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raisin-shell · 10 months

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Play With My Hair next>>

Durotan/Orc x Reader (male or female) Fluff 7/29/23

Note: this does not go along with the movie timeline nor the game. In this AU, Durotan can speak with humans in their language. Furthermore it’s my blog and It’s all made up in my head. Enjoy.

For as long as you could remember, Orcs and humans never got along. Always fighting. Humans out of fear. Orcs out of threat. There was always heated tension between the two and unfortunately for you that heat burned deep within your belly. Curious you were about these creatures and surely there would be at least one you could, if at all possible, befriend. You wanted to learn their ways. They intrigued you.

All for not. Your father wouldn’t have it. He was a fine captain. A renowned orc hunter who served his king well. Alas you sat, locked away in his keep for every time they’d muster up their war-band for another massacre, you’d embarrass both your father and bloodline. Making a profound fool of yourself was staple. You loathed all the death that surrounded you, both human and orc lives taken so needlessly. So much so that you shamed your father by not following in his footsteps, headstrong and rebellious. Regardless of your protest… these hunts still happened. And today was no different. Or would it be?

Hours passed. The sun began its travels across the sky and once more you peered through the tiny window of your solitude. Your mother had long passed. You had wished she was still alive. Her death had hardened your father. An orc had taken her life. A tear began to trickle down your cheek at the thought of this, just as the sun began to reach its final destination for the day. The clambering of shoed horses began to echo in your ears as the band led by your father made their return only this time with a prisoner in tow. You struggled to catch glimpse but you could hear and see all the kingdom’s people gathering around, some shrill screams and loads of chatter engulfed the city gates and seemed to boom louder as they shut.

You raced to the door knowing it was still locked but hoping for some way to break free. They had never returned with a live orc before. At least not in your lifetime. The crowds began to swarm around the large beast, shackled in chains and encased in a massive iron caged wagon as it began its decent down into the mouth of the dungeon. You began to tug madly at the heavy doors and as luck would have it the latch lifted. The guards had all but abandoned their post, most likely to see about this creature. Nevertheless you crept through the corridors, slipping away down the west tower’s stairs.

Fortunately for you, you knew the castle inside and out. You knew every secret passageway. Every trap door. Every nook and every cranny had seen your fingertips at least once. You made your way unnoticed, down deep into the belly of the dungeon where you had made acquaintances with very many prisoners before. Perched upon a thick oak rafter, you remained hidden but still in the line of site as the iron cage began to roll beneath you. Eyes widened with wonder as the wagon stopped and the soldiers began removing the locks and iron chains barring the wagons doors. There, laying in the center of the cage you could clearly make out the silhouette of this beast.

He was massive. The body of a human ten fold. Muscles tense even though it was apparent he had been knocked out. He was stripped of his armor if any with no weapons. Nothing but a loincloth was left on the poor creature. He was bloodied with large cuts and scars covering his body. You could not make out his face but you could undoubtedly tell he was a male and as his body lifted softly in rhythm… he was alive! He was breathing.

“Shit.”

Your breath had been taken away in awe, pressing yourself flatter against the stone walls as your kind began to enter to wagon. They unchained him from his wagon prison only to drag him across the jagged wooden floor, letting him fall to the ground as the wagon creaked and squeaked due to his weight.

“Chain him.”

Your fathers voice rang through all the commotion, several soldiers following suit grabbed whatever they could and dragged him across the piss and shit stained floors. They shackled his wrists behind his back and also his ankles, securing him to the thick cold stone wall of his cell. Your brows arch as your father approaches the creature, kneeling down and gripping his strong jaws, lifting his almost lifeless head to face his as he glared at him.

“When he comes to, he’ll talk. If he doesn’t, he and all he loves will suffer the consequences.”

Your father dropped the orcs head with disgust, turning heel as he matched angrily out of the dungeon and the cell gate slammed shut. He was left alone, beaten and battered. You had to move quickly for if you were to gain this creatures trust… you had to act fast. He could die in this rotten heap. The dungeon master was one miserable burly man, but a drunk he was also. The wheels turned in your mind as you devised a plan. Hurried you remembered the small flask of wine you had stowed in your pocket. Surely you could bribe him once more like you had done so many times before.

You leap down from the rafter, careful not to startle any of the other prisoners as you made your way towards the disgusting brute, giving him your ultimatum and flashing the flask at him to boot.

“Give me that bottle! And get out of my way!I care not what you do down here I’ve told you thousands of times if memory serves!”

The greedy man ripped the flask from your grip without warning and turned from you, turning the bottle up to drink. He was so determined to get that flask from you he hadn’t noticed you had slipped the keys from his belt. All to easy.

Your footsteps pattered softly towards the orcs cell door, pressing the key into the latch and unlocking it. The door creaked open and there you saw him… he was indeed massive, far much more larger than you but you didn’t let that stop you. There was a bucket of fresh water and some cloth set aside on the floor. You reached for them and walked carefully up to the poor creature, kneeling down and shaking your head at the deep cuts still bleeding that he had. Your hand clenched the cloth, dipping it into the cool water then wringing it out as you began to tend to his wounds.

About an hour passed. The buckets water was now tinged in blood and you began to step back a bit as he started to stir. His hands spread across the floor, a low growl rumbling from his chest let you know he was in much pain as he began to sit himself upright. You lower yourself to the ground in a seated position. The last thing you wanted to do was to be looking down upon this creature. You wanted him to know you were there to help, not a threat.

“H… hello. You’ve been out for the past hour or so. I.. I’ve been trying to help you. You.. you must be so frightened. I’m so very sorry for what they have done. It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes widen as his golden gaze hits yours, intense and deep with sorrow.

“I’m not frightened for myself.”

He finally spoke up causing you to jump back a bit.

“I’m frightened for my family. My wife. My son. I fear what will happen to them.”

His eyes left you and fell to the floor as if he were completely defeated. You knew exactly what he meant by his statement.

“Well… there’s not much I can do to help with that. All I can do for now is help sooth you.”

You inch closer to him, reaching your hand out to his shoulder and slowly cupping it over the mass of muscles.

“So… how might I do such a thing? What soothes you?”

You inquired intently as the orc sits for a moment. His eyes dart back to yours then to your hand still placed upon his body, then to his cleaned wounds. You could tell he was thinking, pondering exactly why this… human was offering help. None of that mattered now. All that mattered was that you were here with him in his time of need.

“Play with my hair.”

He stated simply after what seemed like ages of silence. You leaned back a bit biting your lower lip. From what you did know of this race was that their braids represented something.

“Are you sure? I mean… don’t they mean something? Your braids and beads?”

The Orc sat for a moment not making eye contact with you before he spoke.

“They meant something before I got caught. You ask what would sooth me. I say play with my hair. My mate would do this after I had seen battle.”

The massive orc began to lean back a bit, his shackles hindering his comfort but you offer to sit behind him to further cushion his solid back. Your eyes begin to dilate at the site of his broad shoulders so thick with toned muscle. You lap your lips and inhale to focus on the task at hand. His hair is deep ebony. Thick and luscious. It smells of fresh timber and fire. You begin by slipping each hollowed out bead from his strands. Some were made from wood. Some ivory. Some were carved out of bone. Some were what seemed to be solid gold. Each was hand carved, painted and decorated in his clans colors. There were many different fabrics, strands of cord that wrapped around his hair as well. They were beautiful to your eyes but nothing was more beautiful than this massive creature submitting to you, allowing you to touch his head in such a manner.

You started slow, fingers delicately untwisting each thick braid until each lock cascaded down his scared back. His breathing became low and rhythmic. You could tell this was relaxing to this orc. Your appendages carefully pulled through his long thick mane, no snags to be had and you were very surprised that this creature was very clean despite what he had been through. When you reached the top of his scalp you were wary… the braids were tight against his skin. Finger tips began to once again work their way through the calculated zigs and zags. He had tilted his head back for you, leaning into your touch. He craved this. Once all the braids had been loosened and his trimmings had been removed, you began to dig the points of your fingertips into his scalp.

The massive orc let out a low satisfying grown, his legs stretching outward as his back arched. His eyes fluttered shut and he began softly panting as he breathed. Oh how you wished you could stay like this forever. You took this time to study his face. He was very handsome, a strong expressive brow with an even stronger jaw. Eyebrows as thick as the hair atop of his head. His eyes were a golden color and seemed to gleam even in the dungeons darkness. And his tusks… one had been chipped no doubt from fighting with other orcs, the other pierced and decorated with their kind’s jewelry. And he had a bit of facial hair. His skin was olive in color and his ears were pointed at the tip and pierced. Nothing like the tales of orcs that you had heard.

Just as he began to nod off against your palm’s caress, you could hear loud footsteps nearing the creature’s cell. Without question you stood nearly causing him to fall backwards. Quickly you gathered the loose trinkets you had taken from his hair and stowed them in your pocket where the flask once was.

“I… I’ve got to go. But I will see you again. I promise. I’m going to get you out of here one way or another.”

You smile at him as he looks on, eyes still filled with sorrow as you quickly shut his cell door. The footsteps became louder and before you scurried away you had asked for the creatures name….

“Durotan. My name is Durotan… thank you.”

#world of warcraft #durotan #monster lover #orc lover #monster fucker #i love orcs

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androidcharles · 10 months

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Remember that dumb post I made saying I was gonna write an essay on how Touhou and Henry Stickmin Series are basically the same thing well I'm finally gonna do it here I fucking go already

Similarities

High cast of characters with only a few being relevant

In Touhou, Zun has created SEVERAL characters for the games, however these characters are pretty much bosses in a sense. In the end, they don't really serve much purpose other then being obstacles for the mission that the main character Reimu (among many playable others) have to mow through in order to actually get through the game. Henry Stickmin is the same way. With the exception of maybe a few outliers, most of the cast really doesn't matter. You will have those characters that become popular with a niche few, but in the end, it's a high cast of characters with only a few being relevant.

It's obscure media unless you're actually looking

While it can't TOTALLY be said for Henry Stickmin, tell me anything you know about Touhou besides Bad Apple!. It's literally a series that you probably don't know much about from an outsiders perspective, but if you were take a closer look, there's a ton of lore, interconnecting points and such that all ultimately culminates. That's basically both games in an nutshell. You aren't gonna get much from looking at the games at a surface level, but if you dig deeper, you'll find some gold. Or the gas main. One or the other really…

High volume of a certain gender with few exceptions

This is a half and half on the similarity front, but a huge majority of the Touhou cast is female, with a few exceptions in the mangas and outside works from the game. A huge majority of the Henry Stickmin cast is male with a few exceptions that can be seen in the background (and one main character of course).

SHIP WARS

Well… do I even need to say it? It's pretty common in any fandom in all honesty

The main protagonist is tied to luck

Reimu, the title girl for the game Touhou is attributed to her absolute good luck. Apparently her luck is so good that enemy attacks often dodge her rather then her dodging the attacks. Because of this, not only is she able to solve any problems that come her way, but she's also pretty stubborn because of it. While Henry can't say the same thing on the good luck, he's still pretty tied to luck anyway. Even in the wrong choices, you can't help but wonder where he gets most of his gadgets. And it's lucky that he found a crate full of supplies on top of a prison no less…

Fan games

While not at the volume of Touhou, Henry Stickmin does have a few fan games that have come out in honor of him! So that's one thing they share.

Obvious Differences

Theme songs

Every character in Touhou has a theme song that accompanies them, even one off bosses that never appear in any other game. However, the same can't be said for Henry Stickmin, for obvious reasons…

Game type

Touhou is a primarily shoot em up genre with some exceptions and Henry Stickmin is a point and click game.

....that's all I have on the difference front...

#the henry stickmin collection #it's gonna appear in the 2hu tag anyway so sorry to any fans ;-;#the narrator speaks

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that-one-rat-in-the-cupboard · 1 year

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18+ content!

Ok, hi, hello everyone. So, I have a few stories I've been working on and need help deciding which to post first. Most of them have at least the prologue complete, and some are just ideas I have. However, they are all Stranger Things fan fictions and all but 1 are Cannon Character x Oc because I SUCK at x Reader's. Anyway, here we go.

Get Isakied Bitch(Steddie x female Oc): Main character is a huge Stranger Things fan and gets sent from our world to the world of Stranger Things. (Prologue needs MAJOR editing but chapter 1 is complete)

Don't Be Gay in Indiana(Billy Hargrove x male Oc): When a new kid around Billy's age moves to Hawkins and becomes the new freak of the town and starts tutoring Max, Billy can't tell if the tension between him and this new kid is sexual or not. (It is. It very much is. Prologue and chapter 1 are complete)

Louisiana LuLu(Eddie x Oc, Wayne x different Oc): A girl turns up on the doorstep of Berri Love's trailer. Berri recognizes the girl as Luane, a girl she once babysat until 3 years ago. What was she doing here, and why was she so terrified of Berri's closest friends, Eddie and Wayne Munson. (Based off the song Leave Luane from 35MM, except she survives and escapes. Prologue and chapter 1 are complete, chapter 2 in the works)

Now for the ones that are just ideas.

Gotta Keep Her Happy(18+ Eddie x reader, Jason x reader): Jason Carver, for the life of him, could not get his girl to cum. He's tried every way he can, but he just can't. However, he's heard the stories of Eddie 'The sex god' Munson. Jason wants to keep his girl happy, but is letting his rival fuck her really worth it? (This is a one-shot, possible 2-parter if the first part goes well. Mostly complete)

Pandora's Box(Enzo x Oc): Enzo and Hopper meet a new prisoner the night before they fight the Demogorgon. When the time comes to fight the beast, this new prisoner is able to distract it. Apparently, she is not entirely human, partly a different creature from the Upside Down, and can communicate with other creatures from there using growls or chirps or other animalistic noises. Enzo wants to learn more about her now, curiosity grabbing him by the throat, but he knows she's dangerous and he isn’t sure if that’s a box he’s ready to open yet. (None of this one has been written yet, but I have plenty of ideas)

Polaroid Princess(Rockstar!Eddie x Oc): Once Corroded Coffin finally made it big, they took the world by storm. Their concerts were fully booked and hundreds of women(celebrities and your average Joe alike) were practically on their knees and begging for at least a touch from one of the band members. Eddie was the most sought after, but he always rejected any advances from women. People began to speculate he was gay. Then a picture from his high school days starts circulating. It's of him and an unknown girl making out at a party. Everyone starts asking Eddie who this girl is, and even though he denies ever knowing her, the next two albums he releases are jam packed with love song after love song, something Corroded Coffin had never written before. Who was this girl, and why was Eddie suddenly so in love with her?(no chapters are written for this one either, but I have plenty of ideas. Even if another story gets chosen, I might just start writing this one between the others)

Beware the Human in the Cottage(Platonic! Various Fae!Characters x Oc/Reader): The old wooden cabin just over the hill and bordering the river had been left abandoned for centuries, yet never crumbled. Any time someone new moved in, the kelpie in the lake quickly ridding of any human to come near the house. However, this new human seems to be smarter than the others he has seen. They have more control, more knowledge on the 'supernatural'. He just hopes this human doesn't find out about the fae that live deeper in the forest. (This idea was inspired by @pastel-pillows Stranger Things Fae head cannons. I loved the idea and I'm probably gonna write this even if it isn't chosen. If you think the idea is cool please go check out their head cannons, I personally love them a bunch!)

Alright, so, there's the main ideas I have so far. I have plenty more but I need to edit them and figure out plots a bit more. I'll eventually post all of these, I just need help choosing which one to post first. Let me know which one you think should be first, thank you!

Az, signing off <>

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie x oc #steve harrington x oc #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x oc #short stories #smut #18+#i just have too many ideas #and not enough time #happy hollidays ig

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yhwhrulz · 4 days

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Worthy Brief - June 3, 2024

Pete, yes, integrity matters!

Proverbs 11:3 The integrity of the upright shall guide them: but the perverseness of transgressors shall destroy them.

Please forgive us for the length of this particular devotion, but it was sent in from some friends of the ministry in Nigeria -- please take the time to read this powerful message.

An aging king woke up one day to the realization that should he drop dead, there would be no male in the royal family to take his place. He was the last male in the royal family in a culture where only a male could succeed to the throne - and he was aging. He decided that if he could not give birth to a male, he would adopt a son who then could take his place but he insisted that such an adopted son must be extraordinary in every sense of the word. So he launched a competition in his kingdom, open to all boys, no matter what their background. Ten boys made it to the very top.

There was little to separate these boys in terms of intelligence and physical attributes and capabilities. The king said to them, 'I have one last test and whoever comes top will become my adopted son and heir to my throne.'

Then he said, 'This kingdom depends solely on agriculture. So the king must know how to cultivate plants. So here is a seed of corn for each of you.Take it home and plant and nurture it for three weeks. At the end of three weeks, we shall see who has done the best job of cultivating the seed. That person will be my heir-apparent.' The boys took their seeds and hurried home. They each got a flower pot and planted the seed as soon as they got home. There was much excitement in the kingdom as the people waited with bated breath to see who was destined to be their next king.

In one home, the boy and his parents were almost heartbroken when after days of intense care, the seed failed to sprout. He did not know what had gone wrong with his. He had selected the soil carefully, he had applied the right quantity and type of fertilizer, he had been very dutiful in watering it at the right intervals, he had even prayed over it day and night and yet his seed had turned out to be unproductive.

Some of his friends advised him to go and buy a seed from the market and plant that. 'After all,' they said, 'how can anyone tell one seed of corn from another?' But his parents who had always taught him the value of integrity reminded him that if the king wanted them to plant any corn, he would have asked them to go for their own seed. 'If you take anything different from what the king gave you that would be dishonesty.'

'Maybe we are not destined for the throne. If so, let it be, but don't be found to have deceived the king,' they told him. The d-day came and the boys returned to the palace each of them proudly exhibiting a very fine corn seedling. It was obvious that the other nine boys had had great success with their seeds. The king began making his way down the line of eager boys and asked each of them, 'Is this what came out of the seed I gave you?'

And each boy responded, 'Yes, your majesty.' And the king would nod and move down the line.

The king finally got to the last boy in the line-up. The boy was shaking with fear. He knew that the king was going to have him thrown into prison for wasting his seed. 'What did you do with the seed I gave you?' the king asked. 'I planted it and cared for it diligently, your majesty, but alas it failed to sprout.' the boy said tearfully as the crowd booed him.

But the king raised his hands and signaled for silence. Then he said, 'My people behold your next king.' The people were confused. 'Why that one?' many asked. 'How can he be the right choice?' The king took his place on his throne with the boy by his side and said, 'I gave these boys boiled seeds. This test was not for cultivating corn. It was the test of character; a test of integrity. It was the ultimate test.'

If a king must have one quality, it must be that he should be above dishonesty. Only this boy passed the test. A boiled seed cannot sprout.' Never!!

Pete, we live in a society that has become obsessed with success and many show success at any cost. We say the end justifies the means. It is the tragedy of life. You see, failure often is an invitation to God to show that he is all powerful and does not need help to make us great or to bless us.

Your family in the Lord with much agape love,

George, Baht Rivka, Obadiah and Elianna (Missouri) (Baltimore, Maryland)

Editor's Note: During this war, we have been live blogging throughout the day -- sometimes minute by minute on our Telegram channel. - https://t.me/worthywatch/ Be sure to check it out!

Editor's Note: We are planning our summer Tour so if you would like us to minister at your congregation, home fellowship, or Israel focused event, be sure to let us know ASAP. You can send an email to george [ @ ] worthyministries.com for more information.

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ciar-galyna · 6 months

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A Court of Shackles and Glass

Chapter Two

Word Count : 5.6k

Warning(s) : Brief mentions of depression

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Lyphon

There's something calming about laying in a field of grass and small flowers, listening to the soft hum of the wind and the occasional gentle melody from..whatever sings here. Everything smells so nice and fresh here. There was nothing but darkness and chains in the prison, so to be able to do this, to be here, outside of the wretched cursed cube, feels like a miracle.

I soak in all the sounds and smells and the feel of anything, wind or grass. It's all so refreshing and..different. There are some places like this back home, but most places are crawling with creatures that could absolutely hunt and kill you. Plenty of the plants aren't all that nice too. So to be somewhere so peaceful and safe feeling, it almost feels like a miracle.

I close my eyes, letting my eyes rest a little. Despite wearing a bandage around my eyes, it can still be a little bright for me. Light and red still bleeds past the bandages. While it may be dim, it's a slow process, getting used to the light again. Lucien, the male who smelled of apples and a burning hearth, had been kind enough to give me a bandage for my eyes. We're both hoping I adjust quickly so I can use something else. Tamlin, the High Lord of the Spring Court, where my prison was place apparently, had been generous enough to give me a guest bedroom in his manor, which doesn't seem to be in the greatest condition based on how much rubble is on the ground and how poor the quality of some of the house feels. I suspect it was much better some time ago, but right now just based of touch, it feels like it's seen much better days.

The grass shifts beside me, like someone stretching out as they sit down. I turn my head slightly. The smell of the rain and earth greet me, followed by a sense of something powerful and great being there.

"Good afternoon, High Lord. What brings you here today?"

High Lord Tamlin sighs a little quietly. He's been asking me a few questions every day, learning more about my home and family, having anyone willing search through any records that could verify anything I've said. I warned him that I'm not sure if Prythian ever kept any records on my family or any trades or alliances or even enemies. My home Court has long been forgotten I'm sure, and we never really tried to reforge any relations with Prythian. Naturally this makes me incredibly suspicious, possibly insane looking. However, appearing in a buried prison that looks like it wouldn't belong anywhere in Prythian sort of helps my case.

"Tell me about this End Court of yours again, everything."

"Very well. It is miles above the Night Court, you likely won't find it on a modern map, perhaps a very ancient one if you like to keep those around. The terrain varies, but it is mostly made of forests, mountains and great rivers or lakes. There is a cliff facing Prythian that my siblings and I would sit on the edge and watch any approaching ships and visitors. The inhabitants also vary, however majority are beasts, and not the kind it's easy to win against. There's even a colossal dragon that towers over the Court when it wishes. Lucky us my sister, ever the beast tamer, befriended him. That being said, there are Fae that live there. Mostly in towns since the forests aren't always the friendliest.

"My family has been the rulers of the Court since the beginning. That being said though, there are at least two other figures in the End Court that hold power in politics. Technically the Court is, or was, divided into three different territories. A third was ruled by a creature known as 'The Emperor'. He's known for his shapeshifting capabilities and immense power. He doesn't even need a spellbook to cast spells or curse someone. Half was ruled by my family or at least the High Sovereign. And the final sixth is ruled by another creature known as 'The Sorcerer'. He too has great power, however he doesn't tend to get involved and most of his territory is fairly empty creature wise. In..not very recent events, The Emperor decided he would allow the High Sovereign to rule his people, so long as they never forgot to respect him and that he rules a third of the Court. And that, High Lord of Spring, is the End Court in it's barest of bones."

The High Lord hums, staying quiet for a few moments. If he really wanted to know everything, I'm sure we'd be here for a few days, going through it all, and I don't even know everything.

"The End Court, do you believe it was created with the rest of the world? By the cauldron?"

It's a question I wasn't fully expecting..and not one I really have an answer too, but I can't give him nothing.

"I...don't know. Probably. It's what most of my family believes, but it's not clearly stated in any records or history books we have. I've asked my Great Grandfather about it and he..was incredibly vague, I didn't really get an answer from him. I do know that once he did mention he suspected that the End Court originally acted as another version of the Prison, the one found in the Night Court. And my family was it's wardens. It would make sense, but I honestly don't have much proof of it."

High Lord Tamlin hums again, taking in the information. I sense he's getting a little annoyed with the less than proven information though, an annoyance steadily building at the more I tell him, the more people come back with nothing to confirm my answers. If I'm not careful, or I can't prove anything, I could very well be endangered.

"So then, what exactly do you have as definitive proof of these claims? No records have been found of anything mentioning or discussing the End Court nor anyone with the last name Mortis, aside from one man, many many millennia ago."

"That, is likely my Great Great Grandfather. Many called him 'The Knight', but he was far from the virtuous kind you might imagine. The Mother sent him to the End Court. Either as a death sentence, or a way to control him. Either way, he's still alive and perfectly capable of reliving his bloodiest days."

I almost chuckle, he was one incredibly feared man while he was still in Prythian. But I wave a hand in the direction of the trees in front of us, a squirrel, or at least a formally living one, comes running over, eager to be pet and fed and played with. I can hear the disgust in High Lord Tamlin's inhale, the slight increase in his heart rate. The smell of death and rot follows the animated squirrel, who I pet happily. The smell is not pleasant, but it brings me a strange comfort. And it's a relief at the success of this squirrel. I feel as if all skill I had with my powers has really gone down the drain, all the lack of use really coming in to hit me like a charging drake. I've started going through the forest on walks, joining some in hunts, searching for anything dead, anything small. And so far, this is the second successful squirrel. It's depressing to think of how I was able to raise armies, how my siblings could take down legions, and that now we're all likely husks of our past selves, all because our pathetic, moronic cousin imprisoned us just to stand a chance against us. Even if he's dead I won't let him rest for long.

"Anyways, it would be much appreciated if you asked around about my sister and brother. They too were imprisoned, I don't know where, else I would've made a specific request. But they're both my older siblings. Achlys is the oldest, he was a general back home and he was skilled with any metals or earth, by that I mean stone and dirt. He's a bit more on the...lively and zestful side. My sister on the other hand is named Gyn and she's excellent regarding anything with cells. Father focused on teaching her how to rule a Court...which makes sense. Like I think most Courts, the High Sovereign is chosen usually chosen through magic and based off power. She's the most powerful, and we've had one or two High Ladies before her. She's quiet, but smart..although she can really get exhausted just by being around someone. They'll both confirm what I've said and I'm sure they could even take you to our home, they were always stronger, and faster to learn and adapt."

I take a few breaths and clear my throat, I've already spoken more than I normally would and my voice is turning hoarse because of it. I'm little tense at the silence though. I know there's always a pause for when the High Lord of Spring is thinking through everything, absorbing the given information. But I already feel like I'm starting to walk onto a tight rope, what exactly can I give him that will prove everything? I'm hoping Achlys and Gyn have better luck than me, that they're already twice as strong and well trusted by whoever found them.

"Achlys and Gyn?"

"Yes. They're both older than me and...you'd feel the power difference, it's a little hard to ignore..my sister is compared by my family to my Great Grandfather and his Father a lot, power wise. Although, if you're really feeling bold, you could always send a ship, maybe journey there yourself?"

"Not happening."

I hum, it was mostly a joke, but it would be interesting if he actually liked the idea and considered it. Without another word the High Lord stands, walking away.

"Nice chatting with you..." I whisper, in some ways he reminds me of Great Grandpa, in the manner of a cold and pure business attitude, stoicism, and a need for something definitive to prove something..most times. In a way it's almost nostalgic for me, although a bit tiring. Lucien's company is a bit nicer, at least he's good at talking to people and understanding their emotions and motives. It reminds me of my own siblings and how they have different and similar traits of their own. Achlys is great with people, but sometimes cannot read a room for the life of him. Meanwhile Gyn is good at reading people and understanding them, however can be bad at social interaction.

I sigh, silently praying and wishing for their safety, their success, and that they find me.

Gyn

It's incredibly warm in the Summer Court, and bright. Definitely very bright. The Court is beautiful, truly, I have no doubt about that. However..in Adriata I have quickly learned there is a lot of gold, or very bright, reflective surfaces. Mostly water, which is deathly blinding for me on a good day. But there is also a lot of shiny, bright gold and white stone. Looking outside honestly feels like I'm kissing any eyesight I had goodbye. Permanently.

That being said, Tarquin, the High Lord of the Summer Court and the one who'd originally had the prison opened and me freed, has been incredibly kind and considerate, he even gave me a room underwater that stays dark most of the time. And he does his best to shield me from any light he thinks may be too bright while I'm outside my room. In return he's asked for information, which it's only fair I give him. To both of our surprises servants had found very, very old records that had mentions of the End Court and trades done between the two Courts. They'd even found an old map, though it does need a little updating since it's from when Grandfather was a child. But either way, it was a very pleasant surprise for everyone.

I hum quietly as I ascend the stairs towards the dining room. I tend to at least try attend every meal, it was tougher at the beginning of the week, when I was still weaker and needing practice and healing, sometimes servants would actively try to debate with me on not eating in my room. But it's easier now, my eyes are better, almost fully healthy now. Though, back home it was never really this bright, except on the cliff, where all you would see is the vast, sapphire sea and bright sky, if it wasn't too cloudy. Speaking of the sky, I've yet to see even a hint of a cloud anywhere between Adriata and the horizon. I can recall Tarquin laughed when I brought it up, stating bad weather was a rare occurrence for Adriata or the Summer Court in general, which managed to surprise me.

The servants bow their heads a little as I approach, pulling open the lovely doors to the dining room. I smile, thanking them by name. I did my best to learn everyone's names, though some servants had gotten too startled or were completely convinced I was tricking them and didn't give me a name. I still thank them regardless. My humming falls silent as I enter the room, shielding my eyes with my hand and smiling as Tarquin looks up. He grins.

"Good morning, Gyn. Did you sleep well?"

"It's getting a little better each night. Slow progress, but still progress." I take a seat, wings already shifting to get in the most comfortable position possible, despite the chairs not being made for those with them. Tarquin hums, taking a sip of whatever it is he's drinking.

"I had commissioned you a chair, by the way. Everytime you sit down I can't help but notice you look incredibly uncomfortable. It should be finished by the end of the week."

"That's too kind of you. Neither of us know how long I'll actually be here for, and besides, I'm used to this. I've met many who have never even considered getting chairs or stools for those who have wings."

"I'm not sure why you struggle to just say 'thank you' so much. And besides, you promised you'd visit. And for while you're here I don't want any of my guests uncomfortable. So I commissioned you a chair. I don't care if you leave tomorrow. Just say thank you. Don't tell me I've wasted my time and money on you."

I wince. I guess that was a bit rude, wasn't it? Mentally I scold myself. Manners and responsibility were the two things Father focused on the most when I was a child, it seems suddenly I forgot both of those things and needed reminding.

"I'm sorry..yes, thank you. It's very generous of you."

"See? Was that so hard?" He chuckles, stabbing his fork into half of a strawberry.

"...a little."

He laughs at that, going back to enjoying his breakfast. Sighing, I serve myself a few things, nothing too much though. We both eat in silence, either lost in our thoughts or listening to the crashing of waves. Occasionally Tarquin glances at me, clearly curious and wondering something, but it feels more like he's trying to solve a puzzle. He only speaks once we're both done eating.

"So...you've talked to me about your Court and what's it's like living there, yes? What about your family? Would you be willing to tell me about them?"

Slowly I nod. "Yes. I can tell you about them..um, ugh where do I start. Well, I have two brothers, who I believe I've already mentioned. Achlys, my older brother, and Lyphon, my younger brother. Our Father had been the acting High Sovereign until there was an accident and my Great Grandfather took over again. My Father passed away..a while ago, and it was soon after his death my Great Grandfather announced the next High Sovereign would be chosen soon. It was that night that my cousin, Ulysse had drugged us with a very heavy dose of something meant to keep abilities in check. With a small force he had dragged down to where the prisons were, the chains slithered out like snakes and one by one we were dragged into the prisons, sent off to wherever for however long."

Tarquin, leaning forward a little as he listens, a sympathetic look in his eyes. It's a little surprising, but it's nice someone is actually interested in what I'm saying. So I continue.

"Before everything that happened Lyphon had a lover and three children..I'm hoping they're all alright. The kids were fairly young when we were basically kidnapped, so I do hope they don't hate Lyphon when he comes back. I know his spouse was very understanding and loving, so I doubt they'd let them hate him." I hum, almost going deep in thought. "But I'm sure everything is alright, they are all strong and capable. And I'm sure my Great Grandfather will take care of them too."

Tarquin smiles softly, waiting patiently for a moment to see if I'll continue speaking. He speaks once he's sure I'm finished.

"I'm becoming curious about your Great and Great Great Grandfathers. Your Great Grandfather certainly seems to play a large role in your family.."

"..yes. The history of the Court and my family might or might not be necessary, but I'll still tell some of it anyways. My Great Great Grandfather...was..how do I put this. He..was a conqueror, a warlord that excelled in waging war and slaughtering thousands. He was a force all feared, so much so the Mother sent him to the End Court as a means of distracting and trapping him..my Great Great Grandfather is someone even the Emperor fears, and many say he was once meant to die like anyone else, but Death refused his soul, so now he can never die." I almost shudder at the thought. "No one in my family, but my Great Grandfather have seen his actual appearance. I can remember learning how everyone in my family, once they become between 10-15 years old, they're summonded by him. There's a tower he stays in, and my Great Grandfather brings you there. You'll be judged by him and you're either deemed a 'Knight's Child' or not. Very few of us have actually been deemed a 'Knight's Child'."

I'd met my Great Great Grandfather once, in person. The moment has never left me since. Nothing could have prepared me for him, his icy hands and vibrant, crimson eyes that just carve their way to your soul. It felt like the rawest form was suddenly exposed and being examined by the reaper. I'd never frozen so bad in a moment, I'd never felt a fear so carnal before, nor would I later in life. Some might laugh at the rumours, the tales of him, the creature he could become when high off bloodlust. But when come face to face with him, suddenly all courage bleeds out from your body and you're nothing but a pathetic mouse or insect under the eyes of a titan who had every right to kill you on the spot.

"Gyn? Is everything alright?"

Tarquin waves a hand in front of me a few times, making me jump slightly as I snap back to reality.

"Yes, sorry, just got caught up in a few memories, that's all."

"Are you sure? You'd gone rather pale and you..almost looked afraid."

"Yes, I am fine. My Great Great Grandfather was just terrifying to meet. Nothing happened, it was really just his prescense."

He frowns, but relunctantly nods.

"Anyways. My Great Grandfather is really important in the family. He's been basically someone we all look up to, but truly respect. He's on the colder side, but he can be loving in his own way. We have similar or matching abilities, so he was the one to train and teach me since no one else could fill the role. He's been ruling the End Court for some time, and we all trust his judgement, though he can be a bit blunt about it. And...I'll admit he's a lot like his Father, he's powerful, very much so. If he wasn't in the End Court, I'm sure he could or would have followed in his Father's footsteps.."

Tarquin hums, smiling a little.

"It sounds like you admire him."

"Admire, respect, whatever you want to call it. I do love my Great Grandfather, he's done a lot for me and helped me in many ways. I owe him a lot, honestly."

He chuckles at that, leaning back in his chair and taking a sip from a well made goblet with the style of crashing waves and seafoam. I smile, starting to dig into my chosen foods. Everything is always excellently cooked and appears both beautiful and delicious, this morning is no exception.

"I like speaking with you, Gyn, and I do enjoy your company. Would you tell me about your brothers and Father?"

I nod as I swallow a mouthful of a pastry, seriously who makes the food? It's incredible!

"Sure. Achlys is my older brother. He's older by about 12 years and he is quite...he's something else. He reminds me of fire in the way he burns with passion while being warm with love and care. But like fire he can be quite dangerous and chaotic. He makes an incredible general, but he has a bloodlust I've only seen in some of my family members. I respect his capabilities, but I also know he can be hot headed and hold a grudge, especially when family or friends are involved.

"Lyphon, on the other hand, is opposite to that. His attitude towards others is cold and harsh, something like a blizzard or some sort of winter storm. He has his own way of showing his appreciation for those he loves, and no he is not secretly some mushy, lovey dovey softie behind closed doors. He can be judgemental and ruthlessly correct any mistakes, even small ones, however he can understand you if you merely explain to him your motives or cause for purposeful 'mistakes' and everything is done out of love and a need for perfection from fear of something going wrong and someone getting hurt.

"As for my Father...well he was interesting while he was still alive. When I was a child he had me attend lessons preparing me to become the next High Sovereign since I was somewhere between 10 and 12. He would never give me even an inch with anything. He was strict and seemed to love teaching and encouraging responsibility and independance. I could beg for hours just to be able to play with Achlys, demand why he was never in lessons, why he could have anything he wanted and I had to do hours of homework and chores to even get a sliver of what free time he had. It was always the same answer 'you will be High Sovereign one day, your strength bleeds through you into the air like dust. You must be prepared for that day.' But he never answered me whenever I demanded why I had to be taught so young. He merely would mumble something about children being impressionable."

I sigh at the memories. I resented every lesson and night of dreaded, rotten homework made up of false. fictional reports, documents in need of signatures, and emergency events. For a while I envied Achlys, but eventually I gave up, merely looking down and going about everything like nothing mattered anymore. I had given up on the idea of having any sort of free time or fun, my childhood had been ruined and taken from me because my Father deemed it 'neccessary'. But...there were moments where Achlys shined, 'kidnapping' me to go have fun and explore and get me away from the evil paperwork. There were even days where I myself ran away into the woods to spite my Father, to get away. But that was a different time, and many things happened then.

The mood feels as if it's dipped a little, Tarquin watches carefully, almost studying me. I clear my throat.

"Sorry, that was a bit much..and biased. My Father wasn't terrible. But um..do you have anything planned today? I'd hate to keep you from anything important."

At that Tarquin smiles.

"Fine, I'll let you get away with that one. But actually no, today I am completely free. I was thinking I could give you a tour? Since your eyes seem to be better."

I smile, nodding.

"That sounds like a good idea, thank you. Though I'll probably need a wide brimmed hat.."

He chuckles. "That can be arranged."

Achlys

The hearth stays dead, I refuse to let it live. While the warmth of the fire would be nice, comforting almost, I'm ready for that light. Heavy, thick curtains hang from the windows, blocking out all light. Sunlight, moonlight, doesn't matter. Both are too bright. Starlight is..bearable, but the moon isn't usually fully gone from the sky or dark for very long. So the curtains stay shut all day and all night.

I hum softly as I play with the metal that makes my bedframe. Fenix, ever eager to hold things above my head and demand I pay him back with lives, gave me a room with many things made of metal. While most might find this place too cold and uncomfortable, almost insulting, I find it to be a sickening gift. Constant training and practicing has kept me exhausted the past week, but it's good. I'm improving quickly, growing back to my full strength. Soon I'm sure I could even leave on my own, venture out to find my siblings, maybe play hero. Their prisons were also solid metal, ancient and powerful metal, but still metal. And they're all massive too. It would be easy to find them and drag them up and out of wherever they are.

My humming stops as I sigh, a little heavily. That would be nice, wouldn't it? Swooping in and saving my siblings and being seen as their awesome big brother again, be seen as a hero in their eyes. The relief in their eyes when they would see me at the entrance to their cells, happily sputtering how they're relieved I'm okay and how I've found them. Yeah...that would be great.

I can remember many times I would rescue you them from whatever at home. Lyphon would go exploring in the woods alone, brave and strong, but not nearly as familiar with the creatures as me or Gyn. Wouldn't you know he's pissed something off and it's about to try to kill him for it, but I would swoop in last minute, getting him back home and going back to either calm or knock out or kill whatever it was. As for Gyn..well Dad really could be stupid. So focused on raising the perfect High Sovereign, so stupidly blind to how depressed he had made his daughter. I could remember how desperate she was to just have a smidge of the childhood she was supposed to have. So I did what I thought could help, I'd 'kidnap' her and take her to Great Grandpa's for however long and we'd have fun. Great Grandpa understood everything and he would never give us away, he even helped us a few times. Those were fun days, thrilling too. Dad would be livid when we returned, but I always managed to get her out of everything, and myself sometimes. It was always worth it, hearing my sister finally laugh and giggle, see her smile and actually react to everything, to see her look alive again. What I'd do to hear my siblings laugh again.

I close my eyes for a moment, letting the darkness envelope me momentarily. There's a strange peace in the silence of ones bedroom at night. And one that allows me the peace and time to think properly. Ulysse had mentioned Prythian as he laughed at us. Assuming he was laughing that we'd all be stuck here in prisons, that narrows down possibilities. There are only 7 Courts in Prythian. My gut tells me that we're not all in the same Court, that would be too risky for him. So that narrows it down to 6, then 5 if I figure out where one of my siblings is.

Ulysse knew some of our biggest fears based purely on incidents that happened when we were kids and the stories that were told. So, going off me as an example and good starting point. My prison was placed in a cave, a large, deep cave. I've hated caves since I had to fight a wyrm hiding in one, a vicious, massive wyrm that reeked and nearly ate me. So then, Gyn hates deep, dark waters. Twice she was dragged down into the deepest lake and forced to escape before something or someone captured her and kept her at the bottom. There's water everywhere, it surrounds Prythian, but only one Court is really known for its water, and why not put her somewhere she'll be surrounded by it 24/7? She'll have been placed in the waters of the Summer Court. Lyphon..is trickier. He's terrified of being buried alive after the Emperor used him as leverage and buried him in a coffin in the family cemetary. We only got him out because of interference from our Great Great Grandfather. I'm doubting he was placed in the Night Court due to it mostly being mountains. So there's only 4 Courts left. Spring, Day, Dawn, and Winter. I'm really hoping it isn't Winter. But the list has definitely narrowed down.

Huffing I open my eyes, a new determination in them. Sitting up I examine my bed briefly. It's a four poster bed, each corner holding a metal ball the size of my fist. Concentrating on one of them, I restrain the urge to reach for it and touch, that would make this too easy, the metal begins to twist and take a new shape. It stays quiet, much to my satisfaction. It only takes a little while before it stops, now appearing to be a simple, but strong flame. I nod, onto the next one.

It takes me a total of two hours for me to finish changing all four metal balls into perfect, sharp shapes. One corner fire, another a tree made of flowers, the third a clam with a pearl in the center, but sharp teeth protecting it. The last one a dragon egg hatching with a small dragon peeking out. I'm panting a little, exhausted but definitely happy with the work. They're all perfect, not a single mistake. I grin as my energy slowly returns within a few minutes. My stamina is returning. Soon the earth will tremble with every step I take, I'll be returned to my normal self, and my siblings will have a protector again.

Heaving a sigh I flop back onto the bed, head hitting the pillow and eyes closing. That's when it will be better, once everything is back to normal. Once we're home..and that sewer crawling dustmite pays for his betrayal. Yes, it will feel alright again. But until then..

Pieces of metal fly towards me, smoothly they fall and gently land in my palms. Somehow, these are easier to make than the actual shapes around my bed. The points form sharply enough you could stab someone with it. Perfectly shaped little holes form to make room for gems. They all form to fit our heads without discomfort. Once I'm home, I'll forge proper versions, but for now, once I see them again these will do.

Opening my eyes I check my work, just as I imagined. Three crowns, each unique to their own soon-to-be wearer. Harsh, sharp points join around in a circle for Lyphon, a crown that could be compared to daggers being placed in a circle to create it. Detailed, bone and vertabrae like pieces form elegant but sharp jewel, tear, or leaf shaped arcs around in a tiara form for Gyn. She'd definitely appreciate it and its detail. As for mine...one a true king, a true warrior would wear. A more traditional style, but a mighty one nonetheless.

I hum content as I sit them next to me, shutting me eyes to sleep. Soon. I would find them soon.

~~~

Hello, thank you for reading. I hope you're having a good day/night. Please remember to take care of yourself.

~~~

P.S. This fanfic is available on Quotev and AO3

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #a court of shackles and glass #a court of thorns and roses #fancfiction #chapter two #chapter 2 #acosag #mortis #tamlin #tarquin

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

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Can I request NSFW top dano! Riddler x bottom male reader ? they met in Arkham asylum.

I think $ex in jail is gonna be lit 🔥😌🤤

Edward Nashton/The Riddler x Male reader

Im still new to writing smut, especially bottom reader since that’s not really my thing. But since you asked ill try and write it for you 😘

This is also my first time writing smut that isn’t in headcanon format, so if its written badly and has bad pacing that’s why.

I just wanted the reader to have powers so now they have fire powers.

This ended up alot longer than i had planned, so Riddler fans eat up.

Nsfw under the cut

Edward had been in Arkham for a little over a month when you were brought in, a thick collar around your neck with glowing lines and a pair of what looked like thick chunky bracelets around your wrists. The guards threw you with little care into the cell across from him, one of them going as far as to spit on you when you hit the ground.

Your door was shut with more locks than any the brunette had seen before, and your windows were covered with dark shutters that told him you were in solitude for whatever you did to end up here. You piqued his interest, and when he heard the night guards mention Batman, he paid even closer attention. It turned out you were a meta, one with fire and heat-based powers at that.

They called you the Hellbringer instead of your name, just like they called him the Riddler. Apparently, the collar and bracelets were to suppress your powers. You had been caught by batman, with the help of another hero, Superman. From the guards ranting, it became apparent you had picked up where Edward left off, taking out those who ruled Gotham like it was their own playground. But unlike him, you had burnt them to a crisp with no mercy. Leaving their corpse as a warning.

It made warmth pool in Edwards stomach as he heard it, a lovestruck smile pulling itself to his lips as he pressed his ear against the metal door that locked him in his own cell. When your solitude was finally finished, Edward took to standing on his toes to look out the window on his door, hoping to catch glimpses of you. One day when he was once again looking, he caught your eyes, the two of you staring at eachother. It felt as if your eyes spoke a million words, and Edward was sure his eyes were heart-shaped by the warmth that was now spreading to his chest.

In your cell you felt the same heat pool in your chest. It wasn’t very different from the heat that normally coursed through your veins, so you grabbed onto it and held on tight. You had been going crazy since your powers were caught from you, leading to you scratching at the collar and bracelets till it drew blood. It had been during one of these episodes that you looked out through the window in your cell door and caught the eyes from the cell across from you.

You couldn’t see much of the mans face, but you knew it was the Riddler, as the guards liked to kick and hot the doors and yell at prisoners. You bit your lip as the heat in your chest grew to your abdomen, letting go of your bloody wrist to run a hand over the hem of your boxers. Typically, you weren’t allowed to pleasure yourself, but the guards didn’t seem to want to even get close to cells when prisoners were busy.

Grabbing at the half hard length in your boxers, you gave it a squeeze as the Riddler’s eyes darkened from across the hallway, like he knew exactly what you were doing. Your wrists throbbed from the hard treatment you had been giving them, swallowing the spit that was gathering in your mouth, neck crying out as the burning of the collar flared. You could see the Riddler talking, but you weren’t good at lip reading, but you had a feeling he was telling you to stop what you were doing, and arousal turned in your being as you forced yourself to let go, your cock throbbing as you let go. The satisfied grin that spread across his lips was enough to tempt you to grab it again, but you didn’t have the time as the guards did their round.

You seemed to hit a routine, the Riddler and you. At night when the guards did barely quarter of the rounds they should be doing, the two of you would stare at each other, you could see the mans lips moving as he talking, but couldn’t hear his voice no matter how hard you tried to. But no matter how much time passed, and how much you wanted too, you never got off, as he seemed to know exactly when you were tugging at yourself, and one half litted look had you tucking yourself away to pull and pinch at your chest instead.

Edward took great pleasure in the desperate light in your eyes as he once again denied you, massaging at himself as he saw frustration pouring off you, as he watched you put the bottom of your shirt in his mouth, and he could only assume you were teasing your chest instead.

He would lay awake at night thinking about you, his eyes fluttering as he could almost feel your mouth on him or the weight of you bouncing ontop of him, the same frustrated and desperate look in your eyes as you chased your high. Edward smirked to himself as he thought of those power suppressing tools gone, how maybe fire would swallow the room, burning down the walls and spreading to the guards and workers of Arkham. Maybe he could make you cum so hard you’d melt a way for you both to leave this place.

It was another day, the day guards doing their rounds as they were ordered to do, nurses walking around to hand out medicine and food. You were sat in the corner, the one near the door so they could only see your feet if they glanced inside. Blood droplets hit the floor underneath you as you wiggled the bracelets again, the skin under them have long ago been rubbed raw and bleeding, your neck not being much better. A metallic click was heard, and the bracelet on your wrist lost its glow, and was pulled open and clunked to the floor.

You felt a warmth you had been deprived off for a long time return, just barely, and your eyes widened as you pulled at the other bracelet and it took gave way, getting dumped on the floor beside the other. Your fire was returning, you could feel it bubble under your skin and waking up like a bear in hibernation, now all you needed was the one on your neck. You summoned fire at your fingertips, and started wiggling at the closing mechanisms at your collar, the metal slowly giving way under the growing heat. Soon it was off with a few pulls, and on the floor.

An almost orgasmic moan escaped your mouth as your fire flooded back to you, your eyes rolling back and eyelids fluttering as the heat spread from your head to your toes. You were interrupted by someone hitting your cell door, telling you to quiet down. You glared at the metal door, knowing you could rip it right off its hinges now, but you would wait. Tonight, you would go to your Riddler first, then you two would leave.

When night fell and the nightguards arrived, they did their one round of the night and left to do whatever it was they did. Giddiness and arousal had been burning in you since your fire returned. Getting to your feet you looked out the glass, meeting the green eyes you had come to know so well. You shot him what could only be called an impish grin as fire flared in your hands, grabbing at the locking mechanism on your door which immediately started to melt. As Arkham had never planned on someone melting their locks, no alarms went off as you pulled open the metal door, staring into the now wide eyes of, you looked at the name as you neared, the one so tiny you normally couldn’t see it, Edward. Edward Nashton. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you grabbed at the lock that separated you, and let your fire burn and melt it.

As Edward saw the door open, he felt the love and arousal grow, as he could finally take in your entire being. Before he could open his mouth to talk, you were on him like a predator, forcing your lips on his as the fire disappeared from your hands. They were warm on his face as you clung to him, a loud moan escaping you as Edward dug his hands into your hips and pulled you close, a smirk pulling at his lips as he felt you grind against him.

Leaving Arkham could wait he decided, grabbing at you, and shoving you onto his bare bed. Edwards face was red, and he could feel sweat gathering on his forehead as he made quick word of pulling your shirt up to your chin and grabbing at the bright orange hospital sweats you wore, and pulling them down enough for your cock to spring out. You moaned as your cock met cold air, your length twitching as precum beaded at the tip and ran down it, the weeks long arousal meeting its peak.

Edward leant over you, pressing your lips together again making you throw your arms around his neck to pull him even closer, groaning as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. With some difficulty the both of you got out of your pants and boxers, Edward getting in between your knees to grind against you. You hissed as his cock ground against yours, another drop of pre escaping and landing on your stomach as Edward bit at your neck.

Edward sat back to admire you, watching as your chest lifted with your quick breaths, hands grasping at the scratchy sheets beneath you. Your cock was straining against your stomach, drooling a pool of precum as it gave small twitches every now and again. Edward giggled to himself as he started sucking at his fingers, there was no lube in Arkham so he had to work with what he had.

“Come on, put your leg over my shoulder” he said, grabbing your thigh to lift it up and over his shoulder. You went along, groaning slightly at the stretch. Edward leant forward, pressing another lust filled kiss against your neck as he pressed two fingers inside you, causing a faint moan to escape your throat. “Fuck… Edward…” you ground out, one of your hands releasing the bed beneath you to grasp at his hair, trying to pull him even closer.

Edward moaned into your skin as he pressed another finger inside, doing his best to stretch you as quickly as he could. You whimpered as he grazed your prostate, the man smirking to himself as he targeted the bundle of nerves. He quickly worked you up to a third finger, and you threw your head back in frustration as heat started to gather in your palms. Not enough to burn, but enough for Edward to feel it.

“Come on! I can take it, put it in” you growl, pulling at Edwards hair as he chuckled breathlessly, before he finally sat back on his knees. “Fine, fine. You’re so needy” he purred, grabbing at his length to push it inside. You felt your eyes flutter as he finally pushed inside you, moaning silently as he filled you up in ways you had only hoped to achieve.

Edward let you adjust, pushing up his glasses and brushing his sweat-soaked hair out of his face as you whimpered. “I’m okay, you can move” you whimpered, grabbing at his arms with both of your hands. A keen escaped you as he finally started moving, seemingly having run out of patience himself as he started thrusting hard and face, pulling both your knees over his hips for better access.

You moaned loudly as Edward thrusted inside you, a hand letting go of his arm to grab at the bed instead, in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Edward moaned, leaning down to kiss you again as noises kept escaping you. A loud moan was punched out of you when he brushed against your prostate. You could feel your cock straining, twitching as the need to cum started growing.

“Please. Please” you whimpered, tears gathering in your eyes as you looked up at Edward, who just smiled at you. “You sure?” he teased, giving another thrust that hit your prostate head on, causing a full body jolt to run through you. “Yes!” you cried out, throwing your head back as you felt the finish approaching.

Edward giggled almost derangedly as he started thrusting even faster, taking great pleasure in your noises. “Fine, then cum. I’m close too, lets do it together” he ground you, grabbing at your hips for better leverage. You felt your peak approached and moaned loudly, reaching up to grab at Edward as you came, white ropes shooting across your chest, as fire seemed to materialize on the floor around you, just enough to create smoke.

Edward moaned as he ground into you as he came, his vision almost blurring as he filled you up. You whimpered quietly as you felt the warmth inside you, the two of you both gasping to catch your breath. When you came to, you put of the fire you had started, huffing a breath as you pulled Edward down ontop of you so you could cuddle.

The two of you stayed there for a while, letting you both come fully down from your highs before he pulled out, groaning as he left the tightness of you. Edward giggled as he helped you pull your hands on, the man looking even more mischievous as you shot him a playful glare.

When you were both dressed again, you got to your feet. “Let’s get out of here, what do you say?” Edward asked. “We can do whatever we want, can’t we Hellbringer?” he giggled. You smirked, leaning over to give him a quick peck as you summoned your fire again. “We can. My names (Y/N) by the way. Might as well start using that if were gonna be together” you purr, using the flames to blow up the nearest wall to the outside.

You both laugh as you jump out, Edward shooting you a look as you limp slightly. You just shoot him a small glare “This is your fault you know” you huff, as the two of you lock hands and run off towards the city in the midst of the chaos. Lights flashing and alarms blaring had never been so romantic as it was now.

#male reader #edward nashton #riddler #dc #batman 2022 x male reader #edward nashton imagine #edward nashton headcanon #Edward nashton x male reader #riddler headcanon #riddler imagine #riddler x male reader #dc imagine #dc x male reader #dc headcanon #batman 2022 imagine #batman 2022 headcanon

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rev-wrath · 2 years

Text

Liar

Dick Grayson x Reader

Series Masterlist

Prompt: “Didn’t you say we were friends?” “I lied.”

Summary: Dick Grayson, a friend who has his back. On and off the field at any moment. Or so he thought.

Notes: Angst. Reader is male, he/him pronouns are used! 1.3k words. Tig comes from tiger who are apparently intelligent creatures!

Some genius he was. Then again this was Dick Grayson, born performer. He grew up performing and continued once he entered the vigilante lifestyle. It’s in his blood, it runs in his family. He’s a performer through and through.

Nearly a year ago he came into his life, months ago their night lives were revealed to each other. All those late nights, close calls, dinners, long conversations, led up to this.

Him, running for his life as he bleeds from a number of wounds. They’re all relatively shallow though. Somewhere Nightwing, Red Robin and Batman are chasing after him. He’s already winded from a few heavy hits to his torso, but he can’t stop. If he does he’s going straight to prison.

A batarang — or a wingding, he can’t tell — passes him, barely missing. It hardly matters though when he gets shot in the leg. None of them have guns. Only Red Hood uses guns. The only guns they use are… shit.

Throwing a knife in front of him as his claws come out he bends to swipe at the grappling line. Whoever got him is faster because he falls and starts being retracted backwards. Not letting it deter him he swipes again, this time being successful.

He hears someone swear. Not wasting a second he drops the second smoke bomb of the night, disappearing once more. Taking off further down the hall, careful to keep his sound to a minimum he takes a few random turns.

They thought this whole thing out. They probably worked this out for at least a week. Dick led him here, claiming there was a lead in this underground facility. Makes sense, nothing too out of the ordinary. The two wandered around the facility, looking for something, someone. They found someone alright. Red Robin and Batman coming from the shadows out of nowhere to ambush him. Dick joining them in the ambush.

Them saying what he did was wrong. Dick sometimes reminds him of that. That he could do good, that he did good, but sometimes he used his skills for the wrong people, hurting good or innocent people. That he messed up and people they personally knew had been hurt and needed help.

Tig, his alter ego and vigilante name, is just another vigilante. Yeah, maybe he works both sides but it’s what pays. Unlike the 3 people chasing him he didn’t start this with a shit ton of money. It’s the reason he started in the first place. Gotham is a rough place and it’s hard to leave when you have nothing and also owe people a few things. Trouble seemed to follow him, like most people in Gotham, so he welcomed it like a lover returning home.

Running past another hallway he could hear the slightest difference as someone started running faster. So he runs faster too, maybe some more distance he could drop another smoke bomb. Or use the single tranquilizer dart he had on him. Of course he had to run out of them this week.

Another pair of footsteps join them and he swears before dropping his last smoke bombs. The two behind him run faster. Why is this hallway so fucking long?

Risking a glance down he sees that there’s not a trail of blood quite yet as he still has the grappling hook in his leg and that’s currently stopping too much blood from escaping.

That’s another problem now. He can only go so long with a fucking grappling hook in his leg. Once again a sharp black object flies past him. The second one, however, doesn’t miss. Neither does the fucking body that slams into him.

It’s Dick. Because of course it is. They both fall down to the floor but Dick immediately grabs his arms, careful not to get close to his hands, to his claws. His legs straddling him does nothing to stop him from struggling.

(Y/N) growls. “Let me go, Grayson.”

“I could but B would catch you.” A pair of legs covered in black and grey enters his vision.

“Fuck both of you.” He spits. “Tim too.” Bruce bends down with a pair of handcuffs as Dick applies more pressure on his arms. “Just all of you.”

“Buy dinner first.” Dick says, working with Bruce to pull him up. This man has the audacity to joke him still?

“I did. I bought you dinner, I made you dinner, you bought me dinner.” His voice starts to pick up. “I thought we were friends. You said we were friends.”

“I lied.” He says it so simply. And why wouldn’t he? This past year has been a lie apparently. “We were never friends. I just had to gain your trust so I could gather evidence and keep tabs on you.”

There’s not a trace of the sweet boy who came over with his favorite food and a plethora of terrible puns to laugh at terrible shows with him. Or the caring boy who came over with soup when he got sick from too many rainy nights. Or the boy who cleaned his wounds and helped stitch him up. Certainly not the boy who had his back for the last 5 or so months, the boy who he daydreamed about for the last 2 months.

He narrows his eyes — not like they could see it — continuing to ignore the fact his heart has been ripped out of him. “And what stops me from telling the world that Bruce Wayne and his kids are Batman and co?”

“Because,” When did Tim get here? “your siblings are alive and we know where they are. We can help them.”

It was one of the reasons why they had to wait so long. The plan was for Dick to befriend (Y/N) because it was Dick Grayson, the sweet, caring, flirt, who wouldn’t let him in? Eventually Dick would be there at the right times and force (Y/N) to reveal himself as Tig, Dick would gather information and evidence as he kept track of him. Unknown to (Y/N) some of his plans had fallen out because Dick told Bruce and they would make sure it couldn’t go through.

What wasn’t in the plan was for (Y/N) to figure out that Dick was Nightwing. He quickly figured out nearly all of them after that. Then they had to have him open up to Dick over the months to find something to hold over (Y/N).

His head snaps over to Tim, eyes wide before narrowing again. “They’re dead. I watched them die. And if they were alive I could help them.”

“(Y/N), come on.” Dick’s voice is soft in his ear. It reminds him of quiet reassurances as he held him, or even comments on random things as they sat next to each other.

“Don’t use that voice on me. You fucking liar.”

“You come with us, get turned in, and we can help your siblings, you can see them again. You can’t help them before you serve out your sentence. Otherwise you’d just be putting them in danger.” Again, (Y/N)’s brain supplies.

He hangs his head. “I fucking hate you.” (Y/N) is thankful for the coverage on his face right now. Covering up all the emotions that don’t show in his voice, the tears in his eyes.

“I know.” Sucking in a breath he raises his head.

“If I find out that this is also a lie you’re all dead. Whether it’s by my hand or the villains of Gotham who will know who you are. And if you’re telling the truth and I find out you hurt them in any way then I will bring you your own personal hell.”

“We’ll be sure to remember that.” Bruce notes dryly, cape swaying as he leaves.

Dick follows him, pulling (Y/N) along, heading towards the exit. (Y/N) didn’t know. No one did. No one knew of Dick’s heartache. His foolishness for falling in love despite knowing what exactly was going to happen. Maybe he had some hope that he would switch sides. Or leave Gotham or disappear or something that wouldn’t lead to this. But no, none of that happened. Leaving two boys with hurting hearts.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #dick grayson #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson imagine #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader #nightwing imagine #Nightwing imagines #tim drake #red robin #bruce wayne #batman #dc #read reed

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starsscribble · 3 years

Text

Stick Shift

Summary: Rick thinks he freeing Y/n. Y/n thinks she's the problem.

Tags: Angst, No comfort, Age Difference, Reader is 25 Rick is in in 40.

A/n: This was when I was on my Walking Dead kick. Finally got it edited.

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

You pulled into the post-apocalyptic suburbs; in a separate car than what Glenn and you left in. Your earlier pride of find and driving said care was gone. Now in it place was a numb type of sadness. It was stupid. You know that. Getting worked up over the fact you were driving a stick shift. All on your own. But Rick. Your boyfriend; ex-boyfriend now. He had been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift. Before Virginia. When the group was still in the prison. When you were both still happy.

“Come on,” his southern drawl was clear as day. You let out a puff of air. Head pushing against the headrest. “This was your idea. You gotta confess something.” You started to hate that you suggested this game, but the drive was so damn long. You didn’t have the radio to help distract you. No, it was just you, Rick, and a long stretch of Georgia backroad. The former sheriff’s right hand shifted off the steering wheel. Moving carefully as not to catch your attention. You were still racking your brain for a secret to tell. Then a yelp left your mouth. You jumped in your seat making the older man laugh. Hand retreated to the wheel.

“That’s what you get for taking so long pumpkin.” He grinned; eyes shifted from the road onto you. A hint of playfulness in those ocean blue eyes.

“I was thinking of something!” You shot back making him chuckle before looking back to the road.

“There’s gotta be something you have never told anyone.”

“Well,” you hummed. Readjusting in your seat. “I don’t know if this would count because I’ve never told this to anyone in the group.”

“I’ll count it.” He glances at you quickly, still smiling. Which makes you smile.

“Alright. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” You feel the jerk was the car spot. Rick looked at you as if you just told him the undead are all gone. Eye full of disbelief.

“You’re joking.” He speaks after a beat and you shake your head. Nope, you couldn’t drive a stick to save your life. And with how the world was it just might. Rick took off his seatbelt as you questioned just what he was doing. “I’m gonna teach you how to drive stick. You might need it.”

“We are on a run.”

“Yep and this is the perfect time. Now get into the driver’s seat.”

Slowly you parked next to Glenn. Killing the engine you got out as Glenn moved over to your vehicle. He smiled at you. Today was a good day. Got more food, medicine, and another car. The possibilities for cars were endless. Used for parts. Set up at protection. Used as traps. Daryl Dixon the town resident mechanic would have a field day with this car.

“I’m gonna check in with Rick,” Glenn says. You see him playing with his wedding band. Maggie’s baby bump had started to show and Glenn didn’t like being away for too long. Patting his shoulder you speak.

“Go see Maggie and your baby.” You slammed the driver’s side door shut. The dark-haired man stares at you. Willing to argue with you on this.

“Really it’s-” You raised your hand stopping him.

“If you don’t go check up on Maggie. I will and I’ll tell her how you screamed like a girl.” His eyes widen at the threat.

“I didn’t know a group of bats would be in there!” He defended himself only making you grin at him. You both head away from the parking area. Back towards the stretch of cookie-cutter homes. You nudge his shoulder with yours.

“First it’s a colony of bats. Second, not only was the scream funny, so was your face.” You teased him. Glenn shoved your shoulder playfully. Before mumbling that he was going to check in with his wife. Leaving you with the task of checking in with the community’s newly appointed leader Rick.

Jogging onto his porch you knocked on the door. Eyes looking everywhere but the door until it opened. Sadly it wasn’t the male you were looking for. Carl greeted you with a soft smile. The bandages that once covered his right eye socket had been replaced with a custom-made eyepatch.

“Ahoy captain.” You tease the teenager who rolled his remaining eye. “Your dad here? Just checking in since Glenn and I got back.”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Carl tells you, making you nodded. “When I see him…” He trails off because he knows you will just hunt his dad down. “I don’t know where he is.” He's lying. You know it. He knows that you know. But you just nod and quickly thank him. Tell him to kiss his sister for you before turning off the porch.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

You know where Rick Grimes is. Feet carrying you down the still blood-stained street. Streets that just weeks ago were covered with the undead. You wave kindly to the people passing by. It is a mix of your group, older residents, and new people. You still feel out of place. Maybe you always will. Maybe you won't. You wonder quietly to yourself. A nice distraction. Because if you thought about where you were going. Where you had to go. You might just break. So you let your mind wander. Let your feet carry you to the destination. Everything seemed to be on autopilot. Until your using the knocker of the baby blue house. Her house.

“We should end this,” Rick says matter-of-factly. You stopped brushing your hair to look at him. He’s not facing you. Back facing you as he pulled his jeans on.

“What?” Maybe you misheard him. Maybe it was your ear playing a trick on you. Because Rick couldn’t be breaking up with you right now.

“We should break up.” He rephrases. The words take the air from your lungs. Your mouth opened to say words that your mind can’t even come up with. The silence in the room grew by the seconds. It finally became too much for the man as he turned to face you. Jeans zipped up but not buttoned. Belt lay next to his shirt on the bed but his eyes fell on you instead.

“Say something.” He requested of you softly. That same soft voice that he used when he said he loved you. Tears that formed in your eyes finally fell as you blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Before you looked him in the eyes.

“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Getting shot was nothing compared to your question to him. Because he knew you honestly thought you did something wrong. You always doubted yourself. But you were perfect. So goddamn perfect. And amazing. And young.

“No sweetheart. It’s just…” He stops himself from going over to embrace you. Tell you to forget about it. Because this has to happen. You're 24. His 39. Even if the group. His and your family were ok with it. He heard the whispers around town. The other weren’t as supportive.

“I think we should end this. We had an amazing run. And you're young. You’re gonna find someone else that will love you more than I ever could.” He breaks his own heart with his words. Because he doesn’t want you to find someone else. He wants to be with you until the end. When and where ever the end was. But you deserve better. You deserve someone around your age. Not an old man with two children like him.

“I…” you stare at him. Cheeks strained with tears he caused. “I don’t want someone else.” You grab the comforter. It gets balled up as you tighten your grip on the fabric. Your mind running over everything you had done in the last weeks to get to the point. You had snapped at him a few days back because of Jessie Anderson. The blonde woman in her thirties that lived up the street. You didn’t hear what they were talking but her body language told you everything. She was flirting with Rick. And either he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Doubt played in your mind the whole day after seeing the interaction. Because Jessie was around Rick’s age. And you weren’t. You didn’t really have any life experience before the world ended. So it made sense if Rick preferred a woman his own age. As opposed to you, a 24-year-old kid in his eyes.

“I can get you a brownstone to stay in.” He said. Brushing off your comment. Which broke your heart even more.

The door opened showing the blonde that lived there. A smile and questioning look on her face.

“Is Rick here?” You asked, watching as she turned her head and yelling the man’s name into the home. He comes out from the kitchen; questioning who it was. The question dying in his throat when he saw it was you. Jessie excused herself leaving you and Rick alone. The former sheriff stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. Which you return.

“Just came to tell you Glenn and I are back.”

“Right,” he nods. “You guys went on a run. Get anything good?” You nodded before listing off some of the supplies you got. Including the stick shift car. You heard him chuckle. Looking into his eyes you saw that same playfulness as the day he first forced you to drive a stick.

“You didn’t flood the engine this time right?” He teased and you scoffed, punching him in the shoulder.

“I was amazing.” You boasted. The older man stared at you and you swear you heard a quiet. ‘Ya, you are.’

“You don’t mind if I asked Glenn?” You roll your eyes but smile.

“Go ahead. He's gonna tell you the same thing.” He nodded. Hand going on his hips. You watch as he licks his lips. Your breath hitching as you feel your stomach twisting in knots. “I should go. Need a shower desperately.” You don’t wait for him to say goodbye or stop you. You're off the porch and down the road heading home in a few steps.

And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

Maggie can’t drink. But that doesn’t mean you and Sasha can’t. Sasha, Abraham, and Rosita had come back later in the day from another run. They had been the unlucky ones not finding much of anything. But Sasha apparently found some top-tier booze in a rundown bar. The trio split it up between them. So here you were. Snacking on fresh strawberries drinking booze that would have been at least $100 for a bottle; straight out of the bottle. The three of you resting against the metal wall that protected the town from the nasty world outside.

“So,” Maggie started as she threw a strawberry stem into a bowl filled with them. “Heard someone talk with Rick.” Sasha and her eyes went to you as you grabbed the glass bottle of auburn liquid. Taking a healthy swig you felt the burn as it went down. You were far too sober to be talking about this. Talking about him. Because no one in the group knew why you guys ended it. Just one day you were a happy couple and the next you were packing up and moving into your own brownstone. Sasha took the bottle from you, making you whine. As you tried to reach for it but the former firefighter held it out of reach. Her hand on your chest also keeping you away from it.

“You can get some when you tell us what happened.” She landed down the rule and it makes you groan as you move to lay against the wall. You don't want to talk about it. You just want to wallow and let the scar form on your heart in peace.

A crack of thunder sends the trio onto the back porch of Maggie’s home. Lucky for you guys because moments after; the dark clouds opened up letting down heavy droplets that ping off the porch’s roof. Sasha is distracted by the rain. Asking Maggie if the crops will be ok. Allowing you to snatch the bottle from her hand and take another big glug. The bottle is half gone now. And honestly so are you. The alcohol works fast as your brain starts to go fuzzy. Sasha takes the bottle back slightly annoyed. But it clear the break-up has been hard. So she lets it go.

“You got your drink.” She says putting the cap back on and sitting it to the side out of your reach. “Now tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know.” You sob. You weren’t normally an emotional drunk. But with everything going on with Rick. Tonight you were.

And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

Maggie held you as you drunkenly cried. Sasha joined you on the other side, rubbing your back. You finally opened up about your breakup with Rick a month ago. You weren’t sure how much they understood because of the loud rain and your blubbering. But either way, they consoled you. Trying to help the only way they could. And the only way they knew how. Simply being there. Because for a month you kept this end. Kept this to yourself. So those outside of the group saw you were fine. The break-up didn’t seem to affect you. You carried on with work. Talked with Rick when it was needed. You acted fine.

But the group knew it. Of course, they knew. It was an act. Because they saw how you were breaking. How you had a longing in your eyes when the cowboy boots-wearing man walked by. The smile that rarely reached your lips. You were faking so much of your joy because your heart was broken.

“I just don’t get how he is so ok. Did I mean nothing?” The two women share a look at your question. Because they also know that Rick isn’t ok. Like you, he is acting. Because he is the leader and can’t break down. But the man isn’t ok. They don’t say that. Rick was the one that ended it. That was on him.

“I don’t know,” Maggie says softly as you rest your head onto her shoulder. “I wish I had the answer for you. But only Rick does.”

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

The street lights are now on. It’s still raining when you tell Maggie you were going home. Sasha and her try to get you to stay the night. Or at least until the rain lets up. But the rain isn't letting up. It was so heavy you could barely see a few steps in front of you. But you step off the back porch and disappear down the alleyway of the lined-up homes. You walk. Just walk because you don’t want to go home just yet. If you go home you’ll be lonely. And you don’t want that. Because for a month you have been lonely in that damn brownstone. Rick wasn’t lonely. He was with Jessie. His arms wrapped around her body. Damn your brain. Just because you didn’t want to be lonely didn’t mean you wanted to think about them together.

The rain started to ease up as you found yourself passing Rick’s house. The lights upstairs were on. As you quickly looked away from the cookie-cutter home. A shiver ran through you and shoved your hands into your soaked jean pockets. Maybe now was a good time to head home. You haven’t even turned when you heard your name being shouted over the rain. Looking back at Rick’s home you see him rushing off the porch and over to you. His dark brown jacket acting as an umbrella. He puts it mostly over you shielding you from the rain.

“What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick.” He frets because he knows how likely that is. Because after the rainstorm when the group was on the trek through Virginia you had gotten sick. “Come on.” He orders and you walk with him toward his house.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

You smile at him lightly as he places a cup of peppermint tea in your hand; you're favorite. You're in one of his white t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair, no longer wet from the rain but a hot shower. The alcohol is still in your system. How much you don’t know.

“What were you doing walking in the rain?” He questioned taking the seat next to you. His own cup of tea in his hand.

“Was drinking with Sasha and Maggie.” You look towards him as his eyebrows knit together as the mention of Maggie and drinking. “Maggie was moderating us. She wasn’t drinking, come on. She knows better.” Rick nods bowing his head because he does know better to think that about Maggie. But his time as a cop taught him that some people just don’t care. Not about themselves. Not about others. And sure as hell not about kids.

“Where did you get the booze from? Daryl?” You snort at him before blowing on your tea taking a careful sip. Sitting the cup down you look back towards him.

“I ain’t no rat officer.” He chuckles. You both do. A little inside joke between you both. And then the silence fell. The awkward uncertain silence of two people who didn’t know what to say next. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare into the tea. Rain still going strong outside, trapping on the roof of your former home. Rick shifts beside you clearing his throat.

“Judy trying to walk.” It makes you smile a bit.

“That’s good. Soon she’ll be running over you and Carl.” The older man chuckles nodding in agreement but you don’t see it. Head still bowed. Turning your mug as you watch the tea shift with each motion.

“Seeing anyone?” He was trying to keep the conversation going. But there had to be another question to ask that wasn’t this. You still answer it by shaking your head.

“No. But you seemed to have moved on.” It has some bite to you. You're bitter. Of course, you are. The man you were in love with. Seemed to easily move on after he ended it. You lift the ceramic mug and take a huge glug of your tea. The warmth fills you but it’s not enough.

“Ya. Jessie, she’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Jessie is ok. Good to have around. Doesn’t make him feel as empty. But she is just not you. All her touches. All her kisses. They feel off and he knows why. Because the hands touching him aren’t yours. Neither are the lips that kiss him. But Rick is stubborn. Even if it hurts you both, he knows you need better. You deserve the world and he just can’t give it to you.

“She’s perfect.” You looked at him. Sadness, rooted so deeply in your eyes. He wants to pull you into him. Tell you that he is sorry. That he will end it with Jessie. Come back to you. And try to make all of this right. But he already drew his line in the sand and he won’t cross it. Because the moment he touches you he knows it will be his undoing.

“She has her flaws. No one is perfect.” Except for you. He wants to add. He hears a quiet 'ya' then it silence once again.

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe

You were gone when Rick woke up. His clothes lay on the guest bed since you were dried. He wondered just when you left. He wondered if you slept at all. Because he didn’t. Knowing you were in the house but not in his arms. He was restless the whole night. He sighs. Picking clothes up. It was sad that he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time. But it most likely was going to be the only time. Because how often are you going to walk in the rain drunk? He takes the clothes to the laundry room. Before he throws the shirt in the basket he lifts it to his nose. Inhaling the flowery body wash scent from when you shower last night. You must found where he hid the body wash you left behind.

“Hey, dad!” Carl called out from the kitchen forcing Rick to dump the clothes in the basket. Entering the kitchen he smiled at his son. Judith was already in her high chair waiting for breakfast. Carl stood at the counter. The box of peppermint tea in his hands. Shit. He meant to put that up. Carl’s eye shifts from the box towards the sink. Where the mugs from last night sat unwashed. Then the young man turns to his father.

“Y/n was here wasn’t she?” He questioned but it was really a statement. It is the only reason for this tea to be out with two mugs in the sink.

“Ya,” He replied, moving towards his son and taking the box of tea from his hand. The young man sighed watching his father place the tea on a high shelf so only he could get to it.

“Why?” Carl asked.

“It was raining-”

“No,” he cut his father off. “Why did you break up with her?”

“Carl,” Rick sighed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t want to have this conversation with Daryl or Michonne. He sure as hell didn’t want it with his son. But like Rick the young survivor was stubborn. He stepped into his father's past every time he tried to move around him.

“Carl,” Rick warns but the boy isn’t back down.

“No. You were happy with Y/n. Happier than I have ever seen you. Even with mom. Even before all of this.” The boy gestures at nothing but Rick knows what he means by that. Because he didn’t want to admit it. But his and Lori’s relationship was at rock bottom before the world ended.

“So why? What happened?” Carl pressed, making Rick sigh. He wondered. Only for a second. If Michonne had put Carl up to his. But he shook that from his head. Michonne won’t do that. This is purely Carl. Because Carl loves you so much. The both of you had apparently clicked before Rick had gotten to the quarry. And that bond only grew over time.

“It’s complicated, Carl. Now please,” Rick needed him to down the subject. And the young boy seemed to understand but is still pissed. He turns from his father. Feet carrying the young boy towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out.

“Out!” And the slamming door let Rick know that Carl was gone. He sighed.

He knew everyone would move on. You would. Carl would. He would. In the far future, all of this will be just a bad memory. But right now. In the present, it hurt so fucking bad. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sucked in air. He did it to himself. He deserved this pain. And if he could he would take your pain. Allow you to be happy. To find love in someone else better than him. Because you're one of the good things in this ugly world.

I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

#walking dead #walking dead imagine #walking dead x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes angst

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thesunicarusfellfor · 3 years

Note

Hello!! Do you think you could do a part 2 of my request? An maybe a lil bit of angst with fluff where the reader comes to the mansion crying because someone hurt them?( Maybe techno or dream? Possibly jack manifold? 👀) Hopefully that's ok I just love the way you write it's so good plus it makes my day whever I read :D hopefully your day or evening is going good

imhereforfan-fic : Omg can you do another yandere tubbo x reader x yandere ranboo romantic relationship please? Maybe where they get kidnapped by the dream team? Oh and adding on to my request can it also have some cuddling towards the end haha I’m touch starved and crap lol but can it a full length fic Okay okay okay. So. I'm so damn happy people loved this fic and I got two requests that I can easily add together. I hope neither of you minds too much having your requests mixed together ^^ I deadass wanna cry from how many positive reviews I've received from Too Sweet. ALSO. I'm a little wary of making romantic fics for characters Ranboo and Tubbo so I'm gonna play with the platonic marriage, just making it really fluffy and affectionate. PS: THIS ISNT AS FLUFFY AS I WANTED IT TO BE SOOOO OOOOPS. AAAAND. TOMMY ONLY TOOK ONE OF DREAM'S LIVES IN THE FINAL DISC WAR

LIKELY TO HAVE MANY ERRORS DUE TO BAD WIFI AND LACK OF SLEEP TW: Knives (+injuries that come from knives), kidnapping, taking of canon lives, Dream being power-hungry, minor panic attack, referenced strangulation.

Part One

Too Sweet (For This World) Yandere!C!Ranboo x F!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Part 2

A few months had passed since you had moved into the mansion and some... How ended up involved in Ranboo and Tubbo's marriage, as well as being Michael's mother. At first, you were quite unsure about being a wife or a mother, but you saw how happy you had made the three boys and realized how happy they made you in return. In the beginning, neither of them wanted you leaving the mansion much without either of them, but then Ranboo started to notice small and minor declines in your physical and mental health. This caused him to panic and study your symptoms for a few days straight, to the point where you didn't see him once and you were genuinely scared he had lost his canon lives to the point where you kept checking your right wrist constantly for the message confirming Ranboo's death. But thankfully you never got it. When he had figured out what was causing your health to be less than absolutely perfect, he had spoken to Tubbo about letting you out of your room more often and getting you the sunlight you needed. It took a little bit to convince him, but once the goat hybrid learned that you could, or even would, become a lot sicker, he decided to allow you to go outside without them, as long as you stayed within Snowchester. You met a man the first few days you were out, who wore white glasses with blue and red lenses, and a headset with a mic, although he ran away from you the second you introduced yourself as Ranboo and Tubbo's (platonic) wife. Foolish had quickly become your friend around the same time though, which caused Tubbo and Ranboo to be a little unsure because of how he made you laugh and smile, but they noticed how you always kept him at arm's length with friendship and almost physically. Sure you didn't mind too much when he gave you a friendly side hug or pat on the head etc, but you were never really the one to initiate the contact unless you had to. Thankfully he didn't mind your awkwardness around strangers, trust issues, or lack of social exposure, so Ranboo and Tubbo didn't have to threaten a literal god. After saying goodbye to Michael for the day and putting him down for his nap, you got dressed into something more appropriate for travelling the snowy lands that Tubbo owned. Ranboo had to go to a Syndicate meeting, and Tubbo was working more on some buildings around Snowchester, saying something about prepping things to attack Dream who apparently escaped from prison? Not sure could've been rumoured or could be true? You had no clue honestly. You trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to protect you. The crackling of a few pine branches caused you to lift your eyes from the icy water below to turn your head. Walking out of the bushes were three men and one woman, pushing their way through the branches decorated with freshly fallen snow. One of the men was your crown-wearing platonic husband, although dressed up in an outfit you had never seen before, although not too far off from his normal get-up. Ranboo had a long black cape with golden edges and a high collar, held up together by a golden chain. His vest was now a deep royal purple with an eye of ender pin clasped on his tie, and his pants were half purple half black with golden designs sewn in. Beside him was a short female with shoulder-length pink hair and nicely done dark purple and black makeup. Her outfit consisted of a thick and warm lavender sweater with dark purple pants. On her hip was an enchanted netherite sword with a diamond-encrusted handle. You were quick to recognize her as Niki Nihachu, the baker who had lived in L'Manberg, but you hadn't heard much of her since the Pogtopia war. Off to the side, was a man you recognized easily as you had only seen him a few days ago when Ranboo invited him to see Michael, Philza Minecraft. His outfit wasn't too different from what he used to wear when he was a resident in the country, except for the black and gold cape and a black mask covering the bottom of his face. Then... The sight of the final male was the one to make you visibly react. A tall and buff male with a golden encrusted netherite

chest plate and a velvet red cape with gold accents as well. There was a rather majestic crown on top of his long braided pink hair and his dark eyes were narrowed behind a set of cracked glasses... His gaze pointing directly at you. Technoblade. Giving a shaky gasp, you stood up from your spot on the edge of the dock and turned to face the visitors. "Where's Tubbo," Techno growled softly, watching as you visibly trembled under his gaze. "Techno, mate. You're scarin' the hell outta her." Phil put his hand on his middle son's shoulder before stepping in front of him, blocking him from your gaze. "Hey, (Y/n), can you tell us where Tubbo is? We just have to ask him some things." "I'm here." An almost unfamiliar voice came from beside you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. When you looked over, you saw the goat hybrid with the coldest look you had seen him wear yet. "(Y/n), please, head into the mansion." Without another glance at the piglin hybrid, you quickly scurried towards the wooden mansion, faintly hearing the worried buzzing noises of your enderman husband in the distance before you slammed the large door shut. You almost ran towards your's or Michael's room in the basement, but then realized if any of them saw you heading down there, Michael's safety could be compromised. So, you quietly sat down in the living room and curled up on the couch, trying to keep your breathing stable as you fought to keep your mind off of the fact that the man who had almost killed you was standing a few feet outside the door of your home. You pinched your eyes shut and wrapped your arms around yourself, trying your best to simulate the hugs you would usually receive from your platonic husbands after a nightmare or a panic attack. ".../n)." "../n)!" "...(Y/n)!" With a terrified gasp, you flung your arms above your head to shield yourself from any oncoming attacker but only felt a gentle touch on your knee. It took a few seconds to muster up your courage, but you slowly brought your arms down and opened your eyes to come face to face with Tubbo, who immediately sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. After an hour or so with your face buried into Tubbo's shoulder, you felt another pair of arms wrap around you, causing you to look up and see Ranboo burying his face into your hair, "I'm so sorry... So sorry... I didn't think they would come to Snowchester..." You murmured a small, "it's okay," to him as you sat up a bit to return the hug for a few moments. Tubbo got up, murmuring something about going to get you a snack and a glass of water, knowing you must've been hungry or thirsty from panicking. After a few moments, Ranboo let go of you and briefly explained that Phil had given him some potions to help Michael adapt to the overworld, and he needed to give them to him. He rested his forehead against yours affectionately for a few seconds before turning towards the bookshelf and walking down the set of hidden stairs after opening the secret door. Once he shut it, you shuddered and rubbed your arms to get rid of the cold chill that had suddenly washed over you. Frowning slightly, you looked around for the source of the sudden cold, only to freeze as you saw the door cracked open, allowing the snow and cold wind to slip in. Ranboo wouldn't have left the door open... "Sorry kid." A deep and growly voice came from behind you, causing you to spin around and come face to face with Technoblade. The tall tusked male watched your expression go from confusion to horror in less than seconds, "It's nothing personal. Really. I just got a favour to pay off." A scream of terror escaped your lips before everything went black. "Hey, Michael!" Ranboo crouched down to greet the small zombie piglin child as he held a few potions of varying colours in his long arms, he set them and a thermos filled with a hot drink down on the table. "I got some new drinks for you to try today! Philza made them a little extra sweeter than last time." The small child squealed and made small tippy tap noises with his

hooves against the quartz flooring before he sat on the chair. He watched as his tall father sorted through the bottles carefully before uncorking one of the light red ones. Before he could pick up the small pipette, there was an almost unearthly shriek that came from the top of the stairs. "(Y/n)!" Ranboo screamed, unintentionally startling Michael, but that wasn't his main concern as he sprinted out the door then teleporting up the stairs and pushing the bookshelf door with his sword drawn and gleaming with enchantments. In his peripheral vision, he saw Tubbo dash out of the kitchen with his axe drawn and bloodlust in his eyes. Glancing around, the only thing the two men spotted was moonlight and snow spilling through the open door. Tubbo ran out without a second thought and screamed your name at the top of his lungs as he spun around, searching for any sort of sign that would give away your location. Ranboo decided to start looking around the mansion, even though part of him grasped that you wouldn't have screamed without reason. "She's gone..." Tubbo whispered, standing in the doorway, the moonlight creating a dark shadow over his wide eyes. "Footprints are leading to and away from the house, but they disappear on the docks..." Ranboo stayed still, a violent growling noise bubbling up in his throat before escaping past his lips as both his eyes turned purple. He threw his head back and took a breath to scream all his anger out, but froze upon hearing sad whimpering. He turned his head and saw Michael standing at the top of the hidden stairs, whimpering and shaking quite violently. There was part of Ranboo that refused to move, but his brain seemed to flick onto autopilot as he walked over to the child and picked him up. "Sorry... Michael... Something happened..." "Mama?" "...Mama... Won't be home for a while..." "Wake up!" A voice growled before something sharply came in contact with your cheek, shaking you awake. Your eyes shot open and came into contact with... A smiley face? "Aha... Sleeping Beauty graces us with her gaze. It's about damn time." A harsh grip landed on your jaw, making you realize there was a dull throbbing pain in your head. "Huh... Dre... Dream..?" You whispered, barely recognizing the white mask that helped destroy your home and turn it into nothing but a crater. "W-What?" His mask was lifted up enough to the point where you could see his mouth curved up into a sadistic smile. "You, my darling pawn, are just the piece I needed to make life easier for me... I just need to raise the stakes enough for them to be... Well... Stakes. I'm sure you understand." You went to move your hand to slap the gloved hand away from your face, only to give a small whine of pain as you felt a tight pinching on your wrists, making you realize that they were shackled together and likely chained to a wall. "What are you talking about you psychop- Ah!" He tightened his grip on your face to the point where you knew there would eventually be dark bruising. "I don't think you're in a position to be calling the king any names, pawn." Screams and shrieks of pain bounced off of the blank stone walls as the two people standing outside of the door put their heads down with their eyes closed. "You still sure he's doing the right thing, George? Are you still sure... He's the good guy in this story?" "You know better than to question him, Nick." "Don't call me that."

(Y/n) (L/n) was slain by Dream using Nightmare. Life: 2/3 (Y/n) (L/n) suffocated while trying to fend off Dream. Life: 1/3

"He just took two of an innocent woman's three lives. Just to use her as a hostage to make Tubbo hand over the nukes and to force Ranboo to follow his orders... He's a stranger, George. This isn't Dream anymore... Don't be stupid." Sapnap lowered his right arm that he read the messages off of and looked in the direction of his former best friend. The screams of agony were almost haunting as they echoed through Snowchester as silence fell down upon the entire Dream SMP. Shock slipped through the veins of everyone who read the message that appeared on their right wrists. - "I'm gonna kill him..." "I'm going to activate the nukes..." - "Techno... What did you do." "I owed him a favour. What he does after that is none of my business." - "...Isn't that Tubbo and Ranboo's wife?" "Yeah... She was my friend..." - "Tubbo's definitely not happy about this..." - "Ah... Atta girl..." Dream murmured in a mock soothing voice as he gently dragged his knife threateningly along your cheek. "Y'know... You would look better... With a smile." He leaned closer to you, the drawn-on eyes of his mask staring into your dull and tear-filled eyes as a stinging pain came from the corner of your lips. "Sh, sh, Relax... They're just shallow cuts, they won't even leave a scar. I'm not a monster." Time had passed quickly, but also excruciatingly slowly. You had no clue how long you had been down here, or how long you had been dead in between respawns. Dream just didn't seem to be leaving you alone. "Now..." He flipped the switchblade closed and threw it in his pocket before tremours shook the earth below and around you. "What the fUCK?!" He growled deeply before the door slammed open. "How did they even find this place!?" The door was blown off its hinges with a loud bang, causing Dream to duck out of the way of the flying piece of scrap. Light flooded into the room as you shut your eyes tightly, your ears ringing from the explosion. Once your eyes got a little bit adjusted, you opened them and saw five figures in the newly widened doorway. "Let's just say... It was an anonymous tip." "Sapnap?! You dare betray me?!" The black-haired male fell silent as he turned around and walked out, putting his hand on the shoulder of the tallest silhouette in the doorway as he walked by. Once you got completely used to the new light, you began to recognize the figures. Tommy, Tubbo, Foolish, and Ranboo. Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo immediately ran forward and started a barrage of attacks on the masked psychopath while Foolish ran over and began to work on the chains binding you to the chair. After getting them off of you, he silently picked you up as you turned your head to look at the blond, brunet and monochrome boys. Dream's mask got knocked off and was thrown across the room as he was pinned below a growling Ranboo, whose skin looked almost purely black from your angle. Tommy was off to the side, rummaging through Dream's equipment, he already got his revenge when Dream was put into prison, this was Ranboo and Tubbo's revenge now.

"̷̛̲̪͝Ỳ̵̧̖͒̉o̸̟̔̆û̶̩̟̍͊'̸̧̺̎̉ṟ̷̰͘ế̴͍̰̎ ̶̤͆̎̒g̶̭̋̇o̸͍̐͑i̸̼̟̾ņ̷͊̈́̈́ĝ̷̰̤̈́ ̵̘̉t̵͖͠ȯ̸͎ ̴͎̐̈́r̸̰͙̾̑͝e̸͚͌͑g̴̛̗̦͑ř̷̳̳̱e̵̲̿̕ṫ̶̨͓͗ ̷̢͊E̷̬̪͒͊͂V̷̟̒͝Ë̸̜R̷͐̄̏ͅ ̶̲̟̤͗͋t̴̝̎o̵̖̐ư̴̞̾̇c̶̡̙̐h̵̹̜̣̒͂̂į̴̙̤͠n̴̤̼̻̅̚ǧ̵̹̙̌͜ ̵̥̞̏m̶̱̳̦͗̌y̴̱̮͒̒̄ ̶̮̈͑͆f̸͉̽̄à̵̹͠m̵͕̓̅͋í̸͇̩͔̿l̷̰̫̳͗͑y̸̡͌̊́.̶͓̇͝"̸̡͆ ("You're going to regret EVER touching my family.") Ranboo hissed lowly before he and Tubbo began applying weight to the sword pressed against the speedrunner's chest. You shut your eyes tightly for a moment before you felt a bottle press into your hands, causing you to re-open your eyes to see Foolish trying to hand you a healing potion. You eagerly took a small sip from it, feeling the small slices on your cheeks form back together and the pain from the bruises around your neck vanishing completely.

Dream was slain by Ranboo and Tubbo using Ranord

There was a clattering noise before two sets of footsteps running in your direction. Slowly tilting your head in their direction, you saw Tubbo with dark bags under his eyes and Ranboo with plenty more scars on his cheeks from tears. You were pulled from Foolish's arms and brought down to sitting on Tubbo's and Ranboo's laps, their arms completely wrapped around you. The goat hybrid was nuzzled under your chin while the enderman's face was buried in your hair. "We should have come sooner..." "We shouldn't have even left you alone in the mansion..." "I'm sorry... I should have never left the manor..."

#tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #yandere ranboo x reader #mcyt x reader #yandere mcyt x reader #mcyt #ranboolive #ranboo #tubbo #dream smp #dsmp #ranboo dsmp #ranboo dreamsmp #tubbo dsmp #tubbo dreamsmp #tubbo mcyt #ranboo mcyt

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wackybuddiemewbs · 2 years

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Buddie Moodboard - The Man in the Iron Mask AU

AKA: What if we took that famous story, buddiefied it, and then threw in a steampunk aesthetic because why the everloving fuck not? So yeah, why the everloving fuck not? Coz, y'know, steampunk.

Buck doesn't know what life is supposed to hold for him. Did it ever hold anything for him? Or was he always only just a lost cause? He doesn't remember. All he knows are the measures of his cell and how much he'd love to see the moon without the mask separating him from the outside world, from seeing it with his own eyes.

That is until confession time comes around – but the Father usually taking their confessions turns out to be sick. So a young priest is sent in. And while Buck readies himself to confess to all the crimes he doesn't know he committed but apparently did, the young Father has a different idea:

He wants to get him out of prison, away from this place, and out of that mask.

And before Buck knows what's happening, he is in the clouds, just a little closer to the moon, inside a zeppelin operated by the priest's friends.

Just that the man is not a priest. And his friends are certainly no clergy either. As it turns out, they are part of the Resistance set on overthrowing the current Baron, a man by name Chase Mackey. Not that Buck would know. Politics are nothing the guards would discuss with him. Or anything, really.

And after all those year, the helmet finally comes off. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Buck is sucking in fresh air, he can look at the sky, and there is no glass, no metal, nothing.

Though there is also a lot of something ahead of him, all that actually lies behind him: As it turns out, they know who he is, even though Buck does not. They know his actual name is Evan Buckley. They know that his parents were the late Baron and Baroness. They know that he was hidden from the public, raised in the countryside by a maid. That he had a brother for whom he was hidden. That he had a sister, too, though no one knows where she is after she ran away.

And most importantly, that Chase Mackey was the one who had him abducted from the countryside, imprisoned, and hidden behind the mask that has been his sad companion for all those years.

Buck doesn't know whether to cry our laugh when the people who got him out tell him that they want to overthrow the current Baron and put him into his “rightful” position as heir.

After all, who is he?

For most of his life, Buck only ever knew the measures of his prison cell. So much so that he forgot most of what happened before. For most of his life, he was only the man in the mask. No one. No one who was missed. No one who was remembered. No one who was loved.

Bobby, Chimney, Hen, and Eddie do their best to convince Buck not just of the merits of their plan but the necessity of their act. The Baron is no less than a tyrant set on seizing power and resources from the people he rules. And the upcoming masquerade ball may be their only chance to set the record straight at long last.

Thankfully, Buck warms up to them soon enough, not just because they saved him but because he enjoys their company. Particularly Eddie and his son Christopher soon have a huge space inside the young man's heart unsure of his place in the world.

Though Eddie dares to hope that by showing that he has a place with them, Buck can get accustomed to the idea of putting Chase Mackey in his place after all this time.

It isn't long until Buck is due a life-changing decision on whether he wants to join the Resistance and seize his privilege as the only living male heir to the Baron and Baroness. Though Buck finds that decision impossibly harder the more he gets a taste of a free and happy life with his friends, with Christopher, with Eddie.

Because the way he sees it, a palace, no matter how luxurious it may be, is still only just a cage. And Buck doesn't want to be in a cage ever again. Then again, so many people are suffering, are in a different kind of cage, because of the Baron – including the people he cares about more than anything in the world.

So what is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to do with this life he was given back? How can he make it matter? And how much does he have to sacrifice for the sake of a greater purpose?

Find more moodboards here.

#buddie #buck x eddie #eddie x buck #evan buckley #eddie diaz #evan buck buckley #evan buckley x eddie diaz #eddie diaz x evan buckley #buddie au #fanfic #in smol #real smol #just vibin with the aesthetic #coz STEAMPUNK MKAY

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daisymydaisy · 3 years

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Elain seer predictions

(This post will include all the visions elain had in acowar)

Idk a lot about seer abilities but based on what we saw of elain’s powers, it shows that:

They’re able to see the future: “Twin ravens are coming, one white and one black.”

They’re able to see the unknown (something that already happened): “I saw a box of black stone. I saw a feather of fire land on snow and melt it.”

All the visions elain talked about might help predict next book’s plot (or just small mentions that might take place)

I will add some of my thoughts with each vision (my thoughts are not always right cuz apparently some people don’t get it)

Vision 1: The sea & heartbeats

“I can see so very far now. All the way to the sea.”

“I can hear your heartbeat—if I listen carefully. I can hear her heartbeat, too.”

Now elain said this while looking at the “sea beyond Sidra” so you might think she’s just trying her fae abilities but feyre knew that was not the case in the next line:

“I can hear the sea. Even at night. Even in my dreams. The crashing sea—and the screams of a bird made of fire.”

“Will I hear the earthworms writhing through the soil? Or the stretching of roots? Will the bird of fire come to sit in the trees and watch me?”

We all thought she went mad but well..it was just her seer abilities and that led the IC to find vassa.

Now with elain having visions about vassa and hearing her heartbeats...are they connected somehow? Because yes vassa helped in the war but I don’t think that was the only reason for the visions.

Vision 2: Through the stone

The very uncomfortable conversation between Lucien and elain led to some visions about a possible journey

While reading the quotes below i want you to notice how when elain is facing Lucien, she talks normally about things that already happened, like how he betrayed them, or how she remembers him from feyre’s stories (in case anyone wants to read it: it’s acowar chapter 24 may god be with you)

But when she faces the windows again she starts talking about all the stuff that doesn’t make sense.

“She looked away—toward the windows. “I can hear your heart,” she said quietly.”

“When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?”

I don’t think she was talking to lucien, especially since in the previous chapters she was talking about heatbeats.

Some elucien stans use the quotes above to support their ship, but knowing that previously elain heard vassa’s heartbeat....plus even lucien doubted elain was addressing him:

“He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

She just stared somewhere far through the window and mentioned how she could hear heartbeats through the stone, which reminds me of ACOSF when nesta was in the prison:

“She stared into the darkness above. “I think they used it to … to trap their enemies and their enemies’ children into the stone itself.”

Again she isn’t trying her new fae abilities, she saw something no one can, and we now know that some people are trapped in stone (honestly i was waiting for nesta to free them but i guess sjm is saving it for later)

Vision 3: He saw me

“No one ever does. No one ever looked—not really.” A bramble of words. Her voice strained to a whisper. “He did. He saw me. He will not now.”

Whenever i read this I’m like elain, honey—you mean to tell me the man who rejected you? the man who didn’t accept your new self? Something you couldn’t control.....He saw you? How in the living hel-

But then i read this post and it made sense, especially since no one guessed the suriel was talking about a different highlord, so why are we sure that elain was talking about graysen?

Considering elain is a seer, she either saw the future or the unknown. Now who is the only character who saw her?

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.”

This makes me think elain was shown the future, and saw herself with someone who understood her, but something happened he disappeared / died and he no longer sees her.

Vision 4: cassian dying

“He snapped your wings, broke your bones.” “It’ll take more than that to kill me,” “Elain only said to Cassian, “No, it will not.”

“Not twenty feet away, Cassian was on the ground. Wings—snapped in spots. Blood leaking from them. Bone jutted from his thigh. His Siphons were dull. Empty.”

Looking back, elain’s vision came true. That might’ve been the scene she saw and as a result she saved the day by killing the king.

But i added this just in case it wasn’t the scene she was talking about.....and to give you more anxiety :)

Vision 5: koschei

“They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer-lord …” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—others so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.”

“Mor leaned forward. “Do you know why the other queens cursed her—sold her to him?”

“Elain studied the table. “No. No—that is all mist and shadow.”

Well, there are many theories about koschei (don’t know how you guys do it) and I’m not going to come up with more theories about my dude, but based on my quick research that onyx box contains his soul (or not? Please he’s so complicated) and the fact that elain saw it...

Here are also few questions:

Why was vassa sold and cursed? What did the queens gain from that? And why was this truth unknown to elain?

Vision 6: Vassa and Lucien

Right when Lucien said that he’ll bring vassa back, this happened:

“Elain now watched Lucien warily. Blinking every now and then. She revealed no hint of whatever she might be seeing—sensing. None.”

Elain saw something, and it wasn’t him dying because he came back unharmed. So what did she see?

This whole scene screams “goodbye” to me, because after this scene Lucien found his band of exiles. This was their last chance, and elain saw it all.

Even feyre—our baddest bish—saw it:

“A bird of flame … and a lord of fire. I wondered if they’d found each other yet.”

A bonus vlucien moment cuz why not (this scene was the last Lucien scene in acowar):

“Vassa still remained inside, chatting with Lucien animatedly. I supposed that if she only had until dawn before turning back into that firebird, she wanted to make every minute count. Lucien, surprisingly, was chuckling, his shoulders loose and his head angled while he listened.”

Also how did papa Archeron convince koschei to free vassa (temporary)?

Anyway like miss Morrigan said “There is a reason why Elain is seeing these things.”

#pro elain #elain archeron #acotar #acosf #azriel x elain #elain x azriel #sarah j mass #elriel #lucien x vassa #vassa x lucien #koschei #azriel

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utilitycaster · 3 years

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Level 14!

let’s go down the list except Fjord last because there are two paths he can go by but in the long run there’s still time to change the road you’re on

Jester and Caduceus: no additional spell slots, although they can prep an additional spell as they always can upon leveling up (both are now able to prep 19 spells). Eighth level spells show up at L15 and honestly it’s a short list (for those wondering: control weather is very handy but they might not get that in time to battle the takers, antimagic field will be good when they take on Trent at some point in the future but probably not yet, earthquake could be pretty nasty against enemies in the distance, and holy aura grants some great benefits but does require an extremely expensive relic and mostly I just want to know what a 1000 GP relic of The Traveler will be). They do however get improved Destroy Undead (up to CR 3 now), and a slightly better chance at divine intervention (not relevant for 7 days for Caduceus, but maybe Jester will be able to drag Artagan from the bar?)

Caleb: like the other full casters, no additional spell slots. He does get two new spells for free and personally speaking after looking into how antimagic fields interact with concentration I would love to see delayed blast fireball. I’m saving 8th level spell speculation for when they level up to 15 because the wizard list is huge, and more importantly, Caleb gets a subclass feature this level! He is now a master transmuter and can use his stone in four ways: he can transmute a nonmagical object no larger than a five foot cube into a different nonmagical object of similar size and no greater value; he can remove all curses, diseases, and poisons from one creature and bring them up to full HP; he can cast raise dead without a spell slot (diamond still required)(unless it’s Yasha); or he can restore youth, reducing a creature’s apparent age by a minimum of 13 years (3d10 or 13, whichever is higher), but with no lifespan extension. Any of these options will destroy the stone, and he’d need to create a new one, which takes 8 hours, after a long rest.

Veth: She learns a new spell, which can be up to 3rd level, and can be anything on the wizard spell list (as opposed to her usual limitation to the enchantment and illusion list). Also she hasn’t use mage hand to distract people, I don’t think, unless I missed it in last week’s battles, which is a L13 ability that Sam might review upon leveling up. As mentioned, she could take Leomund’s Tiny Hut, but also counterspell, blink, nondetection, remove curse, sending...it’s a good list. I would advise personally against major image just because that’s illusion, so she could take it at any level she gets to learn new spells or swap out an older spell for it.

Yasha: in addition to a zillion HP, she gets the most metal ability of all, Rage Beyond Death. If she is raging and is taken to 0 HP, she does not go unconscious. She still makes death saves as normal - and presumably, if she is hit she still takes a death saving fail (although not an auto-crit since she’s not unconscious) but she will remain conscious until her rage ends, and also she can, as far as I can tell from the wording, be healed despite failing 3 death saves and remain alive as long as her rage has been continuous. L14 is a fun in-between state because at L15 she gets persistent rage, which makes her very, very hard to kill as a result - it pretty much needs to be an insta-kill, like disintegrate or finger of death or being taken to -154 HP, since otherwise she just rages until healed. But at L14 she does have to maintain rage through attacks or damage.

Beau: Beau is now proficient in all saving throws, which means +9 to WIS and INT, +6 to CHA, and +8 to CON which will help a lot against Lucien next time (as she was rolling with just a +3 to CON last week). Her strength and dex saves are unchanged since monks have proficiency in those to start. She also can spend a ki point to reroll a failed save. And finally, her unarmored movement speed is now 55 feet per round, which means with step of the wind she can do 165 ft/round, which is 18.75 mph or about 30 km/h. (note: technically this is not superhuman; Usain Bolt’s record 100 m dash comes out to 37 km/h. However, that was for under 10 seconds. A rested Beau can do this for 14 rounds which is 84 seconds, covering about 700 meters. Using the 800m dash world record, the top speed is about 29 km/h; since it’s not a perfect comparison, Beau is at the very least matched with the (male) world record holder for that distance and possibly a bit faster).

Fjord: Fjord is currently at L10 Warlock/L3 Paladin.

Another level in Warlock gives him two major benefits: a third 5th level spell slot which like his other warlock spells refreshes on a short rest, and a mystic arcanum, which is essentially a once-per-day 6th level spell. The arcanum options are interesting and a few don’t seem very in line with his patron (somehow, create undead, mental prison, or soul cage don’t really seem like great choices) but arcane gate is highly on-brand - it’s basically Now You’re Thinking With Portals (and means that he could essentially allow the whole party to dimension door, with the restriction that it must be somewhere he can see). Conjure fey is sort of the same idea as conjure greater demon except fey, so I don’t really see the benefit; Eyebite is a solid debuffing option; Flesh to Stone lets him petrify people if he can maintain concentration and they fail their saves; Mass Suggestion is exactly what it sounds like (and lasts 24 hours without concentration, although there’s a save and it breaks if you attack the creatures affected); the various elemental investiture spells which could be handy in combat although would make it hard for the other melee fighters in the Nein; scatter, which is also very on brand in that it lets him teleport other people around; and we know True Seeing from the clerics and it’s probably not worth it since he’s got the sword and said clerics can do the same thing.

L4 in Paladin’s main benefits are: gets him closer to higher paladin levels, gets him an extra prepared L1 spell, and he finally gets the ASI/feat the rest of the party got two levels ago. For ASIs, bumping up strength and dex wouldn’t hurt - a higher AC and saves are always nice even if his attacks are with his maxed-out charisma - but the feats look better, honestly. Some that stand out to me are are inspiring leader (he’d have to do it twice to cover everyone, but it would give everyone +19 temp HP); mage slayer which is a feat I really like but also makes sense for Fjord, who is often in melee against spellcasters; spell sniper (which would give him a 240 range with Eldritch Blast, and a bonus cantrip, which he could take from any list although charisma casters are the smartest option); or prodigy, which Beau has and which would give him some extra skills and expertise.

#critical role #critical role spoilers #mighty nein #level 14 #this took a while #mostly in looking through the warlock 6th levels and calculations of beau's speed

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teddy06writes · 3 years

Text

Gonna Fix It

requested by this anon: “hi!! could you maybe do something angsty and fluffy with Fundy (or anyone really) where the reader is a trans guy? he/him”

Fundy x transmale!reader

trigger warnings: transphobes, homophobes, some swearing (I used the words tranny and fag) {I am both gay and technically trans please don’t come for me}

premise: When your dead name is leaked, along with photos of you pre transition the entire internet is quick to judge hypercritically, but your boyfriend is quick to take care of it

(y/n/n)- your nickname

(f/l/y/n)- first letter of your name

(y/d/n)- your deadname

“blep” talking

‘blep’ texting/messaging

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

“(y/n/n)!”

“Yes Tommy?” You asked.

“How’d you feel about selling drugs?”

You snorted, glancing up at your face cam and the messages in chat before turning your character to face Tommy’s, laughing, “What?”

“Do you want to sell drugs with me and Wilbur?” He repeated.

You blinked, moving your character to look at the van and then back at him, “Tommy, I would love to sell drugs out of a van with you.”

“Yes! We have secured another one lets go! Pogchamp!”

You chuckled as Wilbur joined vc, following Tommy’s character over to the van as he announced, “Gentleman! We have a problem, we need to find a better cover for our operations.”

You looked around the inside of the van, filled with brewing stands and furnaces, “A hot dog van.”

“Pfff- a hot dog van?” Tommy laughed.

“It would be a decent cover.” Wilbur admitted, “We should do it.”

Almost reluctantly Tommy nodded, and Wilbur moved on, “Next on the order of business, we need new recruits beside just (y/n).”

You grinned, “I know just who to ask!”

You started to leave vc when Tommy warned, “No Americans and no women.”

“You got it.”

You left vc, talking to your twitch chat as you messed around in discord, “Weird lot, them boys. Anyway- apparently I’m a drug dealer in Minecraft now! And I’m gonna recruit someone else!”

After a few messages through discord your boyfriend called you, “Hello?”

Upon hearing Floris’ voice chat started spamming about you being a simp.

“Yeah so Tommy and Wilbur kinda roped me into selling drugs on the smp and they told me to get more people, so I’m calling you.” You explained.

“Angel why didn’t you just come ask me? Was the call necessary?”

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up chat I’m not blushing! It was easier than getting up. Are you in or not?”

“Yeah sure.”

Child: ‘(y/n) big man’

Child: ‘big (f/l/y/n)’

(y/n): ‘what do you want Tommy’

Child: ‘get on the server we’re making plans for our country’

You sighed, quickly moving to boot up Minecraft, starting stream along with it and quickly giving an intro before logging on to the smp and joining vc.

“Ayyy! Big man!” Tommy yelled.

“Tommy!” You responded, though significantly less enthusiastically.

“(y/n) come to the hto dog van we’re making important decisions.” Wilbur said.

“Okay.” You headed down the prime path toward the van, listening to the others chatter.

“Okay so we need a name for our country,” Wilbur said as you arrived, “Something that fits. I am open to suggestions.”

“Pog something.” Tommy offered.

“ehhhhh.”

“Pogtopia!” He exclaimed.

You punched his character, “That’s so stupid.”

“Well- hmm, we’re all men here soooooooo Manburg!” WIlbur mused.

“It needs to be more European.” Eret said, tossing you some of the block to start helping with the walls.

“L’manburg.” You offered.

Wilbur and Tommy burst out laughing, “Perfect!”

“No Americans and no women! Just the way I like it!” Tommy yelled.

Everyone began to laugh at that, and you grinned, entirely unaware of the chaos beginning to unfold all over twitter, and even in your twitch chat.

~~ Later that night you ended up flopped across the couch, Floris sending you a text from his office, ‘Don’t forget to take off the tibby prison angel’ ‘I’ll be done with this soon and we can cuddle’

You chuckled, dragging yourself up off the couch and shuffling off to the bathroom to change out of your binder, and pull on a different hoodie, a bigger one that you had stolen from Floris.

By the time you were done and had come back out into the living room Floris had also emerged from his office, and was staring in horror at his phone.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“You haven’t been on Twitter lately have you?”

Immediately you were going for your phone, taking it off silence to be bombarded by notifications, “uhhhh.”

Floris bit his lip, “I think you should read it for yourself.”

Quietly you opened twitter, checking first the hashtag that appeared at the top of your mentions ‘#y/nisalie’

Your breath hitched as you opened the hashtag, immediately seeing the original tweet, ‘#y/nisalie y/n has been lying to all of us a thread: apparently this tranny didn’t have the guts to put out that “he” was lying’

You scrolled through the tweets, ‘Man, I can’t believe (y/d/n) thought (y/n) was a good fake name’, ‘well at least we know Fundy isn’t actually a fag’ and then worst of all, ‘Guys I found what (y/d/n) actually looks like!’ followed by a picture of you, pre transition.

The world felt like it was caving in as you slowly sank down against the wall, tears starting to flow, “How did this happen?”

Floris was quick to sit down next to your, pulling you into his arms, “I dunno angel.”

You turned, sobbing into his shoulder, “Why are they like this? Wha- what am I gonna do?”

“I’m gonna fix this,” He murmured, “I promise.”

You curled further into his embrace, tears soaking his shirt as he rubbed circles into your back.

“It’s gonna be okay angel, it’s gonna be okay.”

~~ You avoided the internet at all costs for the next few days, not streaming, not being active on twitter or any other socials, hardly ever leaving Floris’ embrace for more than a few minutes as more and more notifications filled your phone.

It took a lot of coaxing from your boyfriend to check your twitter notifications after two days, and when you did you were delighted to see dozens of positive messages from real fans, and messages addressing the situation from all of your friends.

Eret: ‘dudes (y/n) is litterally trans, is you can’t deal with that then get out of this community; it’s seriously not okay to disrespect someone like that.’

Wilbur: ‘guys remember when I said trans rights and trans rights until I’m dead? Well that applies to (y/n) as well so piss off and stop bothering them’

Tommy: ‘listen up, serious tweet for once: you guys really need to learn how to recover someone and there pronouns, stop calling big man (y/n) by his dead name or get off the platform’

Along with countless others, and of course one from Floris as well, who had made a thread as soon as he saw what was going on:

‘Guys, listen. My boyfriend is the most wonderful human being in all the world. Whoever leaked his dead name or went looking for pictures of him before his transition is honestly a monster and I hope you realize the weight of your actions. Apparently we as a community have a few things to go over,

1: respect creators boundaries, if (y/n) didn’t want to tell you he wasn’t born male it’s not your business, 2: respect people’s pronouns, if someone tells you to use he/him they probably know if there right or not, 3: you can’t fucking invalidate someone like that, and put them on display as a fucking hashtag.

4: if anyone ever tries to talk about my boyfriend like this, (using the wrong pronouns, misgendering, using his dead name or in any other way invalidateing him) I will personally make sure you are never allowed on social media again’

You looked up from your phone, “Y- you got them to stop?”

Floris smiled, “I told you I was gonna fix it.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #fundy x reader #teddy06 writes

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