#commander fury the cat

[luminarai]

several people suggested the old guard and fettuccine the cat and then I saw this old tweet and this just happened

#my art #the old guard #tog #fettuccine the cat #commander fury the cat #it’s been ages since I drew them omg #fettuccine gets progressively more fluffy every time I draw her #catch the tiny Booker in the background #and those are Nile’s feet in the foreground in case it’s unclear lmao #yusuf al kaysani #joe al kaysani #nicolo di genova #nicky di genova #andy the scythian #andromache the scythian #nile freeman #Booker #digital art #artists on tumblr

[cowyolks]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Chapter Seven. I See You

Prev. Chapter Six Masterlist

Pairing: God! Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Prompt: A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.

A/n: Sorry this took eons to write. This chapter is longer than my others because I felt bad lol. Please enjoy!

It had been nearly a week since Simon had left in an angry flap of wings. At least you thought it was a week—time was hard to tell in the Underworld.

You spent your days in the large library of the palace, drinking in words as if they would sweep you away from your current situation. If you read the text with enough concentration you could pretend that you weren’t in danger, let alone with such beings of high power.

In this week, it had given you a lot of time to think. To reflect that you were just shaken, and Simon had been the one to protect you against your mother, Shepherd, and any other threat you’ve encountered. It wouldn’t make sense for him to kill you, specifically since he had been so passionate in proclaiming you as his promised.

You thought, and you thought hard.

Maybe being his wife would result in safety, in undying gratitude that he’s shown you already. Perhaps, loving a God could make you feel immortal.

A page flipping startled your thinking, making you pull your eyes away from the passage you were blankly staring at.

Keegan had been your role protector in the last few days, only changing shifts with the furies when you bathed and first thing in the morning when he had conferences.

While his black robes and sharp appearance stood out like a sore thumb in the massive library, he made it clear he was a man of literature. He’s introduced you to the book you were skimming upon now.

“You’re thinking awfully hard to just be reading.” His deep voice was very similar to Simon’s, but unlike your betrothed, Keegan’s voice teased and slithered playfully.

Like a friend you’ve known of centuries.

“I’m worried about Simon. Has he contacted you, lately?” You chewed your lip, bookmarking your page and setting it in your lap. You felt ashamed for sitting idly and reading while Simon was cleaning up your own mess. With the artificial sun dimming into oranges and pinks you knew it would be another day without him.

“No, but don’t worry, flos. Simon can take care of himself.” Keegan spoke in blunt honesty, something you appreciated, but didn’t stop your stomach from twisting.

You glanced down to your ankle, no longer hidden by your long dress. Instead you wore a summer dress of lilac, the material smooth against your skin. The mark had healed slightly, only red blemishes remained, instead of the painful burnt char that was there before.

“Hey…” Keegan spoke up, nudging your shoulder slightly, “all this worrying is only going to give you grief, come let’s take a walk before it gets too dark.”

The lethal man stood, stretching on his heels and flexing his spine, almost similar to a large predatory cat. His white eyes turned to you, upon noticing that you haven’t moved an inch, your eyebrows still furrowed together.

“Up… I’ve got something that will lift your spirits.” Keegan commanded, offering you his hand, calloused from holding his scythe.

You took it, surprised to find the flesh warm and comforting. He hauled you up, releasing you before nodding his head to the doors that led outside.

You followed close by, something Keegan insisted upon so he could watch your every move. In a way you were relieved to have such protection from the demon, but annoyance tickled your mind since you enjoyed solitude on occasion. That wasn’t an option now.

A solid thwack to your back made you stumble slightly, your eyes going wide as you nearly fell upon the stone path. Keegan’s deep chuckle mocked you as he flapped his wings playfully. You narrowed your eyes, a small smile gracing your lips at his amused expression.

“That hurt, you oversized chicken.” You let the insult slip your tongue with a teasing lit, though it didn’t halt Keegan’s gloating nature.

“Chicken… No one has ever called Death a chicken.” He teased, his smile broke open, revealing a set of sharp canines. “Wipe that grin off your face, mighty one.” You found yourself quipping again, truly thankful to Thanatos for halting your fears and doubts. It was comforting to know you’ve made a friend, regardless of him being the literal vessel of Death.

“I wanted to show you a place of peace. It’s Simon’s favorite spot to be when he isn’t working.” Keegan crossed his arms behind his back, retracting his wings as he marched like a dutiful soldier.

He led you to an area of seclusion, hidden by waves of ivy and vines. With large hands he pushed the plants back, gesturing for you to step through the cavern and into a very familiar garden.

The garden from your nightmare.

Your steps halted, gaze falling upon the stone path that lead to your own demise. Keegan took notice, his palm coming to rest upon your shoulder in comfort.

You attempted to anchor yourself to him, forcing your eyes away from the sight from your potential death. Yet, the God seemed to read you enough for a knowing look to creep on his face. “Whatever you dreamt of, it will not happen.” He spoke so firmly you immediately felt the heavy weight fall from your shoulders.

“It just felt so real. I died over there.” You pointed, Keegan followed your gaze before pushing you forward. “I know when all deaths will happen, flos. The demon was tricking you.”

This made you uneasy, but you began to creep forward to the path anyways. “So you know when and how I’ll die?” You questioned, taking in the truly magnificent details of the garden.

His lips quirked up, his youthful appearance did little to hide his actual age. You supposed death was as old as time itself, because even the stars died before mortals walked the earth.

“Yes, I suppose I know how everyone will die, but tis bad luck to tell.”

You dropped the subject, feeling as if you already had enough bad luck for the century. With a shake of your head, you began to walk the path, knowing that Keegan would be there to protect you. Maybe, if you faced your fear, you could finally get rid of the cloud of doubt forming. It was only two weeks until the effects of the pomegranate wore off. Two weeks you had to decide if you would marry a God.

The path broke off into a split, the union breaking to give way to a simply gorgeous pond of the clearest waters you’ve ever seen. It was full of life, tadpoles swam in little circles, among with an occasional swan. Frogs bobbed above the surface, and koi fish gently preened the green vegetation on the bottom.

It was simply beautiful, and it made you feel more relaxed than you’ve felt in a long time.

“I gave this to Hades after word was told of a union between him and his betrothed.” A voice said from behind you, making you yelp and jump back near Keegan.

Keegan gripped his scythe tight, but made no effort to use his weapon.

Your eyes found purchase of a woman, her hair like spun gold and face as beautiful as it was dangerous. She was dressed in white, her dress accented with what looked to be feathers. She floated above the water, hovering just enough to not touch the wet surface.

“Hera.” Keegan greeted with a bow, a small slap to your back told you that you needed to repeat his gesture. Softly, you curtseyed, eyes curious as you took in her glowing aura.

“Thanatos, may I borrow the girl for a moment?”

Keegan’s lips pursed, obviously not pleased with the question. “I don’t like the idea of her leaving my side, Queen Mother. Forgive me, but I was told to watch her by orders of Hades himself.”

Hera smiled slightly, her skin glowing like a warm pearl in the artificial sunlight. She stepped closer, now firmly on the stone path. “Yes, I was told in council of his protection notice. Ghost is very fond of you, mortal.” She turned to you, a glimmer in her knowledgeable eyes.

You couldn’t help the nervousness eating away at you. “Is he alright?” You found yourself asking, cursing yourself with how much concern you had actually voiced. A knowing smile fell upon the woman’s face.

“As far as I know he is well. Hades left with Artemis earlier this week, she’s our best tracker. If they find word of Makarov we shall know.” Hera informed with her lips pressed together. She now ascended in front of you and Keegan, the God pushing you behind him slightly in protective vigor.

“Makarov?” You voiced, attempting to ignore the shiver that traveled up your spine. Was this the name of the demon that had sent you into such a fright?

Hera stood in front of Thanatos, both of their auras contrasting each other in a clash of dark and light “Let me speak with the girl. We shall stay in your sight, and no harm will come to her, I swear upon the River Styx.”

Keegan huffed, still slightly displeased, but whatever vow she had insisted was enough for him to shake her hand in agreement. “Come with me, mortal. We have much to discuss.” Hera turned to you with periwinkle eyes.

You found yourself stepping around Keegan, his stare burning into your back as you followed after Hera, attempting to keep up with her long stride amongst the stone path. She snapped her fingers, producing two sitting cushions against the soft grass.

Hesitantly you sat against a cushion, the woman falling next to you. Keegan watched from across the pond, arms crossed as he waited.

“You must be unsurprised of us Gods and Godesses appearing before you. But I am Hera, Queen of the Olympians and Goddess of Bonds and Women. But you may call me Kate.”

“You’re Zeus’ Queen?”

Hera smiled softly, a little chuckle falling from her petal lips. “I suppose so. When the atoms formed us and the titans, Zeus and I decided to rein together, but we do not hold a romantic connection, no.”

“I apologize.” You hoped to not offend such a powerful being, despite her vow to keep you safe in this short time.

“It is a common thing to ask, especially since you did not know any better. Most of us Gods do not have the satisfaction of finding a partner.” Kate tutted, her graceful hand swishing across the grass.

“Yet, Simon had found me.” You murmured, eyes falling to the pond that symbolized your betrothal.

“You know, I’m the Queen of Marriage. It was I that the Fates consulted to draw your match.” Hera spoke up, just as the water began to brighten slightly. As if her words echoed into the wet surface.

“So you must know about this prophecy.” You questioned, hoping to possibly get some answers about what the Olympian’s kept mentioning. Yet, you were left dissatisfied, for the Queen of the Heavens pursed her lips. “I do know of the prophecy, but I do not know it word for word. It would be wise to consult in Gaz at your wedding.”

“Gaz is another God?” You questioned, attempting to ignore how sure Hera was that you’d accept Hades’ marriage proposal. “Yes, Apollo is his name, he’s the God of Prophecy and the Sun.”

“There are many of you, it’s hard to imagine you have any enemies at all.”

Kate’s face turned grim, her eyes swirling in a look of caution. “Makarov was always locked away in prison in the underworld. It frightens me that he was able to slither his way into your chambers so easily.”

“How could he have escaped?”

Hera’s lips pursed, “I don’t think he truly has. What you saw was merely a figment of him. Makarov is Tartarus, pure chaos. He wouldn’t have let you live if he was in his true form.”

“He said he wanted everything from me.” Your voice came out confused, what would literal chaos want with a mortal?

“We will keep you safe. Besides, times will be happier.” Hera stood from her position, seemingly satisfied with the little chat.

“Wait…” you called out, suddenly feeling your cheeks redden as you bit your lip in thought. “You said you fortified our marital bond. Will I be happy? Will he?”

Hera let a soft grin spread across her lips.

“For Eternity.”

You stood in front of the mirror, taking time to glance at yourself before making the descent to your chamber. The moon reflected against the glass, as well as Kleo’s watching eyes.

It wasn’t ideal for her to watch your every move, especially such simple actions like bathing or dressing. But it did ease your mind and made your thoughts run clearer.

“Almost ready?” Kleo asked from against the wall, her hand resting upon the hilt of her sword, as if anything would happen in the slightest second.

With a final glance in the mirror, your eyes traveled to the soft ivy green of your nightdress, before shifting up to the soft blemish of your neck, still visible and showcasing.

“Yes, thank you for waiting.” You made sure to show appreciation to all of your guards, knowing they likely had so much better things to do.

It was a short walk to your chambers, the room was lit by a series of candles. Something you found to be lit at all times, despite the waste of wax. The thought of being alone in the darkness was now too much for you to bare, despite being guarded.

You never wanted to see those red eyes again.

Before you could even sit down on your furs, a loud commotion made you jump, coming just from down the hall. Kleo drew her sword, placing you behind her quickly.

“Your Grace, please. You’re injured!” A small voice called out into the hallway, just as footsteps grew louder towards your chambers. “Move.” His deep voice growled close to your door, making you bite your cheek in worry and in happiness that he was back.

The God of the Dead bursted through your door, not bothering to knock or even unfold his wings to make his way through the door. Instead, he stood still, his wild eyes falling to you.

Kleo lowered her weapon, still staying close.

“Are you hurt?” He asked rapidly, you didn’t hesitate to shake your head, not knowing what would happen if you so much as said you had a paper cut.

His shoulders sagged in relief, and it was then that you could see he let his fatigue and injuries get the best of him. Your God was covered in slashing wounds, all the color of his blood of liquid gold.

He took a step closer, and another, until he stumbled slightly, a large gash on his torso making him gasp. It was strange seeing someone of such high power be in pain. Almost instantly you reached out, running on your own instinct as you lowered him down to your furs.

“Why hasn’t he been tended to?” You asked to the man in white robes, likely a medic to Simon. He gulped, extending a variety of bandages and salves out for you to see. “I was trying, he insisted upon seeing you first, my lady.”

Your gaze traveled down to Simon, who was covering a particular long gash on his chest, his eyes adverted almost as if he was scared of your reaction.

With a huff, you moved to take the supplies into your own hands. “I’ve got this, I was my village’s healer. Besides the two of us need to talk.”

The medic nodded, hastily bowing with relief before shuffling out of the room. Kleo held your stare for a moment, before following out of the room.

“What happened to you?” Worry dripped from your tone like falling rain. Gently, you set the bandages upon your bed, right across from Simon. His wings twitched behind his back, just as his black eyes glanced up.

“We found him—the demon. He was stronger than I thought. Artemis and I hardly escaped. But I believe he’s licking his wounds somewhere far away.” His legs spread wider against your bed, his torso leant back and stretching. He jerked, letting out a loud hiss. Even with the mask upon his face you could see the wincing in pain.

“Stop, stop moving you’ll make it hurt worse.” You fussed, bringing up a bottle of salve to your eyes.

“Already hurts pretty bad, darling.”

Your heart fluttered at the name, still you attempted to hide your shaking fingers as your eyes trailed down to his mauled torso. Silently, you bit down upon your lip. Who could destroy a God so easily?

“I need you to take off your shirt.” You ordered, feeling some sense of professionalism leak through your command—Perks of years of healing in your village.

Simon did as told with little fuss, lifting his arms to pull his robes over his head, but as he tugged upon the swirling fabric his wound gushed more liquid gold, making you hastily reach out to him.

“Stop! I’ll do it, you’ll injure yourself more.” Simon dropped his arms back down, looking to be in relief as his skin constricted normally again. He said nothing as you pried his clothing from his torso. Even though it was your second time seeing his rippling chest and stomach, you still found yourself inhaling slightly harder as you examined him.

Snapping out of your stupor, you reached near your nightstand, taking a rag from the pile and dipping it into a wash basin you had previously used to wash your face. The water was still warm to the touch.

You made work of dabbing the multiple wounds with the water, surprised that Simon didn’t even flinch when the rag hit his wounds. You wondered then how many battles he was truly in.

His eyes pierced against your face, making you heavily aware of his stare as you dabbed salve upon the already closing wounds. With nimble hands you began to wrap up his chest.

“You’re staring…” you muttered, eyebrow furrowed in concentration as you attempted to ignore his stare. His hand reached up, latching to your own as he squeezed lightly.

“Makarov, he gets into people’s heads, he managed to get the best of me, slashed clean through my cheek. I thought I had lost you, it seemed so real.” His words rumbled deep within his chest, sincerity dripping from his tone.

“I’m right here.” You assured.

His eyes blew out in adoration, something you were beginning to grow used to. How he adored the air because it was what you breathed, how he envied the sun and rain because they got to touch your skin. How he planted flowers in your name because you had once picked the stems.

“I know.” He whispered.

It was silent for a moment, until you thought back to what he previously said. You sucked in a breath, “you said Makarov cut your face, you need to treat it. I can leave if it brings you comfort?”

His hand gripped your wrist tighter, silence over taking you for a moment before he attempted to sit up straighter.

“Stay.” He requested, a silent plea that spoke volumes. This was huge, at long last you would see his face. His fingers dropped your hand, instead reaching up to the skull helm he proudly wore.

You gulped as he peeled it from his skin.

Air escaped every crevice of your lungs when you looked to him. The real him.

He was every bit a God. His hair cropped and a color of sweet honey. His skin was rich and pale, previous smile lines etched against his eyes, amongst with dark circles hidden underneath his black irises. His nose was large, that fit well against his high cheekbones and lengthy cheeks. Stubble grazed over his sharp jaw, and a singular white scar ran through the bottom of his chin to a set of petal pink lips.

Without thinking, you brought your palm to his cheek that was free of any injuries, reveling in the warmth of his skin and prick of his stubble. He was real, despite how beautiful he was. He was yours.

“You’re staring.” He repeated you from earlier, a small smile peeking from his lips, you decided it was breathtaking.

“You’re insufferable…” you teased back, hand still cradling his cheek. His eyes locked with yours intensely—an intensity that wasn’t there when he was wearing a mask.

“And you’re simply exquisite, Sponsa Mea.” Simon slightly turned his head, his lips falling upon your open palm in a gentle searing kiss.

Your face flushed at the kiss, something that made you yearn for it to be his lips on yours instead of just your palm.

“I’ve had some time to think about our betrothal.” You murmured, suddenly feeling just how close you were to him. How his eyes fluttered shut at the sound of your voice, as if he was intoxicated just on you.

He hummed, the dark wings behind his back extending to your waist, only touching you enough to tickle against your sides. You weren’t sure if he was truly aware of what he was doing, his face still locked against your touch.

“I’ll stay. I’ll marry you.”

Tags: @soapyghost @queenqu33f @blueoorchid @lethalchiralium @eclipse-darling @galagcica @dead-noodles @agspgrwasb @toobsessedsstuff @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @vile-villain6661 @peachlcve @soldier-lass @ghostslittlegf @rebel-soldat @erintaro @ghost-with-a-teacup @fante-di-denari @sollucifer @embers-of-alluring @icepancakes @queen-ilmaree @ahmya-4 @msecho19 @the-abyss-of-fandoms @madysonavery @angstyjellybean @trashboat-the-raccoon @multitargaryen @kdkj122920 @montenegroisr @lilacsourgirl @thisperspective @random0lover @pasta-m1lk @badpvn @sweetybuzz25z25 @stupendoustyrantstranger @4ndjelij4 @bootlegroach @brainstormbby @yehet-moi-ohoratrat @lilpothoscuttings

#cod #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley #modern warfare #simon ghost riley x reader

[pandorasfavorite]

Man-Child

AN: I JUST THOUGHT A THOUGHT

No one pissed you off more than Dominik Fucking Mysterio. He was the most irritating and cocky person you know. Therefore, you'd do anything to punch him in the mouth, like actually anything. But instead of living out your fantasy, you are forced to work with him and listen to the way he shoots off at the mouth.

Dominik's feet are kicked up on the coffee table and his hands are behind his head. Something about him bothered you more than you could withstand, so yea maybe you were a bitch to him from time to time. "Could you get your feet off the table? People eat there", you mutter from your faraway spot on the same couch. Dominik whips his head around to look at you, so quickly his hair smacks him in the face. But just as you expected, he raises his eyebrows and lets the aggrogant look grace his face. He leans further back into the couch and pushes his feet farther on the table, the annoying squeak of shoes making your face go red in anger.

You scoff and turn your body towards him, "You're a real dick, you know?". His mouth quirks up as if he is close to smiling at your displeasure with him. However after a few seconds, it formed a smirk, "You make it so fun", he counters. AHHHH YOU COULD SCREAM. You propel a few inches closer to him on the couch, his stretched-out body not giving you much space in the first place. The rest of the Judgement Day is groaning and sighing, because this is a everyday encounter. Both you and Dominik couldn't get over this barrier of dislike for one another. You glare at Dominik, it seems like you are peering into his soul. You try to get out your fury-filled words but your mouth only opens and closes as you feel the words on the tip of your tongue.

Dominik has the same smug face and there were just a few seconds before something would come tumbling out of his big mouth. "Cat got your tongue chica?", he sticks out his tongue playfully. Yea. That was your last straw. Dominik Mysterio has officially figure-skated on your last nerve. You lunge at Dominik, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him with you off the couch. "What the fu-!", Dominik begins to yell only for it to be cut off short by your bodies crashing to the floor. You can hear the ruckus from Judgement Day as they yell at you both to cut it out. You and Dominik are rolling around on the floor trying to get the upper hand, Dominik yells out trying to prove his innocence. "She tackled me!", he hollers and grabs above your waist.

You were rightfully pissed but Dominik has always been stronger than you, so after you had your run of rolling around on the floor. Dominik grabbed you by the hips and picked you up off of the center of his stomach where you were sitting and smacking his chest. He sat you down on the floor beside him, he was so exhausted from the struggle he laid back down to catch his breath. He is panting and every so often glancing back at you; each time you see the way his lip twitches up in an almost smile.

"Is this going to be a problem, guys? Do we actually have to separate two adults?", Rhea asks in her commanding and motherly tone. Dominik sits up and stares at you, his teeth poking through as he smiles hugely. "I think we'll be fine", he claims while running a hand through his long hair. You cross your arms and stare back at him all the same, "Speak for yourself Mysterio" you grit under your breath.

He gives you an annoyed look, the one where his eyes are low and his mouth is just barely hanging open. For some reason it was endearing... or cute. You were fucked.

#dominik mysterio fanfiction #dom dom #dominik mysterio fluff #dominik mysterio x reader #dominik my bbg #dominik mysterio #wwe #monday night raw #rhea riley #friday night smackdown #i need him biblically

[queenaryastark]

Ned is wild. No, seriously.

He's constantly in a fury or his temper is noted as rising or he's going cold with anger

He's constantly voicing his distaste for people with only the barest filter

He tried to murder Littlefinger in broad daylight in full view of witnesses bc he thought LF had insulted Cat

He repeatedly insults and challenges Robert, often in front of rooms full of people

No, but for real, he insults Robert's masculinity at least twice and gets away with it

He's stubborn as hell

He tells the king that he's too fat to fit into his armor in front of his squires and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard

He disobeys his king a couple times and even tells him what he should and shouldn't be doing

He flips like a switch and goes into a rage at the mention of Jorah who he wants to kill

And I can go on and on. Ned is considered passive, but he's a pretty strong personality. He just happens to be surrounded by other strong personalities like Cat, Robert, Arya, and Littlefinger so it's easy to overlook.

#ned stark #asoiaf

[theostrophywife]

the art of punishment.

masterlist

(azriel x reader)

author's note: it's been entirely too long my loves. after weeks of life getting in the way, i finally got the chance to sit down and write and this is what came out. enjoy xx

song inspiration: streets by doja cat.

The dungeon was squeaky fucking clean. 

You spent the better half of the day scrubbing the filth and grime from every surface, polishing every weapon until they were gleaming, and washing away the blood, saliva, and gods knew what else had been covering the decrepit holding cells. The task had taken hours and despite your Fae strength, the strenuous cleaning had taken a toll on your body. 

You winced as your knees cracked against the concrete floor, wiping and wiping until the entire thing sparkled and gleamed, its surface clear enough to see your reflection. 

“You missed a spot.” 

Leather boots came into view and muddied your mirrored image. You inclined your head to find the shadowsinger sneering down at you. A sarcastic retort crawled its way up your throat, but you tampered it down. Tampered down the fiery temper that put you in this position in the first place. 

A smirk tugged at Azriel’s lips as he watched you bite your tongue. The satisfaction from verbally lashing out at the spymaster would be short lived and Azriel would no doubt jump at the opportunity to draw out your punishment. 

Cleaning the dungeon was your penance for matching headfirst into a scuffle with a few raiders who were foolish enough to drift near the Velaris coast. The shadowsinger had commanded you to stand down until he could send reinforcements, but instead of waiting for backup you disobeyed his direct orders and though you’d made the pirates regret stepping into Night Court territory, Azriel had been pissed. 

You were well aware of your impulsive and brash tendencies, but even taking your willful disposition into account, the shadowsinger had always been harder on you than the other spies in his employ. If any of your other colleagues pulled the same stunt that you had, you seriously doubted that Azriel would put them on cleaning duty. Suspension and a stern talking to, maybe. But then again, none of your fellow spies had ever stepped out of line as you had. They were too afraid of the spymaster to do so and for good reason. 

In the short time you’ve worked with Azriel, you quickly figured out why his very name evoked such fear in Prythian. The shadowsinger was cold, lethal, and downright punishing. You’ve seen grown males piss themselves at the mere sight of the infamous spymaster knowing the world of pain and torture that awaited them in this very dungeon. Some begged for their lives while others prayed for mercy. Azriel granted them neither.

You might be reckless, but you weren’t stupid. As hard as it was, you forced yourself to keep your mouth shut and cleaned the speck of dirt by Azriel’s feet. 

“Will that be all?” you asked. You didn’t meet his eyes as you spoke, keeping your voice low and steady to hide the wrath and rage coiling through your veins. 

But Azriel didn’t have to see your face to sense your fury. He knew you well enough. Knew which buttons to push, knew which taunts to utter to awaken that fire within you. 

The shadowsinger hummed as he surveyed the room, darkness wafting off his tall, statuesque form and curling through those great, mighty wings. If he wasn’t such an asshole, you’d consider the Illyrian warrior beautiful. 

That sharp, piercing golden gaze fixed itself on you, taking in your kneeling form, your sullied leathers, and the cracks and cuts on your hands and knees that were already beginning to heal. Azriel paused as he beheld your burning gaze. It was like gazing into a crackling hearth and he wanted nothing more than to feed that growing flame. 

So he stayed silent. Waited until your fury lashed out at him like a delicious wave of heat. 

“Well?” you gritted out, clenching the rag in your hand so tightly that your knuckles were bone white. “Are you just going to stare at me the whole night?” 

And there it was. A glimpse of the feisty female that he enjoyed rousing so much. 

“Perhaps I’m just admiring the sight of you on your knees before me.” 

You scoffed. “Get a good look, shadowsinger. I’m sure the memory will come in handy when it’s just you and your hand at night.”

Despite all your bravado, the dark, low chuckle that left the shadowsinger’s lips sent goosebumps skittering through your skin. The seductive timbre of his laughter held nothing but promise. A promise to make you regret the words you’d just uttered. 

“I see that your punishment has not made you any wiser,” Azriel remarked, zeroing in on you like a predator sizing up its prey. “Shall I add the House of Wind to your cleaning duties?”

You rolled your shoulders and tilted your chin up in defiance. Perhaps it was unwise to provoke the spymaster, but you’ve had enough. If he had a fucking problem with you, then he could come right out and say it. 

“Do it, if you must.” You stood to your full height and though you barely reached Azriel’s shoulders, you didn’t balk from his intimidating stare. “But no amount of punishment will make me regret my actions. I did what I thought was right.” 

“That’s precisely the problem, isn’t it?” Azriel snapped as that cold, icy rage he kept hidden clawed its way to the surface. “You jump into things headfirst, consequences be damned without a single care for your own safety.”

“Please,” you sputtered out. “Don’t pretend you give a shit about my well-being. This is clearly some fucked up power trip because for some godsdamned reason, you seem to have a problem with me. If Arin or Zoya pulled the same stunt, you’d give them a slap on the fucking wrist.”

Azriel crossed his arms. “It’s not the same.” 

For some reason, that sets you off more than anything else. You had no idea what you’d done to deserve this treatment. You worked just as hard if not more than any of your fellow spies. You trained relentlessly. You executed missions flawlessly. You lied and spied and schemed so well that even the High Lord had given you recognition.

But still, none of your accomplishments seemed to please the shadowsinger. You didn’t know what was more infuriating—the fact that Azriel neglected to notice how much you busted your ass off for the Night Court or the fact that you wanted him to notice in the first place. 

As stupid as it was, you marched directly into Azriel’s path and stood your ground. 

You looked up at him with fire burning in your gaze. “It’s not fucking fair.” 

Something dangerous flashed across Azriel’s eyes, disturbing the mask of indifference he’d perfected over the years. “What’s not fucking fair is how terrified I was when you charged into danger without waiting for anyone else.” 

“Don’t fucking patronize me!” you shouted, poking at the plate of his impenetrable armor. “You know damn well that I can handle myself, shadowsinger.”

“But I can’t!” Azriel gritted. His booming voice echoed through the cell, bouncing off the walls and rattling your bones. You’ve never seen him quite like this. “I can’t fucking handle myself. You’re right. If anyone else had done what you did, I probably wouldn’t feel this fucking furious, but it’s different with you. It’s different because it’s you.”

You had enough sense to back away from the shadowsinger. To give him space and let that icy rage thaw, but it was much too late for that. Azriel stalked towards you, the golden flecks in his eyes flickering in stark contrast against the familiar greens and browns. 

The lit torches lining the walls cast a furious slash of scarlet and gold across his handsome face. “Do you even know why I push you harder than everyone else? Why I train with you until your palms are bruised and your knees are skinned? Why I won’t be satisfied until I’ve drilled it into that stubborn head of yours that your life is not something to play around with?”

With your back pressed against the wall, you gasped as the cool concrete brushed over your skin. It did nothing to suppress the heat unfurling through your body, which only burned hotter under Azriel’s gaze. 

“Because for some godsdamned reason, you hate me.”

Azriel’s laugh was dark and cruel, void of any emotion. “If only it were that easy.” 

The spymaster was a blur of darkness, moving so quickly that you didn’t even register what he was doing until he had you caged between his arms. 

“Do you know how terrified I was when I found out that you disobeyed my order and went up against those raiders all by yourself? I’ve never flown so fast in my godsdamned life. And here you are, accusing me of hating you.” 

“I don’t understand.”

“Then allow me to make it crystal fucking clear for you,” Azriel snapped. 

An argument sat on the tip of your tongue, but it never made its way out. The shadowsinger dipped his face lower, his lips grazing yours as he let out a shaky breath. Any resolve he might’ve had evaporated as soon as your gaze dipped to his mouth. And then you actually whimpered and the sound alone snapped the last thread of Azriel’s self control. In one swift move, he unleashed all of the pure, unadulterated desire that he’d spent so long fighting against.

Azriel surged forward and kissed you. You could taste the tension and desire on his lips as they moved seamlessly against yours while you twined your arms around his neck. He growled into your mouth and you tugged at his locks, pulling him down as his hands roamed your back.

The kiss was its own battle. It was a continuation of your bickering, but instead of words the weapons were your lips and tongues and hands. The shadowsinger was rough and unrelenting. Kissing him felt similar to sparring. Neither one of you refused to yield as tongues danced and teeth clashed. 

You hated to admit it, but Azriel was a good fucking kisser. 

You couldn’t tamper down your moan as his lips grazed your neck, leaving marks in his wake as he sucked and nipped at your flesh. 

“Wait,” you breathed, pulling away from Azriel. “So you don’t hate me. This whole time…you were worried about me?” 

The shadowsinger chuckled softly. “The best spy in Prythian and it took you that long to figure it out?” He grazed your jaw with his teeth. “You’re losing your touch, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll be lucky to even feel anything after you made me clean this disgusting dungeon.”

Azriel squeezed your waist, pressing his midsection against you. “Serves you right for nearly giving me a heart attack and for being such a stubborn, unapologetic brat after the fact.” You rolled your eyes and the shadowsinger lightly pinched your hip in response. “It's clear that my punishment wasn’t severe enough. You don’t appear to have learned your lesson.”

You tugged at his locks roughly and nipped at the sensitive spot below his jaw. “To be honest, I’m a little disappointed. I expected more from you, spymaster.”

The dark chuckle that slipped past Azriel’s lips was gruff and husky, caressing you with lethal promise. “Oh, you’ll regret that sweetheart.” His cool breath fanned through your overheated skin as he whispered in your ear. “I’ll have you begging for mercy by the end of the night.”

You thought that the shiver that snaked down your spine was of your own volition, but as the cold whisps of Azriel’s shadows curled through your wrists and ankles, you realized with a start that your words had struck their mark and hit a nerve. The shadowsinger sized you up like a predator stalking its prey. By the gods, you were really fucking in for it. 

Good. 

That’s exactly what you wanted. 

Years of stealth training couldn’t prepare you for how fast Azriel moved. He was barely a dark blur in your periphery as his shadows swallowed him up only to reappear behind you. Azriel grabbed your wrist and transported you to the far end of the cell. From the brick wall hung metal cuffs usually reserved for the traitors and enemies unlucky enough to find themselves down here, but tonight you were the one being tied up and chained in this dungeon. 

You released a shaky breath as the cold metal pressed an icy kiss upon your skin. In tandem with Azriel’s shadows, you were fully secured against the wall. 

The shadowsinger cocked his head to the side, admiring his handiwork. “Is this more of what you had in mind, sweetheart?” 

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Close, but not quite. It’s a good start though.” 

Azriel hummed as he traced the outline of your cheek, dragging his rough, calloused fingers along your jaw and by the corner of your mouth. 

“You have such a smart mouth,” he observed, brushing the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip. Azriel eased your mouth open as your lips formed a pink, pout ‘o.’ “I can’t wait to shut you up.”

Your breathing hitched and the shadowsinger took note of the change, a sadistic smirk blooming on that exquisite face. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He tilted your chin up and you held it out in defiance even as his golden gaze bore into you. “I’m not fooled by this angelic face for one second. You may play it sweet for everyone else, but I know deep down the dark fantasies that play over and over again in your head. I know, because I think about them too.”

Arousal pooled in your core and soaked through your panties. Had it not been for the shadows spreading your ankles apart, you would have rubbed your thighs together for any sort of friction. 

“Tell me what you think about,” you breathed. “I want to know.”

Azriel caressed your cheek, chuckling under his breath when you instinctively lean into his touch. “I think about you,” he says, lips ghosting over the shell of your pointed ear. “Just like this. Chained to the wall. Restrained by my shadows. Completely and utterly at my mercy.”

The shadowsinger caressed your cheek, softly kissing a path down the column of your throat while his hands trailed down your torso. Your eyes fluttered close as shallow breaths echoed through the walls. Azriel unbuckled the leather straps at the front of your armor, tossing it to the side and leaving you in nothing but a lacy black bra. 

He nipped and sucked at the valley of your breasts, etching his claim on you as though his lips were a paintbrush and your skin the canvas. Azriel unbuttoned your pants next and they fell to the floor, exposing the matching black panties that were already soaked all the way through at this point.

Rough, calloused fingers danced over your breasts and hips and waist and thighs, exploring every inch with careful scrutiny. 

“Such a pretty sight,” Azriel declared with awe and reverence. “It’s a shame that I have to punish you for being such a brat.”

He gripped the inside of your thigh and you bucked against his hand, desperate for any friction you could get. 

The shadowsinger gripped your hips in place and gave you a stern look. “Do that again and I’ll leave you hanging in this cell until morning.” He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes which were nearly black with lust. “I decide when and how to touch you. Do you understand, sweetheart?”

You swallowed thickly and nodded. You were so turned out that you couldn’t even form words. 

Azriel gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake. “I asked you a question,” he said sternly. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Not so tough now, are you?” Azriel stated with a smirk, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra.

He released your breasts, kissing over your chest until his hot breath fanned over your stiffened peaks. Azriel looked up at you through thick, dark lashes and smirked before wrapping his lips against your nipple. He sucked harshly, flicking his tongue over your hard nub while you keened. 

The sound of your whimpers went straight to his cock. He wanted to fuck you so badly, but Azriel wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. The shadowsinger intended to make you beg for it first. 

He continued his assault on your breasts, his teeth grazing against the soft flesh and leaving marks all along your chest. Azriel licked a path down to your navel and then he kneeled before you, his face inches away from your soaked care. He toyed with the waistband of your panties, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive area before he wrapped his lips around the fabric and kissed you through the lace. 

Azriel lapped you up, his saliva mixing with your slick as he tortured you through the thin barrier. You wanted your panties off so you could feel his mouth, his tongue, his lips on you, but he only held your hips down and laughed as you whimpered above him. 

“What’s wrong, love?” He nuzzled against your mound with his nose, tongue flicking along the inside of your thigh and teasing underneath the lace. “Does my pretty girl want me to fuck her with my tongue?” 

You nodded almost instantly. Azriel chuckled at your eagerness, a hint of wicked intent flashing through those stunning eyes. 

“Beg for it,” he said softly. “Beg me to eat you out. Beg me to make you come on my tongue. Beg me, bunny and make it sound pretty.”

“I’m begging you to put your mouth on me. Fuck me with your tongue. Feast on me until I cum. I need to feel you,” your words were rushed and desperate, conveying the urgency of your need with every clipped syllable. “Please, sir.”

Azriel grinned up at you. “Now that’s more like it, bunny.” He kissed you through the fabric again, but this time, as he wrapped his lips around your mound, he hit down harshly and the sharp sensation on your clit made you cry out in pleasure. “Hold on tight, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.”

The chains snapped into place as you attempted to touch Azriel, momentarily forgetting about the restraints. He chuckled in amusement, “I get to touch you all I want, but you’re only allowed to watch. You’re entirely at my mercy, remember?”

With that, he yanked your panties down and discarded them behind his shoulder. Azriel gave you no warning before his wicked tongue circled around your clit, flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves while you bucked against his face. The shadowsinger slapped your ass and forcefully gripped your hips in place. 

“What did I fucking say? Stay still or I’ll stop.”

You gasped from the impact of the slap, shaking your head. “Please don’t. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Azriel looked up at you through dark lashes. There was nothing but lust and desire burning within his gaze. “You’re so pretty when you grovel, bunny. I might just let you cum because you asked so nicely.”

“Oh yes, please.”

He chuckled before diving back in, licking a stripe along your slick folds. You were wet, so fucking wet that you were practically dripping all over Azriel’s lips. The sounds you were making were absolutely filthy and your moans only grew loader as he fucked you with his tongue, slipping in and out of your tight hole as he made you loose and pliant with his wicked mouth. 

You’re shaking as Azriel’s scarred hands clamp down on top of your thighs, guiding your pussy over his mouth and moving your hips to a steady rhythm while he devours you with fervor. 

Heat unfurled in your belly and you could feel Azriel pushing you to the precipice of your orgasm. It was close, so close, you could feel the cord of tension stretch taut like the bow of an arrow, ready to notch and loosen, but the feeling deflated when Azriel suddenly pulled away. Your eyes snap open in confusion, desperation written all over your face as you watched the shadowsinger gather your juices from his lips and onto his sticky fingers before sucking up every last drop. He moaned and it echoed through your entire being, the sound traveling straight to your cunt which clenched from the absence of Azriel’s tongue. 

“So close,” you stammered. “I was so close.”

Azriel smirked. “Too fucking bad.” He stalked towards you and one of his shadows darted out to lift your chin. “I hope you don’t think that I’d give in that easily. It’s going to take a lot more than pretty words for me to let you cum.” You whined, causing the shadow to grip you even tighter. “Don’t fucking whine. You acted like a brat and now you’re getting punished like one. Deal with it.”

The shadowsinger circled you, sizing you up like a predator does to its prey. “Now spread your legs, bunny. I’m not done playing with that pretty little pussy.”

You swallowed down your pride and obeyed his command. For once in your life, you didn’t blurt out whatever rude remark that was brewing in your mind. You didn’t stand a chance against Azriel. You fully believed that he’d follow through on letting you hang in this cell if you disobeyed him. 

So you spread your legs, earning a pleased smile from the shadowsinger. He rewarded you with a kiss, a hot and searing kiss that ripped the breath from your lungs. Azriel pushed his tongue past the seam of your lips as he tilted your head back, prodding inside of your mouth until your teeth clashed from the pressure. 

Azriel massaged your breasts, fondling your chest and pushing your tits up as he grinded his hips into yours. You let out a filthy moan and he cursed, pinching your nipple between his fingers. 

“I love your hands,” you confessed, whispering the words into his mouth. “They feel even better than I imagined.”

“You’ll like them even more when they’re inside of you, bunny.” 

As if on cue, his fingers dipped lower, the middle and pointer digits spreading your arousal over your slit. You fought the urge to buck against his hand as Azriel watched his fingers disappear inside of you. His gaze flickered up to your face just in time to see your lips part. 

The shadowsinger smirked before dipping down to suck the sensitive flesh below your ear. As he kissed you, Azriel’s fingers picked up the pace. With two fingers inside of you, his thumb circled your clit and made you shudder into him. Your head fell slack against his broad shoulder, but a whip of shadow titled your chin up.

“Don’t hide your face from me, sweetheart.” His voice was low and rough, its husky tone ensnaring you. “I want to watch you come undone.”

Azriel pinned you with his gaze as he curled his fingers inside of you, drinking in the flush of your cheeks, the hitch in your breath, the sweat glistening against your skin. He could tell that you were close by the way your moans echoed off the dungeon walls. The shadowsinger smirked, slowing his movements just as your orgasm was beginning to build again. 

A sob racked through your chest. You were so close. “Please,” you murmured. “Please, Azriel.”

The shadowsinger brushed a tear that had tumbled down your cheek with his thumb. “You’re so pretty when you beg, bunny.” He kissed your temple, the gesture surprisingly sweet and intimate despite the wicked smile on Azriel’s face. “Maybe I should draw out your punishment a little longer so I can savor the sweet sounds of you pleading to let you cum.”

“Please,” you cried out. “I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be good, I promise.”

A dark chuckle skittered over you. “I doubt that, sweetheart. But since you asked so nicely, I’ll go easy on you this time.” 

You nodded in agreement just as Azriel picked up the pace once again. He captured your lips with a searing kiss, the rhythm of his tongue matching the pulse of his fingers. You felt that familiar feeling building in your core and you moaned into Azriel’s mouth as he curled his fingers within your walls. 

The orgasm came hard and fast, hitting you with a white, blinding heat as stars swarmed your vision. Azriel held you up as you slumped against him, his fingers sliding out of you covered in your own juices. The shadowsinger lapped up your arousal before tapping your lips. You parted your lips and sucked his fingers obediently. 

“Good girl,” he said in a gruff voice. 

Shadows released you from the chains and wrapped you in a dark cloak before depositing you directly into Azriel’s arms. He carried your trembling body as though you weighed nothing. Inky tendrils swarmed the both of you and swallowed you whole. 

Moments later, you found yourself blinking against the soft glow of faelights. Azriel gently set you down on a mattress—his mattress, you realized as you took in your surroundings. You’ve never seen the inside of Azriel’s room before, but it looked exactly as what you might’ve expected. Sleek and elegant with touches of dark wood and rich velvets that felt like a reflection of Azriel himself. 

You watched curiously as Azriel disappeared beyond his bedchamber. The sound of running water filtered behind the door and the shadowsinger was at your side once more, cradling you bridal style as he carried you into the bathing room. He set you down on the marble floor, his gaze filled with a loaded question as he tugged at the cloak draped over your shoulders. 

You held his stare as you let the fabric pool to the floor. The shadowsinger drank you in with appreciation and led you into the marble tub. The water was warm against your skin, making you hum in pleasure. 

“Aren’t you going to join me?” you asked. 

The shadowsinger grinned. “Eventually,” Azriel said, perching on the edge of the tub. He lathered salve onto your shoulders and massaged the tension out of your muscles. “Consider this a lesson in patience. Since you have virtually none.”

“If all of your lessons end in a massage, then you’re easily my new favorite teacher.”

Azriel chuckled. “Was this part of the fantasy too?"

“Kind of,” your eyelids fluttered close as he lathered a lavender scented paste into your scalp. “Though you were wearing less clothing in my imagination."

The shadowsinger gently squeezed the side of your neck and grazed his lips against the column of your throat. 

“Patience, sweetheart. I’ve waited all this time to have you and I intend to savor every second of it.” 

“I’ve never been good at savoring,” you teased. “I prefer to devour.” 

You raked your nails against his bicep and tugged him close, your lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Azriel gripped the back of your head and gently tugged, his hazel eyes flashing dark as he smirked. 

“Good thing we have all night,” he murmured against your skin. “And all morning. Maybe the afternoon, too.” 

You grinned. “What about training?” 

“Fuck training,” he replied cheekily. 

“I’d rather fuck you instead.”

The shadowsinger shook his head in amusement before peeling out of his leathers. You gaped at the sight of him, naked and bare and looking as though the old gods themselves sculpted him out of marble. 

“We’re savoring, remember?” Azriel taunted as he sank into the warm bath water, his wings flaring behind him. He pulled you into his lap and curled his finger through a strand of your hair. 

The shadowsinger kissed you gently, soft and sweet. You leaned into him, sighing. Maybe you could get used to the concept of savoring. 

You hadn’t even realized that you’d said the words aloud until you met Azriel’s amused gaze. 

“Good,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Now that I have you, I have no plans of letting you go.” 

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a greedy little batling?”

“No,” Azriel mused before lightly sucking below your ear. Your breath hitched in response. “Tell me more about how greedy I am, sweetheart.”

“That's not fair," you whined. "You're playing dirty and you know it. Azriel.” 

He flashed you a wolfish grin, relishing the way his name rolled off your tongue. His shadows danced in response as though they enjoyed the sound as much as he did.

“You have no idea,” Azriel whispered. “But you’ll find out exactly how dirty I can get when it comes to you.”

Whatever witty response died in your throat as Azriel pinned you against the marble tub and grinded his hips into you. The instinct to reach for him, to claw and grab and covet pulsed through your veins but the look on Azriel’s face made you pause. 

Eyes like melted gold darkened with lust as he tilted your chin up. 

“I plan to take my time with you,” Azriel murmured, littering kisses along your shoulders. “And you’ll enjoy every second of it. Do you understand, sweetheart?”

Patience had never been your strong suit, but for this male, for Azriel, you were more than willing to play. 

You smiled sweetly, a wicked gleam sparkling in your eyes as the shadowsinger flashed you a predatory smirk. “Yes, sir.”

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

#we're back with a bang #literally though #i missed being depraved on this hell site #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #azriel smut #acotar smut

[bonefall]

What if Fury, instead of trying to kill the boar to claim its teeth, was trying to use it to kill Claw? Perhaps Willowpelt's involvement as Head of Hunting is to help Fury intentionally sabotage the boar hunt so Claw is killed, possibly so Fury can take the tooth of Samwise (if that's something she can do.) If the hunt involved both BloodClan and ThunderClan cats, a failed boar hunt would be a good thing to point to and say "see? we can't work together!"

Anon that's fantastic. I'll do exactly that.

Willowpelt is Head of Hunting and in the perfect position to do something that will make the whole thing go awry. Fury COULD want the Tooth of Samwise, but more importantly? Claw can't rule BloodClan if they're DEAD.

I'll make it so that Claw already has the Tooth of Samwise and feels pretty secure in inheriting leadership because of it. He wants to take part on a boar hunt to reaffirm the bonds between ThunderClan and BloodClan, to show that they will remain allies after Scourge steps down.

If all went well, it would have looked like an accident. Elderberry can be the reason it all went awry, she was a hero type. Makes perfect sense for her to throw herself in harm's way for someone else. Maybe even for Claw himself, practically a stranger.

Though it would be ironic if Elderberry died for Fury... it all going to hell, Fury's plan blowing up in her face, Elderberry dying to save her, only for Ferncloud to end up burying her in the same grave in revenge.

Scourge: "The price for attempted murder in BloodClan is death and you know this, Fury. But in respect to the sacrifice of a Clan cat for YOUR life, and to honor the new era... I will simply strip your rank. You are forbidden from serving as a Problem or a Solver ever again. I command that you live the long life that Elderberry never will, and remember the mercy shown to me that leads to you walking away tonight."

And Ferncloud watches, eerily quiet. As Fury turns to leave, she quietly calls Ashpaw to her, and they slip out the back.

#Ferncloud's Parting #BB!Ferncloud #Better bones au #Also I might just woman beam Claw lmao

[cardansriddle]

Hello, how are you?congrats on 1k!

Fem reader that’s in Slytherin and she’s with her group studying about Care of Magical Creatures class in the forbidden forest And Abraxas malfoy cat called her when she clearly dosen’t like him and she rejects him and malfoy doesn’t like it so he insults her and then Tom Riddle comes in taking up for her

Prompt list - “ Are you jealous”? “ Let me take care of you” “ I don’t need your help”

Thank you 🤍

The Encounter - Tom Riddle

warnings: minor harassment

A/N: I am back and writing your requests for the 1k celebration! Thank you for the request, I loved writing it

༻♛༺

The wind was gentle as it breezed by you with its careful—almost motherly caress against your form. You inhaled the scent of the dew-covered grass beneath your feet as you strode calmly towards the Forbidden Forest with your Care of Magical Creatures textbook clutched in your hands.

Your thoughts drifted as you thought about how pleasant the weather seemed on that particular day, and just as a small smile began to tug at the corner of your lips, it dropped just as quickly when you heard a low whistle sound from behind you. You would have paid no mind to it if it was not for the call of your name. You turned around, looking at the person who had yelled for you.

"Looking good today, eh?" Abraxas Malfoy smirked as he strutted towards you, his herd of friends following closely behind with their own smug grins. 

"How can I help you, Malfoy?" You raised an impatient brow as you watched him stand in front of you but your curt tone did not discourage the boy. 

His eyes dropped down before they dragged slowly all over your body until they reached your face. "Oh, I can think of many ways in which you may help me." The suggestive insinuation did not escape your notice so you just scoffed at his repulsive words before turning on your heel, intending to join your group of friends standing at the edge of the forest. 

Abraxas, much to your dismay, seemed to have other plans, as he took a firm hold of your wrist and tugged you back to face him. "Don't run away, little mouse. I have had my eye on you for a while." 

"Unhand me, Malfoy." You demanded sternly and attempted to pull away from his grip causing him to tighten his fingers around your flesh. "I said, let go of me!" When he did not, you groaned in frustration. "You are a vile bastard." 

The light insult appeared to offend the blonde. His eyes darkened as he leaned down, bringing your faces closer than you were comfortable with. "What did you say?" 

"Oh, do not get your wand in a twist. Now quit being a git and let go of me." 

"You little slag. You think—"

"Release her." A low voice sounded from your side, a voice that you had grown to remember belonged to none other than Tom Riddle. Both you and Malfoy snapped your heads towards him. His composure was calm as he stood there with his hands placed in his trouser pockets, yet you could see that his eyes were alight with an unbridled fury that was directed towards your captor. 

Malfoy, ever the obedient little follower, immediately dropped his hold, and you cradled your bruising wrist with your other hand. Riddle's eyes followed your actions before his gaze landed on Malfoy once again. He tilted his head to the side, glaring at the blonde before he spoke. "Do not touch her again. Am I understood?"

Abraxas could only gulp nervously before he bobbed his head in a nod. "Good. Now leave." Riddle commanded and the Malfoy heir did not hesitate to scurry away from him, his friends following in his steps with lowered heads and no words. 

"Thank you." You muttered, struggling to hold his evasive gaze. "Though I could have handled myself," You stated, though your tone lacked conviction.

His gaze dropped down to the hand you were cradling, the onyx-coloured eyes scrutinising the skin that was already bruising with scepticism. He took a step towards you and slowly as if he was afraid you would leap away, he held out a hand. In turn, you just stared at him with confusion evident on your face.

"Let me take care of you." He muttered lowly, the words carrying along the short space between you and somehow touching the strings of your heart. The gentleness in his tone was one you had never heard him use. 

But you were stubborn so you shook your head slightly. "I do not need your help." 

He scoffed, as if what you had just said was ridiculous and when he spoke again, it was not gentle anymore. It was dark and raw. "I will not allow that bastard's hand to taint your skin. Do not fight me on this."

You watched in silence as he clenched his jaw and fought with himself to keep a calm composure, but you could feel the rage burning beneath his facade. 

"Tom, are you—" You fought back a smile, "—are you jealous?"

"Just give me your hand, you stubborn witch."

You gave in and allowed your lips to form into a small grin before you did as he asked, not missing the way his own lips threatened to curl into a smile as you did so.

༻♛༺

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle one shot #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fluff #jealous!tom riddle #soft tom riddle #jealous tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle mini shot #1k celebration

[captain-mj]

Ooohhh how the general deserved that backhand.

Can we get part two? Maybe shepherd corners graves and price witnesses graves in action? He did say he’d just needs to beat him hard enough. Graves supremacy <3

Maybe price is so in love with graces after he saw him hand shepherds ass to him that he can’t help but bandage his hand and worship him a little bit?

Yeth.... Yeth I can

Part 1

Price followed Graves around after that. He liked to pretend that it was him just watching out for him, but really it was that ever since he had said he'd beat Shepherd into learning, he couldn't take his eyes off him. Not to be a hypocrite, he kept it professional and never touched Graves outside the normal every day brushes a normal person has. Even that was kept to a relative minimum if it could be helped.

Though lately, it really couldn't be helped. Price felt like no matter what he did, they seem to be brushing against each other or pressed right up against each other. Twice during the past week they were stuck right next to each other, Price's chest to Graves's front, on the elevator. Graves would usually lean into him to get away from everyone else and Price had to pretend he was fine and wasn't having a hard time breathing.

Shepherd's behavior escalated and Price was reminded it once again how much of a bitch he was. He continued lingering around Graves and somehow, he ended up with his hand around his back that day. Graves didn't seem to bind, leaning in the smallest bit. Graves had a grin on his face, like a cat who just stole a fish.

A small throwaway comment made by Gaz. "You two look like an old married couple." Quickly had Price pulling away.

"I'm not that old." Graves laughed it off and smiled at Price. He turned back to what they were doing, but Price kept his hands firmly behind his back in a parade style.

Price stepped away from him. Could've only been for a minute. If it wasn't for the fact that it didn't make sense, he would've thought Graves waited until he wasn't around. Shepherd had been rather shameless in his flirting, not particularly caring that he, or anyone for that matter, was right there, but he may have been toning it back. Regardless, whatever happened in those few minutes were lost on Price.

What wasn't lost on him was seeing Graves pummeling him. It wasn't rage or blind fury. It was calculated. He could see the way he made each hit where Shepherd had tried to defend but then left open. A methodical beat down. His body coiled back like a spring before landing the next punch. Something was slightly feral about him that made Price appreciative. Though appreciative of what exactly, he wasn't sure.

Price let it go on a lot longer than he should, but fuck was it satisfying. Graves was a dangerous man. A right bastard at time. But you don't become a commander of an entire mercenary group for no reason.

Shepherd had a lot of blood on him. Unfortunately, it was mostly from his broken nose, not anything else.

He eventually grabbed him, playing up the idea that he had to drag Graves off, even though Graves clearly let him. Didn't even put up a fight. Someone else helped Shepherd to the infirmary.

Graves hung in his arms like a dead weight. He looked incredibly smug, even though his hands were dripping blood.

Price took him to his room. Thanks to his teams... tendencies, he kept bandages and other medical items in his room so they could go to him if for any reason they didn't want to go to medical. Felt smarter than leaving them with nowhere else to go.

Graves stared at him hard until he saw the bandages. He didn't quite relax but there was a quick realization and then his hands were being held out.

Price was gentle. He started with a cloth to wipe away any blood. Most of it was from Shepherd, but several of his knuckles on each hand were split.

"Gonna have to bandage it." He was sure Graves could, but without full use of either of his hands, it would be time-consuming and not as good.

Graves nodded and continued to hold them in front of Price. He winced at the antiseptic. "Stuff is always so cold." Price smiled at him and patted his hands clean again. He slowly wrapped his hand, being as gentle as possible.

Graves was staring at him. Not trying to hide it either. It felt like a weight over him.

"Thank you."

Price just nodded and moved to the next hand. Clean, antiseptic, clean, bandage. An easy thing to remember. He turned back to Graves to talk and they were close. Really close. He could count Graves's eyelashes.

Price glanced at his mouth and Graves noticed, smiling. "You alright, John?"

Price shrugged. "He's going to be so embarrassed. Probably keep his mouth shut about it which is good."

"Why would he be embarrassed?" Graves asked immediately, looking at Price like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"I just mean you're not a soldier." Price quickly tried to explain.

Graves leaned in. "Would you be embarrassed?" He purred it and looked up at him, eyelashes batting.

"No. No, I most certainly wouldn't."

Graves leaned in and Price finished closing the gap. The kiss was soft. There were no fireworks or explosions. It just felt soft. Connection.

"Been waiting for you to do that." Graves admitted when they pulled back.

"I didn't want to come across as creepy." Price sounded sheepish.

Graves laughed and shook his head before leaning back in. They kissed again and Price gently cupped Graves's hands. "You're going to have to be careful. Don't want you to get an infection." He traced the bandaging lightly.

"John, I know how to take care of some split knuckles."

"And yet you let me do it."

"Maybe I just wanted your attention." Graves smiled at him.

Price fought down a blush. "You could just ask next time, love."

Graves visibly froze before turning a gorgeous pink color. "I like when you call me that."

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #Phillip graves #John Price #Captain John Price #Price x Graves #Graves x Price

[fallenclan]

"I'm.. I'm what?" Otterslip feels sick.

Goldenstar narrows his eyes down at him, Maplethorn by his side. The deputy was far less composed than him, her tail lashing about and her tail puffed up.

"Yewberry brought concerns up to me, Otterslip," the leader explains. "He told me how you had snuck out the day Stormsight went to collect herbs, and didn't return late until the storm was raging."

Otterslip's throat feels dry and tight.

"He explained to me how your behavior lately hasn't been adding up. How you've been acting in a concerning matter." Goldenstar sighs. "Otterslip, what he explained to me fits together too much with what I've seen and heard. I know you did not have the best relationship with Stormsight, but to kill him? Your own clanmate?"

"He was NO clanmate of mine!" Otterslip shouts, fur bristling. The gathered cats all gasp, some stepping away. "He let Grassroot DIE! My daughter is dead because of him!"

"It was a dog attack!" Maplethorn hisses. "How can you blame him for an attack not even the most skilled warriors could defend again?"

"He's a healer!" Otterslip yowls. "It's his JOB to heal those that are injured! And he FAILED!" He whips around, glaring at the others in his clan with such ferocity that they all seem to cower. "How can you blame me for doing what's right?! Was the storm not evidence enough?!"

"Starclan didn't want me to be found out! You can't exile me!"

(You know that's not true, the voice deep inside whispers. You've known it's not true.)

"Unfortunately for you, I became this clan's leader by Starclan's will." Goldenstar flicks his tail, unwavering against Otterslip's growing mania. "Otterslip, I hereby exile you from Fallenclan. You are never to return to this camp or to this territory." The leader lifts his head, voice commanding and powerful. "After the next sunrise, any cat who sees you on our territory has my permission to chase you off."

Otterslip feels his body go slack. Whispers and murmers come from all around him, disgusted and shocked. Frightened and scared. Anxious and horrified.

But one stands out amongst his slowly ringing hearing.

"Like mother.. like son.."

His head whips around to Silverbelly, and the fur on his back raises. She seems to cower once she realizes he's looking at her, and in a moment, he's a simple brown blur and no one can hear his pawsteps.

Otterslip crashes into Silverbelly and pins her to the ground. The suddenness has several capable warriors scrambling away, eyes wide. He presses his claws against her throat, snarling. "You'll join your no-good brother in the PLACE OF NO STARS!"

He raises his paw and swing it down, ready to cut open her neck, one final retribution..

Before he's slammed into and sent flying.

For a moment, he envisions the cliffside as he colldies with the ground, groaning as he does. He hobbles to his feet before looking up, mouth falling agape when he sees Yewberry glaring at him with tears in his eyes.

"Leave," his son spits, words dripping with venom. "And never come back. We don't want you here."

Otterslip feels his heart shatter. Shakily, he raises a paw. "Yewberry, s-son-"

Gasps ring out as the tom's head jerks to the side, and he feels fresh blood dripping from scratch wounds on his cheek.

Yewberry exhales shakily, tears falling down his face as he holds up a paw, blood dripping from his claws. "I am NOT your son!" He shouts, voice cracking. "And Ivybounce isn't your daughter anymore, either! LEAVE!"

Otterslip cowers at the fury, and his eyes dart over to where Ivybounce was. She was staring at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. Sleepycloud was embracing her, and he was glarely fiercely at the former warrior.

Feeling the fresh blood dripping down his cheek, Otterslip turns, and silently, paw steps not making a sound, he leaves the camp.

Yewberry hangs his head and sets his paw on the ground, retracting his claws. Blood stains the fur of his paw, and he hiccups.

Above, the sky darkens, and rain begins to fall.

The clan falls silent, nearly everyone closing their eyes. From inside the nursery, the kits peer out, confused.

Their eyes drift up to the gray sky outside, and their ears pin back.

"Why is Starclan crying?" Hopekit murmers.

Hailcrash gently pulls her, and Cherrykit closes. Newtscar doing the same with Ripplekit and Pebblekit.

"Because Starclan is sharing Yewberry, Ivybounce's and Silverbelly's grief," is the soft answer Hailcrash gives, and the kits all fall quiet.

It doesn't stop raining for the rest of the day.

- 🐆

AUGHHH????? AUAUGAVHHHHH.??????? AUUGH???? the. jaguar anon you read my mind with yewberry being the one to figure him out. this is . ohhjhh my gd it's so good I'm chewing and biting and maiming and

this is so canon. whenever I drew otterslip now I will draw him with a clawmark scar on his cheek. oighfhhfh

can we please get a massive round of applause for jaguar anon . they deserve it so much

#the way he tried to go after Silverbelly too..... #fallenasks #jaguar anon #fallenfic

[mysweetlixe]

-Hybrids heart

Summary: Y/N works a clinic specifically for hybrids what happens when eight hybrids with very different personalities end up in her care

Words: 2.3k

Chapter 3: Hybrid Fury

Mark slammed his fist into the desk, sending items flying across the room. His words boomed through the office like thunder as he bellowed, "Where is that blasted Hyunjin?!" His workers cowered in fear, having not seen him this angry since they had lost his prized hybrid two months ago.

Hyunjin was a ferret hybrid which Mark bought for an exorbitant price from an illegal market—he had been desperate to find one. Tabloids and news outlets were rampant with rumors and speculations about where the missing creature had gone, but Mark couldn't care less; He wanted his money maker back.

His assistant Justin shivered in terror as he presented the file of leads on Hyunjin's whereabouts to Mark. Without hesitation, Mark yanked it away from Justin and threw it onto the ground, "I don't want excuses, I want results!" he snarled before marching towards the elevator.

On the way down to the 23rd floor basement, where P.A.W lab was located, Mark's mind raced with possibilities of where Hyunjin could have disappeared to. His anger seething, his fists clenching and unclenching. He would get his prize back if it was the last thing he did.

While Mark was looking for Hyunjin on the other side of town, Y/N was faced with her own issue. "Chan, stop growling and get into the car," she commanded the wolf hybrid.

Y/N had to leave for work; it would be irresponsible of her to let Chan and Hyunjin stay home alone. "I'm not going to the clinic, you know I can't stand that place." As they continued to argue, Hyunjin stepped out of the house

He yawned and stretched his body in the morning light. "Good morning," he asked her cheerfully, "Are we leaving now?" Y/N's heart warmed at the sight of him; she had grown to love him since she started tending to him a while ago.

"Good morning, Hyunjin," Y/N said, relieved to see him healthy and well. "I need to get him into the car, but he won't," she pointed out, referring to Chan. The wolf hybrid huffed in response. "I have some trauma related to labs or clinics," he explained. Y/N's expression softened with understanding.

She knew that Chan had a rough past and she didn't blame him for his fear. But she couldn't risk leaving him and Hyunjin alone; she needed to take them both with her to work.

"Come on, Chan," Y/N said in a soothing voice, trying to coax him into the car. "It's going to be okay. I'll be right there with you."

Chan hesitated for a moment before finally relenting and getting into the car. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Hyunjin, who was already buckled up in the back seat.

"Are you ready, Hyunjin?" she asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replied with a smile.

As Y/N pulled into the parking lot of the clinic, she was greeted by one of her patients " Felix what are you doing out here you should be inside." The Persian cat hybrid

looked up at her with a sheepish expression. "I wanted to surprise you," he said with a small smile.

Y/N laughed and ruffled Felix's fur, "You never stop surprising me, do you?" Felix blushed at the display of affection, but his face lit up when he saw the other two stepping out of the car. He bounded over to them and said, "Hey there! You look pretty cool. My name is Felix."

Hyunjin and Chan looked at Felix cautiously, but Y/N reassured them with a smile. "It's okay, Felix is a friend," she said. "He's one of my patients here at the clinic."

Felix is one of the few clinic  residents that actually live on the premises. When he arrived, his condition was dire and he was barely hanging on to life.

Y/N had taken him under her wing and nursed him back to health, and he had been a loyal patient ever since. "It's really nice to meet you, Felix," Hyunjin said, extending a hand for a handshake. Chan stayed back, still uncertain.

Felix eagerly shook Hyunjin's hand , "Likewise, dude! It's not often I get to meet another hybrid like me."

Y/N led the group inside the clinic, where she was immediately swarmed by patients needing her attention. Hyunjin and Chan stayed back, watching as Y/N tended to each of them with the utmost care and precision.

Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards Felix, who seemed to have a close relationship with Y/N. He wondered if he would ever have that kind of bond with her, or if he was just another patient to her.

As the day went on, Hyunjin, Chan, and Felix spent their time exploring the clinic and getting to know each other better. Felix regaled them with stories of his adventures on the streets before being rescued by Y/N, while Hyunjin shared tales of his life on the illegal market before being bought by Mark. Chan remained mostly quiet, still wary of his surroundings.

As the day drew to a close, Y/N finally had a moment to breathe and check in on her patients. She was pleased to see that they were all doing well, and that they had all taken a liking to Hyunjin and Chan.

"Looks like you two have made some new friends," Y/N said with a smile as she approached them.

Hyunjin grinned, "Yeah, they're pretty cool. Felix especially."

Y/N chuckled, "Felix has a way with making friends. He's always been very sociable." She paused for a moment before continuing, "Hyunjin, can I talk to you in private for a moment?"

Hyunjin's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Y/N's serious tone. He followed her into a private room, feeling the weight of her gaze on him.

"I wanted to ask you something, Hyunjin," Y/N said, her voice soft. "I know that you were bought from an illegal market by Mark. And I wanted to know if you're here because you want to be, or if you're here because you have to be."

Hyunjin swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Y/N's words. He knew that he was grateful to be with Y/N, but he also knew that he was bound by Mark's ownership and his desire for Hyunjin to be a money maker.

"I...I'm not exactly here by choice," he admitted, feeling the weight of his words. "But I'm grateful to be with you, Y/N. You've been kind to me and taken care of me. I know that I'm safe here, and that's more than I could have ever hoped for."

Y/N's expression softened at Hyunjin's words, "You don't have to worry about Mark anymore, Hyunjin. I'll protect you and make sure you're never in danger again."

Hyunjin felt a surge of emotion at Y/N's words. He couldn't believe that someone cared for him so deeply, even though he was just a hybrid bought off the black market.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Y/N smiled at Hyunjin, "You don't have to worry about that. As long as I'm here, you'll always have a safe place to stay."

As they left the room, Hyunjin felt a newfound sense of peace. He knew that whatever happened, Y/N would always be there for him. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he had a true home.

But that wouldn't last long. Outside the clinic, a man wearing all black pulled out his cell phone. "Mark," he said, "he has been located. He is with a woman who appears to be from this clinic."

Mark's voice boomed through the phone, "Excellent. Keep an eye on them and report back to me." He hung up without another word.

The man in black nodded to himself before slipping into the shadows, his eyes trained on the clinic. He knew he had to bide his time and wait for the right moment, but he was determined to bring Hyunjin back to Mark, no matter the cost.

Y/N was getting ready to see her next patient in the clinic when Felix suddenly came in, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm really glad that you invited Chan and Hyunjin here, even if they don't seem to trust me as much as you do."

Y/N chuckled at Felix's comment. "Give them time, Felix. They're not used to being around other hybrids yet. But they'll come around eventually."

Felix nodded in agreement, but his smile faded slightly as he looked past Y/N's shoulder. "Y/N, there's someone outside watching the clinic. I think they're up to no good."

Y/N turned to look out the window, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "Are you sure?" she asked, turning back to Felix.

Felix nodded, his ears perked up in alarm. "I have a bad feeling about this, Y/N. Please be careful."

Y/N thanked Felix for the warning and made a mental note to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. She couldn't afford to let anything happen to her patients, especially Hyunjin and Chan.

As the day wore on, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. She kept her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary, but nothing seemed amiss. It wasn't until later that evening, when she was closing up the clinic for the night, that she saw him.

A man in black lurking in the shadows, watching her every move. Y/N's heart began to race as she realized the danger they were in. She quickly locked up the clinic and rushed back inside, grabbing her phone to call the police.

But as she dialed the numbers, she heard a loud crash from the back of the clinic. Without hesitation, she grabbed a heavy flashlight and ran towards the sound.

When she got there, she saw the man in black standing over Hyunjin, who was barely conscious on the floor.

Y/N's heart raced as she sized up the man, her grip tightening on the flashlight. "Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded, her voice shaking with anger and fear.

The man chuckled, pulling out a knife and twirling it between his fingers. "here for the ferret I'm taking him back home the ceo his his property " he said, advancing on Y/N.

Y/N stood her ground, ready to defend Hyunjin with every ounce of her being. "No you can't take him. He's a living being, with thoughts and feelings just like you and me."

The man sneered, "Save your lectures for someone who cares. I'm taking him back to Mark, whether you like it or not."

Y/N swung the flashlight in an attempt to hit the man's head, but he quickly evaded. He then grabbed Hyunjin and held a knife close to his throat. "If you come any closer I'll hurt him and I don't think you want that." Y/N stayed still, not making a single sound while the man smirked as he pulled Hyunjin towards his van.

Despite her desperate efforts to chase after him, Chan and Felix emerged from the safe room, holding Y/N back. "It's not worth the risk, Y/N. It's just not safe," Chan warned her in a stern  voice.

Y/N's heart sank as she watched the man drive away with Hyunjin. She knew that she had to act fast if she wanted to save him, but she also knew that she couldn't do it alone. She turned to Chan and Felix, desperation etched on her face. "We have to save him. We can't just let him go back to Mark."

Chan put a comforting hand on Y/N's shoulder, "I know, but we have to be smart about it. We can't just barge into their company  and expect to get Hyunjin out unscathed."

Felix nodded in agreement, "Yeah, we need a plan.

Y/N furrowed her brows, "But what plan? Mark is a powerful man, and he won't let go of Hyunjin easily."

Chan thought for a moment before speaking up, "What if we gather some evidence against Mark? Something that would make it impossible for him to keep Hyunjin?"

Felix nodded in agreement, "That's a good idea. We could find something that would incriminate him and force him to release Hyunjin."

Y/N felt a glimmer of hope at their plan, but she also knew that it wouldn't be easy. Mark was a cunning man who covered his tracks well. "But where do we even begin?" she asked, feeling overwhelmed.

Chan took charge, "We start by looking into Mark's business dealings. There has to be something he's hiding that would implicate him."

Felix added, "And we have to be careful. Mark won't take kindly to us poking around in his affairs."

Y/N nodded, "I'll do some research on my end. We'll need all the information we can get."

Over the next few days, they worked tirelessly to gather as much evidence as possible against Mark. They dug through public records to gather as much information they could.

They also reached out to some of Mark's former employees, hoping to uncover some dirt. It wasn't easy, but they didn't give up.

Finally, after weeks of hard work, they found something. A document that proved Mark was involved in illegal hybrid trafficking. It was enough to put him behind bars for years.

Excitedly, Y/N called Chan and Felix to share the news. "I found it! I found something that could help us get Hyunjin back!"

Chan's voice was filled with relief, "That's great news, Y/N. We'll use this to our advantage and get Hyunjin back where he belongs."

Felix added, "We'll go to the authorities and present the evidence. Mark won't be able to deny it anymore."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. She knew that they had a long road ahead of them, but they were one step closer to bringing Hyunjin back to safety.

Taglist: @feybin @hanniemylovelyquokka @queenmea604 @hydroyaksha

#bang chan x reader #changbin x reader #felix x reader #han jisung x reader #hybrid stray kids #hyunjin x reader #jeongin x reader #lee know x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids au #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #bang chan #lee know #seo changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #seungmin #jeogin

[nerdychickshavemorefun]

9 REASONS "THE MARVELS" WAS GOOD ACTUALLY (Spoiler Warning)

-woman with big hammer

-of the two combat-trained named male characters, one is the token 2nd-in-command baddie and literally all he does is throw his queen her hammer. An icon, truly

-a little Indian lady calling Nick Motherfucking Fury "Nicholas"

-"stop crying and let the aliens eat you" as the song from Cats plays in the background

-oops there are consequences for heroism especially when "heroism" is swooping in and beating people up. Turns out it doesn't immediately solve everything and I love when superhero movies actually acknowledge that (but also how far y'all went during your own civil war is not her fault lady take some responsibility for yourself)

-"Are you praying? Well don't stop!" (Inserts random "Amens" as the praying continues)

-Carol's husband, truly a gem of a character

-One of the best and most realistic training montages in the MCU

-Kamala's entire family and their constant sass

#the marvels #marvel mcu #mcu #carol danvers #captain marvel #kamala khan #miss marvel #captain rambeau

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 32: In Which The Tower Begins to Lean

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

"And uh, we have your daughters, Lady Dimitrescu."

"You - what?"

"We have your daughters, but they're unharmed."

Alcina was completely dumbstruck by the words spoken just now, unsure if she heard any of that correctly. 

Anjelica, a lieutenant under Dmitri's command had been the first to call at this ungodly hour to report another collapse in what had now been discovered as a whole new tunnel system under the already compromised cave.

"I-I'm sorry, what do you mean you have my daughters?"

"They were assisting in the exploration, as you'd sent them to do, my lady? They were the first to find the system - "

Blood boiling was a low, minimal, grossly understated, description of the fury Alcina was currently experiencing.

It'd been only two goddamn days since she'd spoken with Dmitri. How had they slipped their way under her nose and escaped to the camp? How had they known about the tunnel to begin with? How had she been so blind as to not notice the absence of her girls? How had she, a mother, been so irresponsible?

"THEY WHAT?!" she screamed, interrupting the explanation coming in from the other line.

Donna and Karl felt the undeniable shards of ice shoot from Alcina's energy field, her shriek a nerve pinching addition.

Donna was mortified the girls were there and had been caught up in this, a thousand and one thoughts of the situation crashing around in her skull, though simultaneously relieved beyond measure they were unscathed.

Karl was doing everything he could to contain the chaotic mix of anger and guilt that was bubbling grotesquely from his gut.

Hey eyes began to fill with blackness, her rage transforming her into the monster no one wanted to meet as she spiraled at the news.

Like a bomb hissing the hint at its explosion, Alcina's voice dropped to an eerie hush, "keep my daughters in your sights. Do not let them go anywhere. I will be there by the end of the day."

Anjelica was unable to respond as she slammed the receiver down with such a clang Donna and Karl jumped. Her nails began digging caverns into the wood of her desk as she fumed to the brink of implode.

"Tell my team they better be hot on my trail to the old tunnels because I am leaving now!" she barked, ripping herself from the cat-like, hunched stance over the phone.

She was gone in a flash.

"Karl!" Donna blurted at the man already dashing after her.

"Don't worry, I got it, I got it!"

Luckily for Karl, Alcina's perfume allowed him to follow her flitting through the vastness of the city, she was faster than lycans by a landslide but he finally caught up to her as she was headed for her exit.

"Alcina!" he called, "Alcina! ALCINA - WOULD YOU FUCKING WAIT?!"

Turning a sharp corner he about ran face first into her chest, "holy fuck!" he cursed, forcing his course change and slamming into the neighboring wall.

"WHAT?!"

"Listen!" he bit back, "I've got a very nice gift for you before you depart that I really feel like you NEED on this particular little venture, so would you chill your shit for JUST A SECOND?"

The black orbs that had encapsulated her eye sockets began to slowly sift away the darkness, her clenched fists relaxed slightly and her breathing mellowed to a point her lips were no longer screwed into a tight grimace.

"Yes?" she replied with a very prominent bite, annoyed at being stopped in the first place.

Karl huffed, "I uh, I made you a new suit. Will you please come with me back to my shop so you can change into it?"

Dropping the last of her guard at the very rare sincerity in his voice, Alcina released the tension in her shoulders, "oh."

The new suit Karl had crafted for her was impeccable. It fit very similarly to the last one but the blackness of the material was unlike anything she'd seen before. It was as ebony and absent of light as a void in space. However, the feel was soft and malleable, it moved well, and it was comfortable beyond measure. As she ran her glassine nails down the fabric on her arm, testing its resiliency, she noted how the material moved similarly to chainmail.

"I know it feels light and basically shreddable, ya know like some catsuit knock off from a shitty Batman movie, but I promise this is... dragon scales tier."

He was so eloquent.

Alcina threw her gaze to him as he scratched his head unceremoniously with his ragged hat, "it looks nothing like that. This is a beautiful piece of work... thank you. I assume you won't tell me what it's made of?"

"Nope! That shit stays in my brain."

"A scary place, I'm sure."

"You know it. Now come on, quit oogling my goods and get your ass moving."

A sharp eyeroll later Alcina was headed to the door.

"Be careful, ferocious predator."

All he received was a limp-wristed wave with her back turned as she ducked though the doorway.

~

Alcina arrived right on time as she had announced. The sun had set not seconds ago and she was now in the warehouse with Dmitri, her girls, and a few soldiers.

The warehouse was not soundproof and the vampires were struggling to ignore the chastising from the Matriarch behind a closed door. Gerard, Mateo, and Elina arrived just in time for the worst of it.

"How could you?!" she scolded, pacing back and forth in the stark, ugly, bleak bunk room at the very back, "how could you all do something like this behind my back?! And how dare you all LIE that I sent you to do this! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?!"

"Mama, please!" Daniella tried, "there's more to it than just - "

"I don't want to hear a word of it! I don't care your reasonings - this is easily the most irresponsible thing you all have ever done."

Cassandra huffed, brushing off some left over dust and rubble, "Mamă, dacă nu eram noi nu ar fi știut niciodată că există un întreg sistem de tuneluri! NOI, noi, l-am găsit!" (Mother, if it weren't for us they never would have known there was a whole tunnel system! WE, us, we found it!)

Alcina's eyes grew dangerously deep as she peered at her middle daughter, her nostrils flaring as she debated how much she could hold back; "Cu toții știați clar despre peșteră când ați ajuns aici și tot ați decis să faceți asta? A meritat gloria? Nu știu a cui idee a fost și nu-mi pasă că a fost o prostie și egoistă! Idiot!" (You all clearly knew about the danger when you got here, and still you decided to do this? Was the glory worth it? I don't know whose idea it was and I don't care, it was foolish and selfish! Idiotic!)

"Egoist? Egoist?" Cassandra tested. (Selfish? Selfish?)

Bela sat upright quickly, "Cass, nu" (Cass, don't.)

"Vrei să discutăm despre egoism?" (You want to discuss selfish?)

"Cass!" Bela hissed.

"Da mamă, hai să vorbim despre asta, ai ști multe despre asta, nu-i așa." (Yes mother, let's talk about it, you would know a lot about it wouldn't you.) 

"Cassandra Dimitrescu - " Alcina warned fiercely, but the strong willed, bull-headed daughter that was so much like her butted right back in.

"E egoist din partea ta să ne ții în întuneric! Este egoist din partea ta să ne tratezi ca pe niște copii - este egoist din partea ta să ne ignori și să te prefaci că nu vedem, auzim sau știm lucruri! Este egoist din partea ta să ne ții lucruri pe care le putem ajuta și de care ar trebui să fim conștienți! Suntem luptători! Așa cum ne-ați antrenat să fim! Nu ne mai tratați ca niște figurine de sticlă care se vor sparge dacă suntem scăpați!" (It is selfish of you to keep us in the dark! It is selfish of you to treat us like children - it is selfish of you to ignore us and pretend like we don't see or hear or know things! It is selfish of you to keep things from us that we can help with and should be aware of! We are fighters! Just like you trained us to be! Stop treating us like glass figurines that will shatter if we're dropped!)

Her voice reached the pitch Alcina's had taken not moments before and she rose from the bench she was sitting on, angry and waving her arm at her sisters, her eyes never leaving her mothers.

"Dacă nu ai fi atât de consumat în micul tău om, poate ai avea o idee despre ce se întâmplă cu noi încă o dată! Poate ai avea timp pentru noi... Dar nu, noi suntem egoiştii?" (If you weren't so consumed in your little human maybe you would have a clue what goes on with us once more! Maybe you would have time for us... But no, we're the selfish ones?)

The silence flooded the room like a tidal wave, slamming down everything in its path.

Alcina stood still as a statue, her eyes locked with Cassandra while the cold pit in her stomach grew heavier and more unbearable. She felt hot.

Finally dropping her gaze from the stare-down with Alcina, Cassandra placed her hand over her mouth and shook her head, "Mother, I'm sorry, I -"

"Tăcere," Alcina stated in the most unfeeling tone the girls had ever heard, "Mateo te va duce înapoi la conac. Vei sta acolo până la întoarcerea mea." (Silence. Mateo will take you back to the manor. You will stay there until my return.)

"Mama -"

"Mateo!" She called, shutting down Bela's voice. As he entered Alcina looked to him with sternness, "take my daughters back to the manor. You will occupy the courtyard with whatever comrades you choose. They are not to leave and no one is allowed to enter. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, my lady." He replied with a curt nod, looking to the girls who were uneasily shifting and moving towards the door. 

With her eyes donning a sharp glance, she watched her girls shuffled by without moving a muscle. Daniella stopped just shy of her arm to touch it gently.

"Go."

~

The camp had progressed impressively since she had been there last and they finally looked fortified to her liking. There was a myriad of artillery boxes lined about and everyone was indeed armed to the teeth. Their readiness might have made her smile, but not tonight.

Dmitri guided her, Elina and Gerard to the new base closest to the cave. Sylvia was there going through photos and some kind of ground scans their men had produced before the newest collapse.

"Lady Dimitrescu," Sylvia smiled warmly at the Matriarch, "a pleasure to have you with us again."

"If only the terms were better. What do you know?"

They spent the next several minutes reviewing the data they had collected before and after the fact, all of which was interesting but still no solid answers to anything at all. The cave and the newly discovered tunnel system was still just as cryptic. When she was told that Angie was also on the frontline of the exploration expedition, Alcina raised a brow quickly and asked for here whereabouts. She had conveniently already made her way back to the underground city. Making a mental note to grill Donna when she got back was moved to the top of the list. Getting ahold of Angie for direct questioning would be as fruitful as catching a slimy fish with bare hands.

"Still no activity anywhere, thankfully. There is still one pocket that we have access to; these print outs here of the scan show that we might be able to slip one person through... if we can safely infiltrate it we might be able to continue our search for where the mutant came from."

Alcina pursed her lips at the suggestion.

"I don't think it is wise," Dmitri chimed in, "we still have no answers as to why the integrity of this place is so compromised or what is causing it. We had nearly the whole team down there when the faulty layers began to give. Had it not been for your daughters exceptional hearing, we might have all been lost."

While that softened her a little, it still left a sour taste in her mouth.

"I want to go down."

"My lady -"

"I want to go down," she reiterated firmly, "I will test the waters, so-to-speak. I may not be the lightest or the smallest, but I am fast and I will be as good as any candidate to push its limits. You will all be right there to aid me if I need it."

Everyone else exchanged glances as Alcina mulled over the scattered photos. Weary of waiting for any verbal confirmation she headed towards the crumbled cave entrance.

"Well?" Dmitri called.

Cramped but carefully navigating her way between rubble, Alcina grimaced as she pushed through some rocks, knocking them over with a cracking crash. Silence. 

"Nothing else is shifting thus far - I believe it's safe to follow."

It was blessedly dark in this stupid cavern and it smelled musty and was dirty. Alcina forced her displeasure aside and was soon joined by Dmitri and Petra, a small lycan who was the true scout on the escapade.

There was very little room to move any which way but forwards or backwards and it was a bit of a steep decline into the tunnel entrance that they were now facing. The pocket in question was directly to the left and Alcina crouched down to examine her next move.

"How's it look? Everything still alright?" Sylvia asked from the comm.

Dmitri huffed, "all fine. We're at the entrance. Will update as we go," he stuffed the comm back in the holster and held his flashlight above Alcina, "I think she misunderstood me when I said I would update her as needed... perhaps it is my accent."

Alcina smirked, "she's eager. I doubt I'd be any less unbearable if I were in her shoes."

"Indeed."

He winked as she peered at him over her shoulder.

After at least half an hour of rearranging rubble and rock carefully as they might, they managed to create an opening stable enough for Petra to slip through.

The moment she slithered her way in, the unfortunate grumble of shifting earth rumbled loudly and with haste Alcina grabbed for Petra, yanked her from the opening just as the rocks came crashing down on the other side.

Dmitri hoisted Petra up and shoved her through the way they came, he and Alcina racing to the surface behind her as everything began to collapse behind them.

Petra had made it out, Alcina and Dmitri were just to the birth of the cave when the ceiling above them came tumbling down. In the blink of an eye Dmitri grasped for Alcina and in his infinite wisdom and instinct lunged for the mouth with barely a split second to spare as the debris came down in a dust cloud that gulped everything up.

-

Your unease had started earlier that evening. Maybe 7, 7:30 or so. 

There had been no apparent reason except that perhaps tomorrow was Monday and you were generally dreading having to go back to work.

Still, you had memories of yesterday and it painted a smile on your face.

Today was Alcina's birthday and you doubted you'd see her tonight, for maybe even a couple days now, what with whatever vampire business was happening, and Donna. You didn't know Donna at all, but the way Alcina mentioned the ass-chewing she may receive upon return from her made you snicker. She seemed spicy but overall concerned and loving of her friend. The thought of what her life was really like down there in the underground kept your brain distracted for a while anyway. You so wished you could be part of it one day. Meet her daughters. Donna. Karl. You'd already met Angie and that was a wild ride all its own, you couldn't help but wonder what everyone else was really like.

The unease didn't really get any better as the night progressed and after a couple of episodes of The Nanny you turned into bed.

You'd wasted an entire Sunday being a complete bump on a log and that was fine.

With Alcina's gloves securely in your grasp as you snuggled into your bed, a small smile resided on your face as the haziness of sleep wafted through you, the image of her wearing the new ones you bought her still beaming in your chest like a bright beacon. You'd give her anything in the world if you could. Anything. And the thought swept you into the darkness.

There was so much blood.

So much blood, everywhere.

It was pungent.

Bodies everywhere. And in the near distance you could hear... crunching. A sloppy sound, lapping, sucking, something... terrible.

Wherever you were the halls were tight, the rooms dense, closed-in, blood on ever inch of every floor. Bodies scattered here and there. Massacred messes of broken bones and torn up flesh, faces, clothing, unrecognizable. 

You tried to be mindful of where you stepped, steadying yourself on the sticky cold walls as you searched out this chewing, crunching, slurping sound.

The building was rumbling. Low at first; like a train was passing by on wobbly tracks - it ebbed - pulsed, long, drawn out, like wind picking up momentum. It seemed as though every step you took was bringing about a harshness of the grumble, and each move you made you expected to hear something crashing to the ground and breaking. And nothing ever did.

Stairs.

Stairs that lead you up but took you down.

And you followed each creaking, shaking, unsecure step.

Down - up - sideways?

Light. Light at the end of a corridor.

A room, where the sounds grew louder and poignant.

The smells were so much more intense and you gagged as you rounded the corner. And there in the room, the only one flooded with red and purple light pouring in from the windows, was a figure hunched with a broken body in its grasp.

More bodies lay strewn in a haphazard manner, limp and bent and broken and rotting in their own dead blood.

The figure growled and began to stand, you froze in the doorway and watched unable to budge.

Tall. 

So tall.

The body dropped from its claws with a thud and white eyes met you as it turned.

Alcina.

She was gaunt. So thin. So much taller. Vicious and sneering at you. Covered in blood from mouth to toe. Fingernails long, protruding from her fingertips like scythes. Teeth jagged, bloody and sharp. 

You wanted to fall back, or call to her to remind her it was you, that it was you, just you. But those white eyes made you immobile. For the first time in your life you felt fear of her, terror, horror, the strongest desire you'd ever had to run from her.

'I am what I am.'

She said, her voice so unlike her own you didn't believe it was her. It was sickeningly sweet, yet bitter and slimy, breaking with a hiss.

'You know what I am - I will kill - I will kill - a monster is what it is.'

She moved towards you like a skip in a video and yet you still could not move from her advance.

'You cannot tame me - I kill - and I will kill you, too.'

Another glitch and she was closer, your breathing laboring harder and harder until you felt you may scream out the fear swelling inside you.

'Run - run - make me chase you, little mouse!'

She lunged.

You screamed.

"Fuck! Fuck!" you shouted as you shot up in bed, huffing and sweating, "what the fuck... what the fuck...." reaching for your phone with the utmost clumsiness, you looked at the screen hastily for a time.

4:55.

"Oh holy fuck," you huffed, still catching your breath, "oh my god... what the fuck."

The sheer terror of that dream was still too potent in your veins and you physically had to get up an out of bed to feel better. Fight or flight had never felt so real in a dream and you hated every second of it. What the fuck was that even about? 

You didn't want to be scared of Alcina. You knew that wasn't real. You knew her. You knew her. 

Fuck that dream, fuck that dream.

You promptly jumped in the shower.

~

Dazed, confused, and exceptionally wired energetically, you found yourself sitting outside on your lunch break, desperately needing silence and alone time.

Rustling overhead finally caught your attention and you looked up.

More than pleasantly surprised to find your crow family had followed you to work, you were now all smile from ear to ear as you shuffled on the bench in the courtyard while they landed and pitter-pattered around.

Today had been too weird for your liking but you were trudging through it. You used every bit of your willpower to ignore your dream altogether and gaslit yourself at every turn that it never happened. Work was wickedly busy and you weren't bitching about it for once.

"Well look at you beautiful little creatures - I uh, I don't have any goodies for you I'm afraid..." you grinned leaning forward on the bench, simultaneously pulling your scarf a little tighter around your neck, "happy for the company though."

The largest, once again, came up to your feet and eyed you with focus. The beautiful black of its feathers flickering the prism of color off the suns rays.

"You all need names," you blurted at the one below you, smiling still, "can I name you, or will I be cursed from the fae world?"

The crow didn't budge at your chuckle so you shrugged and pondered.

"Ok, I'm not even going to attempt to guess genders here, not that they are relevant, but... let's see... you," you stated softly looking at another one approaching you, "how 'bout Ash. Very clever, I know," you giggled, "and you... Onyx? Yeah, I'll be here all week with this brilliance," you said to another coming close, "you - Noir. And you - Shade - and you... how about Obsidian, call you Siddy, or Sidda for short? And... you," you hunched on your knees looking to the largest, the one at your feet, who seemed completely unafraid of you, "Ebony."

The six of them were gathered in front of you in a crescent moon shape. Silent. Almost as if they were pondering you as hard as you were pondering them. Each set of shiny, pitch black eyes watching you watch them.

"Do those suffice?" you asked the group, your gaze settling on Ebony.

Whether it was the faint wisp of a a whisper from the wind, or your own imagination slithering through to take advantage of your unbalanced state, you heard in your ear, clear as day; "yes."

Before you could react they took flight and left you there in silent bewilderment.

-

"LADY DIMITRESCU!"

The shouting and mayhem of everyone closing in with shouts and barked orders galore was quite muffled as Alcina pawed her way out from under a boulder or two. Dmitri was doing the same as the patrol of vampires and lycans reached them with haste.

"Are you alright? Are both of you alright?" 

Sylvia's voice permeated the haze in her skull. "Yes, yes, I'm - I'm fine," Alcina replied taking the hands that had been offered to pull her from the remaining rubble.

Side-eying Dmitri, he nodded his answer of being unharmed and she dusted off her new suit. Not a scratch or a snag.

"We heard the rumbling underground before the collapse - we tried to radio - did it not come through?

Dmitri patted off his uniform and ran a hand through his thick, white hair and twisted his neck with agitation, "no, we did not receive it. Though I'm not sure how that would cause interference."

"You heard rumbling all the way out here?" Alcina reiterated to Sylvia as the soldiers were now investigating the fully concaved disaster behind them.

The lycan commander nodded with a worried expression on her face, "it started from under us and moved in your direction... then spread like spider legs in all directions afterwards."

Silent thoughts and unspoken concern plagued the three.

"Your scan showed no sign of tunnels under the camp and outposts." Dmitri stated.

"Correct. Which makes this all the more baffling. And now we have zero access to anything underground that isn't blockaded by boulders and rubble galore. We can't very well start digging and drilling holes. We've already had a run-in with the Bureau of Land Management; we dropped your name to two officials before their dumbasses got word to fuck off from the higher ups. We don't need more issues with the humans."

Alcina was over this day. 

She scrunched her face as she rubbed her forehead, "does anyone here smoke? I want a fucking cigarette."

"M'lady." Came a gruff voice from beside her not five seconds after. 

A large burley lycan with his arm outstretch held a crunched, half used pack of Marlboros and Alcina plucked one without pause. He flicked open his lighter and lit the end while she took a long, drawn out drag. Marlboros sucked but she wasn't about to be picky.

"Thank you," she sighed out the smoke, nodding in return to him, forcing her focus to the task at hand, "well... I suppose this means more work, more man hours, more dead ends, and less answers and more questions than we ever had to begin with. Does this sound about right?" she questioned flatly.

Everyone nodded.

"Wonderful!"

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #alcina dimitrescu/reader #lesbian #f/f #fanfic #wlw #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Only you could write one sweet moment between the BOH mc and Robert and make me sad about his death

(Gif not mine)

“When Joffrey was little, he cut open a pregnant cat and proceeded to show our father all the dead kittens, lifeless in his small hands. Robert was disgusted by it, yelling at Joffrey until the boy wet himself... the King summoned me to his chambers that night, and I was scared that somehow Joffrey had pinned this whole horrible incident on me. Of course, Robert was drunk when I arrived, but for some reason, he wanted to spend some quality time in my company. I don’t think he meant it, but I remember him plainly stating, behind his wine goblet, that I should wear his crown, that Joffrey didn’t deserve it, but unfortunately it had to be this way. Unless he wanted to repeat the Dance of Dragons, he could never name me his heir.”

‘Black of Hair’ Masterlist

Tag: black of hair got headcanon

When her septa came into her chambers and told her that the King summoned her, Young Y/n nearly burst into tears. Shaking from head to toe, she had to let a maid get her ready, fear evident in the child’s eyes.

There was no other reason King Robert would send for her after today of all days. She bore witness to what Joffrey had done. She saw the bright smile on her little brother’s face as he presented his bloodied hands up to their father. She was forced to stand there and watch Robert’s face go bright red with fury, yelling down at the blond boy until Joffrey ran away crying with a wet spot between his legs. Y/n had cried, too, horrified by her father’s temper, horrified at the sight of lifeless kittens in Joffrey’s small hands and even more so when she later followed the red trail to the lifeless mother.

It was no coincidence that Robert would summon her just after dusk. Normally, he couldn’t be bothered with his children unless their bad behavior was brought to his attention, then he was forced to acknowledge them. Knowing Joffrey, Y/n could only shake in her dress and weep as she walked to her father’s chambers, almost positive that her brother blamed her for today’s incident. Ser Barristan stood guard at the King’s door tonight, and he flashed a gentle smile at her when he opened the door and announced her presence to Robert.

The King peered up from his desk, rosy in the cheeks but not from anger this time. Y/n immediately spotted the large pitcher of wine and two goblets sitting beside it, stiffening up with the idea of the drunk king punishing her for Joffrey’s accusations. Robert nods for Ser Barristan to leave and then stands once the door closes behind the young princess, beckoning her to step forward as he grabbed a chair and placed it front of his desk.

“Come, girl. Sit,” his usual strong, commanding voice slurred, but Y/n still winced in fear. No matter if the king was drunk, even his normal voice was still a mighty storm in comparison to his children’s quiet, innocent voices. The King could offer the children sweets and they would still feel wary from his voice. 

Nevertheless, Y/n snuck forward, not one to deny her King’s demand. She may be fearful, but she was still courteous. She sits down in the chair opposite of his, lowering her gaze to hide her big, pink-rimmed eyes. Robert observed the way she played with her fingers and noticed her little nose turned pink before relenting his usual demeanor. Sighing through his nose, the King reaches for the wine pitcher and pours two glasses, “You’ll be a woman grown soon. I think you’re old enough to have a glass of wine. Here.”

She peers up and he spots her unshed tears. Hesitantly, she takes one of the offer wine glasses and whispered, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

“Heh,” Robert chuckles to himself, swirling the wine in his cup and watching it with enough interest so Y/n could secretly wipe her snot with her sleeve. Once he knows she would no longer feel embarrased once he looked up, he did so and sat down again, “I suppose it’s strange if you called me anything but. Not that I deserve being called your father. Did you know Jon Arryn was like a second father to me?”

Her eyes squint curiously at the mention of his Hand before shaking her head before her father continued, “I was fostered to him at a young age. I do believe he cared for me more than my own father did. Jon Arryn didn’t have any sons but us.”

“Us?”

“Ned Stark and myself,” Robert trailed off, his eyes fixing on a spot in the room, mind wandering to a long distant past in recollect, “We were like brothers. If I recall, he has a few sons and daughters now. I’ve never met any of them. He even has a bastard son that he likes raising. I think that boy is close to your age if not a little older... that’s the kind of brother I am,” he huffs amusedly, “A drunken fool who doesn’t keep tabs on any of his old friends let alone his own flesh and blood.”

He gulps back some wine while Y/n shifts in her seat, the young girl trying to reassure him, “You’re the King, Your Grace. Surely your brothers and the Warden of the North understand you have the matters of the realm to tend to.”

“Oh, yes,” he chuckles thinly, “Far too busy ruling a kingdom underneath my cups and whores.”

He glanced over just in time to see Y/n lower her gaze again, shrinking in on herself. Even he could admit it wasn’t the best language to say in front of a child, and so he relents again, lowering his voice while staring back at his cup, “Joffrey will not be a good king.”

Y/n dares to peek back up at the King once his voice sounded softer. He almost sounded defeated or full of resentment, she wasn’t sure, but she kept her mouth shut as Robert dragged on, “I see that now. After today... part of me wonders if I was the cause of that. Had I tried to nurture him like a father should--”

He chokes, coughing to clear his throat and then proceeded to soothe it down with more wine. Y/n decides that she should drink, too, bringing the cup to her lips and taking an experimental sip. She doesn’t like what she tastes, pulling the cup away and making a face at the liquid as if it offended her. She coughs and nearly jumps out of her seat when Robert laughs. Looking up, she was moritified to see the King watching her drink, clearly amused by her first sip of wine. Heat rose to her face and she bows her head, embarrased. She sets her cup down on the desk and let Robert’s laugh fester until it finally dies down. Robert’s amused expression slowly sobers up, a thoughtful look in his eyes gleaming under the drunken haze. He sets his cup down, too, avoiding her little face as he softly spoke, “It should be you to wear my crown, not him. He doesn’t deserve it. But you do. You’re my firstborn. You even look like my mother in a certain light. You should be my heir...”

Y/n looks up, eyes wide and jaw dropping at the confession. Robert looks up as well, watching her innocent face turn conflicted until he decides to tamper it, “But it has to be this way, I’m afraid. It’s no ones fault but the gods for making you a girl.”

The princess, oh, the sweet, innocent princess. Still naive and unaware of how the game is played. She tilts her head curiously at her father, and he forces himself not to smile at her innocent gaze as she spoke, “Forgive me, Your Grace, it might not be my place to say. But what does it matter if I’m a girl?”

“Haha!” He couldn’t help it then. He laughed at the curiousity of children, “Unless I want to repeat the Dance of Dragons, I cannot name you my heir in replace of your brother.”

“But we don’t have dragons, my King.”

The small statement sobers Robert up quickly enough, stiffening in his chair as the ghost of the drunken king shadows over his eyes, “No... but you don’t need dragons to start a war between a brother and a sister. You don’t need dragons to divide seven kingdoms. You don’t need dragons to butcher thousands of people to win over a silly crown and a throne made of swords,” he leans forward and points a menacing finger at his daughter, “I may be a drunken fool, but you listen to me and you listen good, child.”

Y/n straightens, still so small in her chair, her feet barely touching the ground. Robert tries not to reprimand himself and remembers to make his point across and make sure she listens, “War is meaningless. Taking the Iron Throne is meaningless. It’s meaningless if you sit on that throne with a pile of bodies at your feet.”

“Your Grace... I don’t understand.”

Of course she doesn’t. She’s a child. The one time Robert tries to be her father and he’s too harsh and spouting nonsense. The one and only time he tried, and he fails. Robert huffs, defeated, leaning back in his chair and snatching his wine glass from the desk, “No... I suppose it’s not something a child is fit to understand. Not yet. Do yourself a favor, girl, don’t listen to me. I’m just your drunken sire who doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

She couldn’t help the words from following out of her mouth, muttering under her breath, “Seems like you do.”

He laughs, despite her rudeness. It’s a cruel laugh; not as genuine as the ones prior, “You’ve got your mother’s bite. I’m not sure what you’ve got of mine. To be honest there’s not much you’ve inherited from me except for the eyes and hair. Perhaps that’s a good thing.”

The air is thick with awkwardness, the moment passed and disappearing into the night. Robert clears his throat, now uncomfortable by her innocent stare as he looks away, “Go now, girl. Say your prayers, get some rest.”

She doesn’t dare deny the order of freedom, jumping to her feet and hastily reaching for the door. She has half a mind to want to turn back and wish him goodnight, to lean over and kiss his cheek as sweet little Myrcella once used to do. But Y/n forces that thought down. Even Robert knows that he’s a stranger to his children, so she doesn’t need to try and convince him otherwise. He can be sad and drunk all he wants, and he knows he’ll get no pity from his sons and daughters.

Y/n returns to her chambers but tosses and turns in bed all night, the events of that day spiraling in her head. The next morning, she feels sick from lack of sleep and the consumption of her first glass of wine. She begs the septa to stay in bed and the paleness of her skin and bags under her eyes is enough to convince the septa of this. By noon, a maid walks in with a tray of sweets and tells the princess that it’s from her father.

The tray is set before Y/n and she inspects them. A cup of sweet tea, a small platter of berries and a bowl of chocolate pudding. The King no doubt heard she was sick in bed and sent this up to her, but by what motive he had, Y/n wasn’t sure. Was he feeling guilty for all those confessions he dumped on her lap last night? Maybe he wanted to bribe her into not telling Queen Cersei that he gave her wine the night before? Perhaps he wanted to give her a gift of good faith and a promise that what they spoke of the night before remained between them?

Whatever the reason, the gesture wasn’t because he wanted to be a good father. Y/n was very sure of that.

#robert baratheon #joffrey baratheon #robert baratheon headcanons #game of thrones headcanons #black of hair got headcanon

[nrhshm]

Grandpa Whitebeard Hcs!!

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎■▪︎■▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

Child is Gn. Use your dang imagination people!!

This legend, is a top tier on my list of favorites~! I hope I did him justice with this one.

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

Oh boy, Whitebeard's grandchild just got born. A new addition to the family? Flesh and blood from the all mighty father himself?!! You know what that means-

!!!! PaRtY TIME !!!!

Lets be fair tho, the Whitebeard Pirates would use any excuse to throw a party, they're ALWAYS partying. Yet this is different... THIS IS BIG !!!

Pops just wouldn't stop smiling. All he talks about now is his newborn grandchild, he'd even call on a full commander meeting just to pick a perfect name for the baby.

And once the child is released from the ship's nursing room, this old grandpa will be doting on 'em nonestop. Filling the Mobydick with all sorts of toys and castles, even some walls might be painted in a brighter color so that "the baby wouldn't get traumatised."

All fun and games until reality hits them hard, they are pirates, notoriously famous at that. So they're constantly targeted by other pirates or pirate hunters. And when that does happen, the whole crew is in total offense mode.

The crew's usual go-to plan is trying to find potential crewmembers or deposing off enemy ships entirely. But when an offender dares to lay a finger on their precious bundle of joy, they'll be raining hellfire on earth if they leave the battle alive. Torn to shreds by Marco's blazing kicks? Skinned alive by Vista's deadly swords? Burnt to the bone till they're nothing but ashes with Ace's scorching flames?? Or even worse, sent into the darkest pits of hell by Whitebeard's strike of fury?!!

In a nutshell, do not, I repeat- YOU. DO. NOT. mess with Whitebeard's grandchild, if you value your dear unfortunate life.

Growing older, the young pirate would be basked in everyone's caring nature. Whitebeard would have his sons stay with them incase he couldn't, he'd sometimes order the commanders to entertain the child, you might even see Ace goofingly scurrying around the ship after the others, then diving headfirst onto the ground when his narcolepsy kicks out in a simple game of tag.

You'd see the Mobydick's whole atmosphere changing, Thatch constantly cooking the kid's favorite meals, even making time for fun culinary lessons and food art. Marco would welcome the child to his office, storing their favorite books, maybe even halting his work process just to read them a tale regarding mythological creatures and ancient theories.

Ace on the other hand, would be the 24/7 shopping delivery service for the kid's expenses. They want a toy castle? Here you go! They want a pony? He'll sail the seven seas if necessary! The child asks for the world's largest cat?? Well, why not go ahead and ask for five??

Whitebeard would read the child to sleep, definitely not a storybook. Nuh uh, this man would be recounting his past adventures with a proud grin on his face, narrating various battles he'd fought and conquered mightily. He'd fondly watch his grandkid's reaction grow from mere curiosity, to absolute fascination for their old grandpa.

"Don't worry kid, I see a bright future for you in the new era! You'll meet lots of good people. You'll fight only the strongest!! I'd expect nothing less from my grandchild. Well, you can call it a grandfather's hunch - GURararararara!"

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece scenario #portgas d ace headcanons #ace #one piece fanart #monkey d. luffy #one piece ace #luffy headcanons #mugiwara no luffy #whitebeard pirates #op whitebeard #whitebeard one piece #whitebeard crew #whitebeard x reader #whitebeard #whitebeard headcannons #portgas d. ace #portgas d ace x reader #marco the pineapple #marco one piece #thatch #thatch one piece #marco x reader #ace one piece #marco the phoenix #grandpa whitebeard #op imagines #op hcs #one piece imagine

[bonefall]

What Revelation did each leader get?

Gray Wing coming down from Heaven to bring revelations to the founders

To each founder, xe admonished the flaws that had lead them there on that day. Xe warned that if they did not change their ways, it would be the undoing of themselves as well as their Clan.

To Thunder Storm...

He had never heard the sermons of Gray Wing in life, and yet, he knew xeir teachings better than any of the cats many years his senior. He was already a leader when he should just be leaving his boyhood, and he'd gotten to this position by challenging that which he had been told, and acting in righteous fury when others held their tongues.

So for him, Gray Wing the Wise tells him that he is about to enter a new era. He will not be an underdog, but a powerful warlord, and he must must be weary of the line between justice and revenge.

"The flame that cooks creates, but beware the wildfire that burns away the wood. When you act upon your rage, you must be sure it does not act upon you."

To River's Ripple...

You have only ever acted on pleasure. For passion of your friends, for love of food, desire of things that shine. Like a petal on the river, you have let the flow of life lead you. It lead you into the claws of Clear Sky, your father and his army here to save you, and a dozen cats into their graves tonight.

Though you've tried to avoid it, you must realize now that the lazy river ripples with power in every muscle. Your people will look to you now, just as the water flows through the canal it has carved.

"The peace within you is unique, and meant to be shared with those around you. This is a strength; it is your truancy that is a weakness. Accept the responsibility of being the river that flows, or your own weight shall wash away your kingdom."

To Tall Shadow...

This is where xe began to get angry, but the black-furred leader bowed her head humbly.

Gray Wing laid into how she had used xis name to justify her own ends, putting clan-interest above forest-prosperity, making outsiders out of cats xe had commanded to enfold. She had turned cats into pawns for bargaining, and lost sight of their lives in the process.

"You have failed to break your own legacy, and will watch as someone you love is broken upon it. This is not a threat but a warning; make your heart a refuge for the lost and weary, for you will be judged on how you pick up the pieces."

(TN: "Dark Heart of the Forest comes from a translation quirk here, xey tell her to 'shade her heart' which in Clanmew means to make it a relief from the hot sun.")

To The Wind Runner...

Ambitious, opportunistic, and vindictive. She united many cats who had broken off from the River Kingdom, but only invented a brand new cage for them all. The Wind Runner was out for herself and her own family-- total self-interest.

To her, Gray Wing was furious but simple; "You came for a taste of war and now you choke on it. If you keep treating your cats as tools for power, you will find hounds behind you. It's time for you to serve them instead of having them serve you; let go of grudges, open your mind, grow."

To Clear Sky...

Lulled into a sense of smug security, he had relaxed. After all, at the end of the day... it was all their fault for trying to take what was supposed to belong to him. He was just trying to make sure his cats never go hungry; his littermate would see that.

"LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT"

"This all comes back to you, Clear Sky. You did this."

"What?! They were the ones who--"

"You killed our brother, Jagged Peak! Rejected a sign from your ancestors and twisted my words to suit yourself! Tried to kill your own mate and son!"

"I WAS JUST TRYING TO--"

A final clap of thunder shook the clearing. Perhaps Clear Sky could shout down anyone else who tried to stand up to him in the past; but not the Ancestors. Not at a graveyard of his own making.

"Never before have you truly listened to another person, nor changed your mind once you'd made it up. Do not take our mercy as foolishness, you will decide if my words are warning or prophecy. Your greed will split the sky in two, but the more you grab, the less you will hold. Greed will make all the gifts we will give you rot beneath your own pelt; Unite or Die, Clear Sky."

Before xey finish, they repeat it to all of them. "Unite or die."

After this, they explain that their next task is to properly bury all of the victims of the fight. As reward, each leader will be given nine lives to lead their people, and explore that which was revealed on this night.

Each revelation ties into what the leader will be doing next. Most are prophecies, some are just guidance. Like Gray Wing said; it is up to them if the words are warning or prophecy.

#BB!DOTC #Thunderstar's Justice

[alexanderlightweight]

for Wednesday’s writing prompts, can I have something based on the song Little Boy in the Grass by AURORA?

i'd never heard this song and it was so lovely and melancholy and bittersweet and so i hope you enjoyed this, i quite enjoyed listening and writing.

-

Magnus lets them get away with six hours of putting him off — six hours too long — before he ignores them all and portals in.

He’s not supposed to be there, Cat is there with a team specializing in healing and his magic could have affected whatever drug had been unleashed, but Magnus doesn’t care anymore.

If there is one thing his magic won’t do, its bring more harm to Alexander and so Magnus refuses to just sit around any long.

“Where’s your Commander?” He asks the first stable nephilim he sees and they look at him and shrug, all of them do when he asks.

He gets to Cat in a fury and he’s seething. “Did you know he was missing?”

“What? Who is missing?”

Alexander!” Magnus snarls and Cat stops what she’s doing, using a spell to stabilize and ignoring that her patient only has one working lung. 

This is more important. 

“Magnus, his siblings told me he was fine. I haven’t seen him once.”

Magnus murmurs an apology that Cat nods at, understanding how frustrating it can be to be told to wait only to find out you’ve lost something while waiting. 

Izzy and Jace seem confused, almost amused by his worry and assure him that Alec is probably just working. That they’d seen him and he’s seemed fine. The poison elevated fear, anxiety, and paranoia. Alec hadn’t been showing any symptoms. 

“Since when does your brother let the weight he bears fall on the shoulders of others, especially you too?” Magnus asks harshly and he feels his heart beat triplicate with anger. 

Izzy and Jace wince and start to speak but he holds up a finger and they stop. 

“I’ll find him myself,” Magnus says and turns in a storm of his coat whirling around him.

He finds the signature of Alexander’s soul, the connection echoing his own and portals to him. Magnus has to take a quick breath and use his reflexes to steady himself. He’s up high, in the beams of the Institute’s greenhouse ceilings. Where it’s dark and cool despite that it should be warm. 

He spots a form, huddled and curled on a small wooden loft, the structure overflowing with grass, moves and vines and Alexander tucked tightly away. Hidden from view from the covering of plants.

“My love,” Magnus murmurs, “what do you need?”

“I didn’t think I’d have to feel this way again.” Alexander whispers hoarsely, “I thought it was done. That I’d never have to remember so vividly.t Sometimes I just wanted to run Magnus, but I couldn’t. Because I had to protect Izzy, my parents were counting on me and then Jace needed someone so very badly. But I wanted to flee, to run and never look from the hands that reached out. It wasn’t the training, it was the inbetween. When I was supposed to be safe, because I was never safe.

“Not here, not where there was only disappointment and pain and bearing the weight of a sin I didn’t commit. Why Magnus? Why do I have to remember this? I thought it was over. I thought I was over it.”

“Oh, Alexander.” Magnus breathes out and he moves over and slowly brings Alexander into his arms. “My sweet, precious darling. You need to heal to be able to move on from something like that. And you’ve never truly had the chance to.”

“Then when will that happen for me? Because I thought it had, Magnus. I thought I was doing better, feeling better. But now it’s not, like I’m right back there in the middle trying to protect everyone else when I’m breaking and I don’t know how to stop. When am I supposed to heal?”

“Right now, darling.” Magnus promises and he extends his magic, purging the poison from Alec’s system in a way that his magic would never work with another. He lets his magic dim the greenhouse and lights it with little fireflies of magic that float and buzz around them instead as the door locks.

Alexander is calmer now, breathing easier but his voice is wet and he gives a hoarse chuckle at the sight. 

“Just us beloved, now tell me. Of all your wishes that you locked away, when it became too much, when it was bearable. I will listen to you and keep you safe.  This is where you ran, wasn’t it?” 

“No one thinks to look up, but it was the first lesson I learned as an archer.” Alexander smiles, lopsided and raw. “So I used my training for myself, it was the first time I ever had.”

Magnus mourns in his heart and hides the pain he feels, because it is his choice to bear this burden, in order to help Alexander carry his because his hurt is born from Alexander’s pain.

#shadowhunters #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #lumine writes #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #shadowhunters au #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets