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asnowfern · 10 months

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Why Do My Gods Look Just Like You?

Summary: Turns out, the statue that Mor has been confiding to isn’t just a statue. Emorie. Modern AU.

Read on AO3

A/N: This has been bouncing around my head for a while and June seems like a good time to finally write it🌈🌈🌈

The night was quiet as Mor sneaked a final glance at the distracted guard, slipping past the counter. She easily navigated through the familiar layout of the exhibition entrenched in darkness, breathing out a shaky sigh of relief as she exited out of the building's back exit. Her lips automatically pulled up into a smile as she spied the white stone statues peeking through the gardens behind the pasty yellow Victorian buildings.

Her head swivelled left and right to look out for any patrolling museum personnel as she quietly ran towards the trees, reaching her destination without any hiccups.

She looked up at the three statues, identified via the small rusty gold plaques at the bottom. The Valkyries from ancient Pyrthian myth.

Gwyn of Song

Nesta of Flame

Emerie of Flight

She passed the first two statues, silently admiring the beauty carved out of stone. She eventually landed on Emerie. Because it was always Emerie that Mor was drawn to, like a moth to a flame.

Emerie of Flight. Her face was turned away to look in the distance as her wings spread, ready to take flight. Mor would stare longingly, wishing for her own set of wings that could lift her up and out of her life. Away from her family's impossible expectations and controlling nature. Being the daughter of the governor meant that she was constantly scrutinised. From her grades and after school club activities to trivial nonsense like her appearance and her dating life.

It was the thought of the latter of the two that had Mor sighing once more as she crumbled downwards and hugged her knees on the ground.

"I told him," she said in the barest of whispers, "I told him I'm not marrying Vanserra."

She looked up into the fierce determined face of the winged warrior, willing the courage of the famed Valkyries to flow into her as she confessed the words that she never dared to voice out, not even to herself, "Because… I like girls and it might crush me to marry him."

The words seemingly bounced around the statues and settled into the leaves and branches of the nearby trees.

Because there it was. The truth she denied herself for so long.

"I like girls," she whispered again, slightly louder this time, relishing in her newfound honesty.

She breathed in deeply, a small incredulous laugh bubbled out in the exhale.

It was like she could breathe.

She felt free.

"Is that so?" Asked a teasing voice that was so angelic, so lilting.

Mor snapped her eyes open. When did she even close them?

"Wha-" the word remained incomplete, stuck in her throat as she registered the ethereal belle before her.

Her brown skin glowed gently in the moonlight as luscious ebony locks swept into a simple braid rested against her chest. Her wings flexed outwards before tucking in behind her, drawing attention to the leathered armour that hugged every dip and curve of her body. Mor wondered dimly if they were comfortable.

"So is that so?" She questioned again as playful brown eyes twinkled at her.

"So what?" Mor felt her face flushed slightly as the words escaped her.

Emerie tilted her head slightly, "That you like girls"

"Yes," she breathed, still amazed at how natural it felt.

A smile enveloped the Valkyrie's face and Mor thought she had never seen a more beautiful vision in her life, "Good."

Mor stood up numbly, slightly trembling hands reached out on their own accord, pausing a mere inch before the brunette's face.

Are you real?

A soft warm hand covered hers and closed the narrow gap between them. The blonde gasped softly, relishing the feel of the soft skin. Even in the dim light of the night, she could see the specks of gold dancing within the deep brown pupils of Emerie's eyes.

"Have you been listening the entire time?" She whispered, afraid that anything louder would break the spell cast over them, "All those nights too?"

Emerie's playful expression melted into a softer, tender one, "I've been here the whole time."

Mor's face lit up. Somehow, the knowledge that she was never alone with her struggles lightened a weight inside. She impulsively tugged Emerie's hand downwards, holding it in a firm clasp by the side of her waist.

"Let's go!" She exclaimed and pulled her Illyrian angel with her, jogging towards the museum.

Emerie snorted but let herself get dragged away, "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere!" Mor shouted, her face still split in a white smile.

She froze as Emerie circled one arm around her waist, holding her tightly. Mor looked back with wide eyes, her heart hammering away wildly.

"I have a better idea," Emerie told her, her eyes glittering with mischief, "Fancy a flight?"

Brown eyes met brown eyes as the agreement slipped out of her lips. Without another second, Emerie's grip on Mor tightened and they took off into the sky.

Mor opened her mouth but no sound escaped, cut off as she got lost in a myriad of sensations. The wind in her hair, the cool air against her face, the light mist that gathered at her fingertips as she ran them through the clouds. Beneath them, Hewn City got smaller and smaller, dissolving into nothing more than dots of lights.

Mor giggled as the exhilaration built up, turning the giggle into a joyful laugh. Beside her, Emerie grinned widely, "Let's take it up a notch."

The blonde yelped as the Illyrian dived them into a near freefall before launching into a series of loops. The shock quickly turned into elation.

Eventually, Emerie landed them on top of the Moonstone Manor, the both of them perched precariously on the sloped roof. Just above the window of Mor's room.

"Thank you," Mor said breathlessly, her chest still heaving from the thrill of the flight.

Emerie replied with a smile so tender that her heart skipped a beat. She leaned in, her eyes asking the question her mouth wasn't ready to voice.

With a soft puff of air, Emerie closed the gap between them, pressing soft lips together in a kiss so light and gentle. Mor sighed, sucking on the bottom lip and swiping a tentative tongue. She felt the brunette's smile before hands entangled in blonde tresses and pulled her in closer. Lips parted in an exchange of tongue and teeth.

If Mor had accidentally found herself in heaven, she knew that she never wanted to leave.

When they broke apart for air, their foreheads pressed together, chest rising and falling in unison. Behind them, a sliver of gold peeked over the horizon, announcing the arrival of dawn.

"Get yourself out of here," Emerie said somberly, the words seemingly breaking the magical spell they've been under.

Mor shook her head as the world swayed beneath, her body swaying with it. "No," she protested weakly, "What's happening?"

"Velaris, Mor"

Emerie's voice bubbled from a distance as an unimaginable weight bore down on her eyelids, forcing them shut. "Go to Velaris."

The next time Mor opened her eyes, she was back in her bed. She rolled back on her back, faded visions of flying and kissing literally the woman of her dreams flashed across her mind.

She held onto them as she grabbed for her phone and dialled a familiar number, "Rhys, it's Mor. Wake up. I need a favour."

***

Mor stepped out of the train and onto the crowded platform. Almost immediately, a rushing commuter rammed into her causing her to fall back a few steps. Horror streaked through her as she felt her back roughly hit a soft surface. Warm fingers wrapped around her shoulders to steady her. Mor turned, her apology poised and ready.

"I'm sor-"

The words died at her lips as her breath hitched. The ambient noise of the train station faded to the background, overtaken by thundering heartbeats.

The wings might be gone, the leathered armour replaced with a black leather jacket, graphic tee and jeans. But there was no mistaking the Cupid's lip, the high cheekbones and glowing brown eyes.

"Hello, Mor. You made it."

#emorie #emorie fic #acotar #emerie of illyria #morrigan #What even is reality?#happy pride 🌈

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yazthebookish · 9 months

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I also want to collect titles to give a shout out on bookstagram since I often get asked about fanfic recommendations.

So don't be shy and let us know 🥰 These are the most popular ships but if you also have fics for different characters that's fine too!

#gwynriel #elucien #feysand #nessian #emorie #acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction

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wolfish-nightmares · 2 months

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The Four Faces of Death

Pairings: Hannigram x reader x Collectkin

Warnings: violence, gore, bad language, sex, cannibalism, 18+

Category: Angst, fluff? Smut.

Summary: Your life is shattered and changed between the hands of four of the most dangerous killers.

Silentium Est Aureum - Silence is golden in the black eyes of death

Mortem Obire - Death is always the hardest to face.

Deus Pascit Corvos -

Semper Invictus -

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doomh3ad · 2 years

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slashers + pet names (pt2) [including michael myers, asa emory, pinhead, brahms heelshire]

Michael Myers

-he doesn't speak, but he comes across you watching tv, looking happy at your favourite on-screen couple interacting. he hears them exchanging love confessions then notices your almost wistful sigh at the pet names they use.

-in his head, he now refers to you with the pet names he's seen you like. whatever your favourites are, he'll think of you as. sometimes he tilts his head curiously, or in acknowledgement when you call him a pet name and you can tell this is his way of calling you one back.

Asa Emory/The Collector

-you guessed it, anything bug related. ladybug or ladybird, butterfly, mantis, cricket, little bug. also, "pet", "toy" or "plaything" if you know him as the collector. he also likes "mouse" on occasion

-uses specific scientific names too. you're his gorgeous lepidoptera, his plecia nearctica (love bug). he definitely annoys you and makes you second-guess which names are real and which ones he's just made up. let's hope you're a sucker for taxonomy!

Pinhead

-we know he's a classy guy. despite being a hell priest, he's a total gentleman and treats you as such. you're his darling dove, his greatest love, his precious treasure, his everything.

-he is a demon to some, angel to others; you're just his angel. he can wax poetry about your tormented, captured, free, pure soul and how it is the perfect antithesis to his, and you'd listen to it all. you are his other half, what completes him, the yin to his yang.

Brahms Heelshire

-another pretty classy guy, he'll call out for you in that deep gravelly voice using rather quaint pet names. he gets most of his general ideas of romance from the old fashioned songs and books his parents raised him with and so his pet names for you follow suit.

-you are his beloved, his intended, his soulmate, his dear heart, his one and only love. he's your gentleman caller. i can also see him slowly using more modernised pet names although he prefers the classics.

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vigilante-izuku · 1 year

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i’m really not into the fandom’s characterization for asa emory (the collector). so here are a few of my hcs about the bug guy.

HE’S LATINO. idc the dude who portrays him in the sequel isn’t. i’m ignoring it.

he’s weird. like he’s obviously a freak when he’s uh...collecting. but he’s a weirdo (affectionate).

he’s an entomologist, probably followed in his father’s footsteps and works in a museum.

has major daddy issues.

he’s a loner. doesn’t really speak much unless he has to. except when he’s talking about bugs, he gets really passionate and could talk for days on the subject.

doesn’t socialize with his coworkers either. (they’re creeped out by him. thinks he’s weird but harmless since he’s so gentle with the bugs. convinced he wouldn’t harm a fly. and they’re right he WOULDN’T harm flies. human beings on the other hand...

he’s bisexual but struggles with internalized homophobia.

the chemical exposure from the childhood incident with his father is why his eyes Look Like That. probably wears contacts to make his eyes look normal when he’s at his daytime job.

i cannot picture this man being charming and suave. he makes people uncomfortable (possibly on purpose, maybe he doesn’t even realize it). although will put on an act to slip under the radar.

you’re THE exception when it comes to his violence. this man is not the most affectionate. he’s cold and often stares at you like he’s examining a bug. but he loves you. obsessed with you. you’re his most prized part of his collection.

you’re not a former victim. in fact, he meets you somewhere outside of his collecting “hobby”.

he doesn’t understand why you’re different from everyone else. you make him feel like he does whenever he’s torturing his victims but without any actual torturing involved. just spending time with you is enough.

his house is unique. you fall in love with it the first time you accept his offer to come over. you admire all the strange knickknacks around. the pretty butterflies and moths pinned in shadow boxes. the vintage wallpaper. its charming and you immediately want to move in.

he doesn’t torture you. he doesn’t need to. he likes to tease tho, make you slightly uncomfortable just to watch you squirm but its harmless. and usually just has you yelling at him and rolling your eyes while he laughs.

he knows you’re frighten of bugs and he smiles whenever you call for him to come get a bug and take it outside.

#eri's ideas #asa emory #the collector #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #tw: slasher #SORRY I CAN'T STAND THE FANON VERSION OF HIM #HE REMINDS ME OF A WHITE TUMBLR DOM LMAOOOOOOO #i was really excited to read some of his fics #even though he's fucking terrifying #and im scared of him and intrigued by him at the same time #its complicated #anyways then i READ some fics and they're all so violent #which i GET #i mean he's probably THE most violent slasher out there #but i domesticate slashers #i need that soft fluff #if i wanna get scared by men i'll just talk to the men i know irl

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wthtorke · 1 year

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Coffee

Asa Emory (The Collector) x Gender-neutral Reader (because I just had to write another one lmao)

Warning for homicidal thoughts - Seen earlier on P4tre0n

At first, it was a game. Asa didn’t think he’d get so invested in the house ‘playhouse’ thing. It also started as a personal challenge. Jokes and jabs were made at him by work colleagues who were only temporarily safe from his wrath for being too close to his…civilian form.

“Emory is going to die bitter and alone.” “Not even the spiders will handle such an old grouch.” “Professors party is next month Emory, no date to take yet? Did you ever have one?”

He decided to end things. He couldn’t end their lives just yet, but he could stop the rumors. Stop the pestering buzzing of flies that mocked him just outside his web. He’d get them in time.

But still, in order not to feel so pressured into doing it, Asa challenged himself. Could he fully morph into one of them briefly? Could he achieve the perfect disguise? His daytime mask wasn’t perfect, and he knew that.

Entomology wasn’t the most normal job out there. And while his house looked pleasant and well cared for on the outside, he still couldn’t hold off his deeper interests in the inside decor. He had flaws. Maybe this would stretch his ‘normal person’ muscles. Who knew?

And then he met you. Or well. He chose you. Old habits die hard.

He planned to keep things shallow and neutral. He didn’t want you coming over more than necessary, nor did he have any interest in going to your place that often. Too much effort.

What he didn’t plan, however, was that you would respect his privacy. And while Asa Emory, Ph.D. in entomology, hadn’t had many close, normal, lasting relationship experiences– He was pretty sure that’s not how things usually went. He also had not planned that whenever you did come to his place, you would be pleasant to be around.

Asa hated questions, especially from people he despised and especially from stupid people. Odd, given his job- but it was just how things were. Anything to keep appearances.

So he tightened his jaw the second you pointed your finger at his Five-Horned Rhinoceros beetle diorama. “Did you preserve that one yourself?”

He almost shifts on his feet, almost. Good question. “I didn’t. It was gifted to me by my college professor.” He hadn’t thought about him in months, even if the diorama was one of his favorites.

You smile, “Oh, that’s adorable.” Nothing about him was adorable other than the fact he liked to be adored. Like a God.

He thinks about killing you after that. Especially after you’ve had sex, especially now that you’re laying right beside him, dead asleep. Vulnerable.

You shift awake, and he doesn’t try to look away from you. He’s too focused to pretend right now. Still, you blink a couple of times and scoot closer to him. His hand twitches under the covers.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask. His eyes shift to your lips as you speak before coming back up. You smile, and whatever is going through your head right now definitely isn’t the same as his. But you still run your hand up his arm. It's almost like asking permission. Asa doesn’t like to be touched, but you learned that if he lets you touch up his arm, the rest should also be okay.

You learned fast. Maybe that's why you were still alive. He was still deciding if he was thankful for that or not. “Come here, then. It’s too late for staring.” You open your arms and use your hands to bring his shoulders closer to you. Closer to your chest.

He goes.

He scratches the thought of killing you after that.

While Asa was not one for getting unfocused- he did blink twice when the professor’s party email popped up in his inbox. And while you had been bringing coffee over, you sure felt concerned for whatever got Asa to blank so hard. You came to learn that 2 seconds was too long without a response from your entomologist. “Asa? Asa-?”

“I forgot about the Professor’s gathering.” He says. You slowly nod in understanding, “Ohhh…Were you obliged to do something for it?” You ask. He then remembers his coffee mug in your waiting hand. “No,” he takes the mug, “we just have to go.”

Your eyebrows do a little jump. “We?”

At this, he turns at you. “You’ve seen them before.” You nod, “Well, yeah- but only when we had a date after your shift- or when we had lunch together.”

“That’s what people in a relationship do.” He says, not trying to make you feel stupid, but almost like he was reassuring himself. You let out a soft laugh, “Yes, but I mean-. Look, I know you like your space, and your things- you don’t have to take me to a formal event because people think its the right thing-”

“But it is.” He counters. You grimace a little, taking a seat beside him at the kitchen table. “Depends-, do you want to go?” You ask him. He frowns.

He considers.

“No.”

You nod. “Then we don’t have to go.” You say, putting your hand over his on his leg. “How about we stay home and do something else? Or we can go somewhere else, or you could use that night to-”

“Stop.”

You freeze, swallowing your words as you retreat your hand from his. “Oh- sorry.” You look up again when he sets his mug on the table, barely having time to react when Asa’s hands cup your face and his lips close in on yours.

You lower your mug more and more as he continues to kiss you. Kissing him was always something different. Different doses of desire, roughness, and dominance. Different amounts of tenderness and care, and sometimes you swore you could feel something else. Only sometimes.

This was one of those times.

You blindly try to set your own mug on the table until his hand guides yours. His hand wraps around your arm and pulls you closer. And closer, and closer. Until you’re getting up from your chair and moving toward him.

Your chest touches his when you straddle his legs. His hand goes up in your hair while the other caresses your face. He breaks the kiss to look at you for a second. His eyes always had that power over you. The power to make you feel bare. Vulnerable.

Your breathing is strained from the kiss. His is from restraint.

He kisses your cheek and moves to your neck. The way he breathes close to your ear in between them makes your legs shake the tiniest bit.

When his hands hook under your thighs, your arms lock around his neck. He lifts you up, and you know what’s next. What you didn’t expect to hear was the small, barely audible “Thank you.” He whispered as he carried you upstairs.

Asa Emory had played himself.

He almost fell for it when your hand touched his in the kitchen. When you looked at him with all the honesty in the world over something so stupid. So willing to mold yourself to him.

But the feeling didn’t go away. Not after the sex, not after the sleep. Not for anything.

He wakes up, and you’re not there. The sheets are cold.

He gets dressed and goes downstairs. The smell of breakfast hits him like a train. Not many times did you both eat like this. At least not in the morning. And if you did, Asa made it. He always woke up first, made breakfast, and left it for you. He always left for work before you woke up. But this time it was different.

He didn't ask for it.

But Asa never had these small gestures of affection towards him. He always had to do shit alone. Always. He almost can’t believe his very eyes. And he definitely cannot believe he’s not -very- angry right now.

He’s standing at the kitchen entrance watching you making breakfast for you both when he realizes that he's in deeper than he thought.

When did you outsmart him? When did he let his guard down?

When did he start liking you this much?

Still, he should have known himself, his soft spot. You.

You were his soft spot. But still, he didn’t imagine it’d go so far. Had he always longed for this intimacy? Deep down? Maybe he did. Maybe the scared little boy did. But he had it now, hadn’t he?

"Alright, all done! And would you look at that, you actually have time to eat before going out! I-...Asa?"

Asa blinks when he hears his name, coming back to reality, "Hm?"

You smile. A soft, fond laugh escapes you as you shake your head. "Come on Mr. Emory, let's get some coffee in you". You grab his hand, pulling him towards the table where everything is set.

He goes. Gladly.

#the collection #the collector #the collector x reader #asa x reader #asa emory x reader #asa emory #Headcanon #slasher #Slashers #slasher x reader #slash fic #slasher x you #gender neutral reader #reader

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hd-junglebook · 2 months

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Neutral

Part 7

word count - 4287

The creak of your chair sounded through the tent as you leaned over, twisting your rings anxiously waiting for Jaha to appear on the screen. Clarke's voice broke through the quiet.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, her gaze lingering on your trembling hands. You forced a tight smile, at her question. Clarke was one of your closest friends, but you were too anxious to speak normally when your mother was going to be on the other side of the screen in minutes.

"I'm... I'm okay," you digressed trying to sound calm and collected. But even as you spoke, you couldn't tear your eyes away from your sliced hands.

They were shaking uncontrollably, a physical manifestation of the fear and anxiety that was consuming you. Clarke's brow furrowed with concern as she reached out to gently squeeze your shoulder.

“The grounder can’t hurt you anymore, you know,” she said softly. “Bellamy has guards up there watching at all times y/n. You’re safe now.”

You nodded, grateful for her words. Deep down you knew she would never understand what was really bothering you, but you smiled and thanked her for trying to be there.

Your mother was going to be on the other side of the screen in just a few minutes, and you needed to put on a brave face to appease her.

As the clock ticked down, your anxiety only grew stronger. You fidgeted in your seat, your mind racing with all the possible outcomes of this call. Just then, the screen flickered to life, the council room coming into view.

"Chancellor Jaha," you spoke into the crackling static, "Are we ready to start?" There was a brief pause before Jaha's voice filled the airwaves.

"I'm sorry for the delay," he said, his words heavy with implication, "we’re ready to begin the council meeting."

You and Clarke sat side by side, both staring at the screen in front of you. You couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you as you saw your mother's stern face and blonde hair.

Memories of the countless times she had put you down and made you feel like nothing came rushing back. Before you could spiral into your thoughts, Clarke grabbed your hand out of view of the screen.

“Tell me about the Grounder. Can he provide any insight on how to survive winter?” Jaha began.

…

As you walked out of the tent with Clarke, your mind was still reeling from the intense meeting with Jaha.

Once the call ended and your mother's face disappeared from the screen, you let out a sigh of relief, finally able to breathe again. Clarke headed off to find Dax to inform him that it was his turn to speak to the Ark.

Feeling a sense of relief that Clarke would be taking on some of the burden, you made your way back to the dropship. Slipping between some of the delinquents walking, you entered the tin can, met with a heated argument between Octavia and Bellamy.

You almost walked out when Bellamy sent you a deadly glare. “What do you want?” he growled, clearly not in the mood for your presence. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't falling apart without me," you said innocently, knowing it would only irritate him more as you attempted to lighten the mood.

“You're such a pain,” Bellamy growled, he let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Everything is not okay and you're not helping. Why are you even here?”

As he ranted, you couldn't help but smile at his annoyance. It was almost comical how worked up he was getting over the situation. And you couldn't resist the urge to egg him on.

"As much as I would like to hear about it, that's not why I'm here," you said, your voice low and husky, the words laced with a hint of mischief.

'Stop smiling, Y/N,' he snapped, his eyes narrowing at you. "What do you want then?" You met his gaze with a playful glint in your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you leaned in closer. His musk fills your nose. "The Ark found a supply depot not too far from here," you explained, your voice taking on a conspiratorial tone.

A flicker of interest crossed Bellamy's features as he straightened up, his eyes alight with anticipation. "What kind of supplies?" he asked, his voice betraying his eagerness.

With a knowing smile, you took a step closer, the space between you narrowing as the air seemed to crackle with electricity. "The kind that might give us a chance to live through winter," you replied, "I'm gonna go check it out. I could use backup."

Bellamy's gaze lingered on yours, an amused expression crossed his face as he considered your request. "Why are you asking me?"

You looked up at him through your lashes, a playful glint in your eyes as the heat of his body tantalizingly close to yours. "Well, because right now, I don't feel like being around anyone I actually like," you admitted.

The familiar flutter of excitement stirred in the pit of your stomach. There was something about the back-and-forth between you two that never failed to send a thrill coursing through your veins.

Bellamy's smirk widened as he looked down, a chuckle escaping him as he savored the playful banter between you.

…

You take a deep breath as you enter the tent where Clarke, Finn, and Raven are gathered. Clarke looks up as you enter and gives you a small, tired smile.

“I’m almost ready y/n” she says, motioning for you to join them. You make your way over and slinging your pack over your shoulder.

Finn's face dropped at Clarkes words, "Wait. Where are you going?" he asked. You awkwardly shifted from foot to foot not knowing how to react to his sudden change in demeanor.

Clarke met his gaze with a reassuring smile, "It's a little assignment from the Ark," she explained. "It's nothing to worry about."

Finn's concern only seemed to deepen, "It's not safe out there," he insisted, becoming overly worried about Clarkes well-being. You knew Finn had feelings for Clarke, but his overprotectiveness was getting out of hand.

"Finn, Clarke is a big girl. She can take care of herself," Raven declared, her tone leaving no room for argument. You couldn't help but agree with Raven.

Bellamy's voice interrupts your thoughts as he pokes his head into the tent. “It's time to go,” he announces. You hug Raven goodbye, promising to help out with Finn as soon as you can, before following Bellamy and Clarke out into the woods.

…

You treaded slowly behind Clarke and Bellamy. She had speculated it would be another 15 minutes before getting out of the woods. You realized that you had forgotten to eat breakfast, and your stomach grumbled in protest. You reached into your bag and pulled out a pack of jobi nuts, handing some to Bellamy and Clarke.

The three of you munched on the nuts, Clarke grumbled ahead of you, scouring the map in her hands, trying to figure out where the entrance to the supply depot was supposed to be.

"You know, the first dropship is gonna come down soon. Pretty sure you can't avoid Jaha forever," she remarked, a playful glint in her eyes as she addressed Bellamy’s avoidance of Jaha.

Bellamy bristled at her words. "I can try."

But Clarke was undeterred, her gaze locking with his as she outlined their plan. "The depot is supposed to be around here somewhere. There's got to be a door. Maybe he'll be lenient," she suggested, her voice filled with hope.

He tensed visibly Infront of you, "Look. I shot the man, Clarke. He's not just gonna forgive and forget," he stressed, not wanting to speak anymore.

"Well, you know what they say," you quipped, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Shoot first, ask for forgiveness never. Classic Bellamy move." Bellamy's expression softened slightly at your playful jab, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Despite the gravity of the situation, your banter served as a welcome distraction, easing the tension that hung in the air like a heavy blanket.

With a nod of agreement, Bellamy relented, "Let's just split up, cover more ground. Stay withing shouting distance.” he conceded, amusement in his voice as he turned to resume their search.

…

After what felt like hours, Clarke finally let out a triumphant cry. She had found the entrance. With renewed energy, you quickened your pace and ran back to the supply depot. Bellamy broke open the door, allowing you descend into the darkness first.

A wave of musty air washed over you, carrying with it the distinct scent of decay and neglect. The smell intensified as you walked deeper into the bunker, its pungent aroma assaulting your senses. You couldn't help but wrinkle your nose in disgust, the stench almost unbearable.

"Remind me never to complain about the smell of our camp again," you added with a grimace, trying to mask the smell with your sleeve.

Clarke let out a frustrated sigh as she followed behind you. "So much for living down here," she remarked frustratedly. "This place is disgusting. Damn it." You couldn't blame her for her frustration.

After all, the camp was going to run out of food by winter. The once sturdy and secure structure now seemed like a crumbling and forgotten relic.

"Aw, look guys, it's me," you joked, gesturing towards the skeleton with ragged clothing on the stairs, "this must be one hell of a place to die." Clarke rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile at your dark humor, her eyes brightened as she made a discovery. "Hey, I found blankets."

Bellamy's response was less enthusiastic. 'Excited about a couple of blankets?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You joined in the search, hoping to find something useful. As you rummaged through a box, your hand brushed against something hard. You pulled it out and saw that it was a faded photograph of a family. It was a sad reminder of what this world used to be before it was destroyed.

Clarke noticed the photo and let out a sigh. "They must have distributed most of the supplies before the last bombs went off," Clarke said while she searched more containers and boxes, it became clear that there was nothing left.

"Anything left down here is ruined," Bellamy interrupted, his attention was drawn to a nearby drum, and with a swift kick, he sent it tumbling over, revealing a cache of guns spilled out onto the floor, eliciting surprise from everyone present.

“These change everything,” Bellamy grinned, “We don't have to be scared of the grounders anymore. With these guns, we can defend ourselves!” Clarke hesitates, but then nods in agreement.

“I don't like it, but you're right. We need to be prepared.”

Bellamy handed Clarke a gun, his movements purposeful as he demonstrated its use. "You need to know how to protect yourself." She was hesitant at first, but Bellamy assured her that it was just a precaution in case anything ever happened.

With a loud bang, the gun went off, and the target fell to the ground. You let out a small gasp, surprised at how loud it was. “I'm gonna go get some fresh air, don't wait up,” you called out to them, Clarke nodded, giving you a small smile before you headed up the stairs.

…

The chill air wrapped around you like a comforting embrace as you walked out of the bunker. The sound of running water filled your ears. Curiosity takes over and you start walking towards the sound. The sound of water gets louder, and you soon come across a small stream, its gentle babbling drawing you closer.

You clumsily kneel beside the water's edge, cupping your hands as splashed your face, relishing in the cool, refreshing sensation as droplets of water danced across your skin.

As you opened your eyes, you were met with a startling sight - your mother's reflection staring back at you from the rippling surface of the stream. A scream tore from your throat as you recoiled in horror, leaning away from the water's edge.

For a moment, you froze, the world around you falling away as you locked eyes with the familiar visage staring back at you. Something is off about her reflection. Her eyes are dark and hollow, and her once warm smile is now twisted into a menacing grin. You try to look away, but you can't. The reflection seems to be drawing you in, luring you closer.

Despite the warning bells sounding in your head, you’re overcome with the sudden urge to touch the water, to reach out and touch your mother's reflection. The rhythmic thud echoing in your ears as your hand trembled as it hovered above the surface of the stream.

Your reflection pulls you into the water with icy fingers, the world around you seemed to shift and warp as you sunk into darkness.

The sensation of sinking was suffocating, the weight of the water pressing down on you like a crushing embrace. With each passing moment, you felt yourself slipping further and further into the abyss, the darkness swallowing you whole, your lungs burning with the need for air.

As if summoned by the depths of your despair, she appeared before you—Diana Sydney, her form twisted and distorted, her eyes black as coal and her grin a sinister mockery of love.

"Mom..." you whispered, eyes brimming with unwarranted tears, but her response was anything but comforting.

"Oh y/n, y/n, you were just a pawn in my game," she hissed, her voice a chilling echo in the darkness. "A means to an end." Her grin widened at the sight of your tears. "What I have done to you is nothing compared to what is to come," she warned, her voice dripping with malice.

"The darkness that awaits you on Earth will make what I have done to you seem like child's play."

Panic sets in as you try to remember how you got here. You were out searching with your friends, but you don't remember leaving the bunker. You try to call out for your Clarke, but your voice gets lost in the dark space.

…

Startled from the dark depths of your trance by the sudden, sharp crack of a gunshot, you jolt upright, your senses reeling as you emerge from the depths of the stream.

Gasping for air, you blink away the remnants of your haunting vision, water drenching your clothes in your upright position.

Frantically, you scan your surroundings, eyes darting from shadow to shadow as you strain to determine the source of the ominous sound.

The moonlight illuminated a trail to the woods, and you feel a chill run down your spine as you realize that the sound came from that direction. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should follow the trail or run back home.

You start to run, calling out to Bellamy and Clarke. you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up from the deafening silence.

Gunshots ring out once more, closer this time realizing they were under attack. You break through the last of the branches just as Bellamy lunges for Dax.

Clarke crouches behind a tree, her hands shaking as she tries to reload her gun. You are frozen in shock, unable to move as you watch your friend being attacked. a paralyzing shock grips you, rendering your body immobile as you watch the unfolding scene.

Bellamy is struggling beneath Dax's weight, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fights for control. Clarke bursts from her hiding spot, launching herself at Dax. But he is quick to deflect her attack and punches her in the stomach. A strangled cry escapes her lips as she staggers backward, her face contorted in pain.

You see Clarke's gun lying on the ground and without a second thought, you make a run for it. Your hands wrap around the cold metal of the gun, and you aim it at Dax, your fingers tightening around the trigger.

With a steady hand, you pull the trigger, and the bullet hits Dax right in the chest, the sound of the gunshot ringing out in the night air. He lets out a blood-curdling scream before collapsing to the ground. You were surprised at how calm and focused you were, hitting your target with precision.

…

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hangmansgbaby · 3 months

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Gunpowder & Lead P R O L O G U E

Masterlist

Emory's POV is written by @mamachasesmayhem and Jake's POV is written by me.

Banners are POV changers.

"I can't do this anymore, Matt. I'm leaving." The words leave my mouth with only a slight tremble.

Matt barks out a laugh. "What was that, baby?"

I take a deep breath and steel my nerves. "I'm leaving."

"The fuck you are!"

Matt's statement is punctuated with a fierce blow to my cheek, knocking me sideways.

I thought that his recent lack of interest in me would have made this easier. I thought that maybe he was finally tired of me, that maybe he wouldn't care as much when I tried to leave. Clearly, I was wrong.

A kick lands on my ribs after I land on the floor, followed by a few more. I try to no avail to block them, only earning bruises and likely more fractures to my arms. He grips my hair to pull me up only to slam my head into the floor. My head spins as I feel blood pool beneath me. I'm barely conscious when he finally decides to stop, probably thinking I'm down for the count. I hear him grab hiskeys from their hook by the door but when I catch a glimpse of the hooks I realize it wasn't just his that he took, but mine too. Shit, that makes this more difficult. His stupid ass Camero revs in the driveway and the sound of his tires peeling fills the small house. I fight to stay conscious because I can do this.

I don't know how much time has passed when I pull every ounce of will and strength in my body and finally crawl onto my hands and knees.

I can do this.

It could have been minutes or hours since Matt left, so I don't waste a second.

I can do this.

I stumble out of the door and adrenaline floods my nervous system.

I can do this.

My bare feet carry me across the pavement and then through the woods across from the house. It'll hurt like hell later, but it's much shorter to cut through them to get to Birdie's house. This is a route I've memorized, having to sneak out to see my best friend when Matt eventually stopped allowing it. I can get there with my eyes closed, and it's entirely possible I do.

I eventually break through the tree line and push past the pain that's threatening to overwhelm my body. The light to the back porch is on, drawing me near like a lighthouse to the coast, and I stumble the last few steps to the door. I fall against the cool wood in a heap, frantically pounding my fist against it as darkness clouds my vision. The door opens underneath me and I let it take over, finally able to rest.

It's warm when I come to, a gentle voice rousing me. "Sweets, can you hear me? Shit, Jav! She's breathing and has a pulse but she's not responding to me."

I groan and try to peel my eyes open. That voice definitely does not belong to Birdie. It's not her husband Bob either, and that's what startled me enough to fully return my brain to my body. My eyes land on a face surely carved by Aphrodite herself.

"Am I dead?" I mutter out. With a chiseled jaw and concern swimming in mossy green eyes staring down at me, I must be. Especially if I'm not scrambling to get away from a man that isn't Bob Floyd. But a tiny voice in my head tells me that he's safe and that he won't hurt me, so I let myself listen to it.

A small smile pulls at the lips of the man above me. "No, sweets. You're alive, it looks like you fought real hard to be too. How'd you end up here?"

The realization I didn't make it to Birdie's makes me gasp and try to sit up. "I was trying to get to Birdie's house, where I am?!"

I notice I'm cradled in his lap when his arms tighten around me in an attempt to keep me from jostling the multiple injuries I'm sure I have. "Easy, I got you. Birdie Floyd? She's right next door, you almost made it. Just a hundred feet short."

A voice crackles through his phone, clearly on speaker given that I can hear it so clearly. "I'm about 3 minutes out, Jake. What's going on?"

"She's awake, Javy. I think I can manage until you get here, but I'll keep you on the phone just in case."

He turns to me and I can hear sirens in the background of the call. "I'm Officer Jake Seresin and on the phone is my best friend Javy Machado, he's a paramedic. He's working tonight and I called him the second I opened the door, he and his partner are on the way to come look at ya, ok?" My nod prompts him to continue. "I can go get Bob and Birdie if you want?"

"No!" I yelp. "Please don't leave me alone! H-he might show up..."

"It's ok, pretty girl. I got you, I won't leave you alone. You're safe with me." His voice is calm, soothing. "Even though I'm off duty, I called in some backup. I don't want ya worryin' when you hear the sirens and see the lights here shortly."

His thumb rubs small circles on my upper arm as red and blue fill the night sky.

Jake carries me outside to meet the paramedics and I can hear Birdie from across the yard.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes scan the scene and finally land on me and she immediately runs to me."Emory! Oh, honey! What did he do to you this time?" She starts sobbing as her hand gently traces my swollen cheek. "How'd you find her, Jake?"

"She found me. She knocked on my door thinking it was yours." His chin tips up in acknowledgment when Bob joins his wife. "Hey, Floyd. Javy just rolled up and called in some backup."

No sooner than the words leave his mouth, a tall man with a mocha complexion hops out of the ambulance and rushes over. Jake reluctantly lets me go and nods at me as Javy takes over and lays me on a stretcher. As he's taking inventory of my injuries and rolling me to the ambulance, I hear Jake talking to Bob.

"Where's the fucker that did this to her?"

"If he's not at home, he's at The Den." Bob replies, anger clear in his voice.

Jake climbs up the step into the ambulance, just beside Birdie and reaches out and gently squeezes my hand. "Javy's the best there is, you're in good hands. I'm gonna go get the sad excuse of a man that did this to you and he's gonna go rot in a cell."

Tears well in my eyes as relief washes over me. "Thank you, Jake."

Jake did as he promised, immediately arresting Matt and tossing him in jail. After confirming I did, in fact, end up with new fractures in my arm, a concussion, and severely bruised ribs I returned to work about a week after I may have been sporting a neon pink cast, fading bruises on my face, and stitches in my lip, but I'd never been happier.

The trial officially concluded and Jake was there by my side through the entire thing, volunteering to be my personal protection detail.

6 months later

Jake had walked through the door of Cora's, the bakery Birdie and I have been working at since we were undergraduates at UT Austin. Once the recognition hit me, I gasped. "It's you."

His smile was soft, almost shy, as he blushed. "It's me."

"You saved me, l-I don't have enough words for how thankful I am for you."

Thankfully, he dropped in during a slower time so my rambling isn't holding up other customers.

Jake reaches up and rubs the back of his neck as he looks down. "I'd like to think it's what anyone would do, having sworn an oath to protect and serve and all."

I take the time to finally observe what he's wearing, and he looks damn good in his uniform, before smiling up at him. "Well, take your pick officer. Anything you want is on the house. For as long as I work here."

After that day, he made it a habit to stop in at some point during his shift for coffee and a pastry if he was feeling particularly cheeky. "The coffee's always been free to the boys in blue, I can't take advantage of your kindness all the time, Sweets." He'd told me.

And eventually Jake asked me out. "I know you were in a terrible relationship before, so if this is too forward, stop me. But now that it's not a conflict of interest, how do you feel about dinner with me?"

"Dinner sounds amazing." I'd told him with a wide smile and his quickly matched my own.

From that day forward, we'd been nearly inseparable. With his support, I'd finally caught up with Birdie and finished my MBA. While in school, I met the little spitfire named Adalaide Blake. She had been in her final semester of law school and studying to pass the BAR exam. She quickly became close to Birdie and I and we've been thick as thieves since.

Honoring the promise she made to a couple of 19 year old kids, Cora, the owner of the bakery, turned it over into our capable hands and retired. Cora was the grandma I had always wanted. She took me in when I had nothing and loved Birdie and I as her own. Not long after we took over, Matt was released from prison. Jake had delivered the unfortunate news after plying me with ice cream and tequila a few days before our one year anniversary. He promised to keep me safe and asked me to move in with him. We'd discussed it more the next morning when I was sober and he assured me his reasoning was more than just keeping me safe, he wanted me as part of his every day routine.

Within a few months of my moving in, I helped Jake study for and pass his detective's test. He soon promoted and we celebrated by christening the new home for the bakery. The new location included a large, secure basement with the intention of housing abused women and children. Thanks to Jake, the rest of his squadron at the department, and connections they've made through the years, the changes weren't made public knowledge.

There was a caveat that Jake wasn't aware of: Birdie, Addie, and I had been planning something. While we were absolutely making the new construction a safe haven, we also wanted to find a way to make sure men like Matt didn't ruin any more lives. We realized we could make that happen thanks to the combined knowledge of my studying with Jake for the detective test, Birdie hearing all the stories from Bob about work, and Addie having spent a few years as a defense attorney, we could do it. Birdie had the idea to open a secret speakeasy that would be a way for us to meet with potential women who needed help. The brave souls who sought our help were instructed to ask for a pomegranate scone, which was not sold in the bakery. They were instead provided with a time to meet back here at the speakeasy that we named "The Underworld."

Over the next 2 years, we caught cheaters, helped mothers get sole custody of their children, returned money stolen by swindling slimeballs, and rescued women and children from abusive homes. Along the way, we'd made some new friends and became known as The Furies. The Furies consisted of a team of powerful, badass women who shared the same mindset as us. We also made some new enemies...one of them being the Austin PD. A task force was born to stop the ring of vigilantes, and the most ironic part of it all is that many of the Furies have a personal connection to a member of the task force. For me it was Jake. The man of my dreams and love of my life, had taken on the lead. He had risen through the ranks quickly, finding himself on many cases involving the work of the Furies. With his extensive knowledge, it was a no brainer for the department that he be the commanding officer. Even Birdie’s husband volunteered to be the CSI Specialist for the task force.

Jake and I were almost 4 years into our relationship when my ruse was finally up. I had successfully kept the two facets of my life separate until that fateful night.

We had been running a sting on a local biker gang known for human trafficking, Demeter and I had been at The Den while trying to sneak our way into the back by posing as "entertainment" for the club. Apparently, one of the guys there that night had known Matt and therefore knew who I was. That's when shit hit the fan. While I'd been training extensively with Jake in MMA classes and with our ex-military friend learning to evade capture, one me against five men was no match. I'd learned how to take a hit with minimal damage and that was my saving grace. With my ass thoroughly beaten, I once again found myself stumbling through the dense woods that lead to Bob and Birdie's house. Leaning against the doorframe, my knuckles rap against the wood for her to come usher me inside and help me get patched up.

If my right eye wasn't swollen shut, I might have noticed that the door was a deep blue I'd personally picked out instead of the dark maroon I was expecting. The door opens and I don't even look up before I start talking.

"I'm an idiot, I know. Might need to call someone though, I think one of those fuckers broke my nose," I whine.

"Emory? What the fuck?!" A deep voice bellows from the open door.

I look up and my eyes make contact with very angry looking green ones. "Aw shit, wrong door again."

"What the actual fuck, Em? Get inside." I try to usher her in but she takes a step back.

"No, I'm gonna pretend this didn't happen and walk over to Birdie's." Emory tried to walk away but I reached out and snatched her hand. "Jake what are you -? Ow ow, fine, I'll go, just let go of me."

I let go and she pulled on her hand to get rid of the feeling. I could see the war in her one good eye as she reluctantly followed me inside. I led her into the kitchen, lifting her up onto the island before moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink. I silently began working on cleaning up the blood on her face before moving down to see if there are other wounds to treat.

"It's just my nose." She mutters and I release the breath I didn't know I was holding as I check on her nose. It wasn't broken thankfully and it didn't look like she was going to have a concussion either so I was able to relax a little.

"Well it doesn't look broken." I sigh as I move to grab an ice pack from the freezer. "Just need some ice and you'll keep your gorgeous face in perfect condition." She gives me an unimpressed glance as I hold out the ice pack to show her how serious I am about fixing her nose. She grabs it and gingerly presses it against the bridge of her nose.

The air around us was thick as we sat in silence. I took the time to really take her in: the way her hair is still messy and her eyes are still slightly swollen, the bridge of her nose was red and she was sure to have bruising around her eyes tomorrow. I could tell by the way she stared at the tiled floor of our kitchen that she was in her mind. She was supposed to be at the bakery all night, and now she's showing up at my door bloody, again. I'm just about to say something when she speaks up.

"So I guess I gotta explain why we're having a deja vu episode."

"That would be nice." I say with a deep sigh. "But I'd rather make sure you are okay."

"I'm fine. I'd like to explain it all now, rather than later." Her voice sounded strained and for someone who was usually so confident, that was saying something. "Okay, shoot."

She takes a deep breath before she starts. "I would like to state that if you never wanna see or speak to me again after you hear all this I completely understand, because it's a lot and you're probably gonna hate me afterwards and—"

"Em, please, stop." I cut her off, unable to deal with any more of her self deprecating rambling. "We're gonna have to get married before you continue so I can claim marital privilege."

"Wait, really?" She drops the ice pack to the counter as her eyes widen at my words. We've only just recently started talking about marriage being an option because I wanted to wait for her to be ready for it. "Seriously? You wanna marry me before I tell you all this?"

"Really, sweets." I smile, reaching out to cup her cheeks. "I love you and nothing could ever make me hate you! Shit, you could be the fucking leader of the Furies and I would still only see my Emory. I even have a ring upstairs."

"No you don't." She chuckles nervously.

"Oh, I do, trust me." I lean towards her and place a small kiss on her lips. They're chapped but warm. She leans forward as well, tilting her head slightly. We pull apart with a soft chuckle.

"So should we get you that ring and then go tell Bob and Birdie?" I smile.

"Yeah. Yeah I think we should." She nods before looking back at me. "You wanna help me clean up?" I laugh as I grab a washcloth to clean up the rest of the blood.

Once she was cleaned up and changed into some new clothes, we made our way across the shared yard to the Floyd household.

"I doubt they're even still up." Emory mutters as I knock on the door. "I mean seriously, it's 4 am. They wouldn't still be up, would they?"

"Not that I can tell." I frown and look back toward Em. "Let's see." We both peer inside the house through a window and we both see that the lights are still on, albeit dimly. Suddenly, the door opens to reveal Bob, his eyes already tired and his glasses fogged up from sleep. His hair was rumpled as if he had been running his hands through as his vision focused on us.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here so late?"

"We need to talk to you guys." I answer as Emory nods.

"About what?" The tone in his voice indicates that he isn't buying into anything. He's definitely suspicious of us.

"Nothing important." I lie and Emory quickly steps in.

"But you should go get Birdie."

"If it's enough for the both of you to interrupt mine and Birdie's sleep schedules, then it is important." Bob sighs, "Come on in." He gestures us in before locking the door and heading towards his bedroom where Birdie was surely sound asleep.

It's a few minutes before we hear the tell tale signs of Emory's best friend running down the hallway.

"Em! Are you okay?" The brunette girl drops beside her friend, checking her over for injuries. "Should I call…?"

"I'm fine Bird, everything is okay now." Em assures her and I could see Birdie's shoulders visibly relax before she reaches for a pillow.

"Then where the hell have you been?!" The brunette exclaims as she pulls away from her friend, hitting her with the decorative pillow. "I thought you were dead! There was always a chance you were in deep but what the hell?!"

"I'll explain everything later, but we need you to do something for us first." Emory smiles softly, pulling the pillow from Birdie's hands. Both Birdie and Bob look at us confused as I move to the seat next to Em.

"We're getting married tomorrow." I say.

"Oh." Bob answers shocked.

"Oh? Oh my god! Finally!" Birdie jumps up cheering. "Wait! Why tomorrow?"

"I might've fucked up on which door I knocked on again." Emory giggles. I laugh with her, Birdie just stares blankly at us before she speaks.

"So you're gonna...?"

"After the wedding, he wants marital privilege." Em answers.

"Oh well then by all means Mr. Seresin, dive in head first!" Birdie replies, laughing. "Break her heart after this, they won't find your body."

"I'm gonna kill you someday Birdie." Emory mumbles.

"No you won't." Birdie blows her a kiss. "Now you get the guest room." She says, pulling Emory from the couch and pushing her down the hall. "And you get to go home and sleep alone!" She says, looking at me.

"But..."

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Now get out of my house." Birdie ushers me towards the door.

"Ya know we could've done it in secret." I tell her.

"Then you'd be dead. Night Jake!" She smiles before closing her front door and locking it.

With that I turned, headed towards home. I felt slightly lightheaded and giddy; I couldn't believe it actually happened. I didn't feel scared or worried, but I guess I should have. I knew I loved Emory and nothing could change that, why would she even think that anything would? As I thought about these things walking through my front door, I glanced at the clock, noting the brightly shining 4:36 am. The courthouse opens at 8, sleeping now would only make us late so I walked to the living room and threw on the morning news.

Our wedding, although a simple one at the courthouse with only Bob and Birdie present was perfect. I never needed the fancy suit, the white gown, and the big wedding to prove that I loved her. Seeing her stand before me with the ring I've been holding onto for a year was more than enough. Bob and Birdie treated us to breakfast before heading back to their house. And then Emory tells me everything. And I mean everything.

I sit in shock on the loveseat as Em paces across the living room from me. Birdie's in the kitchen making drinks and Bob speaks up from his seat on the other couch.

"Well thank fuck someone else knows." He sighs, relaxing into his chair.

"I'm sorry, WHAT?!" I shouted, turning to who I thought was my best friend. "You knew they were doing this?"

"Why else do you think there was never any definite trail linking them to any of the crimes? I've been busting my ass around the clock out here!" Bob defends. "Nat and I can't take it anymore!" Bob immediately slaps a hand over his mouth. My eyes widen, if possible, more than they already were.

"Nat knows?!"

"BOB!" Both Emory and Birdie shout.

"Am I the only one who didn't know?" I question, my eyes trailing between the girls.

"Uhhh, Jake. Let's talk more tomorrow after we've consummated our marriage and can't have it annulled." Em chuckles softly and I already know the answer. Everyone, everyone knew before me.

"Did everyone know before me?"

"At least Cyclone doesn't know. Especially about—" Bob is cut off again by his wife who's abandoned the drinks.

"Robert!"

"The dam is broken, Birdie. There's no turning back now!"

"I knew we should've let Psyche make him sign the NDA." Emory sighs, groaning as she drops into a seat.

"Well I figured he feared his wife more." Birdie shrugs.

"And I do!" Bob jumps up, trying to defend himself. "I don't fear jail because I know what you bunch are capable of."

"Robert Floyd! Did you only marry me cause you thought I'd kill you?!" Birdie shouts, turning to glare at her husband.

"No! I love you! I do!" Bob panics, trying to dig out of the hole he got himself in. "But I definitely don't wanna be on the receiving end of one of Em's special recipes."

"BOB!!!" Em, Birdie, and hell even I shouted at him, knowing that was definitely something he was not supposed to tell me.

"I'm gonna go shower now." Bob mutters, walking towards the master bedroom.

"I swear I'm gonna—"

"Let us leave before you go all Hera on his ass." Em laughs as she pulls me to the front door. I'm still processing everything she told me as we enter our home.

My girlfriend—my wife— is THE Persephone, the leader of the Furies. The woman who has been avoiding capture at my hand for years now. The love of my life is who I've been chasing this entire time. Holy shit.

"You okay over there?" Her voice drags me from my thoughts. I look up to see her staring at me expectantly.

"I'm okay, I think?"

"Are you asking me if you are okay?" She laughs, stepping up to me. Her hazel eyes still sparkle the way they always have, but especially since she now has the diamond ring I got paired with her now. This is still my Emory, not the known vigilante that I've been hunting for years.

"No. I'm okay." I smile at her.

"So... the handcuffs are still for in the bedroom and not for arresting me right?" She asks, smiling as she slowly pulls me towards our room. It's only then that I realize how painfully hard I am.

"Please stop talking. My dick is hard and I'm so confused as to why." Emory laughs at my statement, stopping in her tracks as she snorts, doubling over from her laughter. "This isn't funny Em! I'm conflicted!"

As she calms down she looks up at me with lust filled eyes. "At least you know that I don't entirely hate you for all the times you shot at me." She shrugs casually and walks into the room leaving me standing there in shock, her hips swaying a little more.

Then it hits me. Some of the nights that we had the greatest sex— it was right after I had a shootout with the Furies. She would jump me the minute we were both home and my god—

"Don't you dare start without me, sweets!"

Taglist: (tagging those who might interested, join the taglist to keep being tagged or to be tagged next time) @mamachasesmayhem @eternalsams @sarahsmi13s @hookslove1592 @sailor-aviator @callsign-magnolia @goldenseresinretriever @callsigns-haze @some-lovely-day @buckysteveloki-me @bradleybeachbabe @lovinglyeternal @footprintsinthesxnd @ohtobeaspettyasleah @untoldshortsofthefandoms

Mama may's Everything tags: @aviatorobsessed @callsigncurse @teacupsandtopgun @trickphotography2 @thedroneranger @sweetwhispersofchaos @capoteera @hardballoonlove @buckysdollforlife @kmc1989 @seresinhangmanjake @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @lynnevanss @jynxmirage @na-ta-sh-aa @whatislovevavy @dingochef @dempy @dckweed @just-in-case-iloveyou @tgmreader @djs8891 @marvelousnightjengale @soulmates8 @sorchathered

42 notes · View notes

secret-third-thing · 3 months

Text

Upcoming Writing (February-ish Edition)

February 22: And the Hounds Bayed | (Est. 10-15k)

An indulgent Southern Gothic-ish one-shot about the price one pays for family. Featuring Neris, Nezriel, Azris and some background Elucien cause we love them in this house. Ping/reply/dm me if you want to be on the tag list.

February 28: Ch. 5 of Blood in the Wine

A political intrigue long fic set before Amarantha's rule. It features an Eris x OC romance that's mostly canon compliant. In this chapter, Gianna learns she's going to Autumn. She's not happy. Read from the beginning here.

March 5: Wild Nights - Wild Nights! (Part 2)

In part 1: It was only a kiss. Or was it? In part 2: Morrigan avoids her father in Velaris and Emerie wants to spend time with her favorite Blonde. More than just kisses ensue. Read part 1 here.

And then I'm hoping to finally get caught up on some of the drabble requests languishing in my inbox. 🤡

#neris #nezriel #azris #eris x oc #emorie #elucien #eris vanserra #nesta archeron #azriel #emerie #morrigan acotar #acotar fic #stt writing updates #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel acotar #emerie acotar #elain archeron

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free-for-all-fics · 9 months

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Various Slasher Prompts! This list includes: Brahms Heelshire, Ghostface, Thomas Hewitt, Jason Voorhees, Asa Emory, Jesse Chromeans, Severen Van Sickle and Bo Sinclair. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of these ideas and I’d love to read it! 🔪❤️🩸(Special thanks to my bestie @tinalbion!)

1. You’re either born with unique doll-like features or you’ve gotten extensive plastic surgery to look like a doll. Either way you have the face, hair and body of a life size porcelain doll. You’re beautiful and look practically perfect in every way. But it’s sort of uncanny how you dress and do your makeup and hair to look so much like a living doll, almost like you’re an imitation of a human. How does Brahms react? How do you react when you meet this man who’s been living in the walls and wears a porcelain doll mask?

2. Resident Evil Village Crossover: You’re a doll maker like your sister, Donna. You may or may not have mutations and/or the ability to bring dolls to life and control them like she did. After Claudia’s and your parents’ deaths, all you and Donna had left was each other. Naturally, you were very close. You made dolls together, tended to the garden, and left flowers at Claudia’s grave periodically. You were the only person Donna showed her face to, but she still had bad days where she couldn’t bring herself to take off the black veil. Not even for you. You’d never leave the house or go to the village without her because she wouldn’t let you. She used her dolls to keep watch over you while she was away. She always accompanied you outside, afraid something bad would happen if she wasn’t there to protect you.

After her death, there’s nothing left for you in Romania. You’ve never been allowed to step outside the village walls before because of how agoraphobic and overprotective your dear sister was. You’re scared and anxious to travel abroad all alone, but you have no reason to stay here. After burying Donna with Angie in the family cemetery and giving your final goodbyes, you leave Beneviento Manor without looking back. You travel to England, only bringing your personal favorite doll and some small yet precious family mementos that you cherish.

Somehow you meet Brahms and it’s remarkable how alike he is to both you and your deceased sister. Like Donna he has dark hair, hides his face, and speaks through or otherwise uses a doll that’s important to him to communicate. He, too, loves to play games like Hide-and-Seek with his victims. He’s lonely and doesn’t want you to leave the Heelshire mansion either, just like how Donna forbade you from leaving Beneviento Manor without her. Like you, his life is marred by tragedy. His entire family is deceased and he has lived alone in a creepy old house since his parents committed suicide, just like how you and Donna spent your lives after you lost your own parents in the same manner. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Brahms was a long lost brother of yours that was separated from you at birth. Maybe it’s fortunate he has no blood relation to you. So what happens now? (Platonic or Romantic is up to you)

3. Ghost of Thornton Hall AU: You’re Brahms’ twin sister and were beloved not just by your family, but by the entire village. Everyone who knew you loved you. While Brahms was “odd”, you were everything but. Your parents tried to love you and Brahms equally, but you inevitably became their favorite child. When you died with your brother in a house fire, the village suffered a great loss and everyone mourned you deeply. Even 20 years later, your absence is still felt by the village. Flowers and gifts are left at your grave. Your epitaph reads, “Dear Sweet Y/N, Please Come Back”. Rumors and ghost stories spread that you and your brother still haunt Heelshire Manor. Village children make up the rhyme, “Fire So Red, Night So Black, Dear Sweet Y/N, Please Come Back,” and dare each other to recite it in the cemetery at night over and over until they scare themselves silly. Except you didn’t actually die. You were sent away after Brahms nearly killed you. It was a terrible accident and he never meant to hurt you, but it was too much for your parents to bear. So they faked both of your deaths and sent you abroad to America to live with a new family while they kept Brahms hidden away in England.

On your 28th birthday, your adoptive parents tell you the truth and reveal your birth name (omitting the parts about your brother and the fire). You’re sent a letter in the mail that has no return address, but looks like it’s from someone you know. It’s your friend’s handwriting and signed with their name. You haven’t seen them in a while, but they’re inviting you to their house in the English countryside - all expenses paid. How can you say no? Unbeknownst to you, this is all a trap set up by Brahms to bring you back to Heelshire Manor, whether you remember he’s your brother or not.

On the drive there, you stop by a cemetery and see a beautifully decorated gravestone covered in flowers and gift offerings. With your name and birthdate engraved on it. Naturally, you freak out, especially when you see your death date listed as 20 years ago. You’re not dead! So how and why is this here? You’re perturbed and have so many questions but is this really a mystery you want to unravel? The only place you’ll find answers is inside Heelshire Manor. But If you step foot into that house, there’s no going back. You’ll be past the point of no return. Once you come home, Brahms won’t let you leave.

4. Ghost of Thornton Hall inspired AU: A local newspaper has a front page story that reads as follows: A dreary cloud descended over the English countryside yesterday afternoon as services for Y/N Heelshire brought the entire village to a complete standstill. A large group of mourners braved the pouring rain for a chance to pay their final respects to Ms. Heelshire before the private internment on the Heelshire family’s estate. A beloved and charismatic member of the influential Heelshire clan, Y/N was fatally injured during a fire on the Heelshire estate. Since news of her death, outpourings of grief have been seen throughout town, but none were as spectacular as what occurred during her funeral service. Brahms Heelshire, brother to the deceased, was carried out by local police following a violent outburst. Witnesses allege Brahms Heelshire grew agitated during the services, causing thousands of dollars in damage and a few minor injuries. No witnesses were willing to comment to record and Brahms was later released without charges to the care of his family. There is currently no evidence that what transpired that fateful night was anything more than an accident.

“What’s the story with the locked room upstairs?”

“It’s Y/N’s. We don’t go in there.”

“It might help me figure out what’s going on if I could take a look around.”

“Best of luck. That door locked itself up tight the day of her funeral. There’s not a key in this world that’ll open it. I’ve tried.”

Are you truly dead or has your death been faked by your parents? Did young Brahms intentionally try to kill you or was it truly an unfortunate accident and misunderstanding? Will you one day return home to Heelshire Manor and darken its doorstep or does the ghost of your memory forever haunt the halls? It’s all up to you to decide.

5. Crimson Peak/Haunted Mansion AU (no incest!): You’re Brahms’ twin sister. Since you were children, you’ve had murderous urges like he does. Except while Brahms was “odd” and didn’t have many friends, you were a beautiful little girl who looked and acted sweet. You’ve even fooled your parents into thinking you were a perfect social butterfly. But in secret, you’d do weird things like mutilate your toys, etc. Other kids and adults fell right into your traps. It was easy for you to pretend to cry about being lost before isolating your victims and killing them. Covering it up was also easy: No way could a child overpower an adult or do such a terrible thing! But after Brahms killed Emily Cribbs, your parents faked his death by setting the manor on fire. It was up to you to play the part of the perfect daughter and heiress.

20 years later, you’re a stunningly beautiful woman and shine brightly amongst society. Your parents are deceased, and the wealth you and Brahms have accrued from your inheritance and parents’ wills is drying up. You’ve become a somewhat prominent and popular socialite, so you and Brahms hatch an ingenious plan: You go out in society, travel to America and other countries to seduce wealthy men into marriage. Once you bring them back home to Heelshire Manor after your honeymoon, you work your magic on them until they believe themselves to be in love with you. Any weird or strange noises your new husbands hear in the walls you wave off as just the rats, the old pipes, etc. The house is old and often creaks and “breathes” when it shifts. Any concerns they come to you with, you comfort them but tell them they’re just not used to the English countryside air yet. It usually doesn’t take long for you to convince them to sign the papers and leave everything to you.

You and your brother then kill them together and dispose of their bodies. You put on an award-worthy performance as a worried wife with a missing husband, which soon turns into a grieving widow. Then you collect their money and assets, and repeat the pattern as needed. Gaslight and Girlboss. You’re a very successful Black Widow and everyone in the village is none the wiser because you’re such a convincing actress. Brahms and you cover up your crimes so well. Besides, you’re such a darling and do so much good and charitable work for the village that you would never be capable of doing such a heinous thing! You’re so friendly and everyone in the village loves you. You just have terrible luck in love, that’s all!

6. Orphan inspired AU: Heelshire Manor has become a (in)famous though unofficial haunt. The abandoned house has been an attraction for tourists, ghost hunters, and paranormal investigators around the world ever since rumors and speculations from village pub talk have been spread through word of mouth and posted on the internet, exaggerated over time to garner the most attention. The truth behind the story of Emily Cribbs’ death and the fire at Heelshire Manor has been twisted ever since it first got published on online blogs. What was an unsolved crime has now become a ghost story, an urban legend almost. The manor is said to be haunted by the ghosts of Brahms Heelshire and his sister ever since they both died in a house fire when they were children. Videos posted on TikTok and YouTube show strange phenomenon: Porcelain dolls and other objects moving by themselves, inexplicable noises like knocking, the voices of the ghost children, and telephones ringing when the lines are revealed as disconnected and dead. Doors have been shown to shut and lock on their own, and dead animals that were definitely not there before are left lying about in the open. Threatening messages such as “GET OUT” appear written in blood, etc. Some videos even feature rare sightings of the little Heelshire daughter’s ghost. She looks exactly the same as she did on the day she died.

Except you’re not a ghost and neither is your brother. He’s been moving through secret passageways inside the walls and mimicking the voice of a child perfectly. You were born with a rare genetic disorder that makes you have the appearance and voice of a child even though you’re an adult woman. Unwitting people trespass onto your property and break into your family home to film scary ghost content, so you and Brahms take every advantage. You give them the scares and ghost activity they so desperately want then, when they least expect it, you and Brahms strike. You and your brother murder them even if they’re still recording. The videos capture their final moments as they struggle to fight and survive. You and your brother relish in the sounds of their screams or dying breaths as they gasp for air or choke on their own blood.

You then take their phones and cameras, stopping the recordings at just the right moment before you post the videos yourself. Peoples’ skepticism and eagerness to denounce something as fake for clicks or clout works in your favor and allows you and Brahms to get away with endless murders. You then promptly destroy the phones, cameras, or other recording devices and dispose of them just to be safe. The locals know better but are too afraid to go near your house. Nobody ever heeds their warnings and people keep coming like lambs to the slaughter because they think it’s all fake or staged. And since people think you and Brahms are paid actors and it’s all just an elaborate hoax, nobody is gonna bother to investigate. No matter how many people go missing or end up dead, it’s never going to stop. It’s an endless cycle you and Brahms delight in.

7. You’re dating Stu and Billy. You love them both and they love you so it’s perfect that you share and do things as a trio. But because it’s high school and the 90s, nobody understands your poly relationship and you get relentlessly harassed and bullied in school for dating two guys at the same time. You’re called a whore or slut, sarcastically asked by guys for threesomes or hookups since you, “open your legs for two guys already so what difference would it make”, when you’re just trying to get stuff out of your locker or get to class. Thanks to annoying cliques of popular girls, rumors may start that you even have STDs or are pregnant. Even at home, you get creepy or annoying phone calls from girls asking who’s better in bed or guys asking for sexual favors. You’re tired of all their shit so you disconnect your landline phone, which makes your boyfriends worried when you start skipping class and they can’t get a hold of you anymore.

Billy and Stu find out about the situation sooner or later, whether you tell them or not. When they started their Ghostface killing spree, they didn’t have a motive. But now they do. They start tormenting and killing your harassers and bullies. You don’t know your boyfriends are Ghostface and you may be a suspect for a while and questioned by police, but Billy and Stu don’t like that. They’ll take care of it and clean up their mess so that evidence points to someone else (like Cotton Weary) and you’re cleared. Whether you eventually find out they’re Ghostface or not is up to you. How you react to the reveal of them being Ghostface (whether they confide their secret in you and tell you all they’ve done to protect you, or you find out accidentally by being in the wrong place at the wrong time) is up to you.

8. You’re Sidney’s sister and Mickey’s girlfriend. You’re his muse for his film aspirations and often help him with his amateur filmmaking whether it’s brainstorming ideas, traveling to locations, writing screenplays and scripts, etc. While his intentions were the same as Billy’s when he first met you, everything changed when he unexpectedly grew to love you just as much as he loves film. He doesn’t want you to get mixed up with his Ghostface plot anymore. But his methods of protecting you look suspicious and you start to have doubts and feel uneasy around him. When you vent about Mickey to your classmate, Cici Becker, she puts these ideas in your head that he’s either cheating on you and/or wants to break up and is just waiting for an opportune moment. She compares his behavior to her own shitty “boyfriend”, Ted. Why did he ask Hallie to go with him as his date to the mixer party and didn’t even tell you about it? Why else would he be gone and out late so often or not answer your calls? Little do you know, this is why Ghostface later kills Cici. Similarly, he killed Randy for having the audacity to think he had a chance of scoring or dating you.

All his efforts of protecting you blow up in his face when Nancy Loomis shoots you anyway during the final confrontation. Sidney kills Nancy before the vengeful mother can kill Mickey while he’s distracted and unaware of his surroundings. He’s at your side and trying to stop your bleeding, too busy apologizing to you and asking for your forgiveness. He assures you that you weren’t supposed to be here or get hurt, but you don’t know if you can believe him. You’re torn between pushing him away because you’re scared of him and feel betrayed, or accepting his help because you don’t want to die and you still love him. You know it’s fucked up, but a part of you wishes you could pin all the Ghostface attacks on Nancy somehow. You know you’re not thinking straight due to the blood loss, but a part of you still doesn’t want to see Mickey, your Mickey, dead or in prison. You stop Sidney from killing him and she relents, for now. You’ll all be going on a trip to the hospital, but what will happen between you and Mickey afterwards?

9. 10 Things I Hate About You AU: Mickey is paid off by another student to take you out on dates for whatever reason. He’s asked you out multiple times, but you kept turning him down, aware he’s kind of a player and gets around campus. But he persists and eventually does something like Derek did for Sidney where he makes a spectacle of asking you out. So you finally cave and say yes. What started out as a monetary transaction became genuine as he got to know the real you, past the introverted and antisocial exterior you exhibit at school. You’re tempestuous, feisty, and rebellious, but have a very sweet and sensitive heart deep down. You’re tough but he really likes you. Hell, maybe he even loves you as the semester progresses.

You agree to stay up late to help him with his final project for his Film Studies class, but then you both get distracted and bored with filming the documentary. You decide to film a sex tape instead. Something special and private, just for yours and Mickey’s eyes only. He treats it like a passion project. He directs you and acts alongside you as if you were scene partners in a high class art film. During the filming of this sex tape, you tell Mickey you love him. Even if he doesn’t say it back, you feel like he doesn’t have to. You already know he loves you too. But then everything goes to shit when you overhear a heated exchange between him and the student who’s been paying him off. When your sex tape is mentioned, you think he’s shown the tape to other people and feel used and lied to.

“Nothing in it for you, huh? You were paid to take me out! I knew it was a set-up!”

“It wasn't like that!”

“Really? What was it like? A down payment now, then a bonus for sleeping with me?”

Mickey chases after you and insists that he doesn’t care about the money, he cares about you. But after what you perceive as his betrayal, you refuse to listen. You storm off, accusing him of not being who you thought he was. This drives Mickey to become Ghostface and start killing. He wants revenge on those he believed played a part in turning you against him, starting with the punk who bribed him. He’ll come up with a plan to make things right and win you back, one way or another. Even if he has to eventually kidnap you and/or pretend to be the hero and save you from Ghostface. He’ll come up with an elaborate plan and find a way to prove his love for you is real. Even if he has to commit a few murders along the way and pin them on someone else.

10. You’re Sidney’s sister and have been dating Mickey. Murders start happening again following the release of Stab and you get calls from a new Ghostface. You ask Mickey if you can come over; it’s very important that you talk to him in private and it can’t wait. When you arrive at his dorm, Mickey is concerned about your mental and emotional state. You don’t look well. You’re paranoid and stressed, still traumatized from the Woodsboro Ghostface attacks 2 years ago. He acts as a loving and supportive boyfriend, comforting you and distracting you from your anxious thoughts with kisses and more. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve stayed over at his dorm nor would it be the first time you’ve slept together, but this time feels like a goodbye. You urge Mickey to stay away from you for his own safety because Ghostface is after you and your sister again. Whoever it is won’t hesitate to kill your loved ones to get to you. You tell him you’re leaving town and try to break things off, but Mickey is stubborn and refuses to let you go. He loves you and swears he’ll protect you, but he feels like there’s something else you’re not telling him and demands to know what it is. He blocks the door and stops you from leaving. You’re acting weird and look like a sleep deprived mess, so you’re not going anywhere until you tell him what’s going on with you. You break down and reveal it’s not just you or Sidney you’re worried about anymore: You’re pregnant with Mickey’s child.

After that, things seem okay between you and Mickey. The killings have slowed down so maybe it’s over. But then you inadvertently find a Ghostface costume hidden amongst all his stuff in his dorm while he’s out, and you rightfully assume the worst - that he’s playing you the same way Billy played Sidney. Mickey admits that while that was the original plan, the plan changed when he unexpectedly fell in love with you. He swears he wasn’t the one calling you and that it was his partner, Nancy Loomis. He told her to stop and leave you be after you told him about your pregnancy, but it seems Nancy didn’t listen. He’s lied to you all this time and you don’t know if you can trust him anymore. It isn’t until after the final confrontation when he saves you from Nancy and takes a bullet meant for you that you believe him. He put his own life on the line to save yours. To hell with the film, Mickey wants his family. He wants you and your unborn child more than fame.

11. When you were a baby or toddler, your parents were taking you on a family road trip. They stopped at Luda’s shop for gas and/or snacks. A new and young mother of two boys herself, Luda adored you at first sight. She noticed your eyes were two different colors. You were unique and special just like her sweet Thomas. He’s about your age too, or maybe a little older. Your mom and dad were polite as one of them held you in their arms and told you to say hello to the nice lady, waving your arm for you because you were too shy. Luda gave you an old but pretty doll to play with, and your little smile made her heart swell at how cute you were. You were such a sweetheart and she was sad to watch you leave, but was happy you had parents who loved you despite your mismatched eyes.

When your parents later hit a cow in the middle of the road and died upon impact, Charlie Sr. came along and found you in the backseat, covered in your parents’ blood. He cursed to himself when he heard your shrill crying and screaming. You were confused and frightened but luckily unharmed. He pulled you from the bloody wreckage before the sheriff could show up and take you away. His wife always wanted a daughter, so he brought you back to the house. After he told Luda what happened, she cleaned you up. She rocked you back and forth, hushing you and lulling you to sleep. What a horrific tragedy to have befallen your lovely parents and for you to be in the middle of it. Luckily you were young enough that you wouldn’t remember your birth parents or anything from what’s happened. She’ll love you and raise you as her own. Tommy will have a sister to play with. What’s your upbringing like as you grow up with the Hewitts? With your eye condition and his skin disease, what are you and Thomas like as siblings from childhood to adulthood?

12. You died at Camp Crystal Lake and Jason, this poor man, was so devastated that he was in denial and didn’t want to bury you. He’d just tuck your deceased body into bed or on the couch like you were only sleeping and Pamela had to softly tell him it’d be best to bury you properly. Her sweet boy was hurting and her voice comforted him as best as it could. So he buries you, his best friend and lover, in your favorite spot in the camp. He leaves wildflowers for you every day he visits. Of course Jason would be merciless to those that caused your death (if it was caused through foul play and not by an accident or natural causes) and any trespassers after that. One day a group of typical teenagers at Crystal Lake were telling scary ghost stories and fucking around with a ouija board, or one teen in particular was just being absolutely stupid in trying to go around the camp and "resurrect the Camp Blood Slasher" as a joke.

But joke’s on them, it resurrected you instead of Jason. When you come back and Jason sees your grave is empty and has been disturbed, he thinks someone stole your body. He’s about to go on a rage fueled murder spree - until he finds you in his cabin. Your hair, skin and clothes are covered in dirt and grime. You’re shaking like a leaf and your eyes are wide like a startled deer. You know you died, you still remember that day so vividly. So you have no idea how you’re here now. You’re alarmed that you have no heartbeat or pulse. You have no need to breathe like a normal human. What’s happened? Why are you like this? What day is it? Somehow, you’re now risen and immortal, just like Jason. But while he’s a zombie, you may be more like a vampiric creature that needs blood to survive. Jason has to do his best to console and comfort you like how Frankenstein’s Creature tried to do with his Bride. There, there. You’re safe now and back home with Jason. He’ll never let anything bad happen to you ever again. He’ll teach you what he knows about being undead as best as he can.

13. Orphan/Criminal Minds inspired AU: You’re Asa Emory’s younger sister and the only other member of his family who survived your insane father’s familicide and macabre setting of the dinner table. The experience fucked you both up and warped your minds. The chemicals your father injected you with didn’t kill you, but they stunted your growth permanently. You escaped with Asa before your father could kill or stuff either of you, but you’re frozen in the body of a little girl. Even as an adult woman, your petite stature makes you look and sound like a child. Sometimes your brother takes you with him on “exterminator jobs” and lets you design or set traps. Other times you’ll lure in victims by pretending to be lost or in need of help. Most people can’t ignore a child in distress and you’re such a good actress. You’re so relieved and thankful to Asa for not infantilizing you. He speaks to you and treats you like the adult you are when you’re in the privacy of your house or otherwise not hunting for victims.

But you’re often angry and envious of adult women, frustrated at your own body. You ask your dear brother to bring back “dolls” for you to play with when he’s working. You’re both artists; While he’s a licensed Entomologist, you’re a master seamstress. He creates masterpieces with his collection of insects while you create beautiful garments for your victims. Asa steals jewelry from houses for your personal use. Sometimes you use parts from different bodies to mix and match in order to create the “perfect woman”: What you think you’d look like as an adult had you been able to grow normally. After you sew the body parts together, Asa preserves your work through embalming and puts it in the hotel.

Other times, you ask Asa to bring back beautiful women alive. These women are abducted by your brother and then paralyzed due to being heavily sedated with drugs through an IV. They’re conscious but cannot move or speak. You wash them, tend to their wounds, dress them up in clothing you made, and do their hair and makeup. You pose them however you want and talk to them like they’re your friends. You care for them until you either grow bored or they inevitably die from the drugs. Asa disposes of them or moves them to his hotel for his own artwork. As fucked up as it is, you and Asa truly love each other as siblings should. You do what you can to protect and care for each other and keep yourselves safe and under the radar.

14. Doctors were able to save Jesse’s baby by performing a post-mortem C-section after his wife killed herself. But knowing what kind of man he is and the gruesome details about the heinous crimes he’s committed, they falsely reported that you died in the womb along with your mother so that Jesse wouldn’t think to come after you and you could have a chance at a normal life. You were adopted by a new family and live under a new name, but sooner or later Jesse finds out one way or another that his child is out there somewhere, alive. He’s livid at this deception. He’s gonna make the people who faked your death and kept you away from him all these years wish they had never been born. Death is too merciful when there are many a worse fate he can arrange. He may even kill your adoptive parents just to eliminate all obstacles that would potentially get in the way of him taking you back. Either way, he’s going to kidnap you. It’s inevitable.

He’s your father and he loves you, even if he shows it in strange or scary ways since he can’t talk and is often surrounded by blood, gore, and death (Remember how he used a creepy Text-To-Speech program with his victims’ voice recordings on his phone and patted Princess’s head with his knife? Yeah. It’d be like that). When the time is right, he may even show you his face and tell you the story of what happened to him. When he heard the tragic news from Spann, he mourned for you rather than for his wife. While she was a means to an end to keep up a cover, he wanted more than anything to have a child of his bloodline to carry on his legacy. He never loved her, but he always loved you from the minute his wife told him she was pregnant. Once he has you back, he’s going to call you by the name he would’ve given you. The name your adoptive parents gave you is wrong. Your past life is dead. You always have been and always will be a Cromeans.

He’s filthy rich so he’ll spoil you and give you practically anything that your heart desires. But he’ll keep you under close watch and heavily guarded. Every room in the massive and luxurious mansion you live in has security cameras monitoring your every step. You feel like a bird in a gilded cage. Of course you can go outside and go anywhere you want! A trusted employee just has to drive and accompany you everywhere you want to go. Doesn’t matter if you’re old enough to drive and have a license or not. He won’t let you escape. He’s missed out on so much and he wants to get to know everything about you. He wants to mentor you and raise you to be his heir. One day you’ll inherit his “business” when you’re old enough and he either retires or is gone. Everything will be left to you and you’ll want for nothing. He’ll kill anyone who tries to usurp him or steal your rightful inheritance (cough Preston cough). He’s trying his best to be a good father, but given his line of work, well, it’s…complicated.

15. You and the slasher of your choosing love to make snuff films/sex tapes. You kill your victims in creative ways because you’re not just committing murder, you’re making ✨art✨. You do all sorts of weird stuff with your “subjects” (use your imagination) and then have sex in their large blood puddles while they bleed out and/or next to their freshly deceased bodies. You film it all on tape. You and your slasher are smart and resourceful so that the tapes can never be traced back to you or fall into the wrong hands and get exposed to the wrong people. You use voice modulators, never show your faces, etc. You’re both sick and twisted, but you aren’t incompetent or stupid to incriminate yourselves. You could send your tapes directly to the police and they’d never find you. That’s how experienced and skilled you both are.

16. Near Dark and House of Wax Crossover ideas: Your older brother, Severen, made the stipulation that he wouldn’t join the clan unless he could bring you with him and turn you when you became an adult. You were still a child or teenager at the time and were his responsibility in your human life. You’re the only person in his family that he ever loved and he practically raised you (for better or worse). While you were still human, the clan would use you as a lure to fish for victims or to run errands for them during the day. Severen taught you how to defend yourself and gave you a trusty weapon to carry with you in case of trouble since he couldn’t be with you during daylight. In your vampire life, Severen’s love for you remains the same. Your brother can be cruel, violent, aggressive, and sadistic. But as your vampire sire, he taught you how to use your beauty and charm to seduce your victims. He emphasized the importance of never showing hesitation about killing. He and you make a chaotic duo. You hot-wire cars to go on high speed joyrides and eat the cops that try to pull you over, commit arson and theft, etc. You put on ✨performances✨ whenever you murder. It’s not enough to just kill. Yawn! That’s boring. You and Severen have to dress up and play a role. You have to make up a character or story. Or walk over a bar counter and slit throats with your boot spurs, etc.

Your road trips with your clan land you in Ambrose where you meet the Sinclair brothers. You really like them, especially Bo. He’s handsome, charming - A dangerous yet cunning murderer. Just like his brothers. All three of them put on stunning performances! Lester gives lost folks a ride into town, Bo sabotages their cars while they sleep then plays the part of a friendly mechanic, and Vincent silently lurks and slinks in the shadows. The brothers work together to murder their victims and put their embalmed bodies on display in the wax museum. Sometimes their victims are still alive while paralyzed in wax and posed. How avant-garde!

You spend most of your time with Bo during your stay and Severen hates that. He hates any human who has the audacity to flirt with or try to seduce his baby sister. It’s always been you and him for over a century! He doesn’t like that Bo is butting in and taking up your attention and time. He once saw you and Bo turn up the music in the garage and go downstairs to some secret room. He knew what you and Bo were doing down there and nearly blew a gasket. It took every last bit of self restraint for him to not barge in there and rip Bo’s head off from his shoulders and gorge on his blood. He had to leave and go out hunting to calm down.

Severen loves you, so he’ll begrudgingly tolerate Bo but his patience has always been thin. You may have to turn Bo and take him as your companion if you want him to live. If Bo isn’t your mate, your brother will probably snap and cut off his face or kill him in the most horrific way he can think of. The only thing stopping him right now is you, since you seem happy with Bo and are in love with him. (Don’t worry, Bo and Severen will warm up to each other and become best friends eventually. They’re very much alike.) Even if you have to turn Lester and Vincent and bring them along to get Bo to agree to your terms of joining the clan, that’s no problem. They’d be useful with their talents and welcome additions.

You’re the youngest Sinclair and only daughter, so your elder brothers are very overprotective and almost smothering in how much they love and look after you. (Maybe you were born kind of sickly and that chronic sickness has been with you all throughout your life, even as an adult.) They practically raised you since Trudy and Victor were absent or neglectful even when they were alive. It was always one of your brothers who had to watch over you to make sure you didn’t run too far away when playing outside. They were your playmates and kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t get hurt or kidnapped. If you did get sick or hurt, they took care of you and made sure you had the right medicine and everything you needed.

Bo killed your father to protect you when the doctor went mad after Trudy’s death and tried to “fix you” with his heinous medical experiments. You would’ve been killed if your eldest brother hadn’t acted and shot Victor with his own shotgun. When he and Vincent were old enough, they pulled you and Lester out of foster care and brought you back home to Ambrose. You’re an adult now, and shit goes down when Severen and his clan just randomly drop in unannounced at Ambrose. Lester didn’t drive them in. Who are these punks? The cowboy vampire seems drawn to you and is stuck to your side like glue from the moment he meets you, always incredibly flirty and charming. Your brothers probably don’t like that but what can they do against a vampire clan? What can they do against a vampire who’s found his mate and it just so happens to be their baby sister? That’s right, nothing!

Severen hates that you’re hurting and suffering from your chronic illness. The medication you have to take and strict routine you live by daily seems like a lot just to remain somewhat functioning. He’s disappointed whenever your brothers interrupt your time together and take you back to the house to rest because your illness is worsening. The creep that he is, he may climb through your bedroom window to watch over you while you sleep just in case you need something while your brothers are busy murdering people. He’ll want to turn you sooner rather than later so that your illness dies off with your human self. The transformation is painful and difficult, but you’ll become not only stronger and faster, but also incredibly hotter. You’re hot now, so imagine how sexy you’ll be as a vampire!

But your brothers can be stubborn and will need lots of convincing first. Of course they’d love it if you were healthy! if vampirism can truly expel the illness from your body and it’s what you want, they won’t stop you from making that choice. But they’re not just gonna give you away to some vampire as if you’re property, even if he is your “mate”. Something this serious calls for a good ol’ sit down with the entire clan at the kitchen table. Good thing the vampires have all night, because this discussion is gonna take hours. Your brothers are gonna pull an all nighter while they interrogate the vampires and set down some ground rules. Severen would do anything to have you, even if it meant turning all of your brothers into vampires. They’re your family too, so If you want them to join the clan and they agree to being turned, he’ll welcome new members in without complaint for once.

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spinning-stars · 10 months

Text

Horror charaters x A bone obsessed Y/N

I did this for all my animal bone collector horror fans (Myself included) 🖤🦴

Characters include- Asa Emory, The Sinclair brothers, Bubba Sawyer and Thomas Hewitt!

It's Sfw!

Warnings- there is a part skinning animals, I'll let y'all know when that part will come up!

Enjoy 🖤

Asa Emory-

It's Asa so of course he's going to love the fact that you love animal bones.

💜 (scroll to heart # 2 this is the mention of skinning animals part!!!) Every time one of Asa's victims' pet dies due to one of his traps or one of his dogs dies or he finds a dead animal, he doesn't like to waste. Asa makes sure the animal is dead before he loads them up and takes them to his workspace, he'll de-skin and clean up the bones for you to keep. If the animal was a bird or something small he'll try and make a necklace with them. He won't tell you how or where he got the bones.

💜 He will definitely try getting you into insects/bugs exoskeleton, he will pull up another chair and teach you how to pin the animals wings and how to frame them for display. He's rather patient with you, and if you enjoy it you and him will have a little weekly date doing that exactly.

💜 Asa would always be on high look out for animal bones as he stalks his next victims. (One time he found a box of animal bones in one of his victims room and took them to give to you on your birthday🖤)

💜 When y'all move in together he will set up the coolest room ever, framed bugs on the wall, cool animal bone decor, and a bone pillow, as a little surprise.

Vincent Sinclair-

He finds your bone obsession to be cute tbh.

💚 He will make you little wax skeleton of your favorite animal. You just came home from helping Lester with Jonesy and you just see Vincent waddling up to you to hand you it. (He's more excited to give you your gift than anything else in the entire world)

💚 Vincent may not leave the house often but Lester does. So every day Vincent asks Lester to try and find some animal bones so that he can wrap them up in a little bouquet.

💚 He makes it a habit to search the bodies before he covers them in wax, he knows people wear shark teeth, alligator teeth and sometimes bones quite a bit.

💚 Once he figured out what was your favorite skeleton he told Bo to take you out to eat somewhere, head to the store for food and let you help in the shop for the day. He told Lester to pick up very specific shades of room paint. (I headcannon that Vincent has trained Lester's eyes to tell the difference between 2 colors that barely have a difference.) Once Lester came back he started painting a detailed mural on the wall.

Bo Sinclair-

Doesn't mind the bones obsession.

💙Bo trys to make him out to be "oh ok." And does nothing about the obsession kind of guy but he fails at that so badly.

💙 "Hey babe, I got you some of these bone shaped candies because you have a weird obsession." (He has to throw a small insult in there or he will literally explode)

💙Bo will sit in the shop all day and work on carving a little bone design into a peice of metal to make a ring/bracelet for you. (Vincent provided the drawings for him to make the ring/bracelet)

💙 This Mother fucker is a good pick pocketer and thief. Every time he sees someone wearing bones he will figure out a way to get it and give it to you.

Lester Sinclair-

Lester is Lester.

❤️He will feed into your obsession the most.

❤️ Every. Single. Day. He will bring you baskets of animal bones (Most of them are teeth)

❤️ Lester would carve you and him matching animal bone knifes, you can't convince me otherwise.

❤️ He would buy you a Lego animal bone set, I can't unsee it. (Most likely one of the dinosaur ones)

Bubba Sawyer-

He misunderstood the assignment a bit

💛 you made the slight mistake of not specifically telling him what bones you exactly liked, so he brings you human bones.

💛 Once you correct him and tell him you ment animal bones he made it his mission to search every single spot for one.

💛 on every note he left you there will be a very tiny animal tooth attached to it.

💛 he'll forget sometimes and accidentally give you human bones again

Thomas Hewitt-

Has a bone obsession too.

🧡 He too has a bone obsession and he made a little case dedicated to y'all's obsession.

🧡 Like Bubba he will not get the assignment unless specifically told animal bones.

🧡 ever since you moved in with the Hewitts you've noticed more and more bone decor. (Tommy just wants you to this the house is nice)

🧡 He got a *your favorite animal* skull tattoo because it reminds him of you <3

Authors note- Hello hello 👋 I hope you enjoyed! Requests are open!!!! Have a lovely day<3

Ps. @stitcheswashere13 was my old account that had a lot of problems with, if you liked my content of there and wondered where I went I'm now here!

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away-ward · 10 months

Text

Arrival

Summary: On the day of Indie's birth, there's one last person to introduce her to. Canon-compliant

Edited July 18, 2023 for grammar and phrasing.

Will

I rocked and bounced and swayed. I could sit down but there was too much energy coursing through my body to keep me seated. Emmy slept in the bed next to me, head resting on the white hospital pillows. Even with IV tubes, hair knotted and sticking to her forehead, and that shitty paper-thin gown, she was still the most beautiful woman.

And mother.

I swallowed, looking down at the little baby in my arms. Thanks to Winter, I've had plenty of practice holding one, not that it stopped me from shaking as the nurse passed her to me. She was so pink and warm and tiny in my large hands. None of Damon's babies were tiny like this. Those boys were monsters from day one.

Not my girl. She was sweet and delicate, with a soft smell and blue eyes that I'm hoping won't stay blue. Green is a Grayson trait, and if one of my kids inherits them, cool, but I'm dying for this one to get her mother's chocolate-browns.

Two light knocks at the door before it cracked open. I knew who to expect. Hours after the delivery, most everyone came through and left, promising to return in the morning after Emmy and baby had a chance to rest. Only one person hadn't shown their face yet.

The door open to reveal two black eyes glinting in the light that spilled in from the hall way as Damon let himself in without a word. He closed the door and kept the lights off, leaving us in the pale glow from the window. Leaning back casually, arms crossed over his chest, he watched me hold my child with a superior smirk.

Irritation simmered in my chest. At first, I was pissed he wasn't here. I knew it was his need for revenge that kept him away. He had to make a point. I regretted not being there for Ivarsen, and I've told him that. I thought we were in the clear, but as Em and I were allowed visitors, I couldn't ignore the stab of pain at his no-show. With each group, the joy I had became clouded by the bitterness of him not being there. I tried to hide the way I scanned the room, looking for him, but Em still caught it. Each time, she'd take my hand, squeezing it once to bring me back to the moment.

Looking at him now, I was just happy that I didn't have to share this with anyone else.

My smile broke the tension first as I tore my gaze from him. I had to, because for some reason, I couldn't look away from the new life in my arms for too long. When I confirmed once again that she's real and she was there, I looked back up. My vision blurred and I realized, a bit embarrassingly, those are tears.

I was crying.

Again.

Stupid fuck. My smile grew.

Damon grinned. "Are you dad now?"

I knew if I tried to speak, my voice would fail me, so I swallowed and nodded. Damon shoved off the door, walking closer to inspect the newest addition to our constantly growing family.

"About time you started catching up," he critiqued, peering closer. He lifted a brow, pretending to be unimpressed. "This the foretold William IV?"

I laughed. We had decided to follow Damon and Winter in keeping the gender a mystery until their arrival, but we made no secret that we were hoping for a boy – the next William. We knew either way we'd be over the moon, but between Mads, and Ivar and Gunnar, none of us really expected this.

And I guess newborns don't look all that different, but I was a little offended he'd think my son would be so small and soft.

"You ready for this?" I challenged. Damon lifted a brow in questions and I tilted my daughter to meet the face of who I knew would be her favorite uncle. "D, meet Indie Aspen Grayson. The first, if she so chooses."

I swear I felt his heart stop. He looked from her to me back to her, eyes wide. It wasn't often I got the jump on him. This was my favorite surprise so far.

"A girl?" he whispered, looking at me. Looking back at her, he said more to himself and with pride, "Our first girl."

I shrugged. "Well, technically Athos -"

His cutting glare shut me up. We all loved Athos, and accepted her as one of our own. Somehow, that girl was perfectly suited to the Fane's as if she were made for them, but I wouldn't deny that this felt different.

Indie cooed gently and I immediately went back to rocking her.

"I was downstairs," Damon said. I glance up, reading him. "The entire time. For hours, I've just been sitting down there, waiting for this."

I nodded, accepting his non-apology. "Your point's been made. Don't do it again."

"I'll catch the next one."

I laughed. The next one, huh? I glanced behind me to Em, half expecting to catch her mid-eyeroll.

Turning back to Damon, I asked the one thing I'd been dying to ask since he walked in. "You wanna hold her?"

Damon's chest heaved with a sharp exhale as he raised his arms to take her. I adjusted my hold on the bundle, pausing at the last second.

"You'll give her back, right?" I teased, smiling at him.

He didn't take the bait, his eyes only for Indie as I passed her over. "Maybe. We'll see."

"He will if he knows what's good for him," Emmy muttered from the bed beside us.

I looked down, seeing her half-lidded gaze watching our daughter in Damon's arms, soft smile playing on her lips. I couldn't help myself from leaning down and pressing a kiss to her temple. Hovering over her, so close my eyes couldn't take in all of her at once, I breathed her in. She was a vision. Perfection.

Her hand came up and cupped my cheek. I needed a shave. I needed to go relieve myself. And I could probably use a shower.

But mostly, I needed to see my daughter again.

Emmy's eyes drew away from me to where Damon had moved to the window of the private room. With one more kiss, I left her side to join him, wrapping a hand around his shoulder and looking down at Indie. Her eyes had opened and she was looking at Damon like she knew him. It's possible she recognized his voice. He was around Emmy plenty until the final weeks when she stayed home as a precaution. Even then, Winter came around to keep her company and Damon usually followed soon after. Still, I thought it was something else. Something I couldn't put a name to.

A weaker man might be jealous or suspicious, and I was once, but I understand now. Damon and I, and the others, are one in the same, tangled together and inseparable. Our bond doesn't only cover us; it transfers to what we each love.

"You might not be getting her back after all," he joked. At least, I hoped it was a joke. A part of him sounded serious.

Emmy made a noise behind us, a low groan, and I turned to see her trying to sit up. I glared, silently telling her to stay put. She should know better. Annoyed, she slouched against the pillows, keeping her eyes on Damon's back. God, she's gonna be a great mom.

"About that," I said to him. I looked out at the view of Thunder Bay. The local hospital was small, only three stories, so we weren't towering above the town, but it was enough to get a good eye-full of our kingdom. We were building, moving through our plans at a steady rate. By the time the kids were starting school, we'd have this place well on lock.

But that meant enemies were coming our way.

I'd like to say losing both of us would be unlikely, but Emory lost her parents at eleven years old. She was pregnant for the anniversary of their passing this year and it made us aware just how prepared we need to be.

For everything.

I continued, "Em and I have discussed it, and if anything happens to us, we want you and Winter to step-in." I waited for him to answer but he remained silent. I cleared my throat. "I believe you'd call it a Godparent."

"Though please don't teach her about God," Emmy said.

"Chill, he's been to Sunday School. Used to do confession and all that," I retorted. I was joking awkwardly because he still hadn't answered. "Plus, he's got that rosary. Must mean something, right."

She made another sound of discontent.

Smiling, I looked to Damon. His silence had me worried, though I'd never admit it. Maybe he doesn't want the extra responsibility. He and Winter weren't done having kids, and it's not like my kids would be abandoned if the Torrance's didn't take them in. The only reason we're putting it on paper is for the legality of it; so there's no confusion or hold up in the system. We had no doubt that our family would take them in them if we couldn't be by their side. But of all my friends, nobody would keep them like Damon. He had a sort of ferocious protectiveness over the kids that's even more terrifying than when we were teenagers. Until Mads and Ivars, I didn't know he could get any worse. And Em could act annoyed all she wanted, I knew that like me there wasn't anyone she'd trust more in this scenario.

Finally, he looked over, regarding me for a moment before looking out at the town, but I saw it. I made the right call. Nothing would have ever stopped him from protecting my family if I couldn't.

"Fucking moron," he said, "that's the exact opposite of a Godparent. The term you're looking for is legal guardian."

Ha. Caught him. "So...?"

"Send the papers in the morning."

I laughed. In the morning, he said, as we looked at the sun rising over the horizon.

Notes: I have this idea that Damon would have a special connection with Indie. Thank you for reading/commenting/liking, and spending a few short minutes with me. As always, I'd love to hear you thoughts.

sending my love.

Master List

#devil's night series stuff #willemmy #will grayson iii #emory scott #devil's night series #damon torrance #my fic #post canon

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julemmaes · 11 months

Note

“hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve, testing the waters

- the other notices so they pull them into a hug, smiling as they just watch them melt”

For gwynriel or nessian??? 💕💕💕

Keep them coming girl I'm having so much fun with these ones you have no idea. I also reblogged some others posts with prompt if you need inspo, but feel free to continue really

This can be considered a part two to the previous prompt you sent, but can be read separately

Word count: ~2k

Azriel was tired.

No, he corrected himself mentally, "tired" wasn't even beginning to explain the exhaustion binding his bones. Or how he felt like his eyes could pop out of their sockets at any minute with how swollen and read they were.

Surely staying in the pool the entire afternoon and swimming underwater without any goggles hadn't been the smartest option, but the surprised wows and oohs coming from Nyx whenever he opened his eyes and looked at him had been enough to convince him it was worth it.

Now, he wasn't so sure anymore.

Everyone was crammed in Rhysand and Feyre's huge kitchen—not that anything else in their summer villa could be considered anything but—and he was keeping to himself in the corner that faced the backyard, in case he needed a fast escape plan.

He loved his family, he truly did. But they could be a bit too much from time to time, and now that his only excuse to avoid adult interactions had been put to sleep, he felt like he had to find another way lest people started approaching him.

He sighed to himself, sipping his wine as he cracked another peanut in his fist.

There was another person in the room that could make this less miserable for him, but he really didn't want to pull her out of that bright bubble of laughter that surrounded her.

Azriel looked to the side, glancing at Gwyn.

She was sitting on the edge of the kitchen island closer to him, her hands tucked under her thighs and her naked legs dangling. She was only wearing her bikini bottom and one of his dark blue sweaters and her hair were like a fire avalanche of beauty.

She was stunning.

And he was the luckiest piece of shit ever.

His girlfriend turned his way, tilting her head to the side as if sensing his gaze on her. She flashed him the whitest and brightest smile she could and his heart sunk. She squinted and her freckled nose wrinkled in that adorable way of hers.

He was so lucky.

She frowned slightly, her smile still in place, as if to ask him if everything was okay. He nodded tiredly, assuring her he was good and after a few beats where she observed him attentively, she nodded in turn, convinced, and went back to whatever they were discussing.

He suppressed a smile and hid his chin in his shirt, hoping no one was looking at him and would catch him simping over his love.

When he went to take another swing from his glass and noticed it was empty he huffed, annoyed. And although he was already a bit tipsy and he knew he shouldn't be drinking with how weary he was, he risked his peace to go and retrieve a refill.

He walked slowly to the center of the kitchen, brushing a finger down Gwyn's leg and moving further before she could stop him. He sidestepped Emerie and Mor, who were sitting on the countertop, legs intertwined together, hands on each other. Mor was kissing her fiancée's jaw and Emerie seemed completely oblivious to it as she kept talking.

"All I'm saying is that this house is already big enough," she laughed, dumbfounded. "You definitely don't need to add more rooms or another gazebo, the one you have is perfectly fine."

Cassian snorted, throwing snacks in his mouth like they hadn't just finished a five course meal.

"But wouldn't it be nice if in, let's say, a few years, when everyone starts having kids, they could have their own smaller, cozier gazebo?" Feyre said, leaning with her elbows on the island.

A choking sound cracked the beautiful picture Feyre had been trying to paint, and Cassian started coughing, spitting crumbles and munched up food everywhere. Nesta, standing right next to him, looked at him with such a disgusted face that Azriel had to chuckle.

Elain patted him on the back until he was breathing normally again and at this point, Azriel was wondering how not everyone had caught up on what was going on.

He shook his head as he poured red blood wine in his glass and kept silent as he made his way to Gwyn's side, trying as much as he could to hide behind his girlfriend's frame.

"You good?" Nesta asked her husband, eyeing him with calculated calm.

His brother cleared his throat one last time before nodding.

Azriel noticed Rhysand holding back his own laugh, trying to hide his smirk in his cup of coffee. That was interesting.

So Cassian had told him. Making a quick sweep of the entire room, only Lucien seemed to be in on their secret, considering how shitty of a job he was doing at pretending he wasn't laughing, too.

Bad, bad choice, had his brother made. If Nesta found out Cassian had told so many people, she would have him by the balls. And Rhysand owed him fifty bucks.

"Anyway," Feyre clapped her hands, "I really, really want to build a smaller version of the one we already have."

Azriel tuned her out then, not really caring for this topic and decided to focus on the feather touch caresses his girlfriend was trailing down his forearm.

She did that all the time.

Gwyn unconsciously touched him everywhere. All. The fucking. Time. Didn't matter where they were, what they were doing, who they were with, his girl found a way to have her soft, delicate, slender fingers on him.

And he loved every second of it, but he wanted more.

With his mind fogged by the alcohol and the throb in his head due to the extended time spent with his family, all he needed was a bed and his girlfriend in his arms, but he would never pull her from this place unless she asked him to leave.

And he definitely wouldn't initiate any kind of pda. He had tried, many and many times again, to be the kind of person who could just sweep their lover into their arms and cover them in kisses in front of a room full of people. Unfortunately, he wasn't comfortable with being the one to seek out his partners for fear they would feel forced to accept what he was offering in front of others. So he waited, and waited.

And waited for Gwyn to do more than just brush the tips of her fingers up and down his arm, but she wasn't even looking at him, her back to his chest—and she wasn't even leaning on him.

He brushed the fabric of his sweater, down to the hem of it and tugged slightly. When his girlfriend suddenly laughed he sucked in his breath and moved his hand away, tucking it in the pocket of his shorts.

Stupid man, just touch her.

She'd told him so many times she wanted him to. That she needed him to touch her, even in front of their friends.

He counted to ten and then chickened out again, deciding to go with his trademark request for affection.

He pinched her sleeve and tugged with a bit more strength than before. Gwyn's head shriveled his way and then looked down at his hand, still clasped around the shirt. The corner of her lips curled and then she scoffed, pulling her hand free from under her thigh.

She silently opened her legs, turning more his way but still keeping her attention on the conversation. Azriel knew it was so the other's wouldn't catch up on their actions, so he didn't take it at heart.

Not anymore at least. The first time she'd appeared this disinterested in their affection he'd fallen down a rabbit hole of insecurities and fears that had lasted days.

He took his rightful place in between her legs, letting his hands travel under his shirt and around her naked waist, pulling her closer to him. With her sitting so high from the ground, his head reached just below her chin and when her fingers laced in his hair, she pushed his face right between her covered breasts. Her legs tied around his hips.

He sighed.

Heaven.

His thumbs were drawing circles right above her butt cheeks, where they were safely concealed by the sweater and that was the only sign he hadn't yet fallen asleep. Even though he didn't deem the chance of that too impossible, with the humming rumbling in her chest and the light scratches on his scalp.

Azriel closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, enjoying their scents mixed together. The remnants of sunscreen on her skin, the perfume of her chamomile shampoo, the faint aroma of the cherries she'd been eating all night long.

He loved her.

The head massage she was giving him suddenly stopped and he felt her voice in his very brain when she whispered in his hair, "Are you tired, love?"

He loved when she called him that.

He nodded, "Dead."

She mockingly gasped, quiet enough just for him to hear and then two fingers pressed lightly on his neck. He chuckled, not moving from his position.

"Nuh-uh," Gwyn murmured, "still very much alive."

His only answer was a groan.

She shifted and her legs released him, and the cold that hit him shocked him enough that he moved away from her. Her hands fell to his shoulders and when he looked up at her, she was smiling down at him.

That fucking smile was going to be his death.

Without taking her eyes off of him, Gwyn announced to the room, "I'm taking my big boy to bed. He needs sleep."

Azriel started shaking his head, ready to complain they could stay and force himself through another hour of this torment if it made her happy, but her hands were on his cheeks and she was kissing him before he could open his mouth.

Hoots and hollers rose from the others and Gwyn laughed in the kiss, forcing him to part from her, but he smiled nonetheless.

He didn't deign his family of a goodbye before his girlfriend dragged him out of the kitchen and up to their room, where he finally stripped and laid down for the night.

Gwyn crawled in bed after him, after having changed into just a pair of slips. They both slept naked at home, and they weren't about to change their habits just because they were on holiday.

She curled around him, chest to chest, their legs finding their way to intricate without making it uncomfortable. Gwyn left a kiss on his collarbone before tilting her head back and looking him in the eyes, leaving another incredibly soft kiss on his chin.

He was having the hardest time keeping his eyes opened, and he only managed to brush his lips against hers before sleep overtook him.

#gwyneth berdara #azriel #gwynriel fluff #side nessian #side feysand #side emorie #acotar #acotar fic

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