#the magic wore off in the morning no worries

[illusionsofdreaming]

Bound to You - Choi Han

Notes: If anyone still remembers Cale's version, here's Choi Han's version - though it's a bit more nostalgic haha. Pt.3 Alberu coming up soon. Ft: Choi Han

Choi Han

As always, a perfectly normal day gets sidetracked by a surprise attack.

An enemy mage leapt out from the shadows, spouting vengeance and the usual villainous spiel everyone’s sick and tired of, magic shooting out their hands. Everything happened at once as everyone acted upon the unspoken but unanimous decision to protect the weakest in your group: Cale. 

As the others rushed the mage, you and Choi Han leapt to push the aghast young master away, just in time to bodily receive the blast yourselves. 

The world spun sickeningly as you were flung away, breath knocked out your lungs as your back collided with a tree.

You groaned as you fought to keep your breakfast down. There was an annoying ringing in your ears, and your limbs prickled with the sensation of pins and needles.

“________?” You looked up at Choi Han’s soft query, surprised to find his expression pinched with discomfort. “Are you alright?”

“Yes…” You answered slowly, mentally assessing your own body’s state. It would take more than being thrown across the clearing to take you down but the tingling on your skin made you hesitate. As you made to stand, an overwhelming wave of dizziness swept over you, and pain lanced through your consciousness, sending black dots swimming in your vision.  

You would’ve fallen again had Choi Han not stepped in to steady you. Two realisations hit you in quick succession: one, you were definitely not injured enough to feel so terrible, and two, the moment Choi Han made contact with you, the nigh unbearable pain you felt was relieved almost instantly. 

What…? You glanced up and finally noticed your companion’s sickly pallor, the beads of sweat against his forehead and the tremors in his hands as he steadied you. As you met his gaze, Choi Han’s grim expression seemed to confirm your worst suspicions.

Something was really, really off.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── 

A curse of distortion targets one’s mana and twists it against itself. Rampaging mana would eventually tear its hosts apart. Fortunately, in a strange twist of fate, when both of you were hit, the magic split between two sources of mana seemed to have reached an uneasy balance - though just barely. Although neither of you were at immediate risk of imploding, the moment either of you moves too far away from each other, the fragile balance of your unstable manas would collapse, causing unimaginable pain.

After some trial and error, maintaining some sort of physical contact seemed to neutralise the worst of the side effects. It was decided you’d hold hands until your manas naturally settle with time.

You glanced down at your linked hands, you flexed your fingers in his grip. 

You quickly learned that constantly maintaining a firm grasp on another’s hands presented its own set of challenges. Unused to your suddenly narrowed range of movement, you’d often pull each other off-balance as you headed in different directions or moved before the other was ready. Even performing simple tasks became a hassle as you struggled with only one usable hand and your non-dominant hand to boot. Menial chores took twice as long to complete and anything that required any degree of dexterity was off the table. 

To make matters worse, Choi Han seemed uncomfortable with physical touch. He couldn’t seem to meet your eyes directly and twitched every time you moved your fingers. You didn’t blame him, being stuck alone in the Forest of Darkness for tens of years does things to people. You’d give him some distance if you could but the curse seemed to affect you more than him as you’d discovered when you separated briefly to tend to nature’s calling only for Choi Han to rush to your side when you nearly blacked out from the pain that overwhelmed you. Swordmasters must be built differently since the distance only caused Choi Han a massive migraine and nothing more. 

You sighed forlornly, stretching your fingers and closing them, gracefully pretending that you didn’t notice Choi Han shiver beside you. How was it possible that two unparalleled warriors, each an expert in their own field, when put together, would result in less than one fully functional person? You could only imagine what havoc it’d cause if you’re suddenly forced into combat.

“Maybe we’re not so compatible after all.” You mused aloud, thinking perhaps this was a good time to reflect on changing your training techniques. It’s true most close ranged fighters would usually pair up with mid to long ranged partners to cover each other’s weaknesses. Maybe you could give spear handling a try? You hadn’t noticed how Choi Han stiffened beside you.

“I just need some time… to get used to it.” You glanced at him, wondering how getting used to being attached by the hands would help cover each other’s openings but you managed a nod in response to his sudden determination. Swordmasters probably knew what they’re doing, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Swordmasters do know what they’re doing after all.

Though it started off rough, after a few more collisions, stumbles and painful falls, you’ve started to piece together the patterns of your partner. You began to recognise the minute shift in his movements that indicate direction and have a better grasp on how much ‘space’ he actually takes. You were moving more efficiently, able to gauge where he would step and shift accordingly to avoid impeding his movements or yanking him. Choi Han, too, began to relax. His grip used to be light and weak, as if wary of his strength, now his grasp is firm and comfortable in yours as you walk side by side. 

One thing about being stuck next to another person in close proximity for an indefinite amount of time meant conversations you wouldn't typically have time for soon filled the air between you. You traded insights on favourite colours (such as the flash of light as dawn breaks and the iridescent blue shine of lakes), preferred fruits (he liked strawberries, while you’d prefer citruses), and even contemplated on potential career changes once everything settles. The conversations delved into seemingly insignificant details, which, when combined, shaped the people you’ve become.

You fed another stick into the fire and glanced at the starry skies, leaning into Choi Han’s side. The camp was quiet, everyone else had retired to their sleeping bags as you and Choi Han volunteered to keep watch.

“Do you miss home?”

The fire popped and crackled as he prodded the coals. “It would be a lie to say that I don’t.” he answered eventually.

You resisted the urge to turn around and see his expression. “Would you go back if you could?”

It was a question that was on everyone’s minds that no one dared ask and perhaps even in the silence of the campsite, and even with your close relationship with him, you still weren’t worthy of asking such a personal question. You wouldn’t push and Choi Han knew he wasn’t obliged to answer either.

It meant the world to you, when he did, regardless.

“It’s a place that has probably moved on without me.” he said. “Even if I could, I don’t think it’s my place to return and disrupt the peace anymore.”

“Besides,” you turned to see him watching you with a wistful smile, “I have found a new home. I don’t mind leaving relics where they belong.”

A bittersweet feeling became lodged in your throat as you turned to watch the fire, hoping it would hide the sudden wetness in your eyes. “As if we’ll let you leave.” you scoffed, “Even if a portal suddenly opens and sucks you in, I’m going to drag you back here kicking and screaming.“

Choi Han’s laugh was warm and comforting and his grip tightened on yours. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “I’m counting on it.”

[vivwritesfics]

Mrs Doctor Reid

Nobody knew Spencer had a wife. But they found out. Nobody knew she was pregnant, not until she walks into the BAU sporting a sizeable bump.

1.2K

Season 4 Reid

Nobody on the team knew that Spencer Reid had a wife. Spencer Reid, the youngest member of the team, the resident genuis. He had a wife. And nobody knew. (Well, JJ knew, but she wasn't about to spill his secrets).

Before he had joined the BAU, Spencer had been engaged. They'd gotten married after his first year with the team, but neither of them wore a ring on their finger. She wore it around her neck and he carried it with him, fingerings it in the privacy of his hotel room.

Spencer told JJ. He had to tell somebody, just in case something happened to him. JJ was more than happy to keep her a secret for him. And, once she met Will, she understood why he wanted to keep her secret, keep her to himself.

Morgan was the first to find out. The case was a pickup artist, an unsub that was patrolling clubs to pick up women and murder them.

Morgan and Reid had been in the clubs, handing out flyers to give to the potentially vulnerable women. When Spencer teased Morgan for getting a lack of phone numbers, he challenged him. So, Spencer used magic to impress the girl at the bar. "Well, if you see anything, call me," he'd said with his usual awkward smile.

The awkward smile his wife loved.

"And, if I don't see anything?" She asked, obviously flirting with him. "Can I still call you?"

Again, Spencer wore that smile. "Uh, my wife would prefer it if you only called if you saw anything."

When Spencer turned around, he saw the expression drop from Morgan's face. "Reid, you're married?" He asked, and Spencer nodded. "I'm so sorry, man. I didn't know."

"Nobody did," Spencer replied.

When the team found out, they felt incredibly guilty. They couldn't help but think back to Tobias Hankel and when Reid got kidnapped. She had no idea. His wife must have been sat in their apartment, alone and worried.

But JJ smoothed things out, assured them that Reid's wife was kept updated while Spencer was kidnapped. JJ told her what she needed to know and kept her calm.

But now they'd been married for four years. Spencer started wearing his ring after the team found out. He called her in front of the others while they were working on a case.

The team was so happy their resident genius was in love.

They knew about his wife, about the love of his life, but they didn't know about the baby.

Kids was always on the cards, but they had waited. Spencer's career was taking off when they got married and, with how often he was away, it didn't feel right.

But they weren't careful. It wasn't like Doctor Reid to not be careful like that. She was on birth control and there was always condoms in top drawer next to their bed.

But they slipped up just once. She'd forgotten to take her pill and hadn't noticed (Spencer was good with gently reminding her when he could. This hadn't been one of those times), and Spencer hadn't reached for a condom.

Neither of them quite realised they weren't being safe. Not until she realised there was an odd number of pills in the packet at the end of the day. She'd taken both pills, the number should have been even.

But she didn't panic. Didn't mention anything to Spencer. What was the chance she was actually pregnant? She kept things quiet until the morning sickness started. Until she took a test, and then another, and then another. When they all came back positive, she called Spencer.

She didn't normally call Spencer while he was on a case. He was busy, she waited for him to call her in the evenings, when he was in the hotel room and he wanted to hear about her day. Spencer couldn't help but assume that something was wrong.

Far from it. Everything was perfect. The minute Spencer got home he pulled her into his arms, his face in her hair. "I love you," he whispered again and again and again.

Spencer didn't tell the team. Didn't want them to worry while he was on cases.

She became, admittedly, a little clingy when she began showing. Not to the extreme of stopping him from going on cases, but, whenever he was home, she was attached to him.

And Spencer couldn't say no to his wife. She was craving pizza? He was getting pizza. She wanted him to read to her? He was bringing in a selection of books, sitting her on the sofa and rubbing her swollen feet with one hand while he read.

If she wanted to bring him something to eat, he'd text her when they were landing to do paperwork.

It didn't matter the time. Mrs Doctor Reid made two sandwiches and set off for her husbands place of work.

She had met the team a couple of times before. It wasn't many, but it was enough for her to be friendly with them. With a science museum tote bag over her shoulder, she stepped out of the elevator and walked into the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit.

Morgan spotted her first. "Hey, Mrs Reid," he called, gaining the attention of the rest of the BAU. But then Morgans eyes widened. "Holy shit," he couldn't stop himself from saying.

Emily let out a gasp as she walked over. "Congratulations, Mrs Boy Wonder," she said as she hugged her. Mrs Reid hugged her back.

Hotch shouted his Congratulations through his office doorway to the happy couple. As he did so, Morgan walked over and placed his hands on Spencers' shoulders. "My man," he said quietly and let go.

With a fond smile, Spencer pushed his hair back. He grabbed his chair and wheeled it over to her. "Hi Honey," he said softly, sitting her down on the chair.

Her bag was in her lap as Spencer wheeled her over to his desk. "I missed you," she said, pushing her own fingers through his hair.

Spencer softly smiled at her. "I missed you too," he whispered as she grabbed his hand. Public displays of affection weren't Spencers thing but, for his pregnant wife, he'd do anything.

She quickly let go of him and opened her bag. "I brought sandwiches," she said as she pulled one out and passed it to Spencer. He leaned against the desk as he unwrapped it, keeping hold of it as she unwrapped the second. Once they were open, they swapped. She took the sandwich from him and he took the sandwich from her.

As they ate, they spoke. She didn't ask about the case, she never did. No, she asked about the city and whether he'd been eating well.

Spencer assured her that he had been eating well. The conversation they had was the one they normally had in the evenings, when he was on a case.

He pressed his hand to her bump for a quick second as he finished his sandwich. "I've got paperwork to finish up," he said and rested his hand on her shoulder. "Wanna sit with me while I get it done?"

She nodded her head and Spencer grabbed another chair. As he worked she kept one hand to her bump, the other holding Spencers.

[clockwayswrites]

Both Ways at Once Part 4

WC: 668, Masterpost

Jason inched forward and pressed his ear to the door Tim had just gone through.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.

There was silence, then “Where’s Jason?”

That was Dick. He’d been staying at the manor since it all happened. It was a little weird to have him a round like that.

“Asleep. He’s still getting exhausted too easily.”

Dick would buy it, of course he would. For one, it was true; Jason was exhausted. For another, Jason had been good. He rested when he was told. He ate when he was fed. He spent most of his time awake in the library just reading. He was passive.

He may have set them up, but it was their own damn fault if they bought it.

Dick let out a sigh. “Yeah, I know, I’m worried about that. So’s Bruce. They had Constantine bring in another specialist…”

“No good?”

“Don’t know. He sorta…” Dick laughed but it was strung out sounding. “He phased into the cell and then refused to let go of Hood. Or Hood refused to let go of him, we’re not sure. They’re in a meeting room now. According to him, they were basically torturing Hood by keeping him locked up in the Watchtower—”

Jason didn’t hear anything else. Blood was rushing in his ears. They were hurting him.

When he had come to in that basement, Jason had been confused. He hadn’t known how he had gotten there or what was happening. But also he had. Part of him had known, instinctively, that the huge man next to him was important and that they needed to stay close together.

His head had felt like it was splitting in two as what he knew and what was overlapped. His skin had felt too tight, like he had been stuffed into it. Everything had hurt. And so when his family had arrived and whisked him one way and the other man another, Jason had let them.

He had regretted it ever since.

Bruce and Constantine had sat him down the next morning, explaining that he had been hit with a magical spell that affected him mentally and physically. He had been split into two. He wanted to see the other part of him, but they said no. They had to find out more about the situation first, he was told. There could be a magical backlash. It was dangerous. They were keeping him in the dark, that’s what.

Fuck that. Jason had started using his exhaustion and pain as a cover as he worked to find out information. He learned: - The man was called Red Hood (no, not that Red Hood). - Apparently he used to look a lot closer to how Red Hood did. - The memories he knew of the last few years never happened. - They were keeping Red Hood in the Watchtower. - He needed to see him.

Jason was still putting together a plan, and now this consultant had solved one of the biggest problems about how to make it happen, Red Hood was out of his cell. Half baked plan or not, there was no time like the present.

Careful to keep his steps soundless, which was easy enough in the thick socks he wore to desperately try and stay way, Jason crept away from the door and took off to the Bruce’s study. He was grateful that while things about the present overlapped weirdly with his memories, like half dreams and stories, anything before he had… anything before Ethiopia still made sense. Anything after was a crap shoot if it was real.

The hands on the clock turned easily, his thumb print still scanned, and the door still opened. The way to barricade the door from the inside was the same too. It wouldn’t hold any of the Bats for long, but it was enough for Jason to scramble down the steps and over the the Zeta tube.

He just needed Red Hood to hold on.

He would be there soon.

He needed to see him.

-----

AN: So maybe I'm spoiling you all with another update today, but it is dark and stormy and I'm burrowed into a blanket with cats and a headache, and people have been asking about smol!Jason so I felt you all should get to meet him!

Stay delightful and dry, darlings!

I no longer tag people, but you can subscribe to the masterpost to be notified!

[amirasainz]

Hi literally get so excited when you update! Can you write one where charles x alexandra x reader where charles and alex are away for an event and forget that it's the reader birthday ans only remember when someone tells them birthday it and they try and make it up to her.

Hi loves. I hope you enjoy this little piece. Let me know what you think. Comments are always apreciated!I'm sorry,but the Sydney Sweeny picture was perfect, so I had to include it😉

Also, question (and please answer me that in the comments), does anyone read what I write before the story? Like the little message here? I'm just curious❤️

Enjoy reading and send me requests!!❤️

-XoXo

The Birthday disaster

You couldn’t believe it. They weren’t here. They didn’t call, text, or even send you a freaking letter. Your own boyfriend and girlfriend forgot your birthday. And not just any birthday, it was your 21 birthday. Instead of celebrating with Alex, Charles, and all of your friends in a vibrant club, you were sitting on the balcony of your apartment. Despite the cold wind hitting your bare skin mercilessly, thanks to the cute short dress you wore today, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk back inside.

Of course, your friends tried to get you to come out with them to celebrate your birthday properly. But it just hurt too much, and to be honest, your mind was too tired and sad for any kind of festivity.

When Charles and Alex first informed you about the event hosted by one of Alex’s friends, they eagerly asked you to join them. Unfortunately, your job didn’t allow you to tag along, which both of them understood. However, they promised you that they would return today at around 5 o’clock. To be honest, you thought they had something special planned for your birthday. But last night, at around 11 pm, you received a text from Alex, informing you that they would be staying longer in Venice, where the event was held.

At first, you thought this was some kind of joke. Maybe they wanted you to think that they weren’t able to celebrate with you, only to surprise you with a birthday party. But sadly, when you woke up this morning, nothing happened. Throughout the day, there was complete silence between you and them.

Your group of friends, who had been with you a few hours ago to at least celebrate your birthday a little bit, tried to convince you to go out and party with them. Before you could agree, you got a notification from Instagram. You were tagged quite often in a post showing Alex and Charles at the event. They looked so happy and carefree, making you feel even more numb.

Despite their best efforts, your friends left after half an hour, after you reassured them with phrases like “Yes, I will take care of myself,” “Yes, I will call you if I need anything,” and “No, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m completely fine.” They knew you were anything but fine; however, they also knew that you needed to be alone right now.

So here you are, sitting alone in the cold with your only companions being the vodka bottle you brought with you and the relentless wind hitting your skin. “Happy fucking 21st birthday to me, I guess,” you muttered to yourself, staring out at the sea.

“Oh my god, Lisa. You truly outdid yourself,” complimented Alex, her friend. And it was true. The event was filled with beautiful flowers and lights, giving the room a fairy-like appearance. The soft glow of the lights reflected off the petals, creating a magical ambiance that made everyone feel like they had stepped into an enchanted garden. Charles, who stood next to his girlfriend, only brought her closer to him and said, “Yeah, I have to agree. I’m 100% sure YN would have loved it.” “You are so right, love. I wish she was here with us,” agreed Alex, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

“Wait, I’m confused. So there is nothing wrong between you guys and YN?” asked Lisa, her brow furrowed in confusion. Alex and Charles shared a look with each other, both of them equally puzzled. “No, why would there be anything wrong with us?” Alex replied, her tone defensive. “Oh, I just thought you had a fight and this is the reason why you are here and not with YN today. But I must have been wrong…” Linda’s voice trailed off, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She shared a look with her partner Mary, both of them realizing the gravity of the situation.

“Wait, stop. Pause. Why would we be with YN tonight? You invited us to your event and we are here. I don’t get what’s going on right now,” said Alex, her frustration mounting. It felt like Mary and Lisa knew something she and Charles didn’t. Mary, who was now also becoming more annoyed with how the two of them acted before them, didn’t take any nonsense from Alex.

Without hesitation, she looked straight into Alex’s eyes and told her with an ice-cold voice, “Well, we weren’t expecting you to show up today because we thought that you would be busy celebrating YN’s 21 birthday today. But from the looks of it, it seems like you forgot your own girlfriend’s birthday. So don’t talk to us with that rude tone of yours. At least we remember each other’s birthdays.” With that, Mary took Lisa by the hand and left, leaving Alex and Charles standing there in stunned silence.

Alex and Charles were left behind, both staring at the space where the couple used to be a few seconds ago. Both of them felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over them. How could they forget their own girlfriend’s birthday? Turning on their phones, they saw the flood of messages they had received from not only their fans but also their friends, YN’s friends, and their families. Each message was a painful reminder of their oversight.

“We messed up so badly,” muttered Charles, looking at Alex with a pained expression. The woman could only nod, still speechless. Charles took her arm and gently but firmly led her out of the room. “We have to go to her. ASAP,” Alex told Charles, who was already a step ahead of her and had their jackets in hand. With that, the couple left the event, both feeling a deep sense of remorse. How could they forget their girl’s birthday?

As they hurried to their car, Alex’s mind raced with thoughts of how to make it up to YN. She knew it would take more than just an apology to mend the hurt they had caused. Charles, too, was lost in his thoughts, thinking of ways to show YN how much she meant to them. They both knew that they had a lot of making up to do, but they were determined to do whatever it took to make things right.

At around 1 am, the couple finally arrived home. The ride back had been silent, the air in the car feeling oppressively thick, making it hard to breathe. They parked their car in the garage and, without hesitation, jumped out of the vehicle, racing towards the elevator. The few minutes it took to reach their front door felt like an eternity, each second stretching painfully.

When they entered the apartment, everything was shrouded in darkness. A figure sat on the balcony, barely visible in the dim light. Charles immediately sat next to YN, while Alex kneeled in front of her. YN didn’t even look at them before taking a gulp from the nearly empty bottle of vodka. “Hey love, I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” whispered Charles, gently trying to take the bottle away from the now 21-year-old girl.

YN shook her head, her voice trembling as she reminded them, “No. NO, you do not get to tell me what I can and cannot do. Not after you forgot about me.” “Baby, we didn’t forget about you,” Alex tried, her eyes already filling with tears. YN only laughed, her own tears streaming down her face. “No, Alexandra. You do not get to tell me that after you forgot my birthday, and you certainly don’t get to cry.” “Ok, let’s all calm down,” Charles attempted again, his voice soothing but firm.

“No Charles! I don’t want to calm down. You both forgot about me. You two promised me that something like this would never happen to us. You promised me that you would always love me. You promised me that the age gap didn’t bother you when we started dating when I was 19. But look at us. You already broke one of your promises. How can I be sure that you won’t break another one?” With that, YN broke down in tears. Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs, her head held in her hands.

Charles and Alex immediately moved to comfort her. “YN, breath. We are so freaking sorry. I guarantee you, we didn’t mean for something like this to happen. We were all so busy with our jobs and social lives that we didn’t mean to forget something so important,” Charles began, his voice filled with regret.

Alex took YN’s head into her hands, gently wiping away her tears. “We love you more than anything in this world. You are our air and our heart. And we will apologize for the rest of our lives if we have to,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. YN only whispered, “I love you guys too.” Alex didn't hesitate before kissing her girlfriend. after a moment the they pulled apart.

Charles turned her face towards him, speaking softly, “And we didn’t lie when we told you the age gap didn’t bother us. And we certainly didn’t lie when we promised you that we would always love you, ok?” After YN nodded, Letting Charles also kiss her. This kiss was filled with as much love as Alex, just a bit more urgently but still gentle. After their kiss, the three of them cuddled close to each other, finding solace in their shared warmth.

It would take some time before everything was alright between the three of them again. But for now, sitting together and watching the city lights flicker in the distance was the perfect way to start healing.

[starlight-starwrites]

forehead kisses

din djarin x reader

summary: after din takes karga's offer of a cabin on nevarro, you find yourself joining the mandalorian and his adopted son on their bounty hunting adventures. or, five times you kiss the helmet and the one time you kiss him. wc: 3k warnings: some description of injuries, and my personal fave, yearning pining aching longing with heavy doses of fluff and smooching, and i revive a fan favorite character (the Razor Crest) note: banner by @janaispunk and fic written for her 1500 kisses celebration! i got the prompt forehead kisses and could not stop thinking of the potential. thank you so much for hosting this little challenge and congratulations jana!!!

The cockpit is quiet when you climb up. Din sits in the pilot’s seat, the only acknowledgment he knows you’re here is a slight turn of his head. You come to stand at his shoulder and gaze out the viewport at the expanse of stars.

“Call go well?”

“New job.”

“That’s fast,” you say. “Didn’t even get him back the last one.”

“Hot priority. Quarry is supposedly in this system.” Din relaxes back into the chair, finally turns to you. “The kid?”

“Asleep,” you answer. “Think he wore himself out with the…” you wave your hand in the mimic of the child’s magic. “He really likes playing with the new droid.”

Din grunts. “At least someone does.”

You laugh. “Be nice! R5 is very well-behaved.”

You hear his sigh through the helmet before he asks, “You don’t mind the detour?”

“No, of course not.” You lean your hip on the side of the chair, and Din’s bracer brushes your leg.

Your time spent traveling around with the Mandalorian and his adopted son has actually been some of the most relaxing bounty hunting you’ve ever done. They’re both more polite than you expected and it feels…domestic, even if the stream of gunfire and criminal cargo never stopped.

Din Djarin has been a surprise as well. What started as professional camaraderie has developed into an unspoken tenderness that puts a smile on your face and—if he ever took off the helmet to show you—maybe on his too.

“I can prep your locker and the carbon freeze. How long to the designated point?” You push off the chair where he sits.

“About an hour.” He looks up at you, reaches to squeeze your hand. “Thank you.”

You bend forward to press a quick kiss to the crown of his helm. “Don’t worry about it.”

You’re still smiling when you make it down to the hull of the Crest.

.

Nevarro was not the sort of planet you would think of as relaxing, but between Karga’s development of a well-respected port city and Din keeping one of the most quaint cabins you’ve ever visited, it has been the only place you can relax.

You carry a tin plate from the Mandalorian’s kitchen to the next room. Through the window you watch the kid wobble over the rocks to chase after a desperate frog. By now, the little critters know when he’s coming. At the table, Din sits scrolling through a datapad.

“Dinner is served,” you announce.

His visor raises to meet your gaze when you enter. “I could have gotten it.”

“I know.” You incline your head to the pad. “I had a feeling Greef got to you already. More work? We only got back this morning.” You set dinner in front of him, come around his side to look at the file over his shoulder.

“Just a side project,” he says. He closes out of the screen before you can read. “It can wait.”

“Well, well,” you say, raising your hands. “Keep your secrets then.”

He leans back in his chair to face you. “It’s not a secret.” His voice is dry, but he knows you’re teasing. “I wanted to thank you. You…saved my life today.”

“Oh, that?” It’s true. He fell off a building. You actually let him, before you remembered he wasn’t wearing his jetpack. In some odd stroke of luck you’d managed to steal some poor sod’s skyspeeder, catch the free-falling Mandalorian, and total the quarry’s speederbike in one arc with no casualties. “Hm, yes, I was thinking you should be the one serving me dinner.”

“Maybe I will.”

The way he says it catches you off guard. Your heart skips a beat.

“Next time then.” You smile, marvel at the frantic beating in your chest. Then you bump his shoulder with your hip. This time you’re bold enough to place a finger under the edge of his helmet, tilt his head a little more. You place a kiss to where his forehead would be. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you eat in peace.” You nod at the food getting cold, and leave him to do just that.

.

The hull of the Razor Crest is hard at your back. You sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder with the Mandalorian.

“You know as much as I love the Crest…maybe it’s time to consider—”

“No.”

You sigh. The ship has landed ‘safely’ you’re glad to say. Grogu sits in Din’s lap. R5 is…a little banged up, but fine. The rest of the Crest? Complete disarray. Anything not tied down has been flung around, and there is a gaping hole across from where the four of you sit.

“She is an old ship.”

“She has seen worse.”

Sadly, you believe it. You lean closer to him, let yourself feel the relief of having made it. He leans into you, and the kid lets out a small sound like he’s disappointed too.

“Think we can find a mechanic for this one?” You raise a hand to gesture at the torn metal and frayed wires that frame the picturesque view of open fields and rock spires beyond them. Of all the places to be attacked, here is pretty nice.

You let your head fall to the side. Din shifts with a sigh, and his temple rests against yours. “We’re going to need more than a mechanic.”

You snort. After the distress of the last hour, it feels nice to sit like this. To relax. If that’s what you can call it.

You want to curl up beside him, long to know what it would be like for him to hold you. Part of you thinks he would, if you asked. But still you say nothing, content with the small doses of affection you give each other now. Closeness that is expected - known - but goes unspoken. You turn your head, and your lips brush over his helmet, just above his visor. His head stays tilted down, allowing it. He sighs when you move away.

“We should get to work.”

“Yeah.”

A tether pulls as you both stand to get things in order. Connection. Longing. You wonder if he feels it too. You brush a hand over your lips, savor the feeling of cool metal.

.

You don’t like it. Not one bit. But you understand. With every day that passed, you’ve been feeling worse—caught some bug on one of the trips you’ve made in the last week. It started with a cough, and now you can barely speak. You’re tired, and drained, but still you managed to stay on the ship with the Mandalorian. He wasn’t about to let R5 stay alone with the kid, and to be honest, you think he’s gotten used to having the backup. You have to be content he’s letting you do as much as he is.

“If they give you any trouble at the dock just send them this.” He presses something on his vambrace, and you check over codes on your datapad. You nod confirmation. “Keep the engine running. I shouldn’t be long, and if they decide they want a look at our cargo…”

You both turn to face the short line of frozen criminals.

“You’ll have to make a quick getaway.”

The problem you’ve found with working on newly established New Republic territories is the freedoms of the Outer Rim are being slowly taped over in red. Even bounty hunting hasn’t escaped the notice of the bureaucracy. Din hates it. You hate it even more. And now here he is going out alone to find a rich slimeball that likely paid his way into immunity with the New Republic officers here. Stuck sitting in the pilot’s chair was hardly helping. You nod anyway, watching as he straps on more weapons and gear discreetly into his armor. A knife slips into a hidden sheath under his chest plate. You try to be comforted that at least if he doesn’t have you, he’s well equipped.

You clear your throat, hopefully in a way that he understands your upset. You’ve mostly communicated with him about this job in a series of frowns.

He sighs. “I know.”

You huff.

“I know,” he says again.

Your shoulders slump, and you don’t know how else to tell him right now, so you tuck your pad under your arm and reach for him.

He’s slow to it, but he folds his arms around you to return your hug, awkwardly patting your back before holding you closer. You pull away after a moment, and take his helmet between the palms of your hands. You search his visor, wondering if he really does know.

His hands come under your arms to hold your elbows, thumbs rubbing in a comforting manner. You pull him toward you, rest your forehead against his.

Come back safe, you think. Come back to me.

His hands squeeze tighter. He must know. Surely, he must know.

You pull from him, but keep hold of his head and tilt. You press a kiss to where you rested your head just a moment before, willing his safety. Then you let go before you do anything else. Perhaps it’s good you lost your voice. His hands slip from you when you take a step back, though one hovers between your bodies like he’s not sure. You watch it drift down slowly.

Behind you, Grogu coos a goodbye, but you don’t take your eyes from Din. He looks down for a moment then back to you. Another beat, then he nods. You return it. He walks down the ramp of the hull, and you watch him until it closes, sealing you and the kid inside.

You press your fingers to your mouth. Come back safe.

.

Your hands shake as you pull away fabric and leather. The Mandalorian’s chest plate, marked with carbon scoring, rests on the ground beside him.

“Should have been here,” you whisper. Your voice isn’t better, but you try. You press a bandage to the wound, ignoring the way his blood sticks to your fingers.

“The kid…”

“Safe. On ship.”

Din’s hand clasps around your wrist. “They’ll find—”

You shake your head. You didn’t like it either. Your only comfort was that R5 could pilot the Razor Crest if absolutely necessary. The ship was locked and sealed tight to protect both of them while you found Din.

“I moved ship,” you croak. “They safe for now.”

You can’t see how far the wound reaches—his skin is covered in blood, soaking his clothing over his shoulder and neck. Does it go under his helmet too? Din takes your hand, halting your frantic search. You stop, eyes darting over his visor as though you’ll find answers.

“We have to go.” His voice is strained, but he is right. You can’t stay. Most of your medical supplies are stored on the Crest.

“Din…” his name is barely more than a breath through your lips. You want to say so much. Look at him, barely lucid himself, slumped and abandoned for dead when you arrived. You fear for him, even now that you are here.

“I’m…okay.” He takes his hand from yours and moves to cup your face instead. You can smell the old leather of his gloves, feel the rough patches on your cheek. But his hold is firm, grounding you back to him. “I’m okay. I just need you to help me there.” He breathes heavy, and so do you, but you can see his resolve once more. He’ll make it.

Tears spring at your eyes, and your bloodied hands grasp the sides of his helmet, mirroring how he holds you. You lean in, press a kiss to his forehead. And then another. And another. Then one more for good measure.

He has to know what he does to you. The bandage is pressed to his wound and tucked under the straps of his armor. You’ll have time to properly heal him later. He does his best to help replace his chest plate.

You take his good arm around your shoulders, wrap your arm at his waist. With your help, he stands. The coast is clear for now, and the two of you creep down the streets in the direction you hid the Crest. He follows you without question, each of you pulling the other closer at every turn—so close your shadows become one.

The image follows you all the way back to the ship—haunting you the same as the memory of cold metal against your lips.

.

The lava flats are quiet this evening. The sun sets behind a smattering of clouds, painting the sky an orange-pink you aren’t accustomed to seeing. The view from the Mandalorian’s front porch is unobstructed.

So here you sit, here you stare. You’re not sure when it happened, but it feels like home.

A steady beat of footsteps interrupts the quiet, and Din walks out of the doorway. He pauses there before crossing your view to join you on the bench. His movements are slow, and he’s not wearing his full armor where he’s covered in bandages. You sit up straight, gaze tearing from the sky to follow him. Your hand settles on his arm as he seats himself beside you.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Better. Much better,” you say, eying where a bandage disappears under his helmet. “What about you? Doc still expects a full recovery?”

Din nods. “The bandages are just to protect his work. I should be able to take it off tomorrow.”

Upon your return to Nevarro, you had rushed Din to the nearest med center to fix the first aid you had attempted. Whatever device was used to cause the explosion he survived was nothing you had seen before. After a good soak in the bacta tank, some careful skin grafting, and a hefty dose of painkillers, Doc assured you the Mandalorian would be just fine.

Grogu had fussed profusely from your lap, but Din had set firm rules on when the kid was allowed to use his powers. If Din was still conscious to tell him no, then no it was.

“Starting to consider Greef’s offer? Retire as a bounty hunter, become marshal here,” you ask him gently. Karga had offered it to him before, and on several occasions. Still, your Mandalorian found himself back among the the stars. Something felt different this time. The way he settled in to his cabin, sought the comforts of home. The way he let the kid play and wander longer. “It doesn’t sound too bad.”

You filled in for the job when you were on world, worked bounties as they came in when Karga needed it. You knew he hoped Din would take the job—both of you knew he would be the best at it. After following him around the galaxy, seeing him in action, there was no way to deny it.

Din looks away from the sunset to face you. “I admit I’ve been finding more reasons to stay.” His hand takes yours. He’s not wearing his gloves. His skin is rough but warm, and you skim your thumb over his knuckles.

You don’t take your eyes from him even as you lace your fingers with his. The light from the setting sun reflects on the metal of his helmet, and it makes him look softer somehow. Perhaps it is the pink glow or, when you look him over again, you realize the only beskar he wears is his helmet.

Time slows. The moment feels frozen, the cooling evening air, the touch of Din’s shoulder to yours, the pull of your gaze to search for his. His hand reaches for the helmet, lifting it gently from his head.

You don’t move. You are not sure if you can. Lips part, breath stolen. He has tousled brown hair that falls on to his forehead, creases between his eyebrows, wide brown eyes that search yours. You follow the curve of his nose to plush lips that part just as yours do.

You feel the tether once again, pulling you in. All the times you stayed close to his side, all the times you found yourself reaching for him, pressing your lips to his helm in what you hoped spoke of the affection you held. It takes hold of you now, and graciously, seems to take hold of him too.

Your lips meet his. Eyes slip shut. The light of the sun is lost to the warmth of his skin, his breath on your cheek. It’s soft and gentle. Not unlike every kiss you’ve given him since you met. He kisses you now, slow and testing. Slanting his mouth against yours, drawing closer when you don’t move away. His hand cups your cheek, your hand rests on his chest.

He tastes like home.

Your need for air is what interrupts you. Mouth pulling from his, the light sound echoing in your chest. But you don’t pull away. Neither does he.

You rest, tucked in by one of his arms. Your shoulder leaned to his side, his forehead dipped to rest on yours. You smile.

When your eyes finally come to focus again, you can see the curve of his smile too. You want to say something, test the waters of this light feeling dancing over your heart. He lifts his chin first, and his lips press to the crown of your head.

It’s warm. You sink into his embrace, let the feeling wash over you. Both of you linger on that bench, painted over by the fading sunset as a memory of quiet comfort and forehead kisses.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

Thoughts on this as a Sterek AU?:

The vibe of the children librarian is definitely stiles but I think it would be cute if Derek was the children librarian so instead we have this:

Stiles wanted to work with children like his mother did, and the library was the best place. It had become his safe refuge during his mother’s sickness and he hoped to make it a safe place for other children. But he was also hired to keep track of the more magical books.

Derek has hired by the sweet old lady, Ms Beatrice, who ran the beacon hills library. Derek was pretty sure she was immortal. She took one look at him and decided to ignore all the gossip surrounding his name. He was put to work on the front desk because Ms Beatrice thought that would help the rumours and force Derek to interact with people. But also as a werewolf he would how to direct other supernaturals on what research they would need.

When stiles was hired Derek was definitely curious. As there was this bright eyed human who had the softest voice when working with children, but could turn around and insult you with the most venom Derek had ever heard. Stiles wore the most outlandish outfits but somehow looked absolutely ethereal in them. Not to mention seeing the stunning man working with children with his neck on display was ruining Derek’s control of his wolf. Beatrice thinks this this is completely hilarious.

Stiles knows how he acts compared to the other librarians, where he worked. Especially Derek hale, who brightest outfit that stiles had seen him wear, was a medium grey shirt. Not that he looked bad in it. Stiles had struck up a conversation with him a few times, but Derek alway responded with one or two word answers before he turned away. Most people would be off put by this but not Stiles.

Stiles had seen the way that Derek would interact with the quieter kids who didn’t feel comfortable enough around Stiles. With his small smile and bunny teeth, Stiles was so completely over his head. He also saw how Derek would curl in on himself when parents rushed their children away from him with nasty glares - or how his eyes would go blank when a women came on to strong. Stiles was an observer and knew he could be overbearing but there was something about Derek that made it so he couldn’t stay away.

Derek never knew how to answer stiles when he tried to make small talk. His tongue got tied standing so close to stiles in a small area; where all he could smell was ink,snow,home,lighting cinnamon, mate that made his chest hurt. Derek fleas from their conversations before he could embarrass himself by saying something like “hey, I’m a werewolf and I’m pretty sure you’re my mate do you want to get married”

This comes to head when there is an attack on the library, some dumbass tried to get to the magical section and summons a demon (this is beacon hills what did you think would happen). Derek is badly injured after saving Stiles and some of the kids there. Stiles manages to exorcise the demon despite being in shock that his coworker derek hale is Derek Hale, with a capital W. So Stiles, being Stiles decides to big him back to his apartment and heal him with his spark.

(Fuck yeah, getting to the good stuff). Derek wakes up the next morning, just wrapped in Stiles scent, warm and the most well rested he’s been since he was 16. Derek hears stiles in the kitchen and is prepared for judgement, disgust, fear and the worst reaction. Cue his surprise when stiles brings him a tray stacked full of food with a worried look on his face. His wolf goes insane at the sight of his mate courting him and Derek breaks.

Stiles was beside himself when Derek wasn’t waking up. He wasn’t sure how long it takes and werewolf, Alpha werewolf??? To heal from injuries given by a demon. So he made pancakes, everyone loves pancakes right?? He also made hash browns, bacon, eggs and waffles but that wasn’t important. He stacked the tray with as much food as he could carry and hoped Derek would wake up soon. So sue him if he was a little shocked to see Derek, sitting up (Awake) looking at him like Stiles was the greatest thing to happen to the earth since Star Wars.

The two of them end up talking (over each other in the beginning, but a+ for that communication)

“I’m a werewolf / spark”

“WHAT”

Once they both calm down they actually manage to have a conversation and Derek confesses that he was too scent drunk on stiles to have a conversation and stay in control. This makes stiles blush bright red and Derek is obsessed. He really wants to know how far down the blush goes. And it that moment, Derek just upfront asks to court stiles.

Stiles is an absolute gay mess right about now. He tries to tell Derek that he shouldn’t feel obligated to “reward” him after Stiles saved his life. Completely missing the point. Derek sees how insecure Stiles is in this moment and lays everything out on the table.

“No stiles, you’re my mate”

“Oh, Oh”

“Yeah, so please let me court you, let me take care of you.”

Stiles of course says yes!! They court for a week and a half before stiles breaks and demands that Derek has his wicked way with him. So Derek does.

Repeatedly.

The next morning they are officially a couple. Beatrice is so proud. She goes around beacon hills telling everyone that she single handedly got them together. She also goes around telling everyone that she is super excited to be a grandmother.

The sheriff is not amused.

Stiles and Derek get married three years later. Beatrice walks Derek down the aisle. She also tells an embarrassing story of the time when Derek got jealous over a child who declared that they would steal Stiles away from him and stiles would marry them instead. She cries over “her children” getting married and reminds them she wants grandchild before she to old to play with them. She spends half the evening snipping back and forth with the sheriff.

When Beatrice retires, stiles and Derek become known as the heart sickening couple who runs the library.

Thanks for the ask!! This was super fun to right!

[its-avalon-08]

op81 reader forgets theme anniversary sounds great! it's always the other way round so this is such a great switch

mismatched plates & fairy lights (op81)

the fairy lights oscar had strung across their tiny balcony twinkled softly, casting a warm glow on the room. he'd even snuck out earlier to get y/n's favorite takeout – the one they always got on special occasions. tonight was their two-year anniversary, and oscar's heart thumped a happy rhythm in his chest.

he set the table with their mismatched plates (the ones they'd gotten from a thrift store on their first date) and lit the candles he'd painstakingly hidden around the apartment. he couldn't wait to see y/n's face light up.

hours ticked by, and the takeout grew cold. disappointment, sharp and icy, began to creep in. y/n still wasn't home. he called her phone, but it went straight to voicemail. "hey, it's me," oscar's voice cracked slightly. "just wondering where you are. hope everything's okay."

he tried again, then again, each unanswered call chipping away at his excitement. finally, the door creaked open, and y/n tumbled in, a tired smile on her face. relief washed over him, momentarily pushing back the disappointment.

"hey, sorry i'm late," y/n said, kicking off her shoes. "work just went crazy today."

"no worries," oscar managed, a forced cheer in his voice. he helped her unpack her bag, the silence in the room heavy and unexpected.

they sat down for dinner, but the magic was gone. y/n was chattering about her day, but oscar barely heard her. his eyes kept flicking to the calendar hanging on the fridge, a stark reminder of the forgotten date.

finally, the dam broke. "y/n," he started, his voice thick with hurt. "is... is there something you forgot?"

y/n's brow furrowed. "forgot what?"

tears welled up in oscar's eyes. "it's... it's our anniversary," he choked out, the last word barely a whisper.

y/n's eyes widened in shock. "oh my god, oscar, I am so sorry! I completely forgot. work was just..."

oscar didn't wait for her to finish. the hurt was raw and fresh, and the disappointment he'd been trying to hold back spilled over. "yeah, work," he said, his voice sharp. he pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "i'm going to bed."

he didn't wait for a reply, just walked away, his heart a lead weight in his chest. he crawled into bed, the sheets cold without y/n's warmth beside him. tears streamed down his face, a mixture of hurt and anger. he loved y/n, but tonight, he felt forgotten and unimportant.

the next morning, oscar woke up to a blinding light. he squinted, then sat up in bed, his jaw dropping. their apartment was transformed. fairy lights, even brighter than the ones outside, twinkled everywhere. red rose petals, forming a heart on the floor, led him to the living room. there, stood y/n, wearing the same dress she wore on their first date, a nervous smile on her face and a beautiful cake in her hand.

"y/n?" oscar breathed, his voice thick with sleep.

"good morning, sleepyhead," she said, her voice small. "i know I messed up yesterday, terribly. but I spent all night making it up to you."

tears welled up in oscar's eyes. he rushed to her putting the cake down on the table and engulfing her in a hug so tight it almost took the breath out of her. "you have no idea how much this means to me," he whispered, his voice muffled against her hair.

y/n pulled back, cupping his face. "you deserve so much more, oscar. I can't believe I forgot, but seeing the disappointment in your eyes last night... it was a wake-up call. you make every day an adventure, and I never want to take that for granted."

oscar leaned in, his lips brushing hers. "I already forgave you the moment you walked in with that dress on," he murmured. then, he peppered her face with kisses, a mix of apology and love.

y/n snuggled closer to oscar, whispering, "thank you for letting me make it up to you."

he leaned in, peppering her face with kisses, each one a tiny apology. "this is perfect," he murmured between kisses. "more perfect than the fancy dinner I was planning anyway."

y/n laughed, tears glistening on her lashes. "you're unbelievable."

oscar grinned, pulling her close again. "and you," he whispered, "are the most forgetful, amazing girlfriend a guy could ask for."

he reached for a rose petal on the floor, tucking it behind her ear. "now, how about we eat this cake and make some pancakes together? the kind we burn a little and laugh about?"

y/n's smile widened. "sounds perfect. but only if you promise to wear that goofy grin the whole time."

oscar chuckled, pulling her into another kiss. "challenge accepted."

the rest of the day was a testament to the fact that grand gestures weren't everything. sure, the fairy lights and the dress were a beautiful apology, but the real magic was in the shared laughter, the playful teasing, and the simple act of being together. as they sat on the couch, their stomachs full of slightly burnt pancakes and hearts full of love, oscar knew that even forgotten anniversaries couldn't erase the strength of their connection. he looked at y/n, the fairy lights reflecting in her eyes, and whispered, "happy anniversary, y/n."

"happy anniversary, oscar," she replied, leaning her head on his shoulder. "and thank you for reminding me why I love you so much."

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

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[kdogreads]

Waiting in line to pick up my nephew from pre-school and thinking about picking up the kids from school with Carmy

We exist in the amazing @thebearer ‘s universe ok 😍🫶

—

He is usually at work so you pick up the girls by yourself. It’s no big deal, of course, but their first question is always, “Is daddy home yet?”

You try to let them down easily everyday with a gentle, “No, but he will be soon,” and a promise to stop at Starbucks on the way home.

Today was a special day, though. It’s the day before Halloween, the crisp fall air swirls around your mom SUV (You told Carmen absolutely not to a minivan) when you pull into the pick up line and roll the windows down. And Carm had somehow managed to take the afternoon off.

The girls were so excited to wear their costumes to school this morning. Teddy dressed up as a magical-fairy-princess-slash-mini-Michael-Myers and Willow is a chef, just like her Daddy.

It was only a few minutes of chatting with Carm about the restaurant and what you needed from the grocery this weekend before the school bell rang, signaling the girls would be running out any minute. Carmen ducked down in the driver’s seat as much as he could while you got out of the car like normal.

Both girls came running towards you with some kind of Halloween craft and a small bag of candy, already squealing and excitedly regaling their spooky party and what all of their friends wore.

“Okay, okay! Let’s get home so we can make dinner for Daddy,” You prompted hoping they would start climbing into the car.

Both girls popped open their doors and slung their backpacks in. You had to look away to hide your smirk as the big reveal was about to happen.

“Katie had on the biggest princess dress I’ve ever seen, Mama, and James was a Power Ranger and— Daddy?” Teddy squealed with joy and caught Willow’s attention who also started giggling uncontrollably.

“Hi my babies! How was sch—uugh,” Carmen started but was met with an elbow to the ribs as the girls started climbing over each other to get in the front seat and hug him first.

A chorus of giggles and kisses filled the air and your heart. You ducked your head a bit in embarrassment when someone’s knee bumped into the car’s horn, but the smiles in the cars nearest to you melted away your worries. It seems the parents and teachers nearby thought the sweet reunion was just as precious as you did.

“Mama! Did you know Daddy was in here?” Willow questions you with a hand on her hip. Boy were you in trouble when she got a little older and a little sassier.

“Alright, alright, girls. Get in your seats, yeah? We have a surprise for you at home,” Carmen finally put an end to the adorable cuddle puddle happening in front of you.

“A surprise?” Both girls squealed as they climbed back into their own spots. Carmen simply wiggled his eyebrows in the rearview mirror as giggles filled the car yet again.

You could feel the buzz in the air as they excitedly discussed what it could be. You piped up only once with a solid, “Nope,” when someone said something about a puppy.

You spent the evening carving pumpkins Carmen and you had picked out earlier that day and drinking warm apple cider that had been steeping on the stove all day.

It was a simple fall activity day, but it filled your heart to the very brim with love for your perfect little family.

—

A/N: I could die I love them 😭😭 thank you again to my idol for creating such an in-depth universe for us to live in our delulus 🫶��️

[renren-006]

Hi there! I’m an angst addict so I was thinking like a story about the sorcerer ball that Geralt and Yennefer attend in season 3 but with the Reader who is like dating Geralt has to stay behind with Jaskier and Ciri has some jealousy because of Geralt and Yen’s history and starts thinking that our white wolf would prefer her instead….if that makes sense 😭

Preference? | Geralt x Fem Reader

word count: 909

a/n: omg yesss!! i had fun writing this so enjoyyyyy!!

The ball was that evening, and after the long boat ride and fight you, Geralt, and Ciri had to go through, you were looking forward to it. What you didn't expect was Geralt sidelining you with Jaskir and Ciri. You stood there dumbfounded and Yennifer and Geralt explained that it would make more sense to have more people watch Ciri. You watched him leave that night in an elegant outfit and a single kiss before he went towards the castle.

“He loves you, you know that right Y/N” Jaskir said to you. 

“How Jask. Look at Yennefer. I'll never look like her, and I'll never be as powerful…” you told him. You and Jaskir were best friends before Geralt even entered the picture. He glanced over at you, seeing you go through heartbreak after heartbreak. This time, both of you wanted this to be the last. He hugged you as Geralt disappeared beyond sight. 

Ciri, however, didn't notice anything. Absorbed in her own little world for a bit, or at least for most of the night, she didn't let on that she had been listening to you. She saw the way Yennifer was eying Geralt. It wasn't until a few card games that she talked about it. 

“I prefer you over Yennefer.” She told you. Jaskir looked at you, seeing the smile and shock on your face. “I don't like that he didn't ask you to go.”

“I…I don't either, Ciri” you told the young girl. 

“He loves you. I think he's just being stupid,” Ciri told you, comforting you. The young girl had taken a strong liking to you in the years you had been with and known her. She thought of you like a mother, a guardian, someone she knew would lay down her life to protect her.  You managed to find her before Geralt and keep her safe while helping her find your lover and her guardian. Once you did, it felt like a family reunion. You remember meeting Yen with them and discovering her betrayal. Seeing her now and knowing she was trying to be genuine, you had no reason to worry, yet you did.  The rest of the night was a mix of worry and jealousy. 

You worried he would realize how much better the woman before him that night was than you. How powerful she was and how it barely compared to you. How could she teach Ciri far better than you could about magic, even though Ciri had mastered most, if not all, of what you had taught her so far. You just wanted Geralt to love you for you, and you felt as thought you might always be compared to her. 

When morning came, and Geralt walked through the door with Yennifer, you noticed he wore a different outfit. You glanced at Yennifer, who was doing her best not to look over at you. Her face was flush, and her eyes were cast down away from you. Your worries were confirmed. 

“I knew it,” you said. Geralt's eyes flashed with worry, worry that you had figured it out. You stormed out the back door, and Geralt followed after. 

“Y/N! Y/N/N!” he yelled. Your flowy flower dress flowed in the wind as you continued storming off towards the woods, wishing to be with the trees. Soon after, you fell to the ground in the middle of a clearing, hearing and feeling the forest energy.

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked, kneeling next to you.

“You slept with Yennifer didn't you?” you asked, tears in your eyes. “You know I'm nothing compared to her. How could I ever expect to be better than her? You'll always want her…”

“Y/N that's not true” Geralt said, his husky voice causing you to shiver away. 

“Yes it is” you said, power serging from you, rumbling the woods. “I am nothing compared to Geralt, I have less power, less beauty...”

“Y/N! I told her I wanted to marry you "Geralt said, holding your face in his hands. 

“What?” you said. Suddenly everything in you went quiet, including the world around you.

“I told her I wanted to spend my life with you from now on. That she meant nothing to me anymore.” Geralt's words cut through you. Yennifer's downward look wasn't because she was sorry she slept with him, but because she was sorry she tried to and got rejected. You realize that Geralt's clothes were probably because he was tired from the long night of fighting that Yen lent him clothes, not because he wanted to stay.

“You want to marry me?” you asked him, tears in your eyes

“Yes,” he said firmly. 

“I'm sorry…I was…” you stumbled over words. 

“It's okay. Darling i understand” He said kissing your tears away, “I understand why you got there. Why you think I loved her? I don't”

“I know that now” you said slightly laughing, “I love you”

“I know, darling,” he said. He helped you stand and walk back towards that little cottage with your family inside. Yennifer came over and apologized profusely. She wanted nothing more than to be friends and to set up the wedding. She was happy he found someone like you and that she wouldn't ever get in the way. You were happy your worries were not true and that Geralt was the man for you forever.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Under a Star-Flecked Sky

Author's Note: This was supposed to be some Rhysand x Reader fluff, but the depression brain-rot got the better of me and I wrote some angsty, post-UtM Rhys moments instead (don't worry there is some fluff at the end). My baby just needs a hug, and honestly I think SJM did him dirty by brushing his trauma Under the Mountain under the rug.

Warnings: Mentions of Amarantha, Rhys' Post-UtM Trauma

Summary: You're Rhys' mate, having already been with him before the Mountain, and are navigating Rhys' healing journey as best you can.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bed was cold; the realization jarring you from the deep clutches of sleep. Your bed was never cold, not when your mate was in it. Rhysand ran warm, your own personal heater, usually spending the night curled around you, cocooned inside the safety of his wings, but those great wings and the male attached to them were nowhere to be seen. His side of the bed empty, the sheets rumpled, blanket haphazardly clinging to the side of the mattress like he'd flung it off in a hurry, even though you hadn't heard him get up.

You sat up, shivering in the chill coming through the open windows, the satin curtains billowing in the autumn breeze. It would be too cold to leave them open soon, a fact you knew often put your mate on edge, especially after...

You called for him down the bond you shared with your mate, worried. It had been a couple months since Rhys had returned home to Velaris after Amarantha; the nightmares had been constant the first couple of weeks, at one point they had gotten so bad he'd started spending the night at the Moonstone Palace, claiming he had work to do to avoid you and the rest of the Inner Circle from seeing him like that, but with some help from Madja and some other healers in the city he'd been able to get a handle on it. Usually. Some nights were worse than others. You'd tried to be as supportive as possible, even going down to the Library to read up on ways to help. There were calming teas you'd started making for him before bed, the recipe tucked in one of those old books, but you suspected Rhys drank it just to make you feel like you were helping, the cup still half full on the bedside table. You'd drifted off shortly after handing it to him last night.

When there was no answer down the bond, you crawled out of the bed, dragging the blanket with you. The black silk slip you wore did nothing to stave off the cold, you'd worn the birthday gift from Rhys down to its threads over the years he was gone. He'd offered to buy you a new one--multiple in more colors--but you'd refused. It was your favorite, you'd find some magic to keep it held together if you had to. Still, it was the wrong time of the year for it, and you opted to stay warm under the blanket instead of pausing to change into something else as you left the room in search of your mate, still calling for him down the bond.

He gave no answer, his end silent. As silent as it had been for the last 50 years, that great, formidable wall of adamant shielding him from you.

You bit your lip as you checked each room in the house, all empty, save for the one Cassian was snoring in at the end of the Hall. They'd started taking turns sleeping over, keeping an eye on their brother. Azriel had stayed the night before, Mor the night before that. They stole your wine and played old board games until the early hours of the morning, trying to get Rhys' to laugh, or smile at the least. He didn't do a lot of that these days.

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest. He'd been through so much and half the time he'd just shut down and shut you out, unable to explain what had happened. What she had done to him. Most nights you wondered if there was a way to let you into Hell, just so you could kill her a second time. You'd had a long time to think about what you'd do if you ever had the chance to get your hands on her. Not that it mattered in the end, you'd never been able to get into the Mountain. You'd failed him then and it was starting to feel like you were failing him again now as you all but sprinted through the house.

It took longer than you would like to admit to notice that the balcony doors in the living room were open. Rhys left the windows open, never the doors, even if Velaris was the safest place in Prythian, he'd never leave you vulnerable like that, not unless he was nearby.

Tears pricked your eyes, your lower lip bleeding from how hard you'd been biting down on it as you stepped out into the frigid night air. The lounge chairs and tables along the edge were all empty, no glass of Rhys' favorite whiskey in sight.

Your heart thundered in your ears, thoughts racing. Where the hell was he? Had something happened? Was he in danger?

You were about to start calling his name in desperation before a shifting tile on the roof caught your attention. One of the pieces had been knocked loose--a new occurrence because you'd had to replace them after a drunk Cassian had tried to do a back flip off it last week.

Clutching the blanket around your shoulders with one hand, you used the other to pull a chair over to where the corner of the roof hung over the balcony, and carefully climbed up. The townhouse roof was not as steep as the Palace roof, or even the cabin in Illyria, where you and your mate used to sit and talk about all his plans for his city and his people.

That ache in your chest returned tenfold as you spotted your mate, sitting at the highest point of the roof, knees to his chest, wings wrapped around himself to fight against the cold. His head was tucked against his knees, ebony hair covering his eyes. This was not his spot to stargaze. This was not like all those times you'd sat together, whispering your dreams to the stars, so hopeful and eager for the future. This was not the ambitious and hopeful High Lord who had swept you into the glittering world of the Night Court and mapped out a future among the stars with you all those years ago. You had gone to the cabin in Illyria only once while he was away, and the loss of him, the bond so quite and empty and cold in the place you had formed it had been so devastating you'd almost ripped the place apart one wood plank at a time. At the time you had been so sure you had lost him forever that you'd nearly ripped everything you had built together apart in your grief. You had left all those dreams you shared in those woods and vowed that you would never whisper any prayers to the stars ever again. Not if their heir was gone and their reflection in his violet eyes would never look your way again. You had stopped dreaming in his absence. Nights like this you wondered if he had too. Perhaps the Mountain had taken more from both of you then you dared to admit, even to each other. What good were dreams if the stars no longer listened, if they would no longer answer you?

It was an easy climb to him compared to all the other roofs you had climbed to sit with him in the past, even with the blanket still clutched around your shoulders.

Rhys didn't look up. You weren't even sure he'd heard you. Still, you lowered yourself to sit next to him, the worry swirling in the pit of your stomach only beginning to settle as you took in the jasmine and citrus scent of him. This was the part where you said something witty, threw the blanket around him and chastised him for leaving you alone, but maybe those were games for the people you were before. The last time he hadn't heard you coming, too caught up in his own head to hear you, he'd flinched so hard his powers had knocked a bookshelf over, panic flooding the bond. He accidentally showed you a flash of red hair and pointed nails, scratching at his back before he'd ripped the memory away and locked himself in the bathroom. You'd been trying to find ways to avoid doing it ever again.

It was a long, tense few minutes before Rhys lifted his head off his knees just enough to look at you. "Did I wake you?" His voice was raw, like he'd been screaming.

You wanted to touch him, to hold him in your arms and stroke his hair and make it all better, as his touch had always done for you, but everything was so different. Sometimes you were sure he let you hold his hands because he knew you wanted to, not because he wanted to.

It had been a long couple months, you'd been weighing and measuring every word, trying not to startle him, trying not to make him feel any guilt or shame. He had saved you, and your family, had given everything he'd had to ensure that she didn't taint any bit of your home, you owed him a solid front, a shoulder to lean on. You had not spoken of how scared you had been, how cold and empty and wretched you had felt for every moment of the last fifty years. You'd crafted a nice mask for the court to see, holding steady in his absence, not taking it off, even after his return in hopes that it would ease his burden. But the words came tumbling out of you, the tidal wave of emotions bubbling up and bursting out in a rush, "You scared me."

He sat up a little straighter, pain flashing across his star flecked eyes.

"The bond was quite," tears pricked your eyes. "Cold. You wouldn't answer me. You'd shut me out." It was that last bit more than anything. You could handle the nightmares. You could handle this new version of your mate, because truth be told there had been times you weren't sure he was ever coming back, whatever shape he was in was irrelevant in the long run as long as he was alive. All the newness, the unease and uncertainty, the new quite version of him was easy to handle. But the quiet, knowing he'd shut you out again...

"I know that you need time, and space, and I'm trying to give that to you, Rhys, but..."

He unfurled his wings enough to wrap one around you, an arm sliding around your waist to pull you against his side. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered against your temple, planting gentle, feather light kisses against your skin as you buried your face in he crook of his neck.

He was here. He was safe. This was real. All things you often had to remind yourself of.

"Please don't shut me out like that," you whispered, the tears falling freely down your cheeks. "Not again. I can bear a lot, Rhys, but not any more of that."

His wings came back around to cover both of you as he stroked a hand through your hair. Still, aside from a few more whispered apologies, he didn't speak, didn't attempt to explain himself. You tried to tell yourself it was fine, he didn't have to explain, he'd earned the right to keep whatever he needed to to himself, if he wanted to tell you he would. But he still had not lowered his shields, did not project anything down the bond. A part of you wanted to scream, grab onto that tether that linked your souls together and shake it like you could somehow force life back into it. Maybe things would be better if you could. Maybe they'd be worse. You tried to tell yourself this was enough.

"There are things," he said finally, his voice pained like he was having trouble putting it together, no sign of that silver tongue of his. "Things I can't... can't talk about."

You laid your hand over his heart, feeling the uneven beat. It was rare for Rhys to be so obviously anxious.

"Things I won't talk about."

"It's not healthy-"

"No," he growled, tightening his grip on your waist to keep you from pulling back to look him in the eyes. By the uneasiness of his breathing you thought he might be crying himself. "You do not need to know. You will hear enough of my sins from everyone else."

Sins, as if he had done any of it willingly, as if he'd had any choice in it.

"You didn't have a choice," you began.

"It doesn't matter," Rhys countered. "That is not the story they will tell."

He would be the villain, the little lackey that did her dirty work, the monster that ripped people's minds apart for his evil queen. You'd heard the story in the High Lord's meetings over and over again--and worse, especially from Beron and Tamlin. "I don't believe anyone else's stories. I don't care what they think you've done, or why you'd done it. I don't care, Rhys, because it's not true."

He buried his head in the top of you hair, a shuttering breath ripping out his chest.

You shot as much understanding and love down the bond as you could, hoping some of it would eventually break through that wall between you. "I love you, I'll always love you, Rhys, nothing will change that."

His wings tightened around you, soft moonlight shining through the soft membrane, highlighting centuries worth of nicks and battle scars. You longed to run your fingers over them, familiarize yourself once again with the patterns and feelings you had forgotten in the last fifty years.

"But how are we supposed to move forward if we don't talk to each other?" You whispered. "I miss you. I miss talking to you. You're my best friend, my mate, we promised to always be honest and open with each other."

You twisted to be able to look at him, pulling away just enough to catch the glimmer of tears in his eyes. You reached out gently to wipe one off his cheek and he shuttered at the contact.

"It doesn't have to be tonight. Or tomorrow. Or next week. I know that you need time, and I am not asking you to give me details you don't want to, but there's gotta be some way for us to talk to each other again, isn't there?"

He tilted his head to kiss your fingertips. "I'm sorry, I know I've hurt you," he murmured against your fingertips, his lips soft and warm against your chilled skin. "I'm trying." He moved his lips to your palm, placing featherlight kisses on the way down, his offering of another apology, as if to tell you he was sorry you had to be there to wipe away any tears. He'd been like that before, but not this bad.

"I know," you said, "but in the mean time, can I at least have a thought for a thought?"

He hummed against your palm. "You first."

"I'm thinking we really should have put in more comfortable roof tiles," you said, twisting against the tile that was biting into the underside of your thighs.

He shifted and pulled you to sit in his lap with a huff of what was almost a laugh. The shift in conversation was good, kept you both from spiraling further into all the uncertainty the future still held. If you couldn't talk about the past, at least there were things in the present to talk about.

"And I'm thinking," you added as you settled against his strong chest, his heartbeat a bit more steady against you now. "That you make a very comfortable seat."

"That's two."

"First one was free," you say, resting your head against his shoulder.

He was quiet for a long moment, just the two of you wrapped in each other under the stars.

"I'm thinking..." his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands finding yours so you could intertwine them. "That I clearly need to get you some new socks, your feet are freezing!"

He was clad in nothing but his underwear, you only now realized, and you had instinctively wrapped your legs around his, seeking any kind of warmth you could find. There wasn't a full sleep set between the two of you.

You couldn't help but laugh, even if this wasn't how you'd hoped the conversation would go, at least it was a conversation. "You know I hate sleeping with socks on, that's not fair."

"Slippers than," he conceded.

You intentionally brushed your cold feet up the side of his leg. "Fuzzy ones. And only if they're bright pink."

"Ridiculous," he huffed, "but if you insist."

"I want them to look like cats too."

"Pink cats?"

"Pink cats."

"Pink cats it is then."

You grinned at that. "We can go to the Rainbow tomorrow for them?"

"First thing in the morning," he promised as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

"We should go for breakfast. There's a new bakery on the Sidra. Well, new as in neither of us have been there, it's technically been open for awhile."

"You didn't go?"

You two had met in a bakery in Illyria, had fought over the last chocolate croissant until the shop owner had kicked both you out for scarring the other customers, it had become something of a weekly tradition to find which shop in Velaris had the best ones since. "I was waiting for you."

The arms around your middle squeezed a little tighter.

"I have a list of things for us to do, actually. A lot changed and I thought if, maybe I kept making a list it gave the Mother a reason to bring you back to me." It felt stupid, now that you'd said it aloud that you had hoped depriving yourself of a chocolate croissant would somehow force the Mother to bring your mate home, but you had been desperate, you weren't always thinking clearly.

Rhys nuzzled into the side of your neck. "Thank you, for waiting." You knew him well enough to know he wasn't talking about the bakery or the croissants.

"I would have waited a thousand years for you," you whispered.

"That's a long time without chocolate croissants," he teased.

"They're worth the wait," you replied, hoping he knew you well enough to know you weren't talking about croissants either.

He merely hummed understandingly as he settled against your shoulder, his breathing evening out against your back. You relished in the rise and fall of his chest, of his warm breath against your throat. He was alive, he was here, he'd made it home.

"What else is on this list of yours?"

"There's a new dinner cruise around the Sidra, an art exhibit in the Rainbow, three new plays," you counted them off on your fingers, trying to remember all of them now. Sleep was beginning to beckon again, your eyes heavy, speech slowing. "The Night Orchestra is coming back into town, you missed them twice. There's a new ice cream shop to try..." there was something else, but your mind was growing hazy. A yawn escaped you.

Rhys tried to stand, but you grabbed frantically at his wrists. "I'm ok. Wanna stay here with you."

He settled back against the roof, laying back now with you tucked into his side. The blanket had gotten twisted between the two of you, doing little to keep out the bite of the roof tiles. You didn't care.

"Oh! There's a new place that sells some lacy things I think you'd like," you mumbled as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck and breathed in deep.

"For you or me?" He teased.

"For you to rip off of me," you said.

He kissed your temple, "We'll definitely have to stop there then."

You were trying your hardest to keep your eyes open, really you were, but they were growing heavier and heavier, the stars over head blurring in your vision. Maybe you had been wrong to stop wishing on them, despite all your pain, your mate had still returned to you, that dream had still been answered.

"We're gonna be ok, you know," You murmured into his neck.

"You think so?" He whispered.

"I'll wish it onto every star I see until it's answered," you vowed.

Rhys gripped you a little tighter, you gripped him back, eyes drifting shut fully now.

"Maybe I'll start making wishes again too," he said in your ear. You hoped, as you drifted off, that the stars heard him and would answer this wish too.

[piedpiperart]

Phantom in Gotham

Due to Ao3 being down, I’m posting my DP x DC fic here!

Chapter 1

Tim wasn't sure what about the new kid caught his attention. Maybe it was the black hair and blue eyes, or the fact that he seemed to be as sleep-deprived as Tim considering the deep eyebags. Tim figured it could also be the numerous red flags that somehow keep appearing the more he gets to know Danny. The unnaturally cold hands, slower than usual heartbeat (discovered by Connor), or the fact that Danny used the lunch period as more of a nap time instead of actually eating. To put it lightly, Tim was concerned. So was Connor, but less in a way of ‘hey this kid probably needs help’ like Tim was and more ‘hey this kid might be dangerous’.

But the kid was nice. Tim could see that Danny was a good person. Every morning at school since Danny started showing up- halfway through the school year, which was another red flag- he'd talk to Tim before their class started about everything and anything. Tim learned that Danny liked astronomy, wanted to meet Martian Manhunter someday to ask about space, he had an older sister Jazz and a younger sister Ellie, both of whom he hadn't seen in a while. Tim didn't press, but he was pretty sure Danny was living on his own. He just wasn’t sure why. 

Of course, many possibilities crossed his mind. Tim was a detective first and foremost, and he could never leave an unsolved mystery alone. His list included runaway, kicked out, in danger, or on the run because of meta abilities. Because of that last oneTim wasn’t sure if he should look him up on the batcomputer or not. If Danny was running or laying low for some reason, tipping Batman off about it would not work in Danny’s favor. Tim also wanted to find this out on his own first, without Batman’s help. 

Tim helped as best he could. He brought granola bars for Danny in the morning, who lit up like an excited puppy at the prospect of snacks. He felt good about being able to help his new friend, but wished he could do more than keep him company during class and lunch. Speaking of lunch, Danny never ate much of it. Tim usually tried to get him to eat something, but Danny usually waved him off and took a nap at their table instead. Tim would share a concerned glance with Steph and Connor, but for the most part they let him sleep, and made him eat a bunch of his school lunch after he woke up.

Danny never asked for anything, and he was always cheerful- a forced cheerfulness, Tim could  recognize- catching him in those rare moments when he wore a sad smile, like something he remembered was painful to think about. Tim wasn't sure what Danny had gone through, but he knew it probably wasn't good. He assumed the kid was a runaway of sorts, but Gotham Academy was a rich prep school, so Tim wondered how a runaway would be able to afford attendance at such a school. Obviously the kid wasn’t from Gotham, and that worried Tim with how much crime went on around the city. One possibility was that his parents sent him away as a ‘boarding school’ of sorts. Tim wasn’t sure how Gotham Prep was the best option for that though. 

Tim wanted nothing more than to investigate Danny's life, but had put it off. Part of him wanted Danny to tell him himself, but he had also been swamped with a new vigilante on the streets. None of the other bats ever saw who it was, but they all could feel something helping them or other people out. Like some invisible force they couldn't detect. It was hard to notice at first, with a few crooks tripping conveniently, a well placed pot falling on someone’s head. But it grew to become more, like one of them getting pushed out of the way, or sheets of ice appearing magically on the ground in the middle of summer. Tim had tried to call out, but no one ever answered. After a month, the invisible ghost still hadn’t showed itself, but they knew he- it? she?- was still around. Dick thought it was like a ghost friend, unsurprisingly nicknaming it Casper. Bruce, not so much.

But back to Danny. Tim was worried. Granted, they'd only known each other for a month at most, but he reminded Tim of Dick. Always hiding sad smiles behind false cheer, caring more about the people around them than themself. Tim shook his head, trying to disperse the thoughts around Danny's mysterious past. It would be rude to pry. 

"You sure you don't want to come over after school?" Tim asked,"Steph and I are gonna do homework, you can totally join us if you want."

"Ah," Danny froze, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly a moment later. Tim could see his pale skin and deep eyebags from standing so close. He chewed his lower lip in worry while the taller teen stammered through an excuse.  "I- I have some things to do at home, you know, chores and stuff. Maybe next time."

"Alright,"Tim answered easily, filing the answer down to analyze later. Meanwhile Steph booed at Danny from behind Tim. "Maybe next time? You could come over for movie night on Friday?" Steph added, frustration seeping into her voice,. Tim was sure Danny was either ignoring her outburst or didn’t notice. 

"I'll think about it,"Danny smiled nervously, stepping away and waving goodbye when they got to the street.

Tim waved back, shoulders slumping in disappointment. Steph shot him a knowing glance. "Looks like you're wearing him down at least. He'll be a Wayne before you know it!" Steph cheered, latching onto Tim's arm and dragging him to the car.

"I hope so," Tim sighed. The wearing down part at least, but he wouldn’t argue to having a new brother his age. 

"Hey, maybe he's just nervous about visiting the mansion?" Steph speculated. "Rich people's stuff can be a bit overwhelming. Maybe we can go to his house or somewhere else."

"I don't think so," Tim frowned. "Anytime we ask him to hang out after school he has some sort of excuse to get out of it, even if we invite him to the movies or bowling."

Steph pulled a face,"Well, maybe he just doesn't like you," She teased, then turned serious at Tim's glare.

"I am worried about him though,"Steph admitted, looking over to where Danny disappeared to,"He reminds me of Dick, but like, more sad. You said he was sick?"

Tim nodded in agreement, worrying his lip between his teeth as he thought. “Slow heartbeat, possibly malnourished, and lower body temperature, but other than that he acts fine. No low energy, he does pretty average in Gym class. I found a few diseases that it could be online, but I don’t have enough symptoms to narrow it down and it’d be weird to ask.“

"Have you looked him up on the batcomputer yet?" Steph asked, climbing into the car.

Tim shook his head. "Not yet. I don't want to pry too much, but I think he might be a runaway. It doesn't explain why he's at school, but it would partially explain his poor health. I just really don’t want Batman to find out, and he will if I use the Batcomputer. Connor also said his heartbeat was lower than he’d ever heard on someone not dying, so he might be a meta? It wouldn't be a stretch for his family to have kicked him out for being a meta. It happens."Tim thought aloud.

"Could also be a medical condition, like you said before." Steph pointed out. "I don’t know any metas that would have slower heartbeats, cuz usually enhancements means faster. He does seem kinda tired all the time. And he really doesn't eat much during school."

Tim hummed in agreement. "I'm just worried about him,"Tim sighed. 

"Alright Bruce,"Steph teased, smacking him lightly on the shoulder,"Should I get Alfred to set up another bedroom?"

Tim shoved her playfully, frown morphing into the beginnings of a smile. "I'm not gonna adopt him Steph, he's our age."

"Sure,"Steph shrugged with a smile that told Tim she didn't believe him at all. 

"Maybe Bruce would though, if we introduced them."

"Tim, no."

Chapter 2

[0sincerelyella]

Can you write a ANDREI IOSIVAS fic just cuddling with him or something

My Girl - Andrei iosivas

Summary: Andrei is new to the nfl, just fresh out of college and just having his NFL debut recently, his birthday turns out to be his greatest day in his personal life and his career ever.

A/n: YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES

girl everytime i go to write this HE DOES SMTH AMAZING

babe got his FIRST CAREER TOUCHDOWN WOOOO happy birthday yosh!

y/n, regrettably has not been able to make it to a single bengals game this season. Her long term boyfriend, andre iosivas, was a rookie in the nfl, but y/n herself was finishing up nursing school and she’s just been to busy.

with andreis bitrthday being today, his only wish, which he never voiced to y/n (knowing her busy schedule, he hated being a bother because of his own silly wants), was for y/n to make it to his game.

he met y/n in hawaii while she was on vacation with her family. he worked up the courage to ask the beautiful girl for her number and she thankfully said yes. they did long distance for awhile until both decided to go to princeton. the first time they saw eachother was the most magical moment.

when andrei woke up this morning, y/n had her books and papers spread all across the kitchen table with her head in her hands. she wore her hair in a messy bun, one of andreis hoodies hugging her body as she frustratingly typed on her computer. “how long have you been up beautiful?”

he wraps his arms around her neck as he stands behind her. “four” she said yawning, which wasn’t a total lie.

andrei sighed, kissing her cheek. “i’m sorry love, your gonna ace this exam though” he promised, smiling at his lover. little did he know, y/n took her exam a week ago, getting permission to take it early. “i’m sorry i can’t come to your game today drei” she said, standing up to hug him. “happy birthday though” she whispered, making sure he knew she didn’t forget. he giggled, holding her hips. “thank you sweetheart” he kissed her forehead and spun her around “and don’t worry about the game, you study your butt off and i’ll help you study tomorrow. you’ve got this my sweet girl”

andrei got himself ready and left as y/n held the door open and watched him leave. she said her byes and shut the door. y/n then ran to the kitchen and cleaned up her props, throwing them in the closet. she took off andreis hoodie to reveal the fresh iosivas jersey that was underneath. she quickly got ready with excitement in her eyes. the first game of the season that she can see, sadly, is the sixth one. the bengals have not been doing to hot recently, but y/ns support never waivers

she could not wait to see the smile on andreis face as she drove to the stadium. she practically ran into the stadium to sit down. she sat directly in the front, leaning down and cheering as she watched the game.

when she saw joe scrambling to find a person to throw the ball to, that’s when she saw andrei. she yelled so happily as the ball was thrown down the field and turned into andreis first career touchdown. y/n screamed at the top of her lungs as she jumped up and down. happier than anything.

she watched as her face appeared on the jumbo tron. she also watched as in the excitement, andrei looks towards the jumbo tron and his whole face changes. his neck snaps towards the seats as he searches for her. and once their eyes met he ran as fast as he could. “happy birthday!” she screamed, his smile was the greatest gift even if it wasn��t y/ns birthday.

“You suck!” he giggled, handing her the game ball. “your kidding!” “gotta go love!” andrei ran back to the field and y/n couldn’t be happier.

after the game, y/n waited patiently as andrei sprinted at out the locker room in a record breaking 20 minutes. and as he saw y/n standing with a gift and the game ball in hand he tackled her into the biggest hug she’s ever received. “i love you a thousand times over” he whispered, swaying back and forth. “best birthday ever” he added, kissing her passionately.

after the kiss, y/n handed him the gift. “y/n, you are gift enough” he said, still standing in the middle of the facility not knowing which reporters are watching and recording their every move but andrei didn’t even think twice, his excitement was too overwhelming to care who watched.

y/n shook her head and watched as he ripped apart the packaging and opened a glass incased orange and yellow hibiscus flower. the flower was wilted, and the glass read the date of their meeting. “i got it incased in glass a year after we met when we were still long distance and i was waiting for the right moment to give it to you” she waited six years to give him this gift.

“you waited six years?”

“i wanted it to have value. eventually i had forgotten, and the other day while i was coming up with this plan i had found it, and figured this birthday was a better time than any to gift you this gift” andrei had tears in his eyes

this gift, the flower, was the flower he gave her the day they met. hand picked, and handed straight to her along with a request for her number.

his first career touchdown, his girl finishing her test early and cutting all school work for the next two days just to be with him, and the best gift he could ever receive. it created his dream.

andrei quickly drove the two home, practically running inside with his girl in his arms. “my girl,” he breaths, laying her on the couch and jumping on top of her. he burrows his face into her shoulder and lays there “this is the only thing i’ll be doing for the next two days” he speaks into her neck and just lays there

“my girl” he breaths again, “being married to you will be the greatest thing in the world” y/n holds her birthday boy in her arms. “my beautiful beautiful girl”

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, part 19

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous part

Part 19: the curse

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For the first time in my whole life, things were going my way. I was at peace.

Spring had fully turned to Summer and I often kept the windows open in the mornings or on a breezy day. It let fresh air circle through the dusty house and gave more critters for Niffty to chase after.

Since the Overlord meeting, Alastor had been nice. Well, nice in his own way. He kept his snide, condescending comments to himself (most of the time) and left me alone after our training sessions.

I noticed the increase of our proximity whenever we were in the same room. He stood uncomfortably close and circled me a lot when we spoke. His presence was always against my shields, as were his hands with my shoulders. He always seemed to have a claw somewhere on me.

After our training sessions, Husker and I would spend time outside lying around. We lay on our backs and look at the sky in the field or just beyond the forest line. I didn't realize how much I needed those silent, peaceful moments. I felt wonderful to lay there and do nothing. No running, fighting, arguing, surviving, nothing.

It did, however, give me lots of time to think about my Sanctuary. I had a layout already in my head and planned on how to build and maintain it. We had to be self reliant or have a strong, unbreakable bond with traders. Soul deals would be a perfect way to do that but I wasn't about to become even more of a Demon and trap someone in a deal like Alastor.

Speaking of whom disappeared for the entire day and didn't return until well into the night. Husker had told me he wanted to do a session when he got back. So I was forced to wait for him by the fire of the sitting room. Husker waited with me, Niffty dozing off with her head on his lap. She had been meddling with his feathers for an hour before. The small girl had really grown on me.

Alastor's shadow slipped out of the fire and the Radio Demon manifested in the middle of the room. I noticed my shadow morph from my figure into her new one. Since Spring, my shadow started to have its own form. She wore a large hat with a net that dropped past her face, like someone from the Victorian time. Her eyes and sharp teeth sometimes shone through as a bright white. She always seemed to make herself known when Alastor was around.

I silently followed Alastor into the library. I was shocked to find he didn't slam the doors like usual. He sat at the pair of chairs in between the two large windows. My nerves went through the roof and my Demon side itched to come out. My walk slowed as I sat down in the chair beside his, a small table the only distance between us.

"Are you ready to attempt mind magic again?" he asked. It seemed uncharacteristic of him to actually ask if I wanted to do something. Though I had feeling he would push me to do it anyways, even if I said no.

"What exactly are we doing?" I questioned, not at all hiding my reluctance.

"We're visiting your dark memory again. This time I'm going to be there to keep you from losing yourself again."

"What? I'm...but I don't..."

He leaned his elbow on the armrest and held out his clawed hand. His yellow teeth were showing and he had one leg crossed over the other. "You have worked at your magic muscle, so keeping yourself separate from the memory will be easier this time.”

"But I'm...you should’ve warned me that we were doing this."

"Would it have made a difference? You may have worn yourself down worrying over it." He inched his claw closer.

I kept my hand glued to my arm. This wasn't something that someone could just get over. Even Husker had made sure not to mention the incident. He never pressed and he made sure he kept his distance unless I initiated it. That's how you were supposed to handle it.

"I don't think I'm ready for this." My eyes were scanning every inch of him. I was waiting for him to pounce, impatient that I was hesitating.

"I believe this may be the final thread to your curse," he said. "This would make it far easier to access and learn magic. But you have to master keeping yourself separate from your own memories."

I was quiet for a moment. I looked down at my hands and let my Demon side show. I wanted to learn more magic and rid myself of this constraining curse. The faster I learned magic, the sooner I could build my sanctuary. Yet I had tried for weeks to bury that memory again.

Alastor's patience was unnerving. He sat and waited, hand still hovering in the air in between us. His eyes never left me and I could feel his presence on the outskirts of my shields again. He had been the only one who had pulled me out of the dark spots in this difficult magic. He had helped with the Striker memory, the one that stayed in my vision, and when the incident was first revealed and I fell into the darkness. He had the power to keep me from losing myself, but I wouldn’t exactly call him a savior.

Passing this test meant we wouldn't have to keep doing this. He's trying to get rid of the curse, which he stated was a mind thing, and that hopefully meant I wouldn't have to do more of this mind magic anymore.

Finally, I took a deep breath. I rubbed my sweaty hands on my pant leg and sat up straight. My shadow stood against the wall behind me, a shadowy hand making its way onto my shoulder.

"Okay." I forced myself not to look at Alastor's smiling face. It might throw me back into my nerves if I even caught a glimpse of it. So I turned my head just enough to see his hand and reached out. His claws wrapped around mine one at a time. He pushed past my shields and gradually melted through my body. It was cold, like always, and I didn't fall into my mindscape until the cold had reached my toes.

I opened my eyes to find myself in my own head. The shields were still holding and Alastor waited in the center with me. His cane was behind his back and he looked to be inspecting the bland landscape.

Noise caught my attention. I turned to see Striker yelling at me in the healer's tent. He dragged me back to my cage and slammed the door behind me. Everything went into high alert when the dark figures surrounded my cage. I felt myself walking out of the shields, trying to get back into my body to stop the memory from happening.

I was abruptly pulled back. Alastor moved to stand in front of me, letting go of my arm but putting his own across my chest. I barely had a chance to make a remark as the memory kept playing. My body itched to move, to go back into my physical body to stop it all. I couldn't let it happen to me again.

And yet I had to let it. Alastor's hold on me was tight, even when I dug my claws into his skin. I twisted my heels into the ground and gritted my teeth. I pretended to ground myself, pretended that my shields kept me from leaving, and pretended that whatever was happening wasn't actually happening. Tears fell down my cheeks as I fought against the painful tug of my heart and mind.

Just a memory. Just a memory. Just a memory.

Then it stopped. I found a woman's arm across my chest instead of Alastor's. I was in a cage, a large one, not my mind. The woman was much bigger than me and she was whispering things in my ear. I didn't understand what any of it meant but I could feel a prickle in my neck and back. It felt like a weight was being placed on my shoulders and seeping into my very being. A kiss to the forehead locked everything in place.

I shook my head. It was just a memory. I pressed my head into her shoulder and imagined myself back in my own shields. When I opened my eyes I found myself leaning into Alastor's shoulder. It felt like a thread was being pulled out of my head and down my spine. I shivered as the feeling spread to the rest of my body. The thread finally left my body with a snap.

I looked up as Alastor dropped a red thread from his pointy fingers. It floated to the ground and vanished. As soon as it was gone from sight, everything opened. I could see and feel everything physical and magical.

My eyes opened to the library again. I could feel Alastor beside me, see and smell his magic, as well as Husker and Niffty in the other room. I could actually see their souls, see a small thread connecting Husker and Niffty to Alastor, and a larger one between me and him. There was magic in the house, too, all over. I felt giddy with the sense of magic flowing through everything and into me.

"Do you feel that?" Alastor stood, my hand still firmly trapped on his and pulling me to my feet. He smiled wide and tapped his fingers on his cane. It felt like a flow of magic was cycling between us. It was the same feeling as when a strong gust of wind blows in my face. It felt good.

"Did I do it? Did I unravel it?" I asked. Husker and Niffty were well awake and watching intently.

"Oh you most certainly did. The curse is gone and your true power shines through." His smile widened and looked janky, truly devilish. His eyes had a look of insanity to them. "It will only grow and grow with time. I will be there every step of the way to guide and harbor this power of yours."

I suddenly wanted to be twenty yards from him. I tried to let go but his grip only tightened. His shadow loomed behind him with a large smile and my own shadow turned into a dragon again.

"Our magic combined is like nothing I've seen before." He jerked my hand back so I stumbled into him. My head had to tilt way back just to keep eye contact. "Together, with our combined power, we will be untouchable." His hair had hardened into spikes and his antlers grew overhead. His eyes darkened and his smile reached well past them. Were those stitches on the corners of his mouth?

His claws weren't touching my skin but his grip was crushing. I could feel pins and needles poking through my finger and it went straight up to my shoulder.

"You're...you're hurting me," I whimpered.

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Author’s Note:

Someone got a taste for power! Something tells me he’s not gonna want to leave her alone any time soon.

As always, let me know what you think 😉

[cherryrainn]

Could you please do a onceler caring for sick reader plzzz like hurt/comfort sort thing that would be really good 😊

ooh yes, this is gonna be so cute. also props to this person for giving me all these awesome ideas!

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— your presence is an antidote

onceler x sick!reader

the morning sun gently bathed the room in a warm, golden glow as you stirred in bed, feeling utterly drained and unwell. every muscle in your body ached, and even the slightest movement sent waves of discomfort through your weakened frame. as you weakly shifted in bed, you heard a soft rustling of footsteps approaching.

the door creaked open, and onceler entered, his eyes widening with concern as he took in your pale complexion. with a soft smile, he approached you, his voice filled with genuine care.

"oh no, y/n," onceler exclaimed softly, his voice laced with worry. "you look... miserable. what happened to my bundle of energy? you're supposed to be full of sass and mischief, not sick!"

you mustered a weak smile, grateful for his presence in this moment of vulnerability. "i think i caught a nasty bug. i feel awful."

onceler's expression softened further, and he nodded sympathetically, his fingers brushing gently against your forehead. "well, don't cha worry, y/n! dr. onceler's here to the rescue! i'll make sure you're back on your feet in no time." he said with a chuckle.

with a tender touch, onceler helped you sit up, arranging a mountain of pillows behind your back to provide support. he disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth and a glass of water.

"first things first, we need to cool that overheated head of yours," onceler said playfully, placing the cool cloth on your forehead. "and hydration is key, so drink up!"

you sipped the water gratefully, feeling the soothing coolness slide down your throat. onceler settled beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in your discomfort.

"now, you just sit back, relax, and let the expert take care of you," onceler declared with a mischievous wink.

as the day wore on, onceler transformed into your personal nurse. he fetched extra blankets to keep you warm, adjusted the room temperature to your liking, and made sure you had everything within arm's reach. he prepared a steaming cup of herbal tea, its comforting aroma wafting through the room and enveloping you in a sense of warmth.

"you gotta rest and get all your strength back." onceler said gently, urging you to lie back down. "i'll take care of everything, just focus on getting better."

as you settled back into bed, onceler's presence brought a sense of comfort and reassurance. he fetched a stack of your favorite movies, arranged them on the bedside table, and selected a cozy blanket from the closet, carefully tucking it around you.

"and for some extra healing power, i present to you... the magical movie marathon!" onceler proclaimed with a flourish, his voice filled with whimsy. "even though you're sick, that's not gonna stop me from tryna bring a smile to that face."

true to his word, onceler sat beside you, holding your hand as the movies played. he laughed at the funny scenes, mimicked the characters' accents, and occasionally paused to bring you a warm bowl of soup or a cup of hot cocoa.

as the day wore on, you couldn't shake off the feeling of fatigue and a persistent cough that had settled in your chest. concerned, onceler hovered nearby, his brow furrowed with worry. just as you were attempting to sip on a cup of hot tea, a familiar voice echoed through the room.

"well, well, what do we have here? y/n, you feelin' under the weather?" the lorax inquired, peering at you with a mix of concern and amusement.

you nodded weakly, mustering a small smile. "yeah, i'm not feeling so great."

onceler's frown deepened, and he crossed his arms. "yup, y/n's sick. what brilliant plan you got in your mind?" he asks the lorax in a playful manner.

the lorax stroked his mustache, thinking deeply. "well, how about we go sit outside and soak up some fresh air? nature's healing powers are just what the doctor ordered!"

onceler's eyes widened in disbelief, and he quickly interjected, "what? they're not going outside when they're sick! come on, think of something better!"

the lorax scratched his head, his mustache twitching. "hmm, well, in that case, maybe a spoonful of honey mixed with a dash of cinnamon could help soothe their throat."

onceler rolled his eyes, unable to contain his skepticism. "oh, sure, because that's a cure-all! listen, let's leave the remedies to the experts. y/n needs rest, comfort, and some good ol' chicken noodle soup."

the lorax pouted, his voice tinged with disappointment. "alright, if ya' say so. i'm just tryna help, ya' know."

with a wave of his hand, onceler playfully dismissed the lorax. "sure. now, why don't you go check on those trees or something? we'll handle the sick bay here."

you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. onceler's playful banter and ability to create lighthearted moments even in the midst of your illness brought a sense of warmth and comfort.

as you enjoyed the nourishing soup and basked in onceler's care, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence. he may not have needed the lorax's advice, but his own brand of loving attention was exactly what you needed to feel better.

together, you and onceler spent the evening watching your favorite movies, sharing stories, and occasionally bursting into fits of laughter. his company lifted your spirits, making the illness seem like a minor inconvenience rather than a burden.

as night descended, onceler tucked you snugly into his bed, making sure you were warm and cozy. he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice filled with tenderness.

"rest well, sleepyhead. tomorrow's a new day, and i got a feeling you'll bounce back with more energy than ever!"

with a final smile and a kiss on the forehead, onceler dimmed the lights and quietly left the room, leaving you to drift off into a peaceful slumber, knowing that you were in the caring hands of someone who loved you deeply.

[eras-mus]

If requests are open, deuce in the second year with platonically a first year male who greatly admires the deliquent version of him. When deuce was still young he accidentally helped a younger boy who was being bullied, which made this boy have a huge admiration for deuce, which made him become a delinquent but lighter than deuce, some time passes and deuce He's in his second year and I've found the boy in NCR again and he still admires him a lot.

†My Savior†

×Platonic Deuce x Male Reader

×Reader is a first year (dorm is not mentioned)

×Deuce is a second year

-

Y/n didn't think much about his last. He wanted to forget most of it, he found it embarrassing, weak, pathetic.

He had grown up in a horrible neighborhood in a bad city and he was just a helpless mouse, practically waiting for someone to attack.

He would prefer to not remember that.

Though, he often thought about one day.

He remembered everything in such detail, from the way the rain soaked through his uniform to the pain he felt when he was shoved to the ground.

It was cold and wet that day, clouds mocked him as he ran from a group of boys a year above him, not worrying about puddles as water splashed all around him.

After was could've been 5 minutes or 2 hours he finally slipped in mud running off of the grass and onto the hard concrete.

The blood on his freshly scraped hands was quickly wiped away by heavy rain. Although his whole body was in a burning pain all that he could think about was the approaching danger.

As he heard footsteps slow down he finally accepted his fate.

The predator had trapped its prey and had planned on finishing him slowly so he could feel evey agonizing bite.

"Not so brave now, are ya?"

The voice echoed with a oh-so familiar ringing in his ears as a fist slammed into his face.

Y/n sobbed as the stranger began to brutally bash his head into the concrete while the strangers friends just watched.

He couldn't make out what happened next but all of the sudden the attacks seized and yelling could be heard.

Y/n forced himself up to see what was going on but he would've never guessed what he saw.

A blue haired boy, one he had never seemed but wore the same uniform as him, absolutely beating the strangers face in with his bare hands.

As he looked around he noticed that a group of other teens were brawling and ganging up on the attackers group.

Y/n sat there in absolute disbelief as the blue haired boy finished up with his victim who had been long out cold. Soon he was approached by said boy and was able to soak in his feature, his torn, messy uniform, blue eyes that matches his hair, and a symbol he couldn't make out on his face.

"Hey are you okay?"

His voice fades in and out.

"Can you answer me?"

All of the pain caught up to the prey as the adrenaline wore off.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

.

.

.

That was all so long ago and Y/n's skin showed it.

Past wounds had healed forming scares, eye bags had begun to disappear, and eyes almost seemed warmer.

In the years following the incident, he had started fighting back and started protecting his underclassmen.

Though he never saw his savior again he did learn that his name was Deuce Spade after asking around.

Deuce Spade.

That name never left him.

He might've been dead if it wasn't for Deuces actions.

And Y/n didn't go a day without wanting to thank him.

.

Y/n was accepted into Night Raven College with no problems.

His grades were good, he was physically strong, and showed great promise in magic.

The world was at the top of his fingers, no one knew who he used to be in this new place.

It was about halfway through the year and he walked the halls with pride, proudly wearing his uniform as he made his way to the locker rooms.

There was morning Spell-Drive practice today, a sport Y/n had taken interest in since starting, he was looking forward to improving his skills. Once he had changed into his gym uniform and began to stretch.

The practice match went well, Y/n scored quite a few points for his team, which seemed to aggravate the other team but he brushed it off.

After the practice was over Y/n changed back into his uniform and began to head to class.

That is until a group of students stopped him in the hall.

"You must think your so much better than us, score'in all of this damn points!" One spat as he circled Y/n.

"Having the coach complement you so much must be going to your head." One whispered, shoving the seemingly helpless boy.

Soon a certain trio was able to hear shouting from down the hall.

Yuu being Yuu quickly ran to see what was disturbing the peace and Ace and Deuce followed suit.

"I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE BUT TO US YOUR JUST A LITTLE BITCH!" A blonde haired guy from the group had grabbed Y/n by the collar and was now screaming in his face.

Just when Deuce was about to step in Y/n took a swing to the guys face, as the rest of the students stared, shocked, Y/n took the opportunity to jab a green eyed person who was standing to close for comfort.

In a few moments Y/n had rendered the group defenseless, leaving the second years in shock.

As he took in his surroundings, collecting anything he had dropped, he noticed a familiar head of blue hair.

His draw dropped and his eyes widened as he felt like he was going to melt at any given moment.

"Is it just me or did the guy we just watched destroy like four guys turn into a deer in headlights when he saw Deuce" Ace whispered to the Ramshackle perfect.

"Are you Deuce Spade!?" Y/n asked a little to loudly for his preference.

"Ye-yeah..?" Deuce asked jumping back as the unknown guy ran up and hugged him.

Quickly catching himself in his actions, Y/n stepped back with tears in the corners of his eyes.

"S-sorry you probably don't remember me, do you?" Deuce shook his head.

"I'm Y/n L/n and I you saved my life."

"HUH???" The three shared a shocked reaction as Y/n began to explain.

.

"I guess I was just out looking for a fight that day and afterwards noticed him..." Deuce admitted as the three walked away. "I never thought he would remember that."

"Well Deuce-y, looks like you got a little fanboy!" Ace teased.

"At least you changed one life, more than most can say." Yuu rationalized.

"Yeah that's true..." Deuce took one last look over his shoulder to glance at the boy. "Looks like he only saw my good parts from then."

[officialdaydreamer00]

Doomsday Device

(overblot!irene lovejoy lore)

Description: Every type of magic has its own consequences. Except for the type that has been plaguing her family for generations in the past. a so-called "unbreakable death sentence" set the moment the user learn their first spell...

CW: Irene's descent into madness, use of black matter for blood, violence

Tags: @azulashengrottospiano @identity-theft-101 @xen-blank @siren-serenity @cookiesandbiscuits @dove-da-birb @krenenbaker @ferris-the-wheel @edith-is-a-cat @axvwriter @ameleii @loser-jpg @taruruchi @thehollowwriter @escha-evenstar @cyanide-latte

Inspiration: Doomsday by Derivakat

The long awaited lore!! As always, remember to comment and reblog if you enjoy my work!! ^-^

"Today couldn't possibly get worse..."

It was a rather gloomy day at NRC. Unusually so.

Classes seemed more difficult than normal, it was unbearable and hard to breathe. And there was just something lingering in the atmosphere that sent the student body on edge. Something sinister.

Grim didn't hold his usual confident attitude and kept darting his eyes around nervously. Moreover, he attended classes with only Ace and Deuce since the Prefect was not with them.

... The Prefect was never seen without them.

The duo had been worried the entire morning. They didn't see her anywhere, either. In fact, no one did.

Where is the Prefect?

That sent everyone on a search for the missing prefect, by the order from the headmage and the housewardens. They search high and low, from every classroom to the dorms, but still no Prefect.

Unknown to them, the wind blew harsher than before, picking up the dust and sand like a theatre's curtain.

"That wasn't me..." They heard Housewarden Kingscholar muttered. Looks of confusion were thrown around, then who did that?

As the dust dissipated, their bleary eyes darted around, coughing from having inhaled the dust while they searched desperately for the missing Prefect.

"Prefect!"

"Prefect, where are you!?"

"Myah!! Where did the water come from!?" Grim jolted. He frantically tried to paw off the water on his face, only to freeze up as a sharp metallic smell hit his nose and pulled his paw back. All he saw was black.

Ace turned towards Grim at the cat monster's sudden stop, his face paled once he saw the viscous black liquid smeared on his face.

"Shit- Grim... That's not water—!!"

Suddenly, loud gasps were heard from the student body. Some pointed their fingers, looking up at something, or rather, someone.

And someone familiar, indeed. There on top of the castle they called their school, a black clad silhouette stood. Black smoke rolling from the hem of her floor length skirt as her cloak billowed in the wind.

And flying ominously above her head, murders of crows circled into a black cloud looming over the silent castle, much to the students' growing horror. Their caws all melted into a cacophony, horrible and deafening, bringing shivers down their spines.

Several sharp eyes caught a glint of metal shimmering under what little light going through the shifting cloud of crows. A long, slender blade clasped tight in her hand.

And with one final caw in unison, the crows above scattered around her, staring down at the people below. A large pair of wings as dark as the clothes she wore unfurled from her back, flapping a few times before they settled comfortably behind her. The cleared area of sky shined down on her figure like a halo, as if she was an angel of death sent from above.

"Prefect...?" Deuce muttered in worry. Gloved hand tightened around the magic pen, he did not want to hurt his friend, even if she had turned.

"What's the meaning of this!?" Headmage Crowley finally arrived at the scene, infuriatingly insufferable as always. "Ah, there you are, Irene! What are you even doing up there!?"

She stayed silent, staring down at Crowley with an unreadable look. Then, a snort escaped her, a giggle, which soon turned into a full blown laugh. She sighed, petting a crow that was sitting on her shoulder as she looked down at Crowley with a crazed grin.

"Why, the crows are demaning bloodshed, of course." She answered, her smile widened even more, if it was even possible. The same black liquid dripped down her chin, staining the collar of her pristine white shirt. "And who am I to deny them such entertainment?"

Another round of caws echoed in unison, hundred of crows scattered over the sky, cawing endlessly as waves of shadow extended from under her feet, gradually swallowing the entire campus in eternal darkness.

"Down with NRC, boys. It's was never meant to be..."

It was a bad omen. Not as a threat, but an inevitable promise of total destruction.