?”

“Maybe we don’t have to,” Azriel mused. His brothers inched closer, eager to hear the shadowsinger’s solution. “It should obviously be her decision. Each of us will come up with our own strategy to ask her out this week. Once she chooses, then we put this rivalry to rest.”

Cassian nodded thoughtfully. “That works for me.”

Rhysand smirked, pleased by the challenge. “May the best male win, then.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I intend to.”

Rhysand was the first of his brothers to try.

It was early in the week when he invited you for a day out in the city. Never one to turn down brunch and a shopping spree, you found yourself walking down the sunny, cobblestone streets of the Palace of Thread and Jewels. You squeezed the High Lord’s arm as you strolled side by side along the Sidra River, throwing your head back in laughter.

“You’re absolutely vicious, Rhys,” you chastened in a teasing tone. “You almost gave our poor waitress a heart attack from all your shameless flirting.”

Violet eyes twinkled with mischief as he recalled the eventful breakfast. The two of you had indulged yourselves in pancakes, eggs, bacons, and bottomless mimosas, laughing and joking as you regaled each other with your most expensive purchases. Not unlike yourself, Rhys had a penchant for the finer things in life, often splurging on expensive silks and luxurious velvets. The most exorbitant of which was a shirt made of spider silk, which cost nearly a month’s worth of your wages.

Still, Rhysand had nothing on you. One of your shoes had diamonds the size of a fist encased in a transparent heel and the High Lord’s eyes had widened at the damage it had inflicted upon your coffers. It was worth every penny. As the drinks flowed, the more boisterous the both of you grew. The tables around you kept casting amused glances in your direction and your waitress, a pretty little nymph, had nearly fainted as Rhys sent her an apologetic smile.

“It’s not my fault that females find me irresistibly charming,” he retorted with a wink.

“And unbelievably humble, too.” You retorted dryly, “Is there anything you can’t do, High Lord?”

“Pull off a cape, apparently,” Rhys exclaimed with an exaggerated sigh.

You burst into a fit of giggles. “It was an interesting choice,” you mused, earning you a fond eye roll. “But you should really run your more experimental ventures by me first, Rhysie.”

“I won’t make the mistake of not seeking out your expert fashion advice again,” his lips quirked and an easy smirk spread across his devastatingly handsome face. “Though I know you prefer me shirtless and sweaty.”

His words drew the attention of the crowd around you, making you blush. You lightly pinched the inside of Rhysand’s arm. “Silver-tongued Rhys,” you said with an incredulous shake of your head. “One of these days that wicked mouth of yours will get you into trouble.”

“Trouble is the least of what this wicked mouth can get into, darling.”

You rolled your eyes in response and tugged him into one of your favorite stores. Tease or not, you weren’t about to let Rhysand distract you from the goal of this outing. You fully intended to shop until you dropped today. Luckily, the High Lord was more than happy to oblige.

The shopkeeper had a rack of the newest arrivals waiting for you at the back of the store. You were a frequent and loyal customer to the point that the female sequestered the largest dressing room for your use every time you dropped by. Today was no exception. Although now another rack filled with elegant suits and sleek shoes sat beside your own.

You plopped down on the cushioned seat in the middle of the dressing room, swirling a glass of champagne in your hands. “No capes this time, Rhysie.”

The High Lord rolled his eyes before picking out a few choice pieces and disappearing behind a thick privacy curtain. You perused through the dresses the shopkeeper had laid out for you, running your fingers through the fabric and setting aside the clothes that you were most excited to try on first.

Caught up in the beautiful garments, the sound of the curtain being drawn back registered a beat too late. You turned, mouth gaping and hand clenching around the stem of your champagne flute at the sight before you.

Mother save you.

Rhysand emerged from the dressing room clad in a lavender silk shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. The cut of the garment was seamless, accentuating every delicious inch of him. As was his custom, the High Lord left the first few buttons undone which granted you a generous view of his golden brown skin and the intricate tattoos swirling through his chest and shoulders.

Your mouth suddenly felt as dry as the desert.

He cocked his head to the side, waiting on the answer to a question you couldn’t recall hearing. A devious smirk spread across his face as he crossed the room. Rhys pressed something into your hands, his fingers brushing against your palm.

“Would you be a doll and finish me off, darling?”

You were pretty sure that your face was as scarlet as the famous locks of the Vanserras. “W-what?” you stammered.

Rhysand raised an amused brow. “The tie, dear.” You looked down at the slip of fabric in your hand. “I’d love it if you tied me up. You were always better at knotting than I was, if I recall correctly. A most useful skill to have.”

“Charming,” you muttered in bewilderment.

The arrogant, attractive, delicious…stop. You took a deep breath to center yourself before approaching the smug male before you. Rhysand was grinning as you looped the tie around his neck, focusing on the intricate knots. He watched as you worked, his fingers caressing the inside of your wrist. The touch was distracting and you had to re-loop the damned tie three times before you finally got it right.

“You’re quite good at that,” Rhysand mused. “I wonder if it translates to other uses as well.” You tightened the bow around his neck while glaring at him for making you blush so furiously. The High Lord only laughed.

“I’d stop your teasing if I were you. I’m half tempted to cut off your circulation.”

Rhys winked. “Who says I’m not into that, darling?”

Before you could respond, he strolled through the dresses you set aside and picked out a stunning, silver number that glittered against the light. “Shopping for something special?”

You swatted him away and grabbed the dress from his hands. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Rhysand sprawled out on the velvet settee, sipping on champagne and watching you over the lip of the glass. The scrutiny of his gaze awakened a horde of traitorous little butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Flustered, you drew back the private curtain and busied yourself with putting the dress on.

“I am curious,” Rhysand said from the other side. “The day of hearts is coming up, you know.”

As if you could ever forget. You’ve only been fretting over it for the past month. Mor was convinced that Rhysand was going to ask you to spend the holiday together and while the thought was extremely flattering, you couldn’t say yes. Not because you didn’t like Rhysand. Quite the opposite, actually.

But you’d also grown fond of Cassian and Azriel, which only served to complicate the situation. The last thing you wanted to do was get in between the three brothers. You valued their friendships too much and it would break your heart to lose any of them.

The safest route was to establish clear boundaries. You were friends. Just friends—even if a part of you craved more.

You slipped on the dress and straightened, reminding yourself of the same motto you’ve been drilling into your mind over and over again for the last thirty days. Just friends.

Rhysand’s head darted up as you exited. Your heart dropped as soon as your eyes met. The way he was looking at you…that wasn’t how friends looked at one another.

You wrung your hands together, turning your back on him and surveying yourself in the mirror. Attempting to busy yourself, you absentmindedly tugged at the zipper of the dress. It snagged halfway up your spine.

“Here,” Rhysand said softly. “Let me.”

The room fell silent as he stepped behind you. His reflection was one of hesitance, but he gingerly swept your hair over your shoulder and gently pulled the zipper up. Your breathing was shallow as he worked, the back of his knuckles brushing against your skin as your eyes met in the mirror.

“You’re stunning,” he breathed, twirling you around. The dress flared around your ankles like soft dusk and the diamonds embedded into the fabric glittered like stars as you swayed across the plush carpet.

Rhysand smiled. A bright, genuine smile that caught you completely off guard.

Beautiful.

Rhys was so beautiful.

“Have you gone into shock, love?” he asked with a low chuckle. You blinked, unable to speak. The High Lord tucked a stray strand of hair behind your pointed ear, his thumb caressing the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “No one would blame you if you did. I am quite irresistible.”

You snorted, swatting his hand away. “Careful, Rhys. If your ego grows any bigger, you won’t be able to fit that fancy little crown of yours.”

“Then take me down a notch,” he said smoothly, sliding his hands inside those perfectly fitted trousers. “Be my Valentine and spend the day of hearts with me, love.”

Eyes widening, you stilled as panic seized you from within. You wanted to say yes—so, so badly, but you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. It would be utterly selfish considering how you felt about Cassian and Azriel.

Plastering on a half-smirk, you turned towards Rhysand and cocked your head. Boundaries. You had to draw boundaries. “As enticing as that would be,” you said softly, “I already have plans for that day.”

If Rhysand was disappointed, he didn’t let it show. Instead he gave you a sly, easy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Oh? Anyone that I know?” His tone was casual, but you could hear the curiosity that he was trying to reel in.

“No.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You planned on spending the day cooped up in your flat while reading one of the steamy romance novels that Nesta had lent you and Rhysand technically didn’t know the brooding silver-haired elf prince on the cover.

“Well, whoever it is,” Rhysand drawled, his gaze meeting yours in the mirror, “I hope he knows that he’s a very lucky male.”

The afternoon passed quickly after that with you and Rhysand indulging in more shopping and champagne. With your pockets lighter and your head swimming, the two of you strolled side by side along the Sidra River as you walked home. Like a true gentleman, your friend insisted on carrying your shopping bags for you though the starlight dress wasn’t among your many purchases. Mostly because you couldn’t get that look on Rhysand’s face off your mind and you realized that you didn’t want to wear it if you didn’t get to see the twinkle in those violet eyes of his as you twirled.

The High Lord bid you goodbye and kissed your cheek. Before he winnowed from your quiet street, Rhys handed you your bags and departed with a wink.

You didn’t think much of it until you were putting away your purchases. Tucked underneath the skirts and corsets that you’d splurged on was the starlight dress. It was neatly folded and tied with a lavender ribbon. A note with familiar handwriting snagged your attention and you bit back a smile as you slowly unraveled it.

It would have been a shame to leave this at the store. Promise to wear it out even if I’m not there to witness it. A beautiful dress like this deserved to be worn by an equally beautiful female. Go outshine the stars, darling.

Yours,

Rhys

The smile that spread across your face remained even as you turned in for the night.

Cassian’s plan was foolproof.

The Illyrian general approached the task of asking you to be his Valentine with a well-thought out strategy, considering the pros and cons of each idea with the perspective of a battle hardened warrior. In the end, he settled for a simple yet effective plan.

“You do know that the goal is to actually bake the cookies, right?” you stated, batting Cassian’s hand away from the bowl of cookie dough.

Your flat was filled with the sweet smell of chocolate as you whisked the mixture in your hands. For all his preaching about maintaining a balanced diet, Cassian had devoured nearly half the bowl of cookie dough and you hadn’t even decorated the first batch.

He snatched the mixture from you and stirred faster, his strong arms flexing with each movement. “Says the female who devoured half a cup of chocolate chips when she thought I wasn’t looking.”

You gasped, feigning an affronted expression. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to shame a female for her eating habits? Someone should really teach you some manners, Cas.”

Cassian smirked. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes, you snatched the bowl back and hip checked the Illyrian general as you rolled out the dough. Cassian fell into place beside you, watching intently while you worked. Despite his sweet tooth, he managed to stay on task and follow your instructions. It was highly amusing to watch the large, heavily muscled warrior squint in concentration as he rolled the dough between his rough, calloused hands.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as Cassian’s brows furrowed in concentration. The two of you had always shared a love of cooking, having met at a master class in the city. The instructor had assigned you as partners and by the end of the night, you and Cassian managed to prepare a six course meal and strike up an instant friendship.

You’ve been crushing on him since then.

There was something endearing about his gentle manner, the softness that came out when he was doing what he loved. It was the complete opposite of what you’d expect from a battle hardened warrior, but it made perfect sense at the same time. You watched with a fond smile as Cassian leaned over the counter, his wings pressed tightly across his back, a pastel pink apron tied around his midsection, his shoulder length hair haphazardly thrown into a half bun with a few strands framing his ruggedly handsome face. Rich, hazel eyes were laser focused on icing the cookie in front of him.

You hadn’t realized how intently you’d been staring until Cassian looked up at you. He lifted a brow, the slit in the middle rising as he shot you a smirk. “See something you like, sweetheart?”

You stuck your tongue out, making Cassian chuckle. “Actually, I was critiquing your piping methods. It looks a little sloppy if you ask me.”

“No one’s ever complained about my piping before,” he said with a suggestive tone, “But you’re free to correct my form if you’d like.”

Heat crept up your cheeks, but you weren’t about to back down now. Not with the challenge dancing in Cassian’s molten gaze. “Let the professional show you how it’s done, Cas.”

Before you could think better of it, you grabbed his wrist. You tried not to gape at the obvious disparity of your hands, the way your fingers barely covered his palm, the roughness of his skin against your own, the warmth of his touch as you directed the piping bag over the surface of the cookie.

With shaking hands, you drew a sprawling shape with the red frosting and Cassian chuckled behind you as he beheld your creation. “Wonder what that could be,” he mused.

The rendering was a little off, but that was to be expected thanks to Cassian’s effect on you. Under the conditions, you thought you’d done a rather great job at imitating those giant wings of his.

“Looks awfully accurate,” he continued. “Been thinking about my wings quite a bit, have you?”

“It’s kind of difficult not to when they literally take up half the room.”

“I’ve been told they’re bigger than average.”

Fire snaked across your belly. “But not the biggest, right?” you said with a smirk. “I believe that honor belongs to Azriel.”

Cassian scoffed. “My brother has yet to prove that claim. Az refuses to measure.”

You giggled as your friend took the bait. “He doesn’t have to,” you said with an innocent smile. “Az just has big wing energy, you know?”

“Big wing energy?” Cassian repeated. His confusion made you burst into uncontrollable laughter. He rolled his eyes once he realized that you’d been toying with him. “You’re devious, you know that?”

“Perfectly aware, thank you very much.”

The Illyrian general chuckled to himself as you returned to your own pile of cookies. Pink, red, and white frosting were spread out across the marble countertop and the two of you worked in silence, wrists flicking in the air as you drew hearts, arrows, and other decorations befitting the upcoming holiday.

“Do you remember when Varian asked us to teach him how to bake a cake for Amren last year?” you asked, adding frills to your sugar cookie.

Cassian snorted at the memory. The Prince of Adriata was good at a lot of things, but baking was not one of them. With Amren’s newfound ability to actually consume food, he wanted to gift her with something of his own making. Though he did purchase a diamond the size of Cassian’s fist in case the cake went horribly wrong, which it did.

It would’ve been fine had Varian not insisted on making the entire thing by himself while the two of you watched. You had suggested something easy like a plain vanilla cake with strawberry filling, but the Prince was dead set on a molten chocolate lava cake, which was considered a generally advanced bake.

In the end, the desert that he had presented to Amren looked more like a heap of ash than anything remotely edible. Cassian had to give it to the Tiny Ancient One, though. She limited her grimace to two side eyes directed at the both of you before fixing her expression into a reluctant smile. You nearly wet yourself from laughing so hard.

“I honestly thought we were done for,” Cassian remarked. “Amren looked like she wanted to stick us in the oven after that first bite.”

“It’s not our fault!” you exclaimed, “Varian was adamant about doing everything by himself.”

“This is why the nobility have private chefs and cooks. They’re all helpless when it comes to cooking. No offense, duchess,” he added with a smirk.

You scrunched your nose up in distaste. While the noble title had technically passed to you upon your parent’s passing, you rarely used it outside of your emissary duties. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Not as much as Amren hated eating that cake,” he responded dryly.

The two of you doubled over in laughter. Wiping your tears away, you chuckled softly. “Love makes you do strange things, I suppose. Either way, it was a day of hearts that Amren will never forget.”

“Speaking of which,” Cassian said, training his voice into a casual tone, “The big day is coming up. Do you have any plans?”

He kept his eyes on his own cookie, the writing almost finished as he placed one final loop over the question. Cassian angled it towards you, the culmination of his plan coming to fruition. This was it. The big moment. The final play.

“I—um, well I—”

That was not a good sign. Cassian perked up at the hesitation in your voice. In all the time that he’s known you, you’ve never faltered. You were sure, decisive. It was one of the many qualities that he found incredibly sexy about you.

But now you looked like a deer caught in faelights.

Retreat. Fall back. Abort mission.

“Well, I’ve actually already got plans,” you declared in a rushed whisper.

His heart clenched in his chest. Of course. Of course he’d been too late. One of his brothers probably already asked and you’d said yes, which would explain why you looked so uncomfortable.

Cassian’s eyes widened as your gaze landed on him. He immediately looked down at the cookie and the silly question he’d carefully frosted over its surface.

Be my Valentine?

The pink and red cursive of his own handwriting mocked him. Cassian had to get rid of it. Now.

You stepped closer to him and any second you might look down and see his pathetic little question. Cassian only had one choice to make.

The Illyrian general stuffed the whole cookie into his mouth.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes widening at your friend’s sudden outburst. “Cas?” you asked incredulously. “What the hell are you doing? You’re gonna choke on the damned thing!”

Cassian coughed, wincing as fragments of the cookie scratched the back of his throat. Still, the embarrassment he felt in this moment paled in comparison to what he would’ve felt if you’d seen the writing.

He smiled sheepishly. “I was hungry,” he said, swallowing the last bits of his botched plan.

You furrowed your brows in concern before Cassian wiped his hands on the front of his apron. He grinned, elbowing your side. “So, you’ve got plans, do you?” he said even though pain lanced through his chest at the words. “Whatever you do, don’t bake him a molten lava cake.”

The two of you broke out into another conspiratory grin before you looked down at the cookie before you, angling it away from your friend. The wings you drew earlier flared out with the help of your magic and as they fluttered, you flicked your wrist to wipe away the doodles that you added.

Tiny pink and white hearts that matched the striped apron Cassian was wearing.

Unlike his brothers, Azriel didn’t see the need to resort to gimmicks.

The shadowsinger had always been meticulous about every goal he set his sights on and asking you to be his Valentine wasn’t any different. His best chance would be during your weekly meetup in the city and he was fully prepared to execute his strategic ten step system until he’d walked through the coffee shop to find you seated at your usual table.

Then you looked up at him and smiled and he forgot all about the damned system and nearly tripped on his feet trying to get to you. Before he knew it, a half hour had passed and he still hadn’t built up the courage to ask you the pressing question, but instead rambled about the mystery novel he’d just finished reading.

Not that you minded one bit.

One of the things you adored most about Azriel was your shared love of reading.

While the shadowsinger was by nature a silent male, he came alive when you talked about books. You loved listening to him talk passionately about a new novel he’d discovered, watching as those brilliant hazel eyes glowed golden, his shadows darting excitedly around his shoulders as though they too, found the change in his reserved behavior entirely enchanting.

That was the Azriel that greeted you in the cozy alcove of your favorite coffee shop, his beautiful face animated, his hands gesticulating as he explained the plot twist of his newest read, his normally cool, dark voice filled with warmth and excitement. Your friend was a brand new male and you were grateful to be able to witness such a breathtaking sight.

Azriel cocked his head, a smile toying at his lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You shook your head, forcing yourself out of reverie. “Nothing, you’re just cute when you’re passionate.”

The shadowsinger narrowed his eyes. “Cute? I’m the High Lord’s Spymaster. I can rip a male’s spine out without blinking.” He crossed his arms, clearly affronted. “I am not cute.”

“Yes, yes, you can be quite terrifying, shadowsinger.” He pouted as you reached across the table and tapped his nose. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re absolutely adorable when you get excited like this, Az.”

The Illyrian male playfully flicked your wrist. “You’re lucky I like you, angel. No one else would dare to speak to me like this.”

You rolled your eyes, snorting. “Just drink your damned hot chocolate before I hex your nose off.”

Azriel stuck his tongue out, but did indeed take a sip of his hot drink. It was a little known fact that the shadowsinger had a vicious sweet tooth, which was yet another similarity that you bonded over. You’d won him over by inviting him to Deja Brew, a little hole in the wall coffee shop tucked into a quiet street at the Palace of Hoof and Leaf.

The shop was quaint and homey, part coffee shop, part bookstore, complete with the most delicious hazelnut latte you’ve ever tasted and a collection of books that rivaled your own shelves. By far its best feature was its privacy. Within its walls, you never had to worry about being viewed as the shadowsinger or the emissary. You were simply two friends eating, reading, and laughing without worrying about garnering unwanted attention. No one even looked at you twice in here.

And the silence—comfortable, glorious, silence enveloped you like a warm hug.

You basked in it and you knew Azriel did too. As much as you loved your friends, the two of you were introverts at heart. Sometimes all you wanted to do was sit in a quiet room and read until the sun disappeared over the horizon. Thus, Deja Brew became a sacred haven for you and the shadowsinger.

Once a week, you had a recurring date to simply sit in silence and read. Most days, you barely spoke a word to one another aside from the initial greeting. It didn’t matter who arrived first. Your designated spot underneath a hidden alcove towards the back of the shop was supplied with the usual. For you, a hazelnut latte and an almond croissant. For Azriel, a hot chocolate and a cinnamon roll the size of your head.

The elder dryad who owned Deja Brew brought another refill of your drink, her kind eyes appraising you as she set the latte down. “Thank you, Esme,” you said with a smile.

Esme grinned back. “Anything for my two favorite customers.” She set a heart shaped danish between you and Azriel, a knowing look on her face.

“I don’t think we ordered this,” Azriel murmured.

“It’s on the house, dear.” Her eyes flickered over his face as a deep flush turned the tips of his ears pink. “In celebration of the day of hearts. I’m experimenting with some of my recipes. If you two don’t already have plans, you should stop by during the holiday and try some of the other pastries I have in store.”

It was your turn to blush. “That’s quite sweet of you, Esme. We’ll keep that in mind.”

As the dryad winked and disappeared beyond the alcove, silence settled between you and the shadowsinger. A different type of silence. A tense, adrenaline inducing silence that made your body crackle with electricity. Hazel eyes darted towards your direction and suddenly, your mouth felt as dry as hay.

Azriel gave you a lopsided grin, shrugging his shoulders in such an endearing way that you were almost tempted to close the gap between you and kiss him right then and there. But you didn’t.

Instead, you reigned those feelings in and focused on your book instead. Except you couldn’t focus on a single word. Not with the way Azriel was looking at you from across the table.

Hiding behind the safety of your book, you allowed yourself to sneak a glance at the shadowsinger. Azriel’s cheeks were a lovely rosy color, warm from the heat of the crackling hearth, its hazy red glow kissing the elegant planes of his face. His scarred hands, as beautiful as the rest of him, toyed with the spine of his book as the bright emerald green and soft earth of his irises swirled to combine into the most stunning color. The golden flecks in his eyes gleamed brighter as his shadows swirled around his wings.

They were moving about excitedly. One curled around his ear to whisper something. Azriel’s head snapped up, smiling as he found you openly staring at him.

It was one of those rare Azriel smiles. A smile that had taken you months and months to coax out of him. The force of it would have knocked you off your feet if you had been standing.

“I love it when you look at me like that,” Azriel said quietly. His voice was barely a hoarse whisper, but the words reached the depths of your soul nonetheless.

“How do I look at you?” you asked, curious.

The shadowsinger held your gaze. “Like you see me. All of me.” Something unreadable flickered in his expression. “And you’re not afraid of what stares back.”

You grinned, feeling your chest tighten with emotion. “I could never be afraid of you, Az. When I look at you, I think about books and cinnamon rolls and comfortable silence. I think about our secret little spot, away from the crowds, away from the noise. It makes me feel…safe.”

So much for containing your emotions. The revelation settled between you, but you didn’t regret saying them. Azriel deserved to know. He needed to know what this friendship meant to you.

The shadowsinger’s expression softened. He stared at you, weighing his words. “And should I expect to see you in our secret spot for the day of hearts?”

Your heart fluttered at the question, but you quickly tampered it down. First Rhys, then Cas and now Azriel. Every rejection felt bitter in your mouth, but you had no choice. You were not going to let your selfish desire ruin the wonderful relationship you had with each male.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to miss out on Esme’s new creations,” you said with a small smile. “As I’ll be indisposed during the holiday.”

Azriel’s expression revealed nothing, just mild curiosity. He smiled back, but it wasn’t like before. It was guarded, masked. Hiding layers of emotion that you couldn’t decipher.

“Very well, then.” Azriel stated in a cool, even voice. It might’ve made your stomach twist into knots had he not followed it up with a sly grin. “That leaves more sweets for me.”

Grateful to settle back into the comfortable silence, you spent the rest of the night reading. At least, you attempted to. You weren’t sure you retained any of the plot of the novel in your hands as you and Azriel walked through the empty streets of the quiet market square. While you usually would’ve winnowed while Azriel flew back to the House of Wind, neither of you seemed keen to end the night quite yet.

It was only when your flat building came into view when Azriel bid you goodnight. You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek, thanking him for—well, everything. For being him.

He descended down the stairs leading up to your front door, turning back at the last step. With his wings spread across his back, he looked at you over his shoulder.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Az?”

Azriel pinned you with his gaze. “You make me feel safe, too.”

With that, he shot into the skies, flying across the city of starlight and taking your heart with him.

On the day of hearts, the three brothers gathered.

Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys agreed not to reveal your choice until the morning of the holiday. The Illyrian warriors gathered at Rhysand’s office in the House of Wind, surveying each other with quiet contemplation.

This was the moment of truth.

“So?” Cassian prompted, “Which one of you did she say yes to?”

“Not me,” Rhysand said, his violet eyes shifting to the shadowsinger.

“It isn’t me, either.” Azriel declared.

A brief silence settled through the office. Cassian paced, his expression twisting into confusion. “If it’s not any of us, then who is it?”

“Maybe someone from the Day Court?” Rhysand theorized, “She was helping Helion out with his nobles during her last mission.”

“It can’t be,” Azriel said. “My spies would’ve reported any activity, friendly or otherwise, with the nobility.”

“Maybe it’s someone from Velaris, then.” Cassian interjected.

“Do you think she’s meeting up with him in the city?”

Rhysand tapped his fingers against his chin, a devious glimmer in his eyes. “There’s only one way to find out, brothers.”

“What?” Cas sputtered, “You mean spy on her?”

“We can’t do that,” Azriel argued.

“Why not? You’re the Spymaster, Az. It’s literally your job.”

The shadowsinger rolled his eyes at the High Lord. “I said we can’t, not that I can’t. You two are about as stealthy as two bulls in a china shop. I’ll scope out the situation and report back with my findings.”

Cassian snorted. “There’s no chance in hell that we’re staying back while you spy on Y/N. We want to come, too.” He cocked his head to Rhysand, who nodded in confirmation.

Azriel sighed in resignation. There was no use in arguing. His brothers would make a right mess of things if they attempted this on their own.

That was what the shadowsinger repeated to himself as the three of them staked out your flat from the rooftop across the street. Just a glimpse, Azriel thought. A glimpse of the male so he could go home and research every single fact about the poor bastard while sharpening his beloved dagger.

Rhysand and Cassian seemed to hold the same sentiment as they leaned over the railing, surveilling the empty street below. One misstep and his brothers would be hurtling towards the cobblestone steps. Azriel rolled his eyes.

“Cas, if you lean any further you’ll tip over,” Azriel said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And Rhys, stop pacing back and forth. You’re giving me a headache.”

“Wait!” Rhysand declared rather loudly. Clearly, the High Lord was not at all used to fading into the shadows. “There he is. Walking up to her door, right now.”

The three Illyrians hunched over, watching as you opened the door. You greeted the male with a bright, cheery smile. He seemed to be carrying a present of sorts. You gladly took it and Azriel waited for you to invite the male inside, but instead you placed a gold coin into his hand and bid him goodbye.

The shadowsinger moved, watching as you plopped down on the couch and tore open the box. He clenched his fist, only to release it a few moments later when you produced an array of food. Azriel recognized the logo of your favorite restaurant written on the takeout boxes.

“Is she…eating?” Cassian asked in confusion.

Rhys blinked. “This doesn’t make any sense. She said she had plans.”

You curled up on the couch, an egg roll in one hand and a romance novel in the other.

“Maybe she’s waiting for her date?” his brother said, scratching the back of his head. “Maybe he didn’t show?”

Azriel snorted. “If a male stood her up, do you really think Y/N wouldn’t be on her way to tear him to shreds rather than laying on the couch?”

Rhys chuckled. “Az is right.” He tapped his chin, “Besides, she never actually said she had plans with a male. We all just assumed. There must be another reason why she turned us all down.”

Cassian crossed his arms. “Well I’ve had enough of sneaking around. I say we go in there and ask her ourselves.”

“What?” Azriel asked incredulously, “You mean to march in there and demand answers from her? She’ll hex the three of us into the next century.”

Rhys grimaced. “You may be right brother, but at least we’ll know.”

“This is a terrible, horrible, idiotic idea.” Azriel grumbled his disapproval under his breath, but followed his brothers across the street.

He came to a stop behind Rhysand, who was watching Cassian knock on the door with a wary expression. A few moments later, you came to the door and gaped at the three males gathered outside of your flat.

“For the record, I tried to stop them.” Azriel announced in greeting.

Your gaze flickered from Cassian to Rhys to Azriel before you sighed in resignation as though you were expecting to face this exact situation. “Come in, boys.”

The three Illyrian warriors followed you into the cozy flat, settling into your couch. Rhysand crossed one ankle over his knee, Cassian sprawled his long legs in front of him, while Azriel leaned against the cushions, watching you.

“So,” you started warily, “I assume you’re all here for a reason.”

“We…were just stopping by,“ Cassian started. “Scoping out the mysterious plans you had for the day.”

You raised a brow. “By that, you mean you were all spying on me from the roof.”

Azriel groaned. He knew his brothers would give them away.

“We weren’t spying, darling.” Rhys said, cowering a bit when you glared at him. “We were simply satiating our curiosity.”

“I’ll satiate more than that if you don’t wipe that damn smirk off your mouth, Rhys.”

Cassian snorted. You turned on him with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even get me started on you, Cas.”

“And you,” you said, settling over Azriel’s calm expression. “I expected more from you, Az.”

He sighed. “Trust me, I have no idea how I got roped into this either.” Azriel offered you an apologetic smile. “Despite our questionable methods, we really just wanted to make sure that whatever lucky male you decided to spend the holiday with was respectful.”

“Imagine our surprise when you decided to ditch us for egg rolls and an elf prince,” Rhysand teased, nodding to the romance novel on the table.

You rolled your eyes. “At least elf princes don’t spy on me.” Pacing the living room, you pinned the High Lord with a withering glare. “Give me one good reason not to transform you into a slug.”

Cassian chuckled. “You wouldn’t dare. You like looking at our pretty faces too much.”

At that, you cracked a smile. “Idiot,” you said fondly, smacking Cassian’s knee. “You’re lucky that I have a soft spot for foolish Illyrian warriors.”

“Speaking of that,” Rhys said, segueing into the reason why they gathered here in the first place. “Why did you reject all of our offers? Though I was banking on myself as your favorite, I thought you’d at least choose Cas or Az once you turned down being my Valentine.”

You sighed. “It’s…complicated.”

“Try us, angel.” Azriel said softly.

“I said no because I wanted to say yes.” The three brothers exchanged a confused look, but waited for your explanation. “I wanted to say yes to all of you. Because I like all of you, but obviously I could only pick one and…I can’t. You all mean so much to me, in different, unique ways and I couldn’t bring myself to choose.”

Rhysand stared at Cassian and Azriel, seemingly conveying a mind to mind message. Cassian grinned while Azriel nodded in confirmation.

“Who said you had to choose?” Rhys said with a wicked smirk.

“W—what?”

“We all like you, too.” Cassian provided, “And we all want to make you happy. Nothing should stand in the way of that.”

“I don’t understand.”

Azriel grabbed your hand and caressed your knuckles with his thumb. “What Rhys and Cas are saying is that we’re more than open to explore between the four of us.” A mischievous smirk slid across that handsome face. “Besides, we’re all quite good at sharing, aren’t we?”

Rhys and Cassian grinned. The Illyrian general pulled your other hand while the High Lord twined his arms around your waist, enticing you in.

“What do you say, darling?” Rhys asked, his violet eyes flashing with desire. “My brothers and I are all on board with the idea, but the choice is up to you.”

Cassian nodded, tracing soothing circles on your palm. “Think about it, sweetheart. This way, you can have your cake and eat it too.”

You shivered as his words snaked down your spine. “How would this even work?”

Azriel chuckled, his gaze settling on Rhys. “Like this.”

You watched in suspense as the shadowsinger leaned in and pressed a hungry kiss against Rhysand’s lips. The High Lord responded with equal fervor, twining one hand through Azriel’s hair while the other gripped your right hip.

Not one to be left out, Cassian winked at you before palming Rhys through his expensive trousers. He twisted and kissed Cassian’s neck, eliciting a low growl from the Illyrian general.

Azriel chuckled as you bit your lip. “What do you say, angel?”

Rhys pulled you between his legs. “Make us the happiest males and be our Valentine, darling.”

Cassian brushed your cheek with his thumb. “Put us out of our misery, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, I’d like to be your Valentine.”

The three males smiled at you, but it was Azriel who tugged you into his lap and tilted your head back to give you a proper view of Cassian and Rhys as they continued kissing.

"I think you'll find that all three of us are more than generous Valentines."

A shiver went down your spine and you laid back as Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys pounced.

taglist: @viradeity @moony-thoughts @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @demirunner @swansworth @heart-defendor @momlo @mali22 @roselensage @searchingford@nessianxgwynriel@azriels-angels@brekkershadowsinger@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @mattte-black @marina468 @lillithathecathecat @highladyofillyria

#hehehe i love bat boy fluff #i want them all to kiss #azriel #rhysand #cassian #azriel fluff #rhys #rhysand fluff #cassian fluff #azriel fic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #rhys x you #cassian x you

507 notes · View notes

davesrightshoe · 7 months

Text

Corrected

Thrawn x Y/N (18+!)

cw: spanking, fingering, general mdom, inappropriate workplace dynamics

Authors Note: ahh.. so it was my birthday this weekend and I wanted to share a bit of Thrawn with y'all. This is the first smut one shot I've ever written so I'm pretty embarrassed but my friends gave me some IRL exposure therapy. I hope y'all enjoy!

You stood in front of the metallic doors of Thrawn’s office. Alone on the upper floors of the Chimera, the only sounds you heard were the ambient hum of a ship traveling across the galaxy and the nervous beating of your own heart. Your daily anxiety had spiked when you had checked your data pad near the end of your shift to find an urgent summons from the Grand Admiral. The note had held very few details, and it hadn’t been the first time he had asked for a private meeting. But this time, you knew you were in trouble because he had never summoned you to see him this late after hours, preferring to delay the meeting to the next day. You had a feeling that this all had to do with the disastrous morning you had had.

At 9:00 sharp, a delegation of high-ranking Imperial officers had arrived on the Chimera, and you had been tasked with greeting them and welcoming them onboard. Easy enough. What anyone had failed to brief you on was that it wasn’t a typical naval meeting, where Thrawn and some other Admiral would discuss strategies and plan future campaigns. No, instead you had to learn firsthand, as he walked down the shuttle ramp, that today’s esteemed guest was Orson Krennic. Director of a top secret project which you only knew the faint details of. But from the private remarks of Thrawn, you knew he was a pain in the ass to work with, a pompous brat who was too smart for his own good. He also was diverting critical funds from Thrawn’s personal projects which more than angered your Grand Admiral. Whatever he was working on, you doubted it mattered enough to get in the way of the Empire’s most talented naval strategist, but it seemed the Empire didn’t share your opinion.

Walking down, with his white cape flaring around him, he gaudily stepped onto the hanger floor and glared at the surrounding troops. God, he was pretentious. You and a unit of death troopers approached him, coming to a stop a few meters away. Before you had even finished your salute, he asked, “Where’s Thrawn?”

“The Grand Admiral is in his morning meeting with the board officers of the Chimera. He will join us after the tour.”

“Oh, kriff the tour, I came here to talk to Thrawn, and he won’t even meet me, craven bastard. Take me to him now!”

You flinched at the insult to your Admiral. “Sir, he does not wish to be disturbed presently. They are planning key details for our next attack.”

He glared down at me from his impressive stature. He really was a lot taller than you expected for someone everyone called a brat. Well, everyone being Thrawn, and Krennic was shorter than him. Maybe that’s why he hates Admiral Thrawn so much. “Well, I am ordering you, Lieutenant, to take me to him. His attack be damned.”

“Sir, I promise I will take you to him once he has finished. If you wish, we can go directly now to his office, and I will ask for his quick return.”

“I hope I do not have to explain to you the weight a Director has on even naval careers. It would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting. Take me to him at once.”

“Sir, I will speak with him now,” you say, pulling out your data pad and opening a commlink with Thrawn. “Grand Admiral, I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting, but the Director is requesting an immediate meeting with you.”

“Lieutenant,” his sibilant voice poured out the commlink’s speakers, “I am in a meeting with my chief combatants. I specified that we are not to be disturbed.” Even though his voice was as calm as ever, you could hear the warning in his tone. He had given you a clear specification of how this day would go, and you were messing with his plans. And if there was anyone whose plans you should not disrupt, it was most definitely Grand Admiral Thrawn.

“I’m sorry, sir, but he has been most adamant that he wishes for an audience now.” You risked a glance at the Director who stood waiting with crossed arms. All he needed to do was stamp his feet and pout his lip and he’d be the textbook picture of a petulant child.

“Well then, Lieutenant, you must find a way to entertain him until I am finished.” He quickly shut off the line, and you were left in silence with the prissy Director. Gathering a deep breath, you prepared to tell Krennic that he’d have to wait for the Admiral to be done.

“Director, he has clarified that he will not be disturbed. Would you like to accompany me to the Grand Admiral’s office where he will shortly return?” Maker, I hope he accepts this.

“Take me to him now,” he commanded.

“Sir, I cannot he has specified that ---”

“I don’t give a shit what he told you, some junior officer won’t stop me from talking to that bastard” and he stormed off into the main hallway. You ran after him, scrambling for something you could do to stop this from getting worse.

“Sir, if you would just accompany me to Admiral Thrawn’s office, I could arrange for you to ---”

“Is he in his office right now?”

“No, sir.”

“Then take me wherever the kriff he is.”

“Sir, even if I took you there you wouldn’t be able to get in without clearance.” You slid to a halt in the hallway when Director Krennic suddenly turned around and started marching towards you.

“I’m a damn director of the Empire, you think there is anywhere I can’t get in?” He angrily waved a hand around his head. “Every inch of this star destroyer is unrestricted to me. Your Grand Admiral included!”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you wouldn’t be able to enter. Grand Admiral Thrawn is very particular about the security. You need his personal access.”

“Do you have personal access?”

“y… yes,” you stuttered. You really didn’t want to take him to Thrawn after Thrawn had told you to leave him alone, but it wasn’t like you could lie to him.

“Well then, take me to the room, and let me in.” He said it as if it was the simplest thing in the world. As if you weren’t about to go against Thrawn’s explicit command.

“Sir, again, the Admiral told me that he was not to be disturbed.”

“And again, kriff what he said,” he snapped his head to a trooper. “Trooper, do you know where the Grand Admiral is?” The trooper hesitantly nodded. “Good man, now take me there before I have to pry open every door on this blasted ship myself.”

Maker, this was just getting worse and worse.

It hadn’t been very pretty, when the lock doors had opened on the Chimera’s boardroom to reveal you, the Death Troopers, and Director Krennic with your code cylinder in his hand. Thrawn’s eyes had locked on yours, and his dissatisfied and annoyed gaze burned into your soul. You felt deeply ashamed for failing him. And now 12 hours later, you were going to pay the price.

Telling yourself to pull it together, you put your code cylinder into the receiver outside Thrawn’s door. The sound of the door sliding open reminded you of the morning again, bringing an embarrassed flush to your checks.

“I’m glad to see your ashamed of your actions, Lieutenant.” Thrawn sat behind his desk with a displeased look. His frown cut your heart because you knew you had finally disappointed him. Unknown to many, but you actually had a soft spot for the Grand Admiral, and you always worked hard to please him. Only you knew the way your heart flipped when he would spare you a small smile or the rare “Good work, Lieutenant.” It was wrong to feel that way about your superior, but you couldn’t help but admire the talented Grand Admiral. He had a tremendous, ambitious mind, and a strikingly handsome face. Distinctly alien, but handsome nonetheless. But none of that mattered now, you had let him down and it hurt.

“Stand before me, Lieutenant” That was new, he usually told you to sit. Your heart sped up, you weren’t sure where this was going, but you had a bad feeling. You silently nodded and moved to a stiff parade rest before him.

Thrawn stood and moved around his desk to begin slowly pacing circles around you. Once he had reappeared in your sight line, he addressed you. “Have you nothing to say for yourself? I clearly dictated to you that he was not to enter my meeting, and yet you disobeyed me.”

“Sir, I’m deeply sorry, I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He asked the Death Trooper to show him the board room and then he took my code cylinder. I didn’t intend for him to ---” The words that had rushed so quickly out of your mouth were promptly cut off by Thrawn’s harsh tone.

“Enough, I am not looking for your excuses. Explain to me why you thought it was appropriate to blatantly disobey my orders.”

“I tried sir, I did. But he wanted to speak with you at once.”

“And why did you not bring him to my office to wait? That would have been the prudent thing to do.” The way Thrawn’s eyes cut through you hurt. He now doubted your ability to do a simple task. You had worked so hard to impress him and prove myself as a competent and dependable soldier; his disappointment was shattering.

“Sir, I asked him to accompany me, but he refused and demanded an audience.” But even as you said it, you knew Thrawn wouldn’t accept this. I gave it all away, I should have been smarter.

“And you could not think of anything better? You could have taken him here and told him you would go summon me. He would have been left to his own devices here where he was contained.”

“Sir, I—I’m sorry.”

“I have heard your apologies.” He huffed, “but it will not do. You are my officer, you must learn to manage these situations. I thought you were intelligent enough to serve me.” His red eyes flamed as he berated you for your incompetent handling of the situation. “Did I overestimate your abilities?”

“No sir!” Your voice cracked in panic “I promise I strive only to serve you. I failed you today, but I will do everything in my power to amend my behavior, sir.”

“We shall see.” A sliver of hope bloomed in your chest, was there still a chance for you? “Now, get on your knees.”

“Sir?” You asked, confused. Where was he going with this?

“Oh, dear. Is today to be such a difficult day for you, Lieutenant. I said, get on your knees.” He came up behind you and pressed his hands down on your shoulders until you bent your knees and landed on your kneecaps. “Good. But for the rest of our time together, I would prefer not to repeat myself. Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir,” you were shaken. You had no idea what was going on. This reminded you of some of your more illicit nighttime fantasies, but Thrawn was never this angry or commanding. You always imagined him as strict but with a loving hand.

“Very well. Then we may begin” He removed his hands from your shoulders, and they burned from his contact. “What did I specify to you about today’s meeting?”

“You said not to disturb you, sir.”

“Yes, and then why was I disturbed?”

“I—I, I didn’t follow your orders, sir.”

“Correct, you let that ass interrupt my briefing.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you were starting to tear up. All the anxiety and stress from the day was starting to catch up with you, and you couldn’t handle Thrawn’s displeasure with you right now. You just wanted to make it all better and go back to being his perfect assistant. “Please, sir, let me make it up to you. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Oh, do not fret, my dear, we shall see about that.” He pushed a hand into your hair, grasping the back of your head and pushing gaze down at the floor. He crouched down, bringing his mouth a centimeter from your ear. “As it is, I think you should pay with your ass, as they say, ‘an eye for an eye’.”

You jumped turning to look at him, but he was faster, tightening his grip on your hair and keeping your eyes pinned on the ground. He tsked. “Ah, no, Lieutenant, you must be good and accept your punishment. Did you not just say you wanted to ‘make it up to me.’ Now, listen well and do as I say, or else I will be very displeased.” Hearing Thrawn’s words over you brought goosebumps to your skin. You couldn’t believe he was really saying this to you.

“Yes, sir.” Your voice came out hoarsely, even if you were brave enough to admit it, a bit husky.

“Good Girl. Now get over my desk.”

Your core throbbed. This was like every sick fantasy combined together and you weren’t sure if you could take it all, but at the same time you would die if it stopped.

“I think fifteen will be enough to reinforce for you the importance of obeying your Grand Admiral. Do you agree, ch'otcavurt in'a?”

“Yes, sir.” You were starting to wonder if this day was just a horrifyingly realistic dream, a figment of your unconscious psyche that had begun to unravel after so many years of a high stress and low sleep environment.

“Good, let us begin.” He unbuckled her belt and pulled down her regulation trousers to expose her underwear. Embarrassed, she tightened her grip on the edge of the desk and braced for it to begin. But instead of a harsh sting, she was rewarded with the soft touch of his hands as he slid her panties down. Only the extended edge of her tunic covered her bare ass. Her nerves felt like they were riding the razer edge of the fabric covering her from flashing Thrawn.

“We can’t let this get in the way,” he said, folding the tunic over and removing the final protection of her dignity.

You jumped at the initial strike, gasping from the shock and pain. Definitely not a dream! “Shhh be still, this is a punishment.” You took deep breaths trying to prepare yourself for the next blow, but even as it came you knew you were done for. You doubted he was using his entire strength, even still the sharp sting threw off your concentration. All thoughts of Krennic and the morning were shoved away, as you lay in nervous anticipation of the next blow.

Thrawn took his time, giving you ample opportunity to tense and untense your muscles before his eventual slap came. He varied the location and pressure, not wanting you to acclimate to the punishment. The fourth strike brought out a pained groan. And on the seventh Thrawn gave you a particularly hard smack to your right cheek. You openly moaned.

“Are you enjoying this, Lieutenant?” You couldn’t see his face, but you had a suspicion he was smirking. You ground your forehead into the desk and pulled yourself together to respond.

“No, sir,” you strained to keep your voice even, despite how desperately you wanted to start begging him to fuck you.

“Wrong choice, Lieutenant, that’s another added for lying.” He brought down his hand to give you a matching red handprint on your left ass cheek. And then you heard something that took your breath away. Thrawn groaned. “That’s right, Ch'itses'o bustucah, take your punishment. Your ass is so beautiful with my hand printed on it. Like a painting. I should take a photo and hang it above my desk.” His hand went down your back, massaging your sore behind. “Ahh, but no photo would be worthy, as I have seen the original print.” He chuckled at his own joke and smacked you again.

You hissed and pushed your ass back towards him, openly inviting him to continue his onslaught. “Now this is very encouraging. My disobedient brat is eager for her correction. Only a few more until all is forgiven.” And the air was filled with the staccato slaps of Thrawn’s hand on your flesh. The last blow he aimed at your left check, leaving a flush red handprint in its wake.

But just as quickly as they had rained down smacks, his hands dropped to softly caress and soothe the sore skin on your backside. “Hush now, Ch’eo visahot, you did very well. Let your Grand Admiral take care of you.” His calming words soothed your nerves, as your body fought the wave of endorphins and adrenaline which the spanking had raised in you. Your mind was at rest, and all of your stress and anxiety was replaced by a quiet contented buzz. After a few minutes, his massaging and gentle support had you fighting the weighted pull of sleep. “Come here, darling, stand up now. You deserve to rest on something softer than my desk.” Thrawn’s hands slipped under your hips encouraging you to put your weight on him as he guided you around his desk and to sit on his lap in his armchair.

You hissed at the contact of your sore ass with his thigh. The softness of his chest though encouraged you to lean your back into him. He wrapped an arm around your waist and stroked your upper thigh, which twitched in response at the proximity of his hand to your cunt. With his ever observant eyes, your nervous convulsion didn’t escape him, and he repeated the action. You turned your face towards him to find a smirk resting on his lips. “Would you like me to stop, Besbi.”

“No,” you whispered, turning your face back to watch as his hand crept up your thigh till he stopped at the apex of your legs. He waited there stroking small up and down trails, working you up but never giving you exactly what you wanted.

“What did you say? You must speak louder,” he intoned, his hand never straying from his teasing motions.

“Please don’t stop,” you managed to say without stuttering. Thrawn rewarded you by finally swiping a finger across your folds. The contact stole a whimper from your lips. He answered you, by deepening his contact, swirling his thumb over your clit before plunging his fingers into you. Your gasp was accompanied by his groan as you clenched around his fingers.

The alternatively curled and twisted his hand to stimulate you. A quick study, he learned how to draw out loud moans from you within minutes. Soon you were writhing on his lap, completely heedless of the pain from your spanking. Thrawn praised you, telling you how beautiful you looked on his fingers. The combination of his words and actions pushed you to your release. Your climax came quickly, with you gasping his name.

Turning your boneless body around, Thrawn pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Ch'itt'teehah ch'eo ch'acah”. Without thinking too hard about the impropriety of the entire situation, you slipped your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest. You didn’t know if you could think about anything too hard at that moment, completely drained as you were. Thrawn let you take your time to recover, gently drawing circles into your back and whispering Cheunh phrases to lull you to sleep.

Dividers from @cafekitsune

#thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn fanfiction #thrawn #davesrightshoe #thrawn smut

64 notes · View notes

ivystoryweaver · 1 year

Text

Based on a request by @mintellaine: Moon Boys married prompts #6&7: being able to predict the other's moves & predict the other's words

Content: f!reader, established relationship, action, violence, fluff, kissing, mentions of food

Word Count: 805

Moon Knight's cape swished valiantly behind him as his muscular thigh thrusted outward in a punishing kick. The foul-smelling, ghastly supernatural creature yelped, its phantom bones crunching as it careened toward you.

"Drop!"

"Yep!"

Your body had already instinctively reacted. Sprinting forward, you dropped to your knees, skidding under the creature. Raising your arm, you dragged your curved dagger through its hairy abdomen.

Your enemy's ear-piercing shriek momentarily disoriented you, propelling you into a stumble, rather than you flipping to your feet with your usual grace.

Before even your shoulder could graze the bruising asphalt, a white gauze-wrapped arm slid underneath you, absorbing your fall. Tucking you in tightly to the solid safety of his chest, the two of you hit the rooftop with an "umph."

Heavy breaths pushed past your lips as you came down from your adrenaline rush, cocooned carefully inside your husband's white cape. His glowing, moonbeam eyes narrowed into slits as he inspected you for injury.

"Give me a second?" You panted, grateful for his protective embrace.

"Yeah, I can do that," he answered, his mask disappearing.

"Hi," you breathlessly whispered, smiling at his handsome face.

"Hey," he casually returned, admiration etched into his cute smirk. "That was a hell of a move."

"Thanks, I - "

" - learned from the best," he grinned.

Pulling you to your feet, Marc grasped your arms to steady you.

Suddenly, white gauze melted away as a shining, three-piece deliciously tight suit appeared.

"Darling, you were amazing," Steven bragged...but before he could compliment your attire, which he was always prone to do, even mid-fight, his warm brown eyes widened in panic.

You were already ducking as the word left his mouth. Scrambling away from this newest threat, you heard the crunch of bone.

White, gloved fists brutally connected with the jaw of yet another vile creature. Where were these things coming from?

Rolling out of the way, you scurried around behind the beast, mindful of the roof's edge. But before you could attack with your daggers, it lunged backward, knocking you dangerously close to your doom.

Steven, whose white mask was in place now, leapt into the air brandishing his signature heavy batons. "Get away from her, you!"

Having gained the creature's attention, it turned and attacked him with a screeching howl. Steven became a flurry of moonlit precision, striking blow after kick after thud with his batons. This gave you time to attack from the back. With a cry of fury, you lunged forward with all your might, sinking two daggers into the creature's gangly back.

It screeched - its ghastly body arching in agony as Steven tipped his sassy chin in a final salute. "That's m'wife, mate."

Then the creature was ash.

You stood across from your husband - a dagger in each hand, hair a wild mess, chest heaving, hoping that was your final fight tonight.

"Wow...look at you," Steven marveled, his mask disappearing once more.

"I probably look as crazy as that thing...before it disintegrated," you laughed, tucking your daggers away.

"Not possible," he chuckled. "But let me guess: you're bloody starving." You always were after a good fight.

With a cute shrug, your nose crinkled in delight, "You read my mind."

"Dumplings?" He proposed, knowing how much you loved them.

"Mmm, the way to my heart," you murmured, yanking his tie and pulling his lips to yours.

The adrenaline of a fight always brought some spice to your marriage, and your knees gave out a little as Steven's tongue ran along the seam of your lips. Opening your mouth to him, you felt the beautiful proof of his life - his hot, panting breath, mingling with the slightly salty tinge of sweat from his exertion.

He was safe. And all yours.

Strong arms swept you up into a possessive embrace. Marc. His tongue licked in hotly into your mouth, tangling with yours, as the fullness of his lips caressed your own deliciously.

"Do we have to get vegan dumplings?" He pouted, nibbling your lips one at a time.

"Babe, you know that place on the corner always adds pork dumplings to Steven's vegan order."

With one final kiss, his mask and hood cloaked his face once more.

"Ready?" Marc proposed, nodding down to the street below.

"Do you even have to ask?" You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck trustingly. The moon was full tonight, so its Knight would glide across the sky with ease.

With you tucked closely to his side, Marc leaped into the night sky. The thrill of flying...or falling gracefully overwhelmed you, making you giggle childishly in delight.

"This is my favorite way to travel!" You called over the whoosh of air around you.

"Thanks, but - "

" - don't tell Jake, I know," you finished his sentence, knowing how much Jake liked to drive you around (and drive you wild).

IvyStoryWeaver's 500 Follower Celebration

My Masterlist

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

392 notes · View notes

zweetpea · 11 months

Text

Please don’t leave me alone!

(happy birthday my sweet angel)

Summary:

Fyodor my Baby 😭. This whole thing is very Tangled inspired. Tangled is art though so it’s all good 😌. Content warning: Self deprecating thoughts, Fyodor nearly dies. Some spicy implications at the end.

“Fyodor! I made you some tea!” You cheered from the doorway of his office. “Fyo… Fyodor… Fedya~” you whispered that last one seductively into his ear.

“Is my wife being needy?” He turns around and pulls you into his lap.

“No! I’m just going to miss you. Do you have to go on this stupid work trip and leave me alone?” You pouted.

“It’s for the greater good. You want the world to be free of sin don’t you?”

(A/N: greater good? I am your wife! I’m the greatest good you are ever gonna get!)

“I do. I know that by doing this peace will be brought to the world and we’ll be one step closer to bringing about a paradise for all mankind to cherish. Just please be careful love.”

“I will be, little mouse.” He smiled as he kissed your cheek.

The day he left he gave you a long passionate kiss on the lips.

“I love you Fyodor. I always will.”

“I love you too, little mouse. I will be back in a week’s time.”

That “one week” turned into two months. During which you cried yourself to sleep every night worrying to death about if he’d be okay. Some night you’d wake up in a cold sweat, have nightmares about him leaving you, him dying, him having an affair, him dying, him laughing to his friends about how stupid and pathetic and selfish you were, him dying! You had that one a lot. Various different ways popped into your head. Drowning, stabbing, beating, being shot, mauling, heart attack, an ability killing him.

On one fateful night though, you heard rustling coming from your basement. You went into the kitchen, grabbed a frying pan and crept into the basement. You heard a voice coming from your husband’s office down their.

“Where’s the first ad? No no no! Don’t you go dying on me!”

You slowly slinked in, the lights off and the room only slightly illuminated by the many screens and monitors that adorned your husband’s desk. You tiptoed to the assailant and smacked him on the back of the head with your frying pan. You quickly ran to the light switch and flipped it on to see who had dared to enter your house.

“Fyodor? And a… clown? Wait… FYODOR! Your home! Oh no you’re bleeding!” You ran over to him, and chanted the incantation to unlock your special ability.

“Moonlight bright and pure, lend me powers divine. Give us second chance, let us have more time. Just a minute more, a second too would be fine. Please don’t leave me alone, give me back what’s mine. You once were mine.”

“Did you miss me that much?” He smirked.

You buried your head in his chest crying, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re right. You always are.”

“So since you have a new arm, can I keep the old one?” The other man said.

You both turned to him. “I’m sorry, who are you?” You ask.

“Little mouse, this is my work colleague, Nikolai.”

“So this is your wife. She’s very pretty. He talks about you so often, whenever he’s not talking about his plans he rambles about you. Honestly though, his descriptions of you don’t do you justice.”

“Nikolai, get out of my house.”

“What about the arm?”

“If it gets you to leave me alone with my wife then you can keep it.”

“Alrighty then. I’ll see you around.” Nikolai disappeared into his cape.

Fyodor stood up and pulled you with him. “Love be careful. You nearly died.”

He shushed your concerns with a kiss, it was passionate and you couldn’t help kissing back. “Come on. For two months I’ve failed to fulfill you. I plan to make up for it tonight.”

“Fedya!” You blush.

He chuckled. “I love you, mouse.”

“I love you, too.”

#bsd fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor x reader #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor angst #fyodor dostoyevski #fyodor Dostoyevsky angst #fyodor fluff #Fyodor Dostoyevsky fluff #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x you #fyodor Dostoyevsky x y/n #Fyodor Dostoyevsky x you

91 notes · View notes

hoarah-babylon · 3 months

Text

First DLC session completed!!!!! Gonna talk about my findings under the cut

Waiting for me at the cocoon was a familiar face from the trailers. Hi Leda!!!!!!! Got to have a closer look at her armour, her belt looks just like Miquella's ring.

The converging gold threads on the cape made me think of the Miquella's needle, and also the Godslayer Greatsword

She told me to go touch his wrinkly arm so I did. I was expecting a cutscene but no, just gave it a little tap and off we were! Which is also fine, I think I was just hoping for the interaction with the arm to reveal something about the nature of how we got to the shadow realm.

When I got there though..... man

I honestly wasn't expecting my own reaction when I got to the first open area, but I cried. Like actual tears. I just love this game and experiencing new things from it I don't know man it just took me by surprise, I've been having a hard time lately too so I think it was partly relief just to have something that makes me feel happy and inspired. Thankful for this game! Ok anyway

THE WICKER MAN ! I did try fighting him later on but he's so tough. I'm leaving him for later for sure, I have no idea what to do with him right now. His attacks are undodgeable and flatten me almost immediately, I'll figure that out later. He's cool tho. I think an item I found later called him a 'fire golem'

FOUND THE BESTIES ! They had a health bar so I could have tried to kill them but I didn't even try because they are my friends. Anyway they were in front of a Mausoleum with a boss in it which surprised me I was like ALREADY?????? I think it was called Blackgaol Knight. He took me a WHILE. I kept telling myself go away and come back later, but I was locked in, like no he's going to perish now. But I got him eventually and the reward was great. I mean I can't use any of it with this build but the item descriptions... they got me thinking

Warriors of what army/loyalty? What does it mean to lose your name, or your heart? This wording is very... intriguing to me. The only other mention of hearts in ER I remember off the top of my head (aside from dragon hearts) is the DLC trailer that said Miquella shrives clean the hearts of men. HM.

So they lose their hearts by choice, but what does it mean to lose your heart? Like, literally? Figuratively? Spiritually? But I found this next part to be the most intriguing. The 'light of birth'... WHAT. DO YOU MEAN. The concept of birth in TLB has always confused me tbh, so to have something directly reference birth caught my eye immediately. And why is it apparently so revered by these knights? I have to find out more. Mama lets research :) I don't remember where I heard/read this but I remember it being theorised births came from the Erdtree rather than the typical way humans are born usually. Could it be these knights revere birth as it used to happen, as opposed to how births came to be post-Golden Order creation? Hm.

I found one of the enemies that was posted before release! The one with the uterus imagery. This one. I was surprised it was a regular enemy, from the pic we saw it looked like a boss to me. It was just chilling on one of the monuments in the field of wheat. 'Invoke divinity' stands out to me, mainly because I can't figure out what it means. If it invokes divinity, what does it define as divine? It can't be anything to do with the Erdtree, because it clearly rejects it. Super interesting. The fact it also makes you weaker to Sleep is also v interesting

New weapon type (I think)! I got jumpscared by a screaming enemy and they dropped this. I'm ngl though I think he was a bit bugged, he wasn't dodging any spells so I beat him pretty easily. oops. I'm noticing a lot of bestial enemies and items though... I picked up a bestial ash of war later on too. Who are 'the horned warriors'?

Was looking out over a cliff-edge and saw this dead dragon... it honestly gagged me because I did not expect to see dragons. Which in hindsight is maybe a bit silly of me considering Messmer has what looks like Draconic eyes. But anyway

I found what looked like a church of Marika. It was called something like 'church of consolation'. On the lead-up there were several of Messmer's warriors resting in the road. They weren't aggro to me unless I attacked first. The bigger knight in the church dropped a huge hammer that was imbued with holy damage. One of the smaller knights dropped a chestpiece

The phrasing 'forced to wage war' is intriguing - where did these people come from? Exactly how and why were they forced?

I found this nearby the church and it gagged me a bit. First of all mad that this kind of item exists, I wonder how many there are. Secondly, Marika made these for Messmer... but never again????? I'm so intrigued by their relationship, I need to understand their dynamic IMMEDIATELY

Honestly thank god they're giving us more Larval Tears. I was stressing about this even though I probably won't end up using them... we'll see what weapons I pick up. I wonder if they replenish at these sites or if they'll still be a finite resource

Shit's fucked. These people were done dirty by Messmer

But consider: this place is gorgeous despite the horrors

Found the first of Miquella's crosses! And met another follower of Miquella... why does he hate me :( is it cus I'm Tarnished? But like. I don't like the Erdtree either dude. You don't know me!!!!!!!!!! Nice armour tho. And accent. And thanks for showing me where the crosses are. I guess. Map referred to him as a 'hornsent'

Like. Ok. Why don't we just be friends. Mysterious guy. Whatever like I care.

!!!!! I thought I took a pic of the description but whatever it said something along the lines of 'a young shoot heavy with Empyrean blood. Left behind by the wounded Miquella'... so he's wounded even in this shadow realm, whatever form he's in. What are you doing fam... what's the deal....... I gotta know

Met Freyja! She was nicer. I love her Spartan gear. She said she once fought alongside Radahn (!!!) and didn't tell me much else. But she seems chill af

Now this guy... I've gotta know his deal. Ansbach, what do you MEAN you were formerly in service to Mohg. And now you're following Miquella. WHAT IS THAT BROTHER. I just... the implications???? Why did you leave Mohg? When? Were you in on the whole abduction thing? Why does your helmet/beard combo kinda make you look like Cthulhu? I have questions.

Man-fly village. Uh........ yep don't like this.

That last line sticks out to me, because of the whole, you know, Miquella the Kind thing. Be kind and ya don't get turned into a fly. Cool cool I'm uncomfortable

Oh cool the thing on the wicker ma- THE FELL GOD OF FIRE???? Is this referring to the Giant's outer god? Or one we haven't heard of yet, one that Messmer is aligned with? Haunts the sagas of the hornsent... isn't that what the guy that was shit-talking me earlier is? What is his deal. I'm not immune to a mysterious man

Blue skies?? in MY shadow realm???? it's more likely than you think :)

I also found a ghostflame dragon too which was cool but he has SO much health. I simply did not have the patience for it at that moment. But it's cool seeing so many different things from different backgrounds and allegiances.

My fave thing about the followers so far is how everyone comes from such diverse backgrounds, it's in-keeping with Miquella's whole ethos of welcoming all. But... why are they all here? How? Why has Miquella 'called' to them? Has Miquella called to them all? Now I have all these strangers motivations to worry about as well as the blonde baby's. But really I'm so excited to find more. This already has my brain whirring and I haven't even stumbled across a major boss yet!!! fromsoft you've done it again!!!!!!

47 notes · View notes

sorryseraphim · 7 months

Text

She would greet it like an old friend if emptiness could devour her entirely.

Hunger and exhaustion finally took over the sadness that consumed her for the last three days. She stirred lightly from her bedroll, which Helene had purposely moved out of everybody's view after their return from the dank and horrid abode where the Netherbrain resided.

She had isolated herself from everyone else when Enver died three days ago.

The memory of his sudden death replaying inside her head tormented her even in sleep, that she had stopped closing her eyes to avoid them. But even when she was awake, she could still see how his body slumped to the ground, his face blackened and twisted, forever contorted into a scream.

How she stomped her fist in vain across his chest, hoping it would restart his heart, but to no avail. She had screamed, trashed even when they tried to take her away, cradling his lifeless body, desperate for even a tiny bit of evidence that she could save him. They stowed her away along with the tyrant’s once warm body, just before the brain tried attacking them.

Helene had wailed, tears streaming from her cheeks, raining down Enver’s unmoving face, but he wouldn’t be able to hear or see it. She had lost her voice three days ago; she might also lose her heart entirely in the following days or so.

Astarion almost never left her side the first day she had begun her grieving. He had tried to console her, brought food she had barely touched, and even cried along with her, hoping she would notice how every time her voice cracked from trying to speak or began crying again, his frozen heart would shatter too into a million more pieces.

And yet, she remained cathartic, oblivious of Astarion’s effort: her silence echoing across the camp, the unusual quietness putting a lump to everyone's throat as their leader remained in a state of despair.

On the third day of his death, Helene finally had the courage to approach one soul she trusted the most from camp, just as the campfire started crackling during supper, startling everyone around her as her ghostly figure, ashen and still in her camp clothes from three days ago, started walking towards Jaheira.

The old Harper caught her as she slumped by the entrance of her tent; Helene's eyes were bloodshot, her crimson orbs darker than usual, looking up at her like a child looking for an answer from a God, clinging for dear life.

“Why… why does it hurt?”

“Have you never known hurt or pain, child?” Jaheira whispered as she stroked her hair, brushing her trembling lips as tears started threatening to spill again.

“I thought I knew pain, but I don't know what this is. I can't get rid of it. Please help me get rid of it.” Helene struggled to speak, her chest heaving as the weight of grief started to suffocate her lungs once more.

Jaheira’s hand cupped her cheek, looking at her with those stern eyes that had seen far more sorrow than hers, reflected through the wrinkles on her face, her unwavering tenacity shared through wisdom. “You had hoped. A selfish decision at that, given the gravity of his crimes, and yet you still went behind everyone's back to accept his request. And that hope now shattered before you, is your punishment.”

“I just want this to end.” She pleaded, uttering the same words over and over, clinging to the Harper’s arms, tears soaking her shirt as her eyes gave out once more. The rest of the camp convened around the mournful scene; none dared but the pale elf to come near Helene, who was now a wallowing mess, her face buried against her palms as Jaheira let Astarion take over and wrap her in a cape, his arms around her as he showered her with comforting words, drowning again from despair.

“My dear, you will be fine. No one will hurt you again while we’re here. While I’m here.” Astarion shushed above her weeping, arms clinging onto his neck as he carried her frail body away from the crowd, concealing her away from everyone’s gaze once more in his tent. She was still sobbing as he laid her down, tucking her with the cape, gently brushing the hair out of her face.

“I’m sorry,” Helene whispered between the hiccups, her voice scratchy from screaming and wailing that hadn’t yet recovered. Astarion let out a pained smile, still brushing her hair with his delicate fingers, a gesture that used to calm Helene when the Urge struck now served as futile at the moment of her grief.

“I know.”

Her heart went heavy at the realization that he had now realized the depth of her betrayal. How she had traded her newly built life with Astarion for the one she had once shared with Enver, rescinded by a miscalculation of their plan—-her plan— now fell to pieces. “I’m sorry if I–”

“I know. Rest, my sweet. I will still be here when you wake up tomorrow.”

Rolling to her back, her sobs started to subside, blending with the evening quietness until there was no more sound coming from where she lay. In the dark, she chased what little light spilled inside the confines of the tent, stretching her hands to gaze at her fingers where two rings had now slipped.

One signet ring with a single ruby on it, Enver’s gift to her many years ago he had relived inside her head one night she probed his mind, memories flooding and overwhelming her to chase and want her old life.

The other was her very own gift: a golden ring band she once bestowed to him as a symbol of her promise back then to be his, and only his.

The gift returned to her, but not her memories. And most certainly, not Enver now that his soul is trapped under the lord of tyranny’s hands, impossible for her to reach.

Her old life, now forlorn and voided of ever returning.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #enver gortash #gortash x durge #lord enver gortash #lord gortash #bg3 gortash #dark urge x gortash #durgetash #durge bg3 #bg3 durge #durge spoilers #durge #gortash #bg3 enver gortash #angst

32 notes · View notes

disfrutalakia · 1 year

Text

Don't mind me, just doing a silly little appearance headcanon for Forever cause I'm trying to design him. Under a read more cause I don't want to take too much space in the tags lmao and not everyone might want to see my Forever headcanon

When arriving at the island

- hair was medius, below the shoulders but not very long always on w messy braid

- blonde but like those really yellow blondes thay made it look loke he dyed his hair (he didn't)

- very tall and kinda soft he had a bit of a belly and no defined muscles, extremely broad shoulders

- pale skin with scars on his neck that look like bite marks and a bit sunburnt

- has top surgery scars

- elfic ears

- wears nothing but the akatsuki shorts and a necklace with the ring of his ex fiancee (brunim)

- has tattos, one of a dragon that goes from his shoulder to his wrists, one of a small heart with a B under his left ear and then finally one of the sun on his hip

Destroying the desert

- muscles aquirred from all the time breaking sands

- hair is a bit longer now, almost to his shoulders, he usually puts up on a ponytail

- still blonde but now a lighter shade because of the time under the sun

- has a tanned skin now with some sun burns

- still wears the same from before, but has put the necklace away

Cellbit's betrayal

- His hair is longer now but without all the shine, it's usually on braid that reaches his waist

- wears a suit now, to look more put together since he would be the head of the order for a time

- dark circles are under his eyes from lack of sleep

And he doesn't look as tanned like before, what remain are the freckles but they are very sublty

- the top of his left ear has been cut during a code monster attack

- he now trains fight regularly and has strong muscles and a muscular figure

Election period

- hair is down with just some few braids in between, shiny and soft

- starts wearing jewelry, he is especially fond of rings and earrings in silver.

- his outfit is very traditional, with a poet blouse, that was always open at least 2 buttons and tailored black trousers

- started experimenting with makeup, has skme blush and orange eyeliner

President

- his hair is braided in a beautiful updo

- his eyes adorned with eyeliner once again

- the suit is tailored to his figure and the brazil flag hangs like a cape from his shoulder

- he wears his presidential wing along with a simple silver ring that a certain someone gave him as a birthday gif

Post happy pills

- same suit from before but now looks a bit larger on him, since he lost some weight while on the pills

- dark circles are worse than before, since he barely sleeps

- he has some stretch marks on his cheeks that are very faint but you can see them if you get very close

- he had burn scars on his hands from all the mines he build

- and some around his arms from when he tried to explode himself inside that cage, they are very new and sensitive.

- he still wears the president ring and his mysterious silver ring

#qsmp #qsmp forever #qsmp headcanons

64 notes · View notes

bluexbrry · 1 year

Text

His breath hitched, enchanted by how your gown moved along side you gracefully. Your long, snowy cape following you yet gently waving in the air as you take slow steps towards him. His knees gently bucking and heart banging against the doors of his heart. His bought back to earth by his best man, Ranpo, who swung his arm around Poe's shoulder whispering in his ear how he's a lucky man. Poe's already rosy cheeks turned darker as you got closer and closer to the altal. You passed your white lilly bouquet to yosano as you took your loves hands in yours. The only thing separating you guys' touch is the white gloves you both had on. As you look into his grey eye, you were pretty sure you saw a gently twinkle as your e/c met his. You smiled gently at him as the officiator gently coughed to get your guys attention. Both of you guys freezing up and turning to them with a chuckle escaping both of you as the officiator began. After your vows it was his turn, you couldn't belive that he was gonna talk in front of other people loudly. He turned his face back at you and tucked your soft H/C lock behind your ear. "Y/N, ever since we met on that night by the bridge in yokohama, I've been certain there was no one else meant for me. The way you smiled at me as you gave me my morning coffee. The way you listened to my plans about how I'm going to overtake Ranpo next time I see him. The way you swayed your hips as we danced in the middle of the fresh morning rains before falling ill and getting told off by Francis. The way you would stroke my hair after I've had yet another anxiety attack or just had a bad day. Ever since that I just knew I had to kneel down on one knee and make you officially mine. Call me selfish but I wish to never see you with another. So from today onwards my last name is now yours to share, and for us to share new memories with it. Thank you for giving a man like me a chance." He slipped the rose gold band on your finger as he gave you a gently peck on your hand. Everything blurred out for you both until you heard the you may kiss the bride and the bells jingling. He gently cupped you face with his left hand as he brought your lips to meet his halfway there, everything and everyone completely disappearing leaving you two to your own thoughts as you sealed away the love you shared.

#bsd fluff #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #poe x reader #edgar allan poe x reader

67 notes · View notes

megalony · 1 year

Text

I Know the Solution

This is a new Jonah Hauer-King imagine requested by the lovely @mystiqueprincess I hope this is what you wanted hun. Any requests or comments would be lovely.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread

@jonahhauer-kingg @melaninjoys @luna2034 @mystiqueprincess @fangirl-tothemax

Masterlist

Summary: Jonah has a girlfriend, but she's jealous of how close he is to (Y/n) and he just can't seem to leave her alone even when he knows it's wrong.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The volume of the music could be heard all the way down the end of the street, that told Jonah just what kind of party he was going to be walking into when he arrived. It still shocked him to feel the beat of the music pulsing through his veins and thudding along with his heart when they walked in the door.

It had been a while since he came to a party like this, and deep down, he knew the only reason he had agreed to come here was because he knew someone else would be here too.

The loose button up shirt Jonah was wearing felt like it was dancing along to the music the further into the house he walked. A lot of doors had to be open for the cold breeze to be rattling through despite the tempid, humid bodies scuttling about the place. The cold waves of air flushed beneath his shirt and made it fan out behind him like a cape. None of the buttons were done up. His chest was exposed for anyone to see and his shirt looked more like a loose blazer, a formality, a curtesy more than anything else.

He knew he would be sweating through his clothes by the end of the night so he thought he may as well strip and loosen everything beforehand.

The hand he was holding started to get tighter until he could barely feel the tips of his fingers anymore, but it didn't matter. All Jonah could focus on was finding a way to get a drink in his hand and a certain someone in his sights.

"I'll get us a drink,"

Instead of Jonah leading them down the hall, Alex finally released his hand and squeezed around him until she was in front of him. Her long hair, tied up in a ponytail, swayed behind her like it was dancing to the beat and her smile was almost infectious. Almost.

Jonah smiled when she kissed his shoulder and shivered when she patted his bare chest, but he kept his steps slow when she stormed ahead to find the drinks table in the back room. If she was preoccupied ahead of him, it gave him time to search for someone.

His steps were swift and his eyes were calculating. He stepped into the front room and darted his eyes around every person scuttling in and out. It would have been a lot easier if he knew what she was wearing, then he could have a common denominator to look for, but he didn't. It was by chance and pure luck that Jonah knew she was going to be here tonight and that was why he was here. Parties of any sort were insufferable unless she was around.

He passed into the back room but the only familiar face there was Alex waiting in a small crowd to get a drink.

Maybe she hadn't arrived yet, but Jonah wasn't on time, he was an hour later than when the party originally started. Maybe she was upstairs- or with someone else upstairs. Maybe she wasn't going to turn up tonight, she could have changed her mind.

A flash of red caught his attention immediately.

Beautiful girl, beautiful dress, dazzling smile, loving heart attack she caused Jonah to go through when he saw her.

That was the girl he was here to see.

That was (Y/n).

Her dress was a shade lighter than the blood coursing through her veins and reminded Jonah of a caramel apple. Desirable and enchanting, drawing him in with a colour that could fuel rage inside the calmest man on Earth. The low V-neck revealed her chest to his eyes and her soft skin that he had seen and touched too many times to count. Most of those them in innocent ways.

He liked what she'd done with her hair. It was curled into ringlets bouncing around her shoulders and the first few curls around her face were pinned to the back of her head with a rose clip. Enchanting.

The heels she wore were a darker shade of red, decaying blood-red velvet heels that made her taller, but not tall enough to level with Jonah.

He was in front of her before she even knew he was there, before he registered that he'd almost run across the kitchen to get to her. That was the effect she had on him, she reeled him in like a fish on a hook without ever meaning to and Jonah could do nothing but give in and satisfy himself by being close to her in any way he could.

"Have you missed me?"

A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt a pair of familiar lips curving around her ear and that voice whispering into her mind like poison dribbling into her ear.

She knew that voice, she would recognise it anywhere and those hands that gripped her hips tighter and pushed her back into the counter. Those hands left imprints on her for days afterwards even when he'd do the most innocent things. There was a line, an imaginary line that neither of them ever crossed. Intimacy came in any form but sex, that was something they'd never done and that was what kept their friendship on the edge of platonic.

They were each other's closest friend and over the years they had gone from being close and holding hands to cuddles, odd kisses, inappropriate jokes and sexual tension.

Jonah had seen (Y/n) without any clothes on, from the amount of times she got changed in front of him. That was the level of trust they had.

"Course I have." Reaching up, (Y/n) looped her arms around Jonah's neck, unable to stop herself from smiling when his arms bound around her waist and he hugged her tight.

A surprised gasp left (Y/n)'s lips when he held her so tight that he lifted her off her feet when he straightened up to his full height. She kissed his shoulder and nuzzled her nose into his skin, letting her legs dangle and swing into Jonah's when it didn't seem like he was going to set her back down to her feet anytime soon.

It had been almost a week since (Y/n) had last seen Jonah, it was comforting to find herself wrapped up in his arms again and hear him chuckle deep into her ear like he knew something she didn't. It felt good to wrap her arms around him again when she didn't know he was going to be here tonight, it was a surprise worth waiting for.

(Y/n) smiled when Jonah carefully and eventually set her back down so her heels finally touched the floor again, but his arms stayed pinned to her sides and his hands went back to cup her hips. He hadn't been around her for almost a week, he hadn't had her in his sights or had his hands holding hers or holding any part of her at all. He didn't like not being around his best friend, time apart didn't feel right.

"How have you been, what have you been up to?" (Y/n) leaned her head to the side and her eyes narrowed when Jonah didn't answer, but he was still smiling down at her.

Something sparked to life in (Y/n)'s chest when Jonah's fingertips glided up her waist, over the side of her chest and up until he could cup her chin between his finger and thumb. She let him tilt her head to the left and her breath caught in her lungs when his finger brushed across the side of her neck.

"Did I do that?"

He already knew the answer to his question so (Y/n) didn't know why he was asking, whether he wanted confirmation or just to bring attention to the fact that the marks were still there after a week.

Jonah tended to get lost in his mind quite a lot and his thoughts ran away without him, it left him running on autopilot. The last time they had seen each other last week, they had been out with friends at a club. (Y/n) was used to Jonah being a clingy and cuddly person in general and he was always kissing her cheek and neck affectionately. Last week he had been on autpilot and ended up leaving a few hickeys on her neck.

It was new, (Y/n) hadn't had Jonah do that before and she was sure he didn't mean anything by it but to look at him right now, it gave off a completely different signal.

He couldn't stop looking at the fading colours on her neck, wishing he could liven them back up with colour and make more marks like that so they never had chance to fade away. He couldn't do that. (Y/n) was his friend, his best friend, his sidekick, partner in crime who got away with anything whenever he was around. Their friendship shouldn't stretch this far, especially not when Jonah had a girlfriend and (Y/n) was free to be with anyone she desired.

Whatever answer he had been expecting, it wasn't for (Y/n) to laugh. That humorous, spine tingling noise that sent shockwaves throughout his system for no reason at all.

He could feel her leaning closer, standing on her tiptoes so she could press her lips to his cheek.

"Yeah, you did. And it's been a bitch trying to hide them at work, you know. Now go get a drink, loosen up my liege."

(Y/n) could call him anything she liked and Jonah's smile would be humble yet bright, just like it was now as he watched her glide away from him, forever out of his reach. My liege seemed to be the one that stuck with him the most throughout the years. She used to call him Mr King and she had no idea how that affected him, then sometimes she would call him sovereign, now it was my liege and each one made Jonah smile.

"Where's Jonah?"

Abruptly stopping in her tracks, (Y/n) smiled and rubbed at the side of her neck when Alex appeared in front of her, seemingly out of nowhere. She didn't look best pleased, she looked tired, fed up. The exact opposite of how she was supposed to feel attending a party like this.

"Um, I don't know I haven't seen him since you guys arrived. Everything okay?" It was true, since finding her earlier in the evening, (Y/n) hadn't seen him around for a while, not that she was overly worried. Jonah tended to float around when they went to parties, he mingled between friends and always found something new to occupy himself with like a child levitating to new toys.

"No, not when you're around."

"Oh," (Y/n) didn't know how to respond to that but the growing unease she felt didn't take away the smile on her face.

She was at a party, she was here to have fun and be around friends and have a drink. (Y/n) wasn't here for Alex to start an argument with and she wasn't here for her to rant and be rude to, not that it mattered. Anything Alex threw at (Y/n), she combatted with a smile.

It wasn't (Y/n)'s fault. Alex felt insecure, she could see just like anyone else how close Jonah was to (Y/n) and it was bound to be irritating after a while. But (Y/n) was Jonah's friend and that wasn't going to change. (Y/n) herself had nothing to feel bad or insecure about and if ranting made Alex feel better, (Y/n) would take it with a smile before getting on with her life.

She never told Jonah, no matter how many times Alex had told her to stay away from him, to stop being so close and up front with him. Even when she threatened (Y/n) to stay away from him once, (Y/n) just responded with an 'okay' and walked away. If Jonah knew, the balance of everything would shift and (Y/n) didn't know which way the balance would go. She didn't want to be the cause of an argument between the couple, letting Alex vent was a lot easier than telling Jonah.

"Stay away from him."

"That's not up to me-"

"Look, you've clearly got your own fella," For a moment, (Y/n) didn't know what she meant until Alex pointed to her neck and (Y/n) remembered the hickeys littering her skin. "Go back to him and leave Jonah alone, you're not exactly good for him."

It would do more harm than good to explain that (Y/n) couldn't make that choice for Jonah, she couldn't stay away simply because Alex was insecure and Jonah was close to (Y/n). Nor could she explain that the marks were there precisely because of Jonah.

The best (Y/n) could do was nod and smile whilst hooking some hair behind her ear out of habit.

"Okay, whatever you want."

Drink in hand, (Y/n) walked through the living room and bypassed the kitchen, heading for the conservatory at the back of the house, hoping the music would be quieter there and the people less rowdy.

It was indeed quieter in there, the music faded the further into the room (Y/n) got and the voices were less powerful back here. People were outside and hovering by the open doors to have a smoke, it was a calmer atmosphere than the rest of the house. She would stay in here for a drink or two and let things calm down before she dared go back to the hyped spirits and loud volume.

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Jonah. If (Y/n) knew he was going to be in here she would have carried on and headed outside or gone upstairs or somewhere else. If Alex followed her in here a fight would ensue and (Y/n) didn't want that.

"Perfect timing."

There was no time to ask what he meant before Jonah's arm was hooked around (Y/n)'s waist and she was pulled off balance.

He pulled her back against his chest and (Y/n) almost went rigid when she felt his heart throbbing in his chest, pulsating through into her back and lungs. His shirt was barely hanging on his shoulders and at this point it would be less hassle if he simply took it off. It allowed (Y/n) to feel every rim and edge of his chest against her back through her thin dress but when she felt Jonah's lips in her hair she could have moaned.

The touch didn't last long before he knocked her off her balance and feet, again. (Y/n) squealed when Jonah fell backwards and pulled her with him and he landed on the sofa, groaning when (Y/n) fell onto his lap and her head flopped onto his shoulder.

She couldn't stop herself from laughing, it was automatic and instinctive and when Jonah started to laugh too, it was like they were the only people in the room.

Shimmying to the left, (Y/n) wiggled off his lap and plopped down next to him on the sofa, staying so close their legs were still tangled together and she was squeezed into Jonah's side. His arm stayed looped around her waist and he tilted his head down so his temple could rest against her curls.

"What am I on time for?" (Y/n) tilted her head back to look up at him and she couldn't refrain herself from brushing her fingertip along his cheek, leaving a tickling sensation in her wake.

"A song. Sing with me,"

And when someone handed Jonah a guitar, how could she refuse? Jonah loved the sound of her voice just like (Y/n) was enchanted by his, it was a perfect combination that made someone turn down the music on in the background and a small crowd gathered into the room to watch.

Even drunk, Jonah could sing and (Y/n) was only a little bit tipsy so she could recall all the words to the song Jonah had written himself which he began to sing. She pushed herself to sit up a little straighter until Jonah himself slouched further back into the sofa and leaned the guitar into his chest, beckoning (Y/n) to lay back with him.

His voice was rugged yet delicate somehow, it was deep and shallow and without a single scratching chord.

(Y/n) wished the song was longer, she wished they could sing it again and again on repeat as if it was the first time they were singing together. Singing with Jonah felt like a little piece of heaven on Earth and she wanted it to stretch out into an eternity, instead of a few minutes. Even when people began to clap and applaud, (Y/n) wanted to rewind time.

Only when Jonah tilted his head to tuck into the crook of her neck did she stop wishing to rewind time and started to focus on what he was whispering into her neck.

"You're beautiful,"

The cheesy grin on his face made something burst in (Y/n)'s chest and before she could stop herself, she pulled back enough so that she could see his face properly. She felt the way his breath hitched into his throat and his adam's apple wavered when she cupped his cheek in her hand and smoothed her thumb across his pointed cheekbone.

When a delicate kiss was pressed to his other cheek, Jonah could have sworn he had died then and there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'You know (Y/n) means a lot to me-'

'Excuse me for thinking I was your girlfriend.'

What he really meant was (Y/n) means everything to me. But of course he couldn't say that, when (Y/n) was involved he had to choose his words very carefully, lest he start world war three.

'You can't keep doing this Jonah, whenever she's around you run to her like a puppy. If you're with me, you are with me. Not her. You don't leave me hanging and run to find her, you don't go and kiss her cheek or wrap around her. You stay with me, your girlfriend.'

He was an addict. Jonah could admit it to himself, in the dead of night when no one else was around and there was no risk of someone hearing or knowing what he was talking about. He could tell the truth to himself that he was an addict, and (Y/n) was his drug. It wasn't by choice, he couldn't help being drawn to her like a magnet every time she was around.

If (Y/n) was nearby, Jonah's radar went off and he found her some way or another, whether he was doing it consciously or subconsciously. He gravitated to (Y/n) and when his arms were around her, it felt like home.

Home was (Y/n), her smell was intoxicating, her smile was infectious, her warmth was his haven and her body was his safe place.

He was almost ashamed to admit that two weeks was the longest limit he could put on himself for staying away from (Y/n) intentionally. When he was away filming for work, it didn't count. Sure, he missed her like Hell but he pushed through because it was for his job and he still called and messaged her every day.

Forcing himself not to see her, message or talk to her was something Jonah couldn't commit to, no matter how hard he tried or how much he thought he loved Alex. Two weeks was all he could do and now he was past his broken limit and he was facing the repercussions.

"Jonah? What are you doing… it's two in the morning."

Tilting her head round until she felt a successful click, (Y/n) sat up enough to look over at the door to her bedroom that was wide open.

From experience, (Y/n) didn't get panicked or overwhelmed whenever she saw the tall but skinny, looming frame appearing in her room in the dead of night. She knew it would be Jonah, it always was.

When they were teens and Jonah suffered from insomnia or his emotions got the better of him and he didn't know what to do, he would always run to (Y/n). She lived with her parents back then and her bedroom window was always open. (Y/n) would wake up during the night and find Jonah scaling the side of the house up the ivy trellise and in through her window so he could sneak in her bed and wrap around her like she was a teddy bear he needed to help him sleep.

Now that she had her own house, Jonah of course had a key so he didn't have to scale the house and crawl through the window. He just had to unlock the door and find his way in the dark to her room. A few years may have rolled by, but their dynamics hadn't changed that much.

(Y/n) almost sighed when he sheepishly advanced towards the bed but even in the dark, Jonah could see a smile break out on her face and she lifted up the covers enough for him to slip beneath them.

It felt like a piece of a puzzle slotted into place when (Y/n) felt Jonah's chest cuddle up to her back and his arm looped over her waist, pulling her impossibly closer.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No, I missed you."

"You didn't call, I thought something was wrong. Thought maybe I'd done something." (Y/n) felt him hold her tighter when she spoke and she was sure his breaths hitched higher against her neck like he was afraid she was going to tell him off or become upset.

"Never. I thought… if I stayed away, restrained myself, things would feel different, but they don't. It hurts to stay away, I can't do it."

He tried, he really did. He tried abstaining from (Y/n) like she was one of the seven deadly sins he wanted to avoid to get into Heaven, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't restrain himself, he couldn't stay away from the one person who was home to him, the person who truly held his heart in her hands no matter how much he tried to deny it. If this was Hell then Jonah would forever stay here with (Y/n) and the devil because this was where he belonged.

"This isn't a good solution, J. Sneaking back into my room like we're teenagers, we can't do this." This wasn't going to work, Jonah couldn't stay with Alex and then sneak into (Y/n)'s room in the middle of the night when he missed her too much. It wasn't going to work and it wouldn't be healthy for any of them.

(Y/n) suddenly held her breath when Jonah pulled back but she gasped when he flipped her over so she was laying on her back instead of her side.

Her hair fanned out behind her across the pillow and it made Jonah feel like he was staring down at a Goddess right before his eyes. He crossed his leg over until he had one knee pinned against either of (Y/n)'s hips and he was almost sitting on her pelvis, balancing his weight on his knees so he didn't hurt her.

He moved his hands down her waist until they found her wrists and he pinned them to the pillow above her head.

(Y/n) felt like she was suffering a heart attack with how fast her heart was pulsing in her chest but when Jonah leaned over until their noses were touching, the edges of her vision started to fail.

He had been close to her on thousands of occasions over the years, she had stripped down and changed in front of him. She had hugged him, kissed his cheek, his neck, his hand and vice versa, Jonah had kissed her millions of times. But he had never been this close before. Every inch of him was pressed down on her, his breath was fanning against her lips, his hands were itching around her wrists like he was desperate to do something else but was holding himself back.

"I know the solution. It's you."

He had never kissed her before, until now. His touch was euphoric, he stole every ounce of air within her lungs until she was gasping against him but desperate to stay connected. Her lips pushed up against his, her teeth tugged at his lip to keep him there, keep him close and bound to her and she swallowed every noise he made.

He could feel her hands itching and twitching in his grasp, desperate to reach out and touch him, caress him, grab him, she just wanted to do something. But he wouldn't let her, her hands stayed pinned above her head where he wanted them and when he finally released her lips, he shifted to her neck like a vampire.

Jonah didn't care who saw the marks he was about to leave on her neck. He didn't care that the old bruises were long gone and forgotten now. New ones were about to be made and he took his time sucking her skin before he punctured his teeth into the side of her neck and tugged at the skin just hard enough to bruise without inducing any blood.

He'd always known, deep down. (Y/n) was the solution to everything.

#jonah hauer king #jonah hauer king imagine #jonah x reader #jonah imagine #imagine #the little mermaid imagine #the little mermaid

57 notes · View notes

randomwriteronline · 10 months

Text

@cantankerouscanuck

There were still things that put the Chain on edge.

Surprisingly; because they'd been through some wild stuff, individually and together.

Sudden appearance of a portal? They could handle that. They'd gotten almost used to it, by now. Only almost, but almost.

No, the weird part, which made the nine heroes draw out their swords in the blink of an eye to point their blades at the brand new threat and Skull Kid's pupils thin into slits as they hid behind their larger friends' legs, was that from the strange gateway into who knows what dimension emerged a being they weren't even sure they could have ever dreamed, not even after the biggest, most uncoordinated, stomach-ache worthy supper of their lives.

Its elongated head was bone white, with red eyes and an enormous mouth of teeth; its body seemed at first deathly emaciated beneath the dark mantle, but a more careful look revealed that it was more or less only a skeleton - a metallic one at that, with incomplete hands and sharp feet, similar to the talons of a bird of prey.

Whatever the hell that thing was looked at them nice and long, taking them in one by one.

"Oh," he finally said, clanging his horrible teeth together in dismay: "Oh, you are hideous. Disgusting, even."

"Never look in a mirror then," Four quipped: "You'll get a heart attack."

"A mirror? Why would I do that? Ah, I see, I see, that's an insult, I understand - but you see, you horrible fleshy thing," the stranger replied with no apparent malice in his voice, in a rambling tone, "I have seen myself - well, not since this mask was fused to my head, but I have, and you will have to understand that while I do indeed have a horrendous face not even my own other half could love, you are made entirely of meat. Of flesh. Of organic material. No such thing as a piece of metal on your bodies except for your swords. No masks at all. Not even a glimmer of iron on you - although I do like your fabrics, I do, they'd make for quite a nice cape, and - oh, you do have armor, yes, you do, that you do... You won't mind me taking it all from you once I'm done killing you all, will you?"

The nine of them tightened the grip on their weapons, making them glint in the sunlight.

"I'll take it as a maybe."

Wind glared at him up and down a couple times: "What even are you?"

"A Skakdi, or the half of one, to be more precise," the being answered as if any of that made perfect sense. He turned to Time: "You should be shorter. And less meaty. And less appalling, but only slightly."

"Funny. I don't think we've ever met." the older warrior replied curtly.

"We haven't? Oh, I suppose we would not have, not here. Such a shame, truly. I didn't like that other you at all. I would have hoped not to meet another one in the next place I ended up in."

"Sucks to be you."

"Indeed it sucks."

"And you got a name?" pressed Four a little more rudely than usual. "Or at least half of one?"

The creature paused. His strange hand tapped on his chin pensively, as though he honestly needed to think about it for a couple seconds.

"A name, a name, a name..." he mumbled, until finally he seemed to remember: "Ah! Of course I do, of course. I gave it to me myself, after all - it's Vezon, with a Z, which means double, because I am a double, ripped away from a big blue brute, Vezok, also with a Z--"

"With a K," Sky corrected.

Legend elbowed him.

"What?" Vezon asked.

"Vezok with a K," Hyrule repeated helpfully.

Legend elbowed him as well.

From threatening and unpredictable, their opponent completely shifted his demeanor: now he stood a little hunched, arms limp down his sides, head tilted, face a bit scrunched into a confused expression.

"Yes, I do know Vezok is spelled with a K. My name is Vezon, though."

"You mentioned Vezon with a Z, but Vezok also has a Z." Sky explained.

"Yes, I know that too."

"That's not a difference."

"I'm aware. What is your point?

This time it was Hyrule who clarified: "If you don't want us to call you Vezok, you should specify that Vezon is spelled with an N and Vezok is spelled with a K."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because that's the difference between the two names. It sets them apart."

Vezon seemed floored.

"I did not think about that," he admitted. "That does seem more useful."

"This guy tells us upfront he wants to kill us to loot our corpses and you start arguing with him on spelling?" Warriors took the chance to hiss at his fellow heroes while the creature was distracted.

Sky raised his shoulders defensively: "It made no sense! It was bugging me!"

Wild, who had some amount of brain damage due to caramelizing for about a hundred years in the rebirth oil, decided he had enough experience on the matter to ask the half Skakdi with a hint of genuine concern: "Are you like. Alright?"

"Oh, yes!" the being replied: "I am insane."

That did explain a variety of things.

Skull Kid (who, as they were wont to do, had snuck away from their friends so quietly that their absence had gone completely undetected in order to investigate possibly deadly things on their own) sniffed at Vezon's arm. Based on their furrowed expression and squinted eyes, the scent was less than enjoyable.

The mechanical creature turned to them, and widened his awful grin.

"My dear! You still look the same! Sort of," he croaked out almost happily. His incomplete hand prodded at the wooden head, specifically interested in the mouth area: "You're still non organic. Mostly, I mean, you still have all that horrid plant-life on you, but you're not as immensely horrid as these fellows here... You are much shorter though. And much quieter. And you still don't have a mouth, do you? Ah, such a shame, such a shame, I was hoping in one of these universes you'd have a nice set of teeth for once, you know - maybe I would manage to rip them out of you nice and clean so I can jam them in your jaw once I finally get the chance to pry your skull open and-"

Skull Kid's razor sharp teeth bit down on his palm.

Vezon's head glowed suddenly: he barely had time to shriek a blood-curling A-- that he was already gone, disappearing in the fraction of a second.

The imp's teeth clattered close around the empty air. They looked around, confused.

Nope. The guy wasn't coming back.

"Well," Twilight hollered loudly to break the silence: "Guess that's over."

"Did the Goddesses just think it was getting a little chummy around here? Did they figure we were getting bored and so threw... That, at us?" Four wondered aloud in genuine bewilderment.

"He tastes like metal." Skull Kid informed them. "And he has tendons."

"That's great, Sweet Pea."

"I think I have some in my mouth."

"Ah, fuck-"

"Again?"

"Here, come over here..."

#tloz #linked universe #bionicle #vezon #skullkid #skull kid #hyrule lu #four lu #wild lu #warriors lu #time lu #twilight lu #wind lu #legend lu #sky lu #random writing #this is perfectly aligned with canon as vezon can just travel through alternate universes

34 notes · View notes

betterfettered · 1 year

Note

An anon asked me this and I lost it somehow, sorry anon!!!

Okay so I am a big fan of your obey me content and I read one request from an anon with Satan still wanting a connection that has love in it and your answer was amazing. So if it's not a trouble, can I request the same concept with Diavolo? It would be so interesting to see his side, especially given the fact that he is more affectionate than Satan

Hey anon! So glad you're enjoying my writing <3 I hope this scratches ur itch

(GN!reader x AMAB!yandere)(18+ readers only please, mdni)[This is fetish content and abuse is disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Oh, how quickly dread could turn to delight. Diavolo loathed seeing you after he punished you for your misbehavior because he knew that you would be frigid to him, closed off in a place he had no access to. Even if he had the consolation of being able to forcefully hold you in his arms, misery was not a strong enough word for how he felt when you would not look at him, would not smile at him. It felt more than lonely: it was emptiness like wandering through the palace as a child, when it seemed like all of the statues in the enormous halls hated him and wanted him out.

Still, your transgressions had to be corrected, and the day before you had told him some bold lies right to his face. The subject was inconsequential - he'd asked you to stay in the castle because a local festival might have rowdy crowds, and you'd gone out any way - which was perhaps why you had made him so furious. Did dishonesty really come so easily to you? Was he not deserving of more respect?

So you'd been cast down into the pitch black dark of the dungeons, where a menagerie of beasts ran through the halls around you and gave no way of telling if they were going to attack. Your punishment was not actually being harmed, but instead the terror of anticipation, of holding your breath every time you heard claws skittering on the ground. You always returned completely shaken and normally hid yourself away for a day or so until you could calm down.

This time, however, only a handful of hours after he'd told Barbatos to bring you back above ground, he heard your footsteps coming towards his office where he was working and then your gentle knock on his door. He froze, feeling his throat tighten as he bade you to come in.

Lovely and radiant as always, your full, gently sloped figure looking regal in a deep red chiffon cape he had given you a few weeks ago, you offered him a small, nervous smile from the doorway. His heart leapt. Your smile wasn't as bright as it could be and your hand still trembled on the handle of the door, but you had come to him yourself.

He held out his arms to you and you crossed the office to him, or tried to, at least, because he stood up before you were all the way to him and went to you to wrap you up in a hug so tight that it crushed the wind out of you. Resting his chin on top of your head, he blinked rapidly a few times to rid his eyes of the tears of relief he felt intruding upon him. It felt so good to hold you in his arms, it felt so good to hold you in his arms, it felt so good that you let him hold you in his arms --

"Good morning, Dia," you started, wresting your arms out of his grasp so you could put them around his neck. You rested your cheek on his chest. "Are you coming to breakfast sometime soon? We should eat together."

"Anything you say," he breathed, running his hand down the back of your head.

"Wonderful," you said, a little flatly. "I was....also wondering if...it would be alright with you if...I went to the House of Lamentation afterwards, just for a short visit."

What he wanted to say was no. In fact, he wanted to tell you that you could never go to the House of Lamentation again, that you were to break off all ties with those seven brothers, and that he was enraged and beyond jealous and disgusted that you so bold facedly were trying to manipulate him with your touch and favor. He wanted to tell you how much you were hurting him by asking him to leave again, that he couldn't remember the point of work or meetings or any of this shit when you abandoned him to spend time with those you really, truly loved.

"Dia!"

But if he could have everything he wanted of you, you would hate him. And you knew that, which is why your manipulation was actually working. You knew well his hunger for your touch and affection and knew that he hated telling you no because you would withdraw from him.

In the end, despite the flights of his temper, he just wanted to experience the mutual love that you gave him glimmers of when he made you laugh by kissing you all over your face or when he made you swoon by preparing a romantic date. Even a second of feeling special to you was enough for him to keep going.

"Diavolo, you're hurting me," you whimpered, pained to the point of tears.

The prince loosened the constricting grip he had on you immediately and gave an awkward, stiff chuckle. He bowed his head to your arm to kiss where his fingers had pressed welts into your skin, and then kissed your forehead and your lips.

"Of course," he said, gently running his hand down your side, across your thigh and onto your ass, his other arm keeping you tight to his chest. "Let's spend a few hours together, and then you may go there when you'd like."

If you wanted to fool him, he would act as foolishly as he needed to to be satisfied.

Did you like anon? Let me know what you think <3

#yandere x reader #yandere #male yandere #obey me diavolo #yandere diavolo #diavolo x reader #betty fetty

68 notes · View notes

glowinghae · 2 years

Text

meet me at midnight || c.four

[Chapter Four- Waves]

𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 + OC

meet me at midnight masterlist 𝟏𝟖+, lots of various torture, trauma, angst, suffering, cheating, violent death, women not supporting women, arguments, fluff but really a lot of angst. smut of all kinds. all characters are over 18,

to be a vigilante requires only three things: a broken heart, the resources, and the will.

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘! as always a gargantuan thank you to @hllokttyairhead for being an amazing support, editer and friend. truly you are my muse. pls pls pls go and follow her because that is one QUALITY blog.

A path was forming on the floor where Esther paced back and forth, staring at the screen of her phone as she chewed on her fingernails.

“He could be fine.” Esther muttered to herself repeatedly, the red flashing vitals saying otherwise. “Fuck.”

Essie stormed across the room and snatched her suit from where she’d laid it out on her bed. It took her a minute to get it on, but it felt weird to wear it in the light of day; this couldn’t wait for nightfall, though.

Tightening her weapon’s harnesses, Esther swore under her breath. She had her blades, but her gun was missing. Dick must have taken it. This made things ten times harder.

The computer here wasn’t strong enough to make a tracker from the chip that Jason had left her, but Esther knew of one that was. As she slipped her mask over her face, Esther slid her Khopesh into its leather sheath.

Getting to the computer system she needed wouldn’t be a problem, but getting around its guard dog might be.

…

No sound was made as She-Wolf’s feet landed on the balcony outside the expensive loft in East Gotham. The sliding door was unlocked, as Esther knew it would be.

Barbara Gordon was used to masked vigilantes using her balcony as an entrance.

Luckily it seemed that no one was home as Essie silently closed the door behind her. That was good; the last thing she needed was Babs asking a million questions. The living area looked normal, but Esther knew better. Stepping over to the vintage telephone on the bookshelf, Esther lifted the receiver off its stand and rang in the numbers 5-7-4-5-6. The moment she placed the receiver back down, the room began transforming.

The bookshelf split open, and a massive computer screen console emerged. The window curtains drew themselves shut, and the tv disappeared into the floor, replaced by an enormous display case that came from inside the wall.

The case gave Esther pause. Inside was Barbara’s old Batgirl suit. The purple and gold detailing made her smile, and she placed her hand over the glass.

“Teach me that move!” A ten-year-old Esther screeched after getting landed on her ass by Babs. Barbara moved her cape out of the way and reached out to give the girl a hand standing up.

“I’ll teach you that move after you’ve learned to block it.” Batgirl laughed, “If you’re gonna be Bat-Girl-”

“With a hyphen!” Esther clarified, eliciting an eye roll from Babs.

“With a hyphen,” She conceded, “It’s more important you learn how to stop an attack before knowing how to start one. I will say, though, you seem to be picking this up rather quickly.”

A sad expression settled on Esther’s tired face. This had all been so easy and fun when they were kids. She could still remember the first time she donned the mask; Barbara had snapped a million pictures, squealing something about her ‘mini-me.’

So much had changed.

Esther refocused herself, rushing over to the Watchtower systems and entering Barbara’s password, ‘justinbeiber4eva!’ only to curse as she was greeted by an ‘incorrect password’ screen.

Dammit, that had been Babs password for years. There were only two attempts remaining. Esther looked down, noticing a picture framed on Barbara’s desk.

It was of Dick, Jason, and Esther.

It was from middle school. They were all in uniforms, lined up outside the principal's office. Barbara had snapped the picture of them after Esther had thrown a glitter bomb inside the boys' bathroom with Dick and Jason inside. Essie had been mad because they had eaten the last of her cereal that morning.

Esther smirked at the picture frame, the two boys covered head to toe in glitter, angry expressions on their faces, with little Esther cackling between them. No wonder Jason switched to public school the following year. He was probably so sick of her shit.

“I changed the password.” Esther hung her head as Barbara’s voice came from behind her. When Essie turned, Babs was seated in her wheelchair, the door to her bedroom open behind her. Damn, even in a wheelchair, Babs was quiet. “It’s ‘Timstaythehelloutofmystuff12’. Damn, kids broke into it about six times in the past month.”

“Barb, I-”

“You’re not usually the one breaking in here to use my stuff; it’s still annoying, though.” Babs came to the desk and typed in her password, pushing Essie out of the way, “But I’ll admit it’s nice seeing you when you’re not absolutely wasted.”

Esther grimaced at the foggy memory of her stumbling into this very apartment a few months back. Humiliating, honestly. No wonder she hated to drink.

“Let’s just… forget about that.” She blushed. “I don’t mean to be rude, Barbara, but I’m in a bit of a crisis here-”

“I told you not to do it.” Barbara crossed her arms and stared up at her friend, “I know you were angry about Jason, and I know that my incident pushed you over the edge, but I told you not to go after Joker for me.”

“I don’t know how many times I need to say this: it wasn’t me.” The She-Wolf’s tone was impatient. “You know me, Babs, stringing people up for the world to see isn’t my M.O.”

That was true, but Barbara frowned anyway, “Once upon a time, I knew you, Essie.” Barbara said, “Before you started with this She-Wolf persona. Before you started killing people. Before you abandoned all of us.” Esther wished Barbara didn’t say all this with that heartbroken tone. Essie had never meant to cause all this suffering to Barbara and Dick. She knew it was as if they had lost two of their family members that day. “So if you’re here to get help to continue this murder crusade, you can just go.”

Pulling the chip out of her phone silently, Essie handed it to Barbara, who studied it closely before clicking into her computer. Her screens lit up with Jason’s vitals, which looked even worse than the last time Esther had checked. “No killing today. Trying to save someone. This person is important, and I don’t know where they are.”

Barbara searched Essie’s face. She did look concerned, which was weird. Babs turned her attention back to the screen, “Well, they don’t have much time by the looks of it.” She brought up some new screens, “I’m assuming you wanted to make a tracker piggybacking off the signal of the life support system? Hmm, it’s pretty weak. You probably wouldn’t have been able to do this on your own.” Her fingers raced against the keyboard, “But luckily, you’re not on your own.”

Her words hit Esther like a bag of bricks. Esther hadn’t realized how much leaving had hurt Barbara. But she was still so ready to help? “Thanks.” She said awkwardly.

“So, who is it?” Babs didn’t look away from the screen as she asked, “Must be someone you care about, but we share all the same friends. As far as I know, Dick finished up patrol and is over at the manor. Roy and Wally are in their respective cities. So who?”

“Someone…” Esther’s face lit up red, “Important.” She repeated, and Barbara flashed her a smile.

“Someone important to you?” Babs couldn’t believe this. It had been ages since Esther had even shown a little emotion over someone; other than Jason. If only she knew.

“Babs, please. They’re in bad shape.” Esther couldn’t look away from the vitals on the screen.

Barbara glanced at them, too, “Oxygen levels are dropping. Wherever they are, the air is getting thin-”

A loud thumping and crashing sound interrupted her words, and Esther was lightning fast, drawing her blade and getting defensive, “Stay behind me.” Essie moved to protect Barbara, taking slow steps to the glass door where the sound had come from.

Watching her move, Barbara studied Esther Wayne. She was the closest thing Babs had to a little sister, and there had been a time when they were thick as thieves. Even when they both had feelings for Dick, they’d never let it come between them.

But when Jason died, everything changed. Barbara knew it wasn’t just that, though. For seventy-two days, Esther sat beside Jason and experienced unknown hells. All while never knowing that there wasn’t a single night her ‘big sister’ wasn’t out there looking for them. And then to watch Jason die the way that he did. To have Bruce show up only moments too late.

She disagreed with Esther going out and killing criminals, but she’d be lying if she didn’t understand why Essie did it.

Today, however, there was something different in Esther Wayne. That anger that had ruled her for the past year seemed… less hot to the touch. And there was a new confidence in her when she wore this suit. Barbara hated admitting it, but maybe Esther was never meant to be her replacement. Or at least, perhaps the Joker truly had killed the Bat-Girl; it’s just that something else had survived.

She-Wolf stood with a strength that Barbara knew all too well. It was how she’d felt being Batgirl. How she felt now being Oracle. It seemed less like a mask and more like an extension of Esther. Esther was now moving the curtain out of the way of the glass door, only to freeze. Oh shit, it must be something startling to make Esther freeze up like that.

Barbara wheeled herself over to be by Esther’s side and gasped as she saw what Esther was staring at outside the window.

The bodies Esther had left behind the dumpster a few nights earlier had been dropped from the roof of Bab’s apartment onto her balcony. The bodies were in bad shape, and half froze, but that wasn’t what concerned Esther.

It was the katanas that were impaling the bodies through their chests. Not just any katanas, either…

“Care to explain why the League of Shadows is sending you an invitation? Using my terrace?” Babs was right; this was the League’s way of leaving Esther a message. They’d been watching her, and now they wanted to talk.

Esther didn’t have fucking time for this. She needed to find Jason before it was too late. “How long before the tracker is up and running?” Esther asked.

Babs narrowed her eyes, “You know, you and your brother are more similar than you’d like to think.” She referred to Esther ignoring her questions. Bab’s wheeled herself back to her computer, “It’ll be about an hour before the program is ready. This signal is weak.”

An hour?! Sure, it gave her time to find out what the League wanted, but Jason was running out of time. “Do whatever you can to get that time down.” Esther sighed, tinkering with the control panel on her hip that operated her suit's systems.“I’m sending you my suits comm channel; tell me when you’ve got the location.”

“Exactly like your brother.” Barbara huffed. “You better be back later to get those dead guys off my porch.”

…

There had been no note on the bodies to hint at where Esther was meant to meet the League, but that only left her assuming that the bodies themselves were the hint. She’d left them on Ninth, so that’s where she stood now.

The alleyway looked much the same, still dirty, still… alley-like. It was empty, but then again, the League would never be caught dead somewhere as nasty as this. It took Essie only a moment before she looked up and saw the swish of a cloak disappearing over the edge of the rooftop.

Using her grapple hook, Esther followed suit, and a moment later, she was standing face-to-face with Ra’s al Ghul himself.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but the Demon was not it. As if her body moved without permission, Esther lowered her head to avoid looking him in the eye. What the hell? Seriously, she hadn’t planned on doing that.

“Ra’s.” Essie acknowledged him, lifting her chin up to stare him down. He looked a little older than what Bruce typically described; it seemed he needed to take another dip into the Lazarus pit. But other than that, the dark features, the pointy cape… It all checked out.

“You’ve grown tall and beautiful, Sadiyah; you’ve become a fine warrior.” His words had a smooth, silky accent to them.

“I got your ‘message’ where’s Jason?” Esther snarled, unsure why he’d called her that name, but it sounded weird… familiar even.

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Ra’s took long, slow strides, circling around where Esther stood.

Her shoulders deflated, “You don’t know?” But the look in his eyes didn’t quite add up. It took Esther a second, but after a moment, she sighed heavily, “But that’s not what you said, is it?” Ra’s knew exactly where Jason was; he just wanted Essie to figure it out on her own. “This is a test.”

Ra’s gave her a charming smile, “Think of it as more of an opportunity. A challenge. I want to see what you’re made of. The time is fast approaching when you will need to be prepared.”

This was the same weird bullshit that Ra’s spewed every time he saw Esther. Wait, no. That wasn’t right. Esther had only ever seen him in pictures. Her brain felt foggy, but she shook her head to clear it and snarled, “Listen, old man, I have no interest in the stupid games you like to play with Bruce; You already cost me Jason once. I won’t let you do it again.” She drew her khopesh from its sheath and lowered her center of gravity.

Ra’s stopped in front of her and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, “You would do well to remember some respect, child.” His facial expression darkened, “Too often, you seem to forget that you only exist because of me.”

Too often? What was he talking about? Esther wasn’t sure, but her head felt like it was going to split open, “Big deal,” She squeezed her eyes open and shut, trying to see through the headache, “You defrosted me in a microwave and then left me to be poked at by doctors for the better part of a decade. It doesn’t mean I owe you anything.” Essie grunted, lifting her blade a bit higher.

“Is that how you remember it? Pity.” Ra’s had a smug smile on his face, but his expression faltered as he got a better look at her sword. “Shifrat Mumazaqa.” The Shattered Blade. “Where did you find such a weapon?”

Esther squinted in confusion, pausing to inspect her khopesh. Its blade was an onyx black, some kind of old writing etched into it. “I paid a visit to my family’s exhibit at the museum. Found this on the way out, figured it was a shame to leave a beautiful weapon to rot while ten-year-olds gawked at it.” Sometimes, late at night, Esther would notice scratches in the blade with an almost violet hue.

Ra’s studied her blade, moving in closer for a better look. “How interesting that this weapon should call to you. It’s quite ancient. I have not seen it with my own eyes in many centuries.” He reached out a hand to examine it, only for Esther to lightly smack it with the blade. A warning. “You’re not foolish enough to fight me, girl. We both know you’re not quite there yet. Perhaps soon, but not on this day.”

He was absolutely right. And she knew it. To fight Ra’s al Ghul was a death wish, but Esther felt desperate. “Just tell me where Jason is.”

“I look forward to your success.” Ra’s smirked and dropped a smoke pellet onto the ground.

Esther reached up to turn on her mask, but he was gone by the time its lenses powered on. She switched it off as the smoke cleared, angrily sheathing her weapon and kicking at a loose shingle.

So Ra’s was testing her, and he wanted to be sure that she knew it. Why? Not to mention, Jason was working for him, shouldn’t Ra’s care a little bit whether or not he lives? He couldn’t be that confident in her abilities, could he? Ra’s hadn’t even seen Esther fight before.

Ra’s al Ghul had never bothered with Esther Wayne since placing her parents' samples into a surrogate, not since Bruce had taken her away from the clinic where she’d spent her life as nothing but a lab rat. So why was he here now?

She didn’t really have time to think about it, though. There was too much to do. Esther flicked on the mic in her mask.

“Babs, please tell me you have good news for me.” Esther sighed into the comm link, staring at the place Ra’s had been standing a moment before.

“I got good news, bad news, and news you just won’t like.” Bab’s voice rang from inside her mask.

“Go.” Esther huffed.

“Good news is that I got the tracker working.” Esther let out a breath of relief, thank God. “Bad news is I no longer have access to your suit's systems, so you need the physical chip.”

No. Esther didn’t have the kind of time to go back to Barbara’s apartment; Jason’s vitals looked bad the last time she’d seen them. Who knew how bad they were now.

“Babs, is there any way you could just tell me the coordinates?” But Esther knew what her answer would be.

“I could, but that’s too broad an area. It would take you too long to narrow down the exact spot. Now,” Essie could hear Oracle’s finger clicking on her keyboard, “The last bit of news is good, but don’t get mad at me.”

An eyebrow raised from underneath Essie’s mask, “Okay.” She drew out the ‘y’ in suspicion.

“The chip is on its way to you right now. It should be arriving any minute-“

“Looking for us?” The smooth voice was all too familiar to Essie, and her shoulders slumped. A silent groan went off in her head as she turned to see Nightwing in all his glory standing behind her.

“Who’s us?” Esther growled, knowing the answer even before Robin flipped from the building above them onto the rooftop they were all now standing on. “Okay, Babs, I understand sending Dick, but why the fuck is the kid here?”

“Training.” Nightwing looked her up and down; damn, she looked hot in her She-Wolf suit.

“Train somewhere else.” Esther spat and held her hand out, “The chip now, please.”

Tim Drake pulled the chip from his pocket and held it out to her, “Come take it from me.” He grinned. It was a challenge and not one that Esther was in the mood for right now. She had enough challenges on her plate at the moment.

Looking between the two of them, Esther’s eye twitched. Does this kid think this is a fucking joke?

“Tim,” Nightwing warned, “This might not be the time for” Too late. She-Wolf had already flipped Robin over her back and had her foot on his neck, pinning him to the ground. “You’ve got to stop letting her get in close. That’s where she does her best work.” Dick sighed. Esther kept the pressure on Tim’s neck as she snatched the chip from his fingers, adding a light smack to his face for good measure, “Okay, I think that’s enough, Essie.”

She released him and clipped the chip into the side of her mask, her visuals lighting up with a map and Jason’s vitals, all bordering her sight range. Jason’s heart rate was slowing down rapidly. When Essie saw his location, she groaned. Please, not the old Gotham South Elementary...

“Fuck.”

“I’m assuming that means you’ve seen our other problem?” Oracle said, and Esther palmed at her forehead. “Whoever your friend is, they need to pick better friends. Black Mask has been using that abandoned school as one of his safe houses for a while now. It’s his best guarded one.”

“And it’s far away.” Esther chewed on her cheek. “They’ll be dead by the time I get there.” Tears welled up in her eyes behind her mask, but she choked them back. This wasn’t the time to get emotional; it only clouded her judgment. “And I don’t have my guns.” She glared at Dick.

Tim sat up from the ground, grunting in pain, “I can take you on Bat-Wing.”

“No.” Esther shot back, not knowing what the fuck ‘Bat-Wing’ was.

Nightwing shifted on his feet, “Essie, Babs has two dead guys at her apartment courtesy of Ra’s al Ghul, if you need help-”

“I can’t.” She was pacing again, trying to come up with some way to get to the school in time. Dick got ready to argue, and Essie relented to telling him a little bit of truth just to save some time, “He’s issued me a challenge.”

The blood rushed from Dick’s masked face. “Shit.” He muttered, running his hand through his hair.

“That is… not good.” Barbara’s voice chimed in, and Tim got to his feet, his expression somewhat confused.

“Uhh, I’m lost.” The young Robin stared between the two older vigilantes.

Nightwing clenched his jaw, “When Ra’s wants to test the measure of a man, he’ll often set up impossible situations and set them loose to see if they can find a solution. He calls them ‘challenges.’ Bruce has done more than I can count, but Essie..?” He glanced at her, “Ra’s has never extended one to Esther before. And she’s right; we can’t help her. Much.”

“Uh, why?” Tim asked, and this time Esther answered.

“He’ll kill you.” Her words sent a shiver down his spine, “The challenge has been extended to me. If I receive too much help, I fail, and we all get picked off one by one by the League of Shadows as punishment for disrespecting their traditions. ‘Tuqus Alshaytan.’ The Rite of the Demon.”

Tim’s eyebrow raised, “You seem to know a lot about that.” Esther paused. He was right. She knew little from what Bruce had told her in the past, but… She didn’t remember him telling her the challenge's name, let alone its name in Arabic. Of the languages that Esther knew, Arabic wasn’t even one. “But there’s literally no other way to get across the city in time, not in broad daylight at least.”

“He’s right.” Babs said, “Ra’s has always allotted Bruce a little help. A good assassin uses his resources. Let us help as much as we can. As long as it’s just you that goes into that school, I don’t think Ra’s will punish you. It is convenient, though, that Bruce is busy working on a missing person case. I wonder if Ra’s didn’t want him helping you.”

Dick put his hand on Esther’s arm, and for once, she didn’t flinch away, “We’re right here, Essie. Let us help.”

Esther bit her lip and then huffed, “Okay. What the fuck is this ‘Bat-Wing’ thing?”

Nightwing did a double-take, “I’m sorry what?” Was she actually agreeing to their help? They hadn’t worked together in so long. “Wow, whoever’s in that school must be important.” He said under his breath.

Tim looked shocked as well, “Uh, right, then… It’s probably better if you just… see for yourself.”

…

“Don’t you ever, ever mention this again.” Esther hissed but could barely be heard over the wind roaring past them.

Turns out the ‘Bat-Wing’ was a new toy that Bruce made. Basically, a glorified hang-glider that went very fast. Unfortunately, it was only built for one rider, so Esther was holstered like a baby against Tim’s chest.

She looked like a fucking idiot.

“Dick got enough pictures to last us a lifetime.” Tim laughed, “And you get no pity from me. Because of you, I had to take my school pictures with a broken nose.”

“Uhh, right. How’s that coming?” Esther yelled over the wind.

“Still broken, thanks.” Tim griped, making a sharp turn to the right. Esther felt her stomach in her throat, “You okay? Lookin’ a little green there. Dick gets sick on this thing too.” He was enjoying this.

“I’m fine! I’ve been flying since before you knew the quadratic formula.” Granted, that was using her old Bat-Girl cape, but it was pretty much the same. It had… just been a while.

“Oh, I know!” Tim sighed, “Dick never shuts up about it. Apparently, you and Todd ditched out on a lot of responsibilities to take midnight flights around Gotham. He’s still salty that you guys left him to deal with the Christmas Charity alone.” It disturbed Esther to hear Tim talk about Jason, the Robin he’d replaced. But she tried to remember that she was mad at Bruce about that, not Tim. “Truthfully, I’m jealous of you guys. You all have so much history… You’re a family. I know you’re mad at them, but they still miss you so much. I’ve… never really had that.”

Esther’s heart melted. Maybe this kid wasn’t as bad as she thought. “Listen, kid,” She sighed, “I’m sorry about your nose. It’s hard for me to go easy on you. I- I don’t do it to be mean... Most of the time at least. Losing the last Robin… Truthfully I don’t think anyone should be Robin anymore. But since you are… I don’t pull my punches because I know someone else won’t either.”

“I know!” Tim’s voice hinted at the possibility that he was smiling, “That’s what Barbara said. She told me not to hold it against you. They talk about you and Jason all the time. And Alfred… Well, you need to come see him. No one talks higher of you than him.”

Alfred. Esther missed him so much. What she wouldn’t give for one of his famous cookies right now. “And… Bruce?”

“Oh.” Tim took another hard right. They were getting close now. “Well, you know Bruce. Always hard to read. If anyone brings you up, he gets really quiet. I think he feels like he failed you. You and Jason. Sometimes I see him sitting at the piano, but he never plays it. But you did, didn’t you? So… I guess he thinks about you a lot.”

The piano was one of the few things that Esther had brought from the clinic with her. To this day, she never felt as peaceful as she did while playing the piano. After everything with Joker, it was the only thing that relaxed her.

But the fact that Bruce would sit there to think about her..? It was hard because Essie was so mad at Bruce. So angry at him for so much. For being too late to save Jason, leaving the Joker breathing and replacing Jason. It hurt so much. But he was her brother.

Jason wanted him dead. Esther could tell from how he’d talked about him the night before. Sometimes… Sometimes so did she. On the bad nights. The nights when she’d wake up and swear that Joker was about to start cutting her up again. On those nights, filled with terror and rage, she wished Bruce would suffer for not saving them.

But on the good nights? The nights where she’d find hidden packages on rooftops filled with medical supplies and a note asking her to come home. The nights when they’d run into each other, and she knew for a fact that he was letting her go. On those nights, Esther missed him too.

Grief and trauma were just- just so hard to process. Even with Jason back now, it didn’t erase all that had happened.

Esther could see the school quickly approaching, and she felt Tim start to bring the glider down gradually, “Hey, Tim?” She called to him, and Tim nodded in acknowledgment, “If you go into my room at the Manor, there’s an old Monopoly board under my bed. Thursdays around noon, Bruce and Dick eat lunch in the kitchen. It’s physically impossible for them to reject playing a game.”

Tim’s eyes softened, not that she could see them. He’d mentioned not feeling like he was a part of a family, and now she was giving him tips to experience it.

Maybe Esther wasn’t as bad as he’d thought she was.

“But if you go through any of my other shit, I will literally skin you alive.”

Maybe.

…

The windows to the school were boarded over entirely, and from the outside, any passerby would assume it was abandoned.

“Should I go through the front doors?” Esther scanned the area, not seeing much to be worried about from the outside.

“Is that a joke?” Barbara laughed over the comm link. “That place is probably swarming with Black Mask’s boys.” Esther squinted, spotting a side entrance around the corner of the building. It was blocked off, but the window next to it was shattered. With a bit of maneuvering, she could probably get through.

“I’ve got an alternative, but I’ll need help getting through the building.” Esther made her way to the window, pushing slowly on the board that covered the open frame.

“I’ve got the blueprints here!” Dick’s voice sounded through the comms, and Esther sighed.

She almost laughed at the fact that she heard Barbara sigh at the same time as her. Some things never change. “Sorry, Dick decided he wanted to ‘help’ from my end.”

“I don’t know what you’re apologizing for; I’m a delight.” Dick grumbled, “Anyways, that window goes to the old guidance counselor's office.” Dick paused, “Also, uh, Esther. I know it’s kinda weird timing and everything but um… Bruce is making me do this charity volleyball competition next month… it’s kind of lame… but you know-”

Esther heaved herself over the ledge and into the building. “If this can wait, Dick, please let it.” She grunted, and Dick went silent. The office was empty, as she expected. She left the window unblocked for a quick exit later.

“The tracker is coming from the west end of the building. It looks like it’s in the old cafeteria.” The building was starting to fall apart. This elementary school had been shut down in the 90s, and boy, did it look it. There was a poster on the wall of cartoon children holding hands around the world, and some other ethnicities were a little too… on the nose.

“Jesus,” Esther mumbled, silently exiting the room to walk the dark hallways. Here and there, little beams of sunlight peeked through cracks in the walls.

Footsteps stomping down the hall forced She-Wolf to jam herself into one of the dark cubbies in the wall. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it should be dark enough for her to go unnoticed for a little bit.

“Asshole’s gonna die soon either way. He'll run out of oxygen even if we can’t get the safe open.” Two of Black Masks men pass her, pausing a few feet past her to look around, “Or bleed out. Kenny got him pretty good earlier.”

Esther’s fists balled up. She wanted to kill them and be done with it, but that didn't feel right with Barbara and Dick listening in. Today just kept getting harder and harder.

Sneaking up behind them, Esther grabbed both of their heads and smashed them together as hard as she could. A sickening crack echoed throughout the room, and Esther blinked, blood pouring from one of their heads.

She may have overdone it.

In her defense, Essie hadn’t been pulling her punches for a while now.

“The effort was appreciated,” Barbara noted, and Esther was grateful for the acknowledgment. “Turn left up ahead.”

“Did she just murder those guys?” Tim’s voice came through the comms, and Esther inwardly groaned. Were they watching her like a sick soap opera?

Following Barbara and Dick’s instructions was easy, despite the winding hallways, the real challenge came when she peeked into the window of the cafeteria. Fuck. She ducked down quickly.

“Oracle, there’s like twenty guys in there. It looks like Black Mask put a giant safe into the old kitchen walk-in freezer. I think my guy is inside.”

“If they got into a shootout with that many guys, your friend probably locked themselves inside to try and wait them out.” Barbara sighed, “I don’t suppose you have any explosives on you?”

“I do, actually.” Esther hoisted herself on top of one of the cubbies and pushed a ceiling tile aside, jumping up and catching the ledge with her fingers before pulling herself up into the crawl space. “Problem is, if I blow the door, the pressure will melt my friend's brain.”

Crawling until she was over the cafeteria, Esther smirked, “I might have a better idea for them, though. Cover your ears.” And with that, she cracked open the ceiling tile just above where the men were using a blow torch to try and break through the vault. Esther lit her bundle of little bombs and waited precisely three and a half seconds before dropping them from the crack.

The timing was perfect. The bombs had barely touched the ground before exploding with a violent BOOM. Stronger than Esther had been expecting because it caused the ceiling tiles to give out, dropping her about 13 feet off the ground and landing her on her ass.

“Oh, did she just eat it?” Dick asked.

“Yeah.” Barbara laughed, “But when doesn’t she?”

Esther sat up, the smoke clearing and a couple of the men stirring as well, “Shut up.” Esther groaned. She got to her feet and smacked a couple heads into the floor, knocking them out and possibly causing permanent brain damage. Whoops. One guy was definitely dead, but Esther kept that detail to herself.

“You don’t have long before someone investigates that noise,” Barbara informed her, and Esther sighed. One problem at a time, and right now, her next problem was the six-inch thick steel safe she needed to open.

“Great. Now I just need to magically know the code.” It was a digital keypad; theoretically, she could hack it to open it, but that would take time she just didn’t have. “Let’s see… Seven letters long. Password hint: your favorite movie.”

Esther blinked. Black Mask’s favorite movie? Seven letters… No. It couldn’t be that easy, could it? She started typing into the keypad.

T-H-E-M-A-S-K

The safe gears whirred and clicked from inside until the door cracked open an inch. No way.

Esther swung the door open, and ran inside, pausing as she took in the sight in front of her.

Gold. Jewels. Weapons. Gold weapons that were bejeweled. Piled as high as her knees. At the far end of the safe, on top of one of the piles, sat Red Hood, his head lulling to one side, a pool of blood soaking into the stacks of gold coins he sat on top of.

Esther made a sound almost like a whimper in the back of her throat, rushing forward and kneeling at Jason’s side. He’d been shot between the armor plates on his abdomen and his thigh. Yeah, Kenny really did get some lucky shots in.

Jason wasn’t moving.

Taking his head in Essie’s hands, she shook him softly, “Hey, hey. Come on, don’t do this to me.” She put her forehead against his, “Wake up.”

No response.

“I still need you,” Esther whispered, tears stinging in her eyes. She couldn’t be too late. Not again.

Suddenly Jason let out a raspy cough, his body shifting slowly, and Esther nearly let out a sob of relief.

“Hey, you.” Jay was smiling under his mask. “I got you the Hana- the Hanuk- The candle stick thing.” Jason lifted the solid gold Hanukkiyah in his right hand off the ground by an inch before weakly dropping it again. Esther let out a strained laugh, letting her head fall to his chest.

“It’s a man? You’re saving a man? Who is he? Ask her how tall he is.” Esther’s ear twitched at how loud Dick was talking from Barbara’s side.

“Dick, be quiet.” Oracle sighed, “She-Wolf, Black Mask has another safe house about a mile away. If he knows you’re there, it won’t be long before reinforcements show up.”

Understood. But Jason wasn’t going anywhere in this state. Esther pulled a small black device from her belt, which, even with his mask on, Esther could tell Jason was staring at. “That’s gonna hurt, isn’t it?”

With a nod, Esther uncapped what appeared to be a lighter. Inside, however, was carbon subnitride which burned a hell of a lot hotter than the average lighter. With the push of a button, a blue-white flame lit itself, and Esther placed Jay’s hand on her thigh with her free hand, “Hold tight.”

The room filled with Jason’s strained grunting, his teeth gnashing together as Essie cauterized his wounds to slow his bleeding. His gloved fingers dug into the flesh of her leg, her heart aching; Esther had hoped never to hear him again in this kind of pain.

Once his wounds weren’t bleeding as bad, Esther hooked his arm around her shoulders, “We need to go.” Jason nodded in response, bracing himself as she lifted him up. They limped out of the safe, Esther taking Jason’s gun from his holster and holding it in her free hand.

“There’s not much ammo left.” Jay grunted, “You didn’t need to come. I was figuring it out on my own.”

“That’s what it looked like.” Esther’s snark made him roll his eyes. She moved them out of the cafeteria, “You swore up and down to me that you had this handled. I’m never listening to you again.”

Jason could tell that even though she was relieved that he was alive, Essie was pissed at him. So he mustered all the charm he could in his condition and hit her with it, “Have I mentioned how fucking tiny your waist looks in that suit? It’s hot.”

Her face heated up, knowing he was just laying on thick, but… it was working, “That’s nice; put your tongue back in your mouth.” They were headed down the main hallway, sticking close to the walls in case Esther had to drop Jason to fight.

“Oh, these two definitely smashed.” Barbara’s voice gave away the fact that she was absolutely beaming.

“No way, this guy’s just being a creep!” Dick was panicked.

“Does Dick always make an idiot of himself in front of Esther?” Tim asked, crunching on what sounded like… popcorn? That little shit.

“No!” “Yes.”

“Es, watch out!” Jason pushed his body weight against her, and they stumbled into a side hallway just in time to miss getting shot by some men hiding behind an open door. Esther got back on her feet, helping Jay back up, when she realized that her comms had gone dead silent.

That was until Dick Grayson broke that silence.

“I’m sorry. What did he just say?”

Fuck. “Did he just call you Es? As in Esther? As in, Esther Wayne?” Dick’s voice had gone up an octave, and he was clearly freaking the fuck out.

“I’m gonna need you to bring it down about three levels, please. I can explain later.” Esther spoke through her teeth as she shifted Jason to her other shoulder.

“Is that Night-turd?” Red Hood smirked under his mask.

There was a moment of silence over her headset, and Esther knew why. Only one person had ever called Dick ‘Night-turd’. But as far as Dick Grayson knew, that person was supposed to be six feet under. But suddenly, many things were making sense; she could hear the gears moving in his head.

Surprisingly, Barbara broke the silence, “Esther, what’s… going on?” Esther’s head was spinning; in one hand, she was supporting Jason’s weight; in the other, she was shooting anything that moved, and now her comms were blowing up in her ear… She was starting to miss working alone.

“You have got to learn to keep your mouth shut,” Esther grumbled, the two lurching down the hallway until they came to a three-way intersection. Shit, which way had she come in again?

“So it is Bird-Brain.” Jason laughed. “Long-time no see, Dicky-bird.”

Barbara gasped, and Dick was in complete shock based on the moment of silence.

Tim’s voice chimed in, “Is that…?”

“It’s not possible.” Barbara sounded like she was on the verge of tears. Honestly, so was Esther, but for entirely different reasons.

“Can he hear me?” Jason asked, not bothering to wait for an answer, “Hey, Dick? Fuck you.”

“It’s him.” Dick’s voice was deadpan.

“Everyone shut up right now, or I’m going to fucking rip someone’s throat out.” Esther exploded and everything went silent. She was extremely overwhelmed, and her head was spinning. Taking a deep breath, she re-centered herself mentally. “Barbara, which way? Now.”

“Right.” Was her only response, and it was eerily silent on their end now. Maybe it was the threat, but more than likely, it was the shock.

Esther hadn’t meant for them to find out this way, but what other options had she had?

“You’ve got Black Mask’s boys coming to the north.” Dick’s voice was cold like steel.

“Take the main exit.” Jason coughed, blood splattering across the front of his suit from it. “To the left, up ahead.” Esther followed his instructions, freezing in her tracks as, about 10 feet ahead of them, a man the size of a minivan stepped out from one of the side rooms.

“Ooooh… fuck.” Esther and the goon made eye contact. Now, Esther was a tall girl. But damn, this man was HUGE. Her incident with Bane had already proved that she wasn’t much of a match for guys this big.

Jason glanced at her, “Shoot him.” His tone was incredulous that she hadn’t done so already.

“I can’t.” Esther muttered, setting Jason down against the side of the wall as the behemoth stepped closer to them, “There’s a child present.” Jason shot her a confused look, and she tapped the side of her mask.

“Thanks for thinking of me!” Tim squeaked over the comms. “But I think you should be more concerned about Barbara. She hasn’t blinked in like… two minutes.”

She-Wolf gave the gigantic thug a wide berth, inching circles around him in a defensive stance. The guy was missing an arm, dragging an enormous sledgehammer in the other.

“Tim! One arm, massive, giant hammer, what intel have you got for me?” Esther could see his dark eyes locked onto her, like a wolf hunting a mouse.

“I-I don’t know- Barbara and Dick are in front of the computers, and they aren’t moving.”

“Abramavici!” Jason called from behind her, “He used to work for Joker. And who the fuck is Tim?”

That’s why he looked sort of familiar. He was there the night Joker’s men took her and Jason.

“On second thought, Tim. I’m gonna put you on hold.” Esther reached up and turned off her mic. This guy wasn’t walking out of here alive. And a gun was just too easy. “Alright, Big Boy, I guess this is round two.”

“He doesn’t speak English.” Jason grimaced through his pain. Good thing Esther hadn’t paid him any mind because it was at that exact moment that Abramavici charged at her.

He wasn’t swift, but god, was he just big. And he swung that hammer around like it didn’t weigh anything. As soon as he got total momentum, Esther ran straight towards him, sliding across the floor at the last minute to dodge his hammer. She slid right between his legs, ramming her elbow straight up as she passed underneath, making Abramavici stumble as he clutched at his private parts.

Jason clenched his teeth, not exactly feeling sorry for the guy but at least glad he wasn’t facing off with her.

Coming up on the other side of the giant, Esther scrambled to her feet. His back was now to her, and she dug her heels into the ground, bolting towards him. She veered to the side, kicking off the side of the wall and catapulting herself onto his shoulders, locking her thighs in a vice-like grip around his thick neck.

Abramavici stumbled around, shocked that she’d easily gotten on top of him. He swung his hammer fruitlessly as Esther locked her wrists together and brought her elbows down as hard as she could against his head, again and again, and again.

The man must have had an iron skull because he just took it like she was simply an annoying fly he was trying to swat away.

One enormous hand came up and grabbed her thigh, clamping down and throwing her like a towel across the room with a twist of his body. Esther rolled across the floor, absorbing the shock in her knees and elbows.

She used the momentum of the rolls to twist herself into a kneeling position, one hand resting on the floor and the other reaching up for her blade. Anger flared up in her chest; Esther was so over this.

In one fluid movement, Esther pushed herself off the ground and unsheathed her khopesh. Abramavici was waiting for her, swinging his hammer once more. Esther felt the air shift just millimeters from her face, but her body was moving independently, entirely confident in itself and its timing.

The hammer missed by a hair.

And as soon as it was past, Esther forced her feet off the ground, kicked off of the thug’s knee, and, using the power of her speed and her legs, shot herself into the air. Her body twisted in mid-air, adding to the thrust of her dark blade before she brought it down hard and unrelenting against his neck.

There was a moment of silence as her feet hit the floor, landing in perfect position.

A moment later, a loud thwack sounded as Abramavici’s head landed beside her, rolling a few feet away.

Jason watched with a dropped jaw, “Es,” His eyebrows furrowed, “Where did you learn that move?” His tone was hesitant, and Esther herself faltered.

“I-” She didn’t know. Batman had never taught it to her, and it wasn’t one she’d learned on her own. And yet Essie’s body had just… known exactly what to do.

Esther stood up, her head rushing as the adrenaline passed. She rushed over to help Jason back up. If they didn’t have time before, they were significantly out of it now. She could hear more men running down one of the hallways.

Jason kept glancing at her as they rushed towards the exit, “That… was a League technique.”

There wasn’t time for Esther to think too hard about what he was saying as she kicked the door open, mid-day sun flooding their eyes. Gunshots sounded behind them, and Esther cursed under her breath, “It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here!” Esther let the doors slam behind her.

The daylight disoriented Jason, and his body started to shut down from his injuries. “Over there.” He pointed weakly, and Esther saw what he was referring to… his bike. Esther dragged him across the street, throwing her leg over the side of the motorcycle. “Do you even know how to drive one of these?” Jay’s voice was concerned, but Essie had a feeling it was for the bike and not for her.

“Shut up.” She growled, Jason getting on behind her, his muscular arms holding her tight around her waist. Esther couldn’t lie- it was kind of hot. Her thighs clenched together tightly at his hands gripping her hips. “Just hold on.” She mumbled, her cheeks turning pink as he rested his head against her shoulder.

Revving up the engine, Esther tore off, bullets whizzing past them. Esther zoomed down different streets, riding in silence before noticing Jay's quietness. “Hey!” She called over her shoulder. No answer. “Jason!” She yelled. Essie could feel his arms slipping from her waist.

He was unconscious.

And just in time, two black cars pulled up on either side of her, windows cracking down and bullets blasting through the air. Esther Wayne just could not catch a break today.

Releasing one hand from the handlebars, Esther elbowed Jason in his gunshot wound, internally apologizing as he groaned loudly, arms tightening around her again. Thank god.

“Ouch.” He grumbled.

“Now would be a good time to use the gun!” Esther yelled over the wind, using the size of the motorcycle to her advantage as she wove in and out of traffic.

The Red Hood reached down her thigh and pulled his gun out, firing at the tires of the car to their right. The tires imploded, and the vehicle veered off the side of the road; into the side of a building.

Just one left.

Esther glanced ahead, ducking her head to avoid getting shot as Jason and the other car exchanged gunfire. The light about a hundred feet up flicked red and opposite traffic began to move through it. Shit.

She thought the word too soon, groaning as an eighteen-wheeler slowed to a stop in the middle of the approaching intersection.

Jason wasn’t going to like the idea brewing in her head.

“Jay!” Essie called back to him, and his shots paused.

“A little busy here, sweetheart!” He shouted back.

She-Wolf swallowed hard and hit the throttle, the bike jolting forward suddenly, “Stop firing and just hold on!”

Jason’s eyes went wide as he realized her plan, “No, no, no!” Too late to stop her now, Jay gripped her hips with a deathlock as Esther pushed all their weight onto one side of the bike, tipping it over and skidding them parallel with the ground as they slid underneath the belly of the semi-truck.

As soon as they were clear on the other side, Esther used all her strength to tip the motorcycle back onto its center. “Holy shit!” Jason moaned in her ear, and Esther bit down on her lip. She’d always known that adrenaline made her horny, but damn, she needed to calm down.

“You just earned a fucking lifetime ban from my bike!” Jason yelled over the wind, Esther slowing down as no other cars were in pursuit.

Esther grinned under her mask, “That was fun!”

She turned to the right, and Jay looked around. “Where are you going?” He asked, but he had a feeling that he knew.

“I’m sorry!” Esther sighed, “I don’t know how to fix you up, and you keep going in and out of consciousness. I gotta take you to Alfred.”

“No.” Jay tightened his grip on her; a warning. “Take me to my place,” He coughed up some more blood, “I have what I need there-”

“Jay-” Esther’s eyes flickered.

“Just do it!” Jason groaned against her, “Seventh and Twelfth.”

…

Esther pulled the bike into the alleyway, practically falling down the steps of his stoop as she held Jay against her. They stumbled into his apartment, and Esther blinked.

It was… charming. An apartment beneath a townhouse on the upper west side of Gotham, a nice neighborhood. It was small but had tall, Victorian walls and surprisingly large windows for being level with the street outside. A living area and kitchen greeted them, and Jay had clearly been renovating the space as it was half painted and plastic covered everything.

“Wow, and here I am squatting in a church.” Esther blinked before helping him to his room.

Jason was losing consciousness again, but he managed a “Door at the end of the hallway.” Before drooping weakly.

He was going to die. Again. If she didn’t do something soon. But she was honestly out of her depth on this one. Who knew what kind of internal bleeding he had?

Esther opened the door and threw him onto the bed inside. Now, this room seemed more like Jason. Neat and tidy. Weapons decorated the walls, and a bookshelf was over his bed frame. Essie laid him up in his bed, removed his mask, and shook his shoulders, “Red. Come on, Red. I need you to tell me what to do. Where’s your stuff?”

His eyes remained shut, but Jason lifted his hand to point at a dresser across the room. Esther scrambled to it and searched the drawers, finding nothing but clothes. Until she noticed the false bottom on the lowest drawer. She pulled it up and saw a box. This had to be what Jason was talking about.

Ripping it open, two silver pendants were nestled into a velvet cushion. What the hell? Esther picked one up with shaking fingers, eyeing it closely. There was a thin ridge a third of the way down the pendant, and Esther realized it wasn’t a pendant at all. It was a vial.

Rushing to Jason’s side, Esther twisted the vial open and forced his mouth open, pouring the glowing green liquid down his throat in one fell swoop.

Esther sat back on her heels beside him, her hand on his cheek. Her breathing was labored as she studied him, waiting for any response.

Jason stirred, coughing harshly. Esther could see the pink rush back to his cheeks, and she let out a sigh of relief, “Jesus Christ.” She laughed in reprieve.

“You don’t even believe in that guy,” Jay smirked, his eyelashes fluttering as he peered up at her. He looked so lazy like he was melting into the bed. “You mind helping me out of my suit? The blood is sticky.” He grimaced, and Esther made quick work of pulling his suit from his skin.

A sickening squelch sounded as she removed the armor around his gunshot wound, but once it was gone, she stared in shock. There was no wound. Just a scar. Essie traced the mark with her fingertip. “That liquid… Was that..?”

“From the Lazarus pit? Yeah.” Jason sighed, already looking about a hundred times better. “A little souvenir I brought back from North Africa when the League returned to Gotham. I made it this long without using one, and now I’ve only got the one left.” He rubbed at his face. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know I promised I’d be back before you woke up.” He lifted his hand and brushed her hair away from her cheek, his eyes scanning her body as Essie worked on removing his tactical pants, “What about you, are you okay?”

Esther stifled a laugh, and she pulled his boots off, “You’re asking me if I’m okay? You were literally dying not even two minutes ago.” Her fingers were trembling as she stood up and returned with a wet rag to clean his wounds. But Jay’s eyes were lasered in on her tremors.

“When did those start?” It felt good as the warm rag gently wiped the blood from his skin.

“The shakes?” Esther asked, and he nodded. “After the Joker.” She sighed, “They come and go. How does this feel?” She was pressing lightly on his thigh, where his other bullet wound was. She was kneading her knuckles into the area, which loosened the muscles in a way the Lazarus water just couldn’t.

Jay moaned softly, “Really nice, actually.” He stretched his leg out, sighing in contentment as she brought both hands to work into his tired muscles. Esther squirmed on the bed, swallowing hard at the noises falling from Jason’s lips as she rubbed out the tension from his thigh. “Essie,” Jason peeked an eye open, “You’re bleeding.”

Sure enough, she was. Her hip had a rose blossoming from it. One of the bullets must have grazed Essie while on the bike. “Oh, shit.” She muttered, peeling her own suit off until she was standing in her spandex shorts and sports bra. The shorts barely covered her ass cheeks, and the sports bra didn’t do her smaller-than-average breasts any favors.

Yet Jason was drinking in every inch of her with greedy eyes.

The cut on her hip was a few inches across but, luckily, not that deep. Esther held the rag tightly against it to stop the bleeding.

Jason pushed her fingers aside and held the rag there, pushing her, so she sat on his lap. The pressure he applied to her wound was firm but tender. “You shouldn’t have had to come save me. I-” He rolled his eyes, “I was distracted, and Roman’s boys got the drop on me.”

The truth was that all night his mind had kept wandering back to his time with his girl. His girl. Even now, that sounded so delectable in his head. The way it felt to fill Esther to the brim the night before, to finally, finally, claim her as his. Yet it hadn’t been enough, and he knew from the beginning it wouldn’t be. Jason knew that the moment he tasted Essie, there’d be no quitting her.

Esther could see him getting lost in his thoughts, and she wiggled on his lap until she was comfortable, enjoying how her movements pulled him from his head. “That’s okay,” Esther bit her lip, “We all get distracted sometimes.”

Was she- Flirting with him? Jason studied her expression, how she batted her lashes at him and how her chest had turned bright red. She was. She was flirting with him.

“Oh,” Jason raised an eyebrow, “You mean like how distracted you were on my bike?” He smirked, remembering how she’d pushed up against him when he wrapped his arms around her waist and how her facial expression lagged when he groaned in her ear. Esther looked away in embarrassment, and Jay snatched her chin in his hand, “You thought I didn’t notice?”

He forced Esther to look at him, enjoying the way her chest was suddenly rising and falling rapidly. Jason moved to sit up, but Esther put her hands on her chest and pushed him back down, “No.” She said firmly, her bottom lip jutted out in an enticing pout. “I wanna help you relax.” Essie’s fingers traced the edge of Jay’s black boxers, and Jason felt himself twitch from underneath the soft fabric.

Esther palmed at Jay's growing erection through the thin cotton, causing Jason to exhale softly. Sometimes this still didn’t feel real. Esther Wayne wanted Jason Todd. It was inexplicable, and yet, as she freed his cock from its fabric prison, she was looking at him like she wanted to devour him.

She snaked her body downward, resting between his thighs. Jay’s massive thighs made her look small, and as she took his dick in her hands and licked a stripe from base to tip, those thighs tightened and flexed. Jay was so fucking hard right now. His hand tangled in her hair, trying and failing to hold it back for her.

Gentle kisses were placed along his shaft, followed by her sweetly licking at his swollen and throbbing head. She lapped at the slit there, tasting that salty bead of pre-cum that had escaped. “O-oh God.” Jason groaned, his hips pushing himself against her lips, desperate to feel them close around him.

“He’s not here right now.” Esther smirked, swirling her tongue around his pulsing red tip, “Just me.” And without wasting another second, Esther pushed his fat cock past her lips and down her throat, letting her mouth pool with spit before pulling back off of him, a line of saliva connecting her mouth and his cock together.

Holy shit. Jason couldn’t look away from her; she didn’t even look ashamed of the spit line; instead, she just let more drip off her tongue and down his shaft. “Fuck, you’re a messy girl.” He breathed, so fucking transfixed by her.

Esther nodded, never breaking eye contact as she relaxed her jaw and went back to sloppily sucking his dick. Her pace was achingly slow, her fingers wrapped around his base and matching time with her ministrations. Essie’s spit dripped down over her fingers, only making her movements more messy and wet.

The sounds coming from her mouth and fingers were unholy. God, Esther was so messy, and Jason fucking loved it. His grip in her hair tightened, and he forced her to take the entirety of his cock; causing her to choke around it. “You like sucking my cock?” Jay asked, holding her still with his dick halfway down her esophagus.

Esther’s eyes started to water, her face becoming pudgy and pink, but she nodded anyway, “Mhrgm.” Essie garbled, laying her tongue flat against him, and she bobbed her head up and down a little faster.

“Oh, holy fuck, you do.” Jason breathed heavily, using his grip on her nape to guide her movements, trying not to cum at the sight of her hot tears falling against his lower stomach.

He just knew she was giving him all she had, and it was more than enough. Jason could see her nipples through her sports bra, and he fought the urge to rip through her clothes again. Jason held her head steady suddenly, caressing her cheek for only a moment before rutting his hips up fast and hard.

If she was going to give it all to him, Jay would take it all from her. Jason fucked himself roughly into her mouth, relishing the warm, wet sensation around his shaft. She looked so perfect, getting fucked into like this. “You take me so well, baby. You do such a good job taking this cock.” He growled, his hips moving at an almost rabid rate at this point.

And Essie fucking loved every second of this, her thighs clenching together tightly at the sight of Jason turning animalist above her. She was soaking wet at the sight of him. And those praises tumbling from his mouth? Esther would do anything just to hear those words said so sweetly yet carnally again.

Esther looked up at Jay through her lazy, fucked out eyes, moving her fingers to caress his balls. Jason couldn’t look away from her; she looked like a goddamn wet dream of his. “O-Oh shit-” He squeezed his eyes shut briefly as Esther hummed around his shaft, the vibrations sending him to another fucking planet, “Oh baby, you keep doing that, and I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth.”

There was literally no fucking thing she wanted more.

Pushing her hair back from her face, Esther swallowed down more of Jay, more than she thought was possible. As he bottomed out inside her throat, Essie gave him big innocent eyes, and that was it for Jason, “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum. I-I’m g- I’m gonna-” He panted multiple times, fucking into her mouth at a crazed, uneven pace before pulling out just enough to coat her lips and gaping mouth with his hot load of salty cum. His stomach twitched and seized as he squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth hanging open as he moaned loudly.

Esther swallowed it down, licking at her lips and savoring the taste of Jason on her tongue. He opened his eyes in time to watch her clean his cock off with her lips, and Jason seriously considered fucking her into the next week.

Once he was all clean, Esther wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, grinning up at Jason, who was still breathing heavily, eyes half-lidded in ecstasy. Jay pulled her by her hair until she was eye-level with him before bringing her in for a lazy, slopping kiss. He could taste himself on her tongue, and he growled from the back of his throat.

Pulling herself from the kiss, Esther placed a tender peck on Jay’s forehead, “I’m gonna go get a drink.” She bolted off of him, Jay sighing in contentment as he slipped his softening cock back into his boxers.

Oh god, that was so much better than he’d ever imagined it. Even now, as he could hear her rustling in his kitchen, his body was like jello, as if he had no bones in his entire body.

When Esther returned, she had two glasses of water in her hands. Jason eagerly took one and gulped it down, not remembering the last time he had drank some water. “Thanks.” He placed the glass on the side table before hooking his arms around Essie’s waist and pulling her onto the bed, cradling her in his arms. Jason littered kisses all over her face, which screwed up in mock sourness. “Oh, don’t act like you hate me now,” Jay teased, “Not after you left me face fuck you like a little slut.”

Esther’s face heated up, and she laughed aloud, smacking Jason in the arm, “Asshole.” Jay yawned heavily, his eyes struggling to stay open. Esther brushed his cheek with her thumb, “But an asshole that needs to sleep.”

Jason huffed, “No, I need to follow up on some leads. Can you bring me my laptop from the office?” He yawned again, and Esther gave him a guilty look.

“See,” She scratched his scalp soothingly, “I thought you might say that….”

Red squinted at her suspiciously, “What..?”

“You need to rest.” Essie pouted, “No if, and’s, or but’s… So I maybe crushed up like six of your melatonins and put it in your drink.” She said it so fast that Jason almost didn’t catch any of it, but he still managed to decipher her words and groaned.

“Es, those are prescription strength.” His eyelids felt so, so heavy. And wow, had his pillows always been so comfy?

“I know.” Esther bit the inside of her cheek, “Sorry.”

She slowly got off Jason, his eyes closing a moment later. Esther threw a blanket over the top of Jay and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Stubborn little bitch.” Jason mumbled before dozing off into a deep, drug-induced, but well-needed sleep.

…

The shower pressure in this apartment was heavenly.

Esther hadn’t had a proper shower in ages. At least not one where she wasn’t nervous that a nun would hear her and call the cops.

So its high pressure and warm, soothing water felt amazing against her skin. As if all the tension in her body was melting from her skin and swirling down the drain. She missed this, having a space of her own to deflate. At the beginning of striking out on her own, Esther had tried renting multiple times, but each time Bruce would show up to try and ‘talk some sense into her.' Even when she tried using fake names. So going entirely off the grid was the only option he’d left her with.

And this place really took Essie by surprise. It was… genuinely stunning. A model of old Gotham architecture that looked like Jay was renovating to have a touch of modernism. But why? Seemed like a weird hobby to have in between working for the League of Shadows.

Coming out of the shower, her bare feet shivered at the cool touch of tile beneath her. Her eyes caught on the drain in the middle of the black and cream patterned tile… Okay, now that made sense. She could picture Jay washing down the blood from his exploits.

She wrapped a towel around her battered, bruised, and scarred body before walking back into Jason’s room. Jason was sprawled out across his dark comforter, snoring quietly. The sight made her smile. Safe and sound. Before walking to his closet, Esther paused at his bookshelf. Pride and Prejudice, Persuasion, Wuthering Heights… Twelfth Night. That one caught her eye. Jason loved the regency era but hated Shakespeare. Twelfth Night was Esther’s favorite.

Thumbing at its spine, Esther pulled the hardcover from the shelf and flipped through the pages to find countless notes in sloppy black ink. One particular part was underlined and caught her eye…

“Make me a willow cabin at your gate,

And call upon my soul within the house;

Write loyal cantons of contemned love

And sing them loud even in the dead of night;.”

Esther’s heart thumped in her chest. Of all the lines, he liked that one. Shaking her head and trying to hide the meek smile on her lips, Essie put the book back on its shelf before walking to the closet and picking out an old gray t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants.

As she dropped her towel, Esther caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her body looked… broken. But the part Esther hated most, that made it hard to look at her reflection was the three gashes across her stomach.

Esther typically covered them with makeup, high-waisted pants… or just any way she could. Those three gashes were from day fifty-six with the Joker… The day he invited Victor Zsasz to come and play…

Shivers ran down her spine, and Esther quickly slipped the oversized shirt over her head. If it was out of sight, it was out of mind. The sweatpants hung loosely around her hips, but that’s how she liked it anyway.

A sound made her freeze. Clinking was coming from outside of the room. Like… Someone was in the kitchen. Esther snatched a gun from Jason’s nightstand. She slowly eased the bedroom door open, slipping around the corner, and unclicked the safety as she pressed herself against the wall that separated the hallway from the kitchen.

More shuffling could be heard, and Esther recognized a distinct chopping sound. Someone was definitely in there, and they were… cooking?

“I know you’re there, alsaghir.” Little one. Esther’s eye twitched, wondering again why she could understand that word. And why that silky, smooth voice sounded just so… recognizable.

Esther peeked around the corner to find a strange sight.

Talia al Ghul cutting up vegetables in Jason's kitchen.

“I brought ingredients for tabbouleh.” Talia was achingly stunning, her clothing accenting her otherworldly beauty. Her voice was dripping honey, “You loved it when I would make this for you.”

Esther approached slowly, lowering her gun, “I- We’ve never met before.” She squinted, and Esther was greeted with the same splitting headache from earlier in the day.

“Are you sure of that, alsaghir?” Talia’s soft brown hair fell perfectly around her oval face, her skin like moonlight. No wonder Bruce had a soft spot for her. “My father sends his congratulations on completing your rite. The first of many to come. Although he would ask that in the future you accept no help from your… comrades.”

Leaning against the wall, Esther studied Talia. “That’s… nice of you to deliver the message.” And also highly inconvenient for Talia to come all this way. “I hope it wasn’t a long drive.” She raised an eyebrow, and Talia laughed at her attempt at small talk.

“Jason is doing well then?” Talia asked, turning her back to check on the flatbread she was warming on the stovetop. Esther couldn’t lie. It smelled heavenly. But something in Talia’s tone caused her eyes to narrow.

“He’s resting.” She answered simply. “Why are you here, Talia? You didn’t come all this way to check on Jason and me. One of your handmaidens could have done that for you.”

Removing the flatbread from the heat, Talia turned back to Esther and placed the fluffy carb onto a plate at the small table. “Sit.” She instructed, and Esther felt the urge to obey for some reason. Slowly, she sat at the place that Talia had prepared for her, taking a sip of the water that had been placed there.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed a significant lack in your memories by now.” Talia raised an eyebrow at Esther, and Essie blinked. How did she-? “Probably starting from the moment my father met with you this morning. Things you can’t remember, things you shouldn’t know but do… Perhaps even a change in your fighting skills.”

What the hell was going on here? How could Talia possibly know what was going on in her head today?

“Jason begged my father to leave you out of his plans, but as I’m sure you know, the Demon is not easily swayed by the demands of others.” Talia chopped some parsley into fine pieces, “So tell me, Sadiyah, what do you remember of your childhood?”

There was that name again, so foreign, yet… it didn’t feel wrong to answer to it. “Stop calling me that.” Essie’s eye twitched again, but her voice was much more timid than usual.

“Why wouldn’t I use the name given to you at birth?” Talia tossed all the chopped ingredients together, “But I suppose I should be more understanding. It’s not like you remember.”

Her words made Essie’s head pound, “What… are you talking about?” Esther rubbed at her temple.

“You have had something stolen from you, Sadiyah, and you don’t even know it.” Talia placed the bowl of food in front of Esther before squeezing a lemon over the top, “Do you truly believe that my father would have created something like you- something with so much potential and then just left you in the care of strange doctors? Eat.”

The food did look fantastic, and Esther was starving. She eyed Talia; Esther used the soft, warm bread to scoop up some of the salad(?) that Talia had made. The moment it hit her tongue, her head panged like it was going to split open. She had tasted this before; Esther knew it. But she also had no memory of it. “You’re saying… Ra’s has my memories?” She choked out, eyes squeezed shut in pain.

A flash of an image crossed her mind, Talia al Ghul sitting criss-cross in front of her, swords laid out between them, as they both ate from bowls containing food that looked a lot like what sat in front of Esther right now.

“Ahh,” Talia hummed, “I knew you’d remember this. You would have eaten my tabbouleh every day had I permitted.” She leaned against the kitchen counter, “And not necessarily. He stole them, yes, but he never truly took them from you.” Esther continued to eat (What could she say, it was really good), “They live inside you yet. Just… locked away. And all you need is the key.”

A sigh escaped Esther’s lips, “A key, I’m guessing, that you have?”

“An astute observation, Sadiyah.” Each time Talia used that name, Esther winced. “Yes, I have what you need to remember….”

The older woman trailed off, and Esther rolled her eyes, “And you want something in return?”

Talia placed the dirty dishes in the sink before she turned once more to give Esther a sly smile, “You need not concern yourself. It’s an easy task. I simply need you to deliver something for me to your brother.”

“Deliver what?” Esther’s eyes narrowed once more, wondering if it was a weapon, a message, or some weird sex thing. All three of those sounded annoying at best to deal with.

“Aidkhul!” Talia called over her shoulder, and Jason’s front door opened. A small frame entered the room, covered in a heavy cloak with snowflakes decorating the dark fabric.

The figure removed its hood, and Esther’s jaw tightened. Perhaps a child would not have been so shocking, but it was the child’s face that astonished her- the boy child couldn’t have been older than eight years old, and yet he looked exactly like…

“Sadiyah, this is my son. The rightful heir to the Demon.” Talia put her arm around the boy, whose eyes were examining Esther like she was his prey. Esther met him with the same calculative stare.

“Damian.”

tags: @niphredil-14 @honeybee54321 @princesscumdump444

156 notes · View notes