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foxybananaaaz · 8 months

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Let's talk about my FIRST theory for House of Flame and Shadow that I just thought about this morning while talking with my friend.

Also also, I have not seen this theory out there. I haven't seen many theories at all(on purpose). SO THIS MEANS, if this theory is already out there, I did NOT steal it. It would be nice to know, though, so I can make an edit, stating that I was not the first to come up with it.

⚠️ Spoilers for Entire SJM!Verse ⚠️

Continue reading below the cut

《 The Hind knelt before her undying masters and contemplated how it would feel to tear out their throats. 》

- House of Flame and Shadow, first sentence(officially released)

Lidia is a new POV this book! Which got me thinking... who else might be new POVs?

Sadly, I feel it's unlikely our ACOTAR gang will get POVs... But who knows? We might be surprised with just one of them getting it.

If so, if we are graced with a POV from one of our ACOTAR characters, I feel it might be Amren, though. This is because she was the one to understand Bryce's language first. She was also the one to recognize the Star Sword. So, if we are lucky enough where we do get an ACOTAR POV, it will probably be Amren.

Which, okay? I'm not sure how I personally feel about that. She really annoyed me in Silver Flames. After the scene where she was telling Rhys about using Nesta and her swords to become High King, that's when Amren started annoying me. It seemed she cared more about power than politics.

Politically speaking, it's better for Rhys to stay High Lord. He knows this. Of course, he knows this. He's great at politics. But for power? High King is better.

And with this in mind, where it seems Amren cares more about power? Think about how powerful Bryce is. Also, remember the fact that there IS a war brewing amongst the courts of Prythian. The scene mentioned above takes place because Amren and Rhys know about it, AFTER Eris tells them how his father is itching for it. I kind of feel how the war was shoved to the side, though.

This is because we have Koschei. He was there helping Briallyn in Silver Flames. All signs are pointing to Elucien being endgame, and it's also obvious that the next book will be Azriel, given his bonus chapter, and that he will end up with Gwyn. So that leaves the last book being Eluciens' book.

Now, Lucien lives in the Human Lands, with Jurien, and who else? Oh yeah! Vassa!! Who is currently cursed, and on borrowed time with her freedom from Koschei, because the deal Papa Archeron made with him.

Given that Koschei was tied to Briallyn, it's safe to assume he will have something to do with the villain of Azriels' book. And with Lucien being friends with Vassa, and it being the last book, this would be where we face down with him.

But I've made a few posts about that already. This post isn't about that, though.

So, what about the war, that's been foreshadowed, you know, the one Eris mentioned, and the one that led Amren to her idea that Rhys should be High King before it's too late?

When's that plot going to happen?

I honestly feel that it might just happen with Bryce in Prythian?

"Oh, but you can't have one series plot happen in another series! The readers who don't read Crescent City will wonder where that plot went!" To which I respond with... Illyrian Uprising, from Frost and Starlight. Where did it go in Silver Flames?

I know it didn't go to another series, but this wouldn't be the first time someone wondered where a plot from her books went. It even happened in the same series.

Also, sidenote, I've made a few posts mentioning this war and gotten replies saying, "Oh yeah! I completely forgot about the war being foreshadowed!"

Would it be at all a smart move? No. But when you think about it, it would make sense.

Think of how pushy Amren was with the High King business, after learning just how powerful Nesta truly was, if she could feel the power coming off simple weapons she made. Again, this is coming after the information Eris gave them about his father's itching for a war amongst the courts.

Now, enter Bryce Quinlan, or I guess, legally, it's Bryce Danaan(Nope! Nooo DO NOT LIKE THAT!) now? Either way, she's always going to be Bryce Adelaide Quinlan to the family that loves her, and to us.

Anyway, now that Bryce is with us in Prythian, and I've already mentioned that it feels that Amren cares more about power than politics, just remember how powerful Bryce is. How far down she went when making the drop. She even passed her father's depth.

So, of course, when Amren learns this, she will be on Rhys' ear, telling him to make a deal. Help her if she helps them stop the war amongst courts before it happens(not yet knowing how to do that). She will also want to help Bryce learn how to use her powers without someone like Hunt activating her. Just like she wanted to help Nesta.

Also, the fact that it's confirmed by Sarah, that Amren was an Angel(potentially an ArchAngel?), could she be from the world of Crescent City before it became more modernized, with all the technology.

Is being from the same world how she can understand Bryce? If so, she would know how terrifying the Asteri are, and hearing Bryces story, she would want to come up with a way to serve their purpose gaining more power, but ALSO keep Bryce safe from the Asteri for as long as possible.

Once Bryces end of this deal is completed, then Nesta will use the Harp to help get Bryce to wherever it is she needs to go.

Thus ending the hypothetical Amren POV chapters. Though, obviously, we would have Prythian in both Bryce and Amren, so.. yeah.

ALSO ALSO,

I'd like to think Nesta would tag along with Bryce, after learning that she needs to go to Hel, then back to Lunathian. This way, Bryce wouldn't be stranded again, in case she couldn't activate the horn.

Bonus points if, by using the Harp, they drop into Terresen, literally right in front of the royal family, and Aelins just there like

But we know she will, because she's Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, the Fire Breathing Bitch Queen. And if her kingdom or friends are in danger, then I almost feel sorry for the ones putting them in danger.

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comfortfiction · 2 years

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no way 😭

#elriel #anti gwynriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #crescent city #cc #house of sky and breath #house of earth and blood #hoeab #hosab

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shadowsxgwynriel · 2 years

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A fawn ✅ 🥰

Shadow magic ✅ 😈

Spy couple ✅ 🥵

Potential mates ✅ 🤭

Forbidden love ✅ 🥺

Elain and Azriel ❌ 👎

Lidia and Ruhn ✅ 💞

#pro gwynriel #azriel #lidia cervos #ruhn danaan #elain archeron #ruhnlidia #acotar #acosf #house of sky and breath #cresent city #anti e/riel #sjm

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pollyaunt · 2 years

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same bryce baby same

#anti danika fendyr #ct reads hosab #hosab spoilers #house of sky and breath #sjm #bryce x danika #bryce quinlan #cc2 spoilers #crescent city

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bryceandhunt · 7 months

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Look. It’s just. Remember Rhysand??? And Rowan…. Cassian. Lorcan. It’s like I know what a SJM love interest can be and Hunt is just not doing it for me

#hunt athalar #hunt x bryce #bryce quinlan #this isnt an anti post #hes just not my fave. a little boring #crescent city #hoeab #hosab #hofas #House of earth and blood #house of sky and breath

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roll-of-royces · 2 months

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L&DS Drabble (With AFAB Reader)

Content: Something terrible happens, it only makes sense that you would end up here at Zayne's door.

Rating: T for trauma

Spoilers: Chapter 4

Word Count: 1309

Your training tells you in some deeper part of your brain that you are in a state of shock. There's blood dripping down your fingers, and burns in your clothes. Caleb's necklace is in your hand, clenched tight around the gone warm metal.

People are giving you a wide berth, the ones that try to assist you, you only shrug off. You're not entirely sure where you're going, bloody and ruined until you see the door. Zayne.

This is where Zayne lives. You reach for the handle, it is a bio-imprinted lock instead of a key. It's likely keyed into his handprint. The door handle flashes green and slides open. Strange, it must have been left unlocked. That's not like him.

You step into the main living space, freezing at the entryway as you try to recall how to take off your shoes. Does it matter? Does anything matter? You're about to get blood all over the clean floorboards anyway.

Stumbling forward your toes catch on the raised entrance and you crash forward. You're brain is so slow. Too slow. You hit the ground hard, a rush of breath leaves you and you lay there the world spinning. Are you spinning?

You're not dying, you know that. There's not enough blood, and yet you feel like you're dying. Because the necklace is still in your grip and you can still see the fire, smell the ash, see the lone bloody remains of your grandmother's hand.

For a while, you drift in place, stuck in the loop of the explosion. You are there, on the front steps of your family home and then you are in Zayne's house. It loops like that for a long time and still, you don't sleep.

The door behind you opens, there's a pause and you hear Zayne exhale a breath that sounds terribly like your name. And then he's crouching over you, rolling you carefully onto your back. You meet his wide eyes and watch the terror in them fade to calm when he sees you blink.

"Where does it hurt?" He asks, but you don't need to tell him; he's already going through his paces, figuring out what is blood and what is burn damage.

He lets out another sharp breath before leaning back. Zayne moves to your side and then you're up, high up in the air. In his arms, in the sky. You're floating. You nuzzle your face into his labcoat, he still smells of the hospital.

There's the harsh scent of anti-septic and whatever other chemicals mix in the surgery room. It's nice, it's a better smell than the smoking remnants of your clothes and family. You're pressed down on something cold and with a shift of your head, woozy though it is, realize it's his dining room table.

"Am I dying, Doctor Zayne?" You ask, trying to sound light, trying to tease him like you love to do.

Instead of the dismissive playful huff of breath you're used to his body quivers. "No, but I need to examine you. Don't move."

You look up at the chandelier, his house is nice. You've never been inside before, but that doesn't surprise you. He's one of the best doctors in Linkon, he has to be well-paid for his contributions. There's a shuffle, the tap of glass onto his stone counter, and then Zayne is leaning over you again.

He's got his thousand meter doctor stare back, all cold and focused. You want to reach out and poke his nose. Instead, you whisper, "Caleb and grandma are dead."

Zayne flinches. "Did you receive these injuries when that happened?"

"They were in the house." You say as tears flood your vision. They burn your eyes before running down into your hair. "I was in the yard, I was going in. I was about to ... " A sob chokes out of you. "They're gone."

He's treating your hand, not the one with the necklace but the other. But you can see the way he grinds his teeth. It's not like he didn't know them, you all grew up together. Unlike you, Zayne doesn't fall apart, he keeps working. "How close were you to the explosion? Where were you in the yard?"

"I don't remember." You try to think, but you've been in the yard so many times. You've traveled up those steps a hundred times, every single day after school, walking with Caleb. Coming and going to see friends. The blast threw you back.

"Zayne." You don't even know why you're trying to get his attention, "It hurts."

He leans over you, one hand propped up by your head. "Where?"

"Everywhere. How can I do this without them?"

He leans in closer, looking at your eyes. He's searching for something. "You don't have a concussion. I know you are grieving ... but I need you to focus on what is in your control. I have to make sure - I need you to be alright. Tell me if this causes any discomfort?"

From there Zayne goes about examining every inch of you. He presses on your ribs, chest, knees. Zayne bends every finger and toe, all of it clinical and methodical. By the time he starts his double-checking, you're barely aware he's touching you.

☆☆☆☆☆

You wake up in a room you don't recognize. There are plush blankets bundled around you, it's dark, the moon is high. You can make out its glowing facade through the wide bay window. It takes a moment for you to recognize the shape of a figure outlined by the moon.

Zayne is awake, staring out the window. You can make out the whites of his eyes as he looks out at the dark. You're in his bed, in his bedroom. Now that you're somewhat aware of your surroundings, you're aware of how much you ache.

There's a glass of water by the bed; you reach for it and as you pick it up, it slips from your weak grasp and hits the floor with a thunk splashing water everywhere. He startles, before he's on his feet.

"I'm sorry." You frown at the puddle.

"It's alright." He steps into a bathroom and returns with a towel, tossing it down carelessly at the water. "I'll get more. Try not to move too much."

When he returns he holds the glass for you, helping you drink. Forcing you to not choke or drink too quickly. He sets the empty glass down on the end table. "You need more rest."

He stands, intending to leave; all you can do is reach out and grab his wrist. Your hand shakes with the attempt to hold onto him as tightly as you can. "Don't go."

Zayne nods, giving in, and loops back around until he is sliding into bed with you. This isn't exactly what you expected, but the comfort, his closeness is welcome. He sits on top of the blankets, back propped against the headboard.

His hair looks so dark in the low light, his jaw stern, nose sharp. Beautiful. He has always been beautiful. Should you tell him?

"Can I ... " You look up at him, shuffling closer. "Can I spend my holidays with you?"

The idea of being alone on the days that used to be filled with your family makes something ache inside you deeper than the wounds that coat your skin. There's a hopelessness to it.

His hand cards through your hair, normally you'd be shocked. You'd jump and stumble over your words and blush, but today you only sink deeper into his bed. "As many as you would like."

You close your eyes as he keeps running his fingers through your hair, when you're almost asleep he asks, "Why did you come here of all places?"

You don't bother to open your eyes when you reply, "I didn't know where else to go."

#l&ds #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x mc #don't worry doctor Zayne will make it all better

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blithesharem · 5 months

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9 Days of Solomon

Day 1: Stars

Wahoo! I'm so excited to be participating with fic for the 9 Days of Solomon event dreamt up by @impish-ivy !

My first entry is a SFW fic that takes place early on in Nightbringer. I wanted to write Solomon being worried and frantic (in his own way) since he's always so chill and collected. I think a truly angry/worried Solomon would be a very frightening sight indeed...

There is no North Star in the Devildom.

At least, not one that you know. If you were home, you may have been able to sort yourself out, pick a constellation that looked familiar and point your toes toward it. But even though Belphegor and Satan have started to teach you about their constellations, the sky still appears alien to you, like a face you know you should recognize but don’t.

Which means you are still very very lost.

“Explain to me exactly what happened.”

Solomon is smiling but his eyes are cold, and there is a tension in the air that carries a threat not quite spoken aloud. Though he’s standing casually, leaning a hip against the table in the House of Lamentation, his knuckles are white where he grips his lower arms.

There is a stretch of silence when no one answers him, and his smile widens tightly.

“Let’s just all take a deep breath!” Asmo bursts out with forced cheeriness and a sharp clap of his hands, flicking his gaze from Solomon to his brothers and back again.

“Oh, rest assured Asmodeus, I am very calm,” Solomon replies quickly, “I am just a bit curious as to how seven demons managed to lose my apprentice.” Lucifer clears his throat and stands, taking a protective step forward though Solomon’s smile never slips. He’s not afraid of the sorcerer’s wrath, but his brothers are foolish and worried and he doesn’t see the sense in letting one of them provoke Solomon.

“It was a mistake,” he says firmly, “Obviously. Mammon and Satan are already looking and will find them soon, I’m sure. The rest of us will begin searching as well. Diavolo has already been alerted –“

“Oh good!” Solomon says brightly, volume growing as he pushes off from the table and a crackle of electricity makes the room charge with static, “Diavolo has been alerted. Well then, I’m sure all is right as rain. After all, it’s not as though there’s anything at risk here-”

“You know very well I didn’t mean to imply that,” Lucifer snaps, but Solomon ignores him and snaps his gaze back to Belphegor who recoils slightly.

“Since we have all the time in the world, let’s return to my question, shall we?” he hums, leaning forward to force the demon to look at him, “What happened to my apprentice?”

It was supposed to have been just a silly prank.

You sigh, rubbing your hands up your arms and jumping in place in an effort to warm yourself. You seem to have been dropped into an arid landscape, cracked clay stretching as far as your eye can see, with occasional scraggly foliage breaking up the horizon. Despite the desert-like appearance, it’s freezing, and a cool wind has picked up at your back.

It would have been no problem for Lucifer, who’d been the original target of the curse. Because of course he had. The newly formed Anti-Lucifer league had been so confident. And, to be fair, so had you. In general, you’d taken sort of a neutral stance with Satan and Belphie’s antics. Lucifer seemed to almost enjoy the attention, and the boys were clearly bonding over it. You’d tried to dissuade them from anything that might cause physical damage to the house but beyond that let them go pretty wild.

This was the first time doing so had bitten you in the ass.

In the distance, something howled. You give a soft curse, turning to try and decipher how far away it might be. Everyone was always going on and on about how dangerous the Devildom could be for a human, but you never really took it all that seriously until now. Then again, you’d always had your pacts to rely on. Sure, you weren’t completely helpless. You had your own magic. But you didn’t want to push your limits when you didn’t know how long you might be stuck out here. That was part of the reason you’d resisted making a fire to warm yourself. But if the temp kept dropping…

Once more, you turn in a circle, trying to find something, anything that you could use as a landmark to ground yourself. Finally, in the light of the quartered moon, you thought you see a dark ripple of what might have been forest in the distance. If you could find some trees, maybe you could climb one to get a view from above. At the very least, it should give you some shelter from the wind.

Huffing air on your fingers, you begin to walk, choosing a brisk pace to try and warm yourself.

It had been a very long time since Solomon had felt true fear.

What did an immortal have to fear? He’d been able to look after himself for a long time now. Even after he’d met you his confidence in his abilities meant that when things had gotten dicey, he’d known he’d do whatever it took to look after you. Because you’d always been there. The one time you weren’t, he’d even managed to follow you, chasing your footprint through time to make sure he’d always be by your side to protect your fragile mortal life. So now, having you gone, not knowing how much danger you might be in, how badly you might already be hurt…

Well, it was making Solomon feel a bit insane. A part of him that stayed detached could almost observe it calmly: how hard it was for him to follow a thought or form a theory, the racing of his heart, and the tightness in his stomach that was only growing more rotten as the hours without a trace of you stretched on. This detached part was a bit in awe over how human these feelings felt, and how long it had been since he’d suffered them. The insane part was certain he’d slaughter any demon he could get his hands on if anything had happened to you.

He pulled back from his scrying pool, where he’d been searching every location he could think of for you. Rubbing his fists over his strained eyes he let out a deep, frustrated exhale. Beside him, Barbatos remained silent. He knew better than to try to offer words of encouragement or admonishment. Besides, he was equally frustrated. He couldn’t use his sight to find you if he didn’t have a trail to follow, and so far it appeared you were restraining from using your magic.

Neither of them wanted to think about what that might mean.

“Finally…” you groan, skidding down a dry embankment to see you were just yards out from the tree line. It wasn’t exactly the most welcoming of forests, the trees old and dark, all jagged edges and sharp needles. But it was better than the desolation you’d come from, and you eagerly jog the final distance into their shelter.

Despite being sheltered from the wind, it felt almost colder now that you were under cover. The light of the stars couldn’t penetrate, and the darkness was absolute. You slow your pace, trying to get a handle on the fear that began to take root. Your humanity knew this wasn’t a place you belonged.

Walking a bit further, you focus on trying to find a tree with low enough branches for you to climb. Finally, you find one that seems well suited, several snapped limbs offering short footholds that allow you to awkwardly heave yourself up.

The labor from there is long and hard. The bark is sharp, and soon you’ve rubbed the palms of your hands raw. You fear the scent of blood is being caught on the wind, because it seems now that the howls are drawing closer. In your chest your little human heart is pounding, as if it could urge you with its pace to abandon your efforts and flee back into the open. You knew though that you needed this vantage point or you’d be truly lost in the darkness, and there was no way you were going to be wandering deeper into the forest without knowing which direction you were heading in.

Finally, breathing labored and sweat trickling down your spine, you crest the tops of your neighboring trees. Your chosen sentinel was thinning too, but you feel sturdy enough to pause and get your bearings.

One more, the stars greet you, all the more brilliant after adjusting your eyes to the darkness of the woods. You twist, trying to see in all directions. The desert from which you came seemed to stretch forever, and your hopes of finding salvation through the forest were dashed as well, a black and infinite ocean of trees all you could see. To your right, you weren’t sure, but you thought it seemed to get hilly, and to the left…

Possibly? You squint, wondering if you were imagining the distant glow that might indicate a collection of lights. Lights meant people. Or demons. Whatever. It was something. And you were willing to take your chances on a demon that might eat you over whatever that howling thing was that certainly wanted to eat you. Besides, your signal wasn’t for either of them. There was only one whose attention you wanted.

Closing your eyes, you draw your time weakened magic to you, gathering heat in your belly and envisioning your desired spell. Murmuring under your breath, you stretch a palm to the stars. With a rushing release of energy that leaves you almost too weak to keep clinging, a brilliant shock of sparks blasts over your head. It lights up the area in a beacon, shooting into the sky like a firework.

And somewhere, many miles away, a sorcerer begins to laugh with relief.

#9 Days of Solomon #obey me solomon

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stargirlie25 · 2 months

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Bryce found Nesta in the same room the female had been in before. With Ember and Randall and a handsome, vaguely familiar winged male beside them, who smelled like Nesta’s mate. Sitting around a table and talking over tea and chocolate cake.

Oh well would you look at that! Bryce smelling Nessians mating bond!

Just like how Azriel smelled Elains bond with Lucien?

But since Az is Elains mate for that one reason then bryce and cassian? Bryce and Nesta?

No.

Its just that others can smell another mating bond. That simple.

#acotar #pro elain #elucien #pro elucien #anti elriel #anti e/riel #hosab #house of sky and breath #cc #crescent city 3 #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar #quinlar #ruhnlidia #nessian #pro nesta #pro nessian #cassian

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greenleaf777 · 4 months

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Have the people who ship Bryce and Azriel even read Crescent City???

Besides Azriel’s clear and obvious feelings for Elain, Bryce is head-over-heels cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs in love with Hunt. They’re IT for each other. CHOSEN and TRUE MATES

Even if Hunt died she wouldn’t just move on with someone else 😂 you have to be joking. It’s like shipping Rhys with Aelin…..

#elriel #quinlar #bryce x hunt #anti brycriel #crescent city #house of sky and breath #house of flame and shadow #house of earth and bone #hofas #cc hosab #cc hofas #cc hoeab

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

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This headcanon/fic hybrid has been updated and partially rewritten to have a proper beginning, more fleshed out middle, a new ending, and better perspective. You can find it here! Anonymous asked:

Lionlander?! Idea!

What if I'm some way somehow S/o ran into Homelander and a whole scenario played out like the Lion with the thorn stuck in his paw and Homelander being the lion of course and little s/I bring the mouse lol. I can imagine it now! Homelander being in some situation where he can't believe he actually needs help (not sure what kind of situation that would be lol) uhhh how could the great Homelander get himself stuck in this mess?! Then little short adorable s/o comes along just ordinary and minding her own business and notices poor Homelander in his situation she doesn't laugh or get scared despite his grumpiness towards her instead she just smiles sweetly and comes over and helps him... Being completely warm and friendly wanting to make a new friend rather than run away...

OOHHH you know, I've been pondering the repercussions of a possible "kryptonite" for Homelander being discovered. An Anti-V, if you will. Imagine he's soaring through the sky and hears something whistling through the air behind him. Some kind of projectile? a small missile, maybe? It's nothing he hasn't handled before. It could blow up in his hand and he would be fine.

In that split second he has to react, he decides to forego dodging it, and see where it's coming from, honing in his vision, except as it gets nearer, his vision begins to tunnel. What the fuck? His reflexes slow, and before he knows it, the projectile strikes him in the chest, fumes filling his lungs and coating his skin. He feels like he's been turned inside out. Suddenly he's plummeting towards the ground, and crashes directly into your backyard, an eruption of snow and yard furniture.

He's out like a light, and when you muster up the courage to approach him, he's not moving. Oh god, he's not breathing. In your panic, your brain shuts off, and you act without thinking.

When Homelander comes to, he's being shaken. No, compressed, hands over his chest, pulsing again and again in a rhythm. Warm lips press against his, and a rush of air fills his lungs. His eyes snap open, and out of pure reflex, he shoves you away from him, sitting up with a frenzied look in his eyes.

You should have flown back thirty feet with a shove like that. Instead, you only fell back onto your ass. Homelander's hands are shaking as he looks at them, and he can feel blood dripping from his ears, taste it in his mouth. He's disoriented, his whole body feels heavy. He's having trouble breathing, and his heart is pounding.

"Someone tried to kill me," he rasps in disbelief. Not surprised that someone tried, but that someone very nearly succeeded. "Someone... Someone tried to fucking kill me," he says again, growing more hysteric the more the pain sets in.

He's wild-eyed, breathing erratic, and you're afraid he's about to put himself into cardiac arrest. He may not have his usual strength, but the brutal way he punched his palm into your chest was still no joke.

"Homelander!" You address sharply, trying to rein in your own bubbling panic. What if whoever tried to kill him is coming for him? "I can help you, okay? Let me help you."

Maybe it's something in the tone of your voice, equal parts authoritative and compassionate, or maybe it's the degree of his vulnerability sinking in, but after a second of dumbfounded staring, Homelander nods.

It's pure adrenaline that gives you the strength to help him into your house. He's practically dead weight in your arms, barely keeping himself on his feet as you both stumble into your living room. The height difference does neither of you any favors.

You get him down onto the couch before fetching a wet rag and a first aid kit. As you lean over him, he sees a mottled mark blossoming darkly across the center of your chest, just under your collarbone, approximately the size of his palm.

Without thinking, he reaches up to touch it. You startle, looking down where he touches. You now notice the beginnings of the bruise, too. "Don't worry about me," you tell him, as comforting as you can muster. It stings where he presses his fingers in, the skin tender. You grasp his wrist and gently lay it back down at his side.

I'm not worried about you, he thinks numbly. "That should have caved in your chest."

"Guess it's my lucky day, then," you say absently, more focused on using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his temple, up into his hairline, seeking the injury. You're meticulous but gentle in the way you handle him, cupping the side of his face to turn him one way, then another. "I think these need stitches," you say, brows furrowed. Homelander's gaze lingers on your lips as you speak.

What kind of person sees someone fall out of the fucking sky, and then thinks to give them CPR?

"I'm calling an ambulance," you say, moving to stand. Homelander catches you by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"No, no, not... Don't do that," he says, screwing his eyes shut briefly. No one else can know that this happened. Besides, if those psychopaths are still out there, it will draw them right to him. "Too much attention, I just... give me a fucking minute," he says, flexing his hands. They still feel weak, tingling like they've fallen asleep, but the pain is beginning to abate.

Whatever was done to him, it doesn't seem to be permanent.

Thank fucking Christ.

"Okay," you say tentatively. Instead, you continue wiping the blood from his face, gently rubbing it from his temples, down his jaw. Homelander watches you like a hawk, rolling his fingers in and out of fists, gradually feeling his strength return to him.

He's unaccustomed to the way you're handling him. One hand cupping his jaw, ginger in the way you move his head, though only when you absolutely need to. The concern wrinkled between your brows is so palpable, so sincere, he almost forgets you're strangers.

"What're you doing?" He asks, voice low, nearly a growl.

You pause, looking down to meet his eye. "Oh, I just... There's still blood, and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Your response tightens something in his chest, like a steel coil wrung too tight. It's uncomfortable. He feels small, vulnerable, and the tenderness of your touch is doing nothing for the feel of it.

"I don't need you," he snaps defensively. "I'm fine."

"Okay," you respond, aggravatingly calm. Still soothing. "What do you need?"

Homelander opens his mouth, but hesitates. Your earnestness is infuriating, waiting on baited breath for what you can do for him. He closes his mouth, jaw tight. His gaze flickers back down to the bruise on your chest. It's darker now, varying shades of purple and yellow fading into one another.

Looking back up at you, Homelander evens his expression. "Close the blinds," he says, gesturing with his head to the window, where you have twinkling white Christmas lights strung up. "I need to lay low awhile." Though he can feel his powers steadily returning, it would be foolish to fly before nightfall. Whoever shot at him could have another round loaded and waiting. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll find out who it was, and rip out their fucking spine.

You've already gotten up to do as he asked, drawing the blinds down, and then closing the curtains over them. Afterwards, you turn to leave.

"Hey," Homelander calls, frowning. You stop in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"The kitchen," you answer, hand on the doorframe. "You can call if you need something."

"Stay here," Homelander says, ignoring the bit of petulance he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't care if you're confused. He doesn't care that he doesn't entirely understand himself. He just wants you to stay.

Homelander watches you take a seat at the end of the couch, near his feet. He exhales, closing his eyes. It isn't as though you could do anything if proficient killers did appear, but for whatever reason, no matter how useless you would ultimately be, he feels better for having you near.

After half an hour, his senses begin to sharpen again. It begins as a dull, irritating buzz at first, but grows gradually more clear. Of all the commotion he's becoming aware of, he fixates on your breathing to drown out the rest.

After an hour, he learns your name, that you work from home, you like decorating for Christmas, even when you spend it alone, and that you've lived a thoroughly dull, ordinary little life until this very moment.

From his observations , he's learned the rhythm of your heartbeat, that you touch your face when you're nervous, and that you would rather laugh than take any of his disparaging remarks about your mundane life to heart.

"I think it's very lucky for you that I am so boring. I might not have been here otherwise," you counter. Your smile is so utterly charming, Homelander forgets to refute your point. Instead, much to your alarm, he sits up.

"Oh, steady. Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, standing as he does. Homelander stretches his hands out in front of him, and then curls his arms back in. Exhaling, his eyes flare crimson. He likes the way it makes your heart jump when he looks at you through the red glow.

Homelander's lips quirk, lasers fading out. "Good as new," he says confidently, though the aches of his fall still linger in his joints. He takes a few long strides across your living room, pausing in the doorway to your kitchen, where he can see through to your yard, and the absolute crater he left in it.

"Vought will... take care of that," he says, gesturing vaguely to the destruction.

You can't help but laugh, crossing your arms. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm just glad you're alright," you say honestly, staring out into the wreckage of your yard.

Homelander purses his lips slightly, glancing at you from his peripheral. Above him, he feels something brush the top of his head. When he glances up, what he sees hung in the doorway makes him smile deviously.

Without warning, Homelander puts his hands on your waist, and pulls you to him, lips landing warm and firm on yours. He absolutely devours the surprised little noise you make against him, halfway tempted to see what other sounds he can wring from you. He hears your heart begin to race, and much to his delight, you kiss him back. You even surprise him by grabbing the back of his neck, sinking deeper into the kiss.

When Homelander pulls back, you're flushed prettily from the tip of your nose to the tips of your ears.

"What... was that?" You ask, dazed.

"Mistletoe," he purrs. You look up when he points, and huff a gentle little laugh, nodding at the aforementioned ornament dangling above you.

"Is this your way of saying thank you?" You ask playfully, your shoulders relaxing. "I hope you're still going to pay for my yard."

It's Homelander's turn to chuckle. "Oh, no. I haven't said thank you yet," he says, hands lingering on your hips. He'd only meant it to be a quick thing, but now you're toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. He licks his lips.

There's still a couple more hours until sundown. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll figure out exactly what the fuck he got blasted by. For now, he owes you a proper thank you, and himself a little Christmas treat for his trouble.

#hahaha I CHEATED and made it christmas themed!!!!!#this got WILDLY out of hand it was too long to post as an ask lmao #homelander x reader #homelander x you #my writing #depowered homelander #gonna have to go back and make that a proper tag since it's a running theme now #this definitely started as a headcanon and then went off the rails #ask and you shall receive #darling anon

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itsgrimeytime · 4 days

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Home is Where the Heart is (Part Ten) || Farmer!Rick Grimes (TWD) x Teacher!GN!reader AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9...

Taglist: @1tsk1tty

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker @zomb-1-egutzz

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Like Real People Do by Hozier and Begin Again by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your life was spinning out of control, you knew that. After a string of particularly shattering events, you decided it was time to start anew. With a little help from one of your Grandma's rentals, you found yourself in the small town of Alexandria. The last thing you expected was your neighbor, Rick Grimes.

TWs: kinda anti-Lori, a lil bit of crying, alluding to sex (nothing graphic), and mentioned child abandonment.

[[A/N: Fun fact, I based the multiplication tables on actual posters I had as a kid. And yes, I did have physical multiplication tables on my walls, I was a nerd. This one is quite the rollercoaster. Enjoy :))]

You woke up early that morning, dancing around your house trying to gather everything up. It was almost 2 weeks until school started, and you had honestly never been more panicked in your life.

Grabbing stacks of paper and a few colorful posters you saved from your job in the city, you pushed open the door and unloaded it into your car. It wasn't your first trip to the car that morning, and it was starting to get a little tedious (you would've been frustrated if you weren't so nervous).

Slipping them into the trunk, you took a big breath out of your lungs and readied yourself up for another load. There was a lot more than you'd thought there'd be to decorate a classroom-

"Mornin', darlin'," a voice called to you, and you immediately spun on your toes to meet the one and only Rick Grimes.

It had been a few days since you'd seen him. You started working over at his house, so you wouldn't be running yourself into the ground again. He kept you hydrated and fed, and if you got stressed, he'd kiss your temple or drag you away from the computer. It was a really nice change of pace. You'd been relatively less stressed because of it, except for, well, now.

Rick was leaning against the fence, sleeves rolled up past his elbows (a worn flannel that maybe he wore just for morning work, you noted), and forearms on full display. You could see dirt on his hands though, and you realized it was early enough he must have been working too. Grinning at you and blue eyes twinkling, a stray curl hanging over his face (you had the instinct to comb it back). He actually looked a little messy, imperfect even, who knew he could do that?

Making your way over to him, you chimed with a bright smile, "Hey, loverboy, funny seeing you here."

He laughed, eyes swimming all over your face as you stood in front of him, "'Could say the same for you, ya know."

You smiled, teasing, "You always watch me like that?"

He let out a low chuckle, eyes intently focused on you -you really were never going to get used to that, "Only sometimes."

Laughing, you gently combed the curl back in its place and while you were at it fixed the rest of the muss of his hair. It looked a little like a bedhead, so you spent a little longer fixing it. Rick just watched you do so, maybe a little fondly.

"'S gettin' a lil' long, ain't it?" he offered, and you looked at it for a moment -the bundle of curls almost reached the bottom of his neck.

"Rick, believe me when I say this," you moved your hand to his cheek -mock-serious, "-I will kill you if you cut your hair."

Rick let out a full-body laugh at that one, head tilting up to the sky. You smiled at the noise, heart lurching in your chest.

"Don't get me wrong," you clarified, hand still in place "-I've seen the pictures, and you are very handsome with short hair-"

He just smiled at you, eyes trickling all over your features. It made you want to fidget a little.

"-in fact, I think you'd be handsome with any hair, actually-"

Rick leaned forward and pecked your lips, effectively cutting off your reasoning. It was a simple kiss, just surface level, still made you smile though.

"Ya do know how to flatter a guy, you know 'at?" he hummed, fingers tapping along the wood. He kind of looked like he wanted to touch you, but, you know, dirt hands.

"I am just stating facts," you argued. It was unreal how he did not know how plain attractive he was. God, you could wake up every day stoked just because you were together.

He changed his footing, looking at you curiously, "What are ya doin' out 'ere anyway?"

Blue eyes drew to your trunk, where a substantial pile was growing -messy colors and books and stationery-

"'Looks like a lotta stuff," he commented, saying playfully (but there was something a little serious in his tone), "-Ya ain't leavin' me, are ya?"

"No," you laughed in disbelief, but you saw something in him relax, "-Remember that job I have? That you ignore?"

Rick rolled his eyes, "I don't ignore it."

"You do," you patted his cheek, "-you buy everything for me. But-"

He smiled at you, affectionately, turning to kiss your palm.

"-since school starts in a few weeks," you explained, "-I have to go set up my classroom. What is in my trunk is not my stuff, but instead, tragically, is cute little posters about multiplication tables."

"Cute?" he questioned, eyes looking at you so fondly you thought that you might melt in your place.

"They're jungle themed," you clarified, motioning with your hands, "-have little monkeys on the sides."

Rick smiled at you, something smoothing into his eyes, "'At does sound pretty cute."

Your eyes flicked between his, "I said that, didn't I?"

He laughed again, and you pulled him to your lips that time -a little longer than before, but not much more than the press of the lips. Although you were pretty sure Rick wanted it to be. You too, really.

"Alright, loverboy," you parted, dropping your hands from his face, "-you've distracted me enough, I have some work to do. The colorful letter cutouts will not stack themselves."

He looked at you a second, before asking, "Ya need an extra set of hands? Or maybe three?"

"Oh, you don't need to wake them up, Rick, I'll be fine-" you hummed, "-it'll only take a few hours."

"Carl's helpin' me outside, and Judith is pickin' flowers, think she might give 'em to ya actually, and-" he tilted his head -playfully, "-I gotta few hours."

You laughed, "Do you?"

"For ya?" he grinned, eyes skimming over yours -fond, "-Absolutely."

Rick ended up piling up his kids in his truck and following you to the school. What can you say? You were weak-willed when it came to Rick Grimes.

Now, you were roaming down the hallways, hands full of papers, muttering the instructions you got from an email to your classroom. Beside you, Rick held most of the stuff (not that you hadn't offered), Carl held one box, and with your free hand, you held Judith's -keeping her close. Rick's eyes had been following it the whole way, you probably would've said something, if you weren't so distracted.

"Rick!" a woman called, crouching down to the kids' level, "-and look, Carl and Judith too! Hey guys."

She was young, wearing a floral top and regular jeans. She had blonde curly hair and a deep sort of blue eyes. Her voice was warm and she seemed so welcoming it was actually unbelievable-

Now that you noticed it, she came out of the first hallway -the younger classes. You briefly wondered if she was a teacher too.

"Hey, Beth," Rick chimed happily, warm, "-just helpin' Y/N get 'eir room ready."

"Y/N," she smiled, big and bright, rising back to her feet, "-the Y/N?"

He chuckled, and you saw the tips of his ears go pink (a smile bloomed onto your lips again), but still, he confirmed, "Yeah if ya wanna say it like 'at, the Y/N."

The woman grinned, something twinkling in her eyes, before realizing she hadn't turned to you yet, "Oh, I'm sorry! I'm Beth, Beth Greene, I teach Kindergarten here."

Figures.

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," you chimed, smiling, "-and even though you don't need it apparently," your eyes shot to Rick a second, "-I'm Y/N. I teach third grade, and am... currently trying to find my classroom."

"Oh," she spoke, eyes lighting up at the idea of helping, "-I can totally help you with that! Third is gonna be the second hallway, what's your classroom number?"

"203," you replied with ease -in all your nerves, you had memorized it.

"That's easy," she waved a hand dismissively, "-should be right at the front, odd rooms are on the left."

"Thank you," you smiled.

"I hope to see you around!"

You grinned wide and continued walking down the main hallway. Maybe I shouldn't be so nervous.

"Look at ya," Rick hummed, teasingly, "-already makin' friends."

You pursed your lips, warning, "Don't start, loverboy."

He laughed, as you turned down the second hallway -eyes darting between room numbers, a little frantically. Rick's eyes lingered on you a little longer, eyebrows furrowing a second. He opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupted him.

"There it is," you breathed out a sigh of relief -second door on the left.

Grabbing your key off your lanyard which had your photo ID too, you slid it into the lock and turned.

Taking in the room, you were nearly bouncing on your toes. Not that it was anything special, it was just a basic classroom with lines of desks, a big whiteboard, plain white brick walls, and a big desk in the corner. It was just... your very own classroom.

"Ya look happy," Rick chimed, coming up to your side as Judith and Carl ran into the room.

You instinctively called out, thinking of the hard tile flooring under your shoes, "Be careful, you two! Don't fall!"

The both of them slowed down considerably, and you let out a sigh of relief -placing the papers you had on one of the desks in front of you and turning to Rick.

He was smiling at you so fondly that you promptly forgot what you were saying -heart skittering in your chest, "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Ya look happy," he repeated, blue eyes skimming over your face a little like he couldn't get enough of you.

"Oh, yeah, I am," you agreed, smile on your face, "-I've always had assistant jobs, this is... I finally have my own classroom. It's big for me, even if sounds a little stupid-"

Rick shook his head, putting the boxes onto the floor, and approached you -running his hands along your arms, "Ain't stupid, baby. Not at all."

You smiled at him but not quite the fullest, nerves still bubbling under your skin, "Thank you."

He furrowed his eyebrows, eyes smoothing over your smile, "'Ere's somethin' else. What's wrong?"

You bit at your lips a second, "I just... I really don't want to mess this up. I've only ever been an assistant-"

His hands moved up to cup your face, turning your eyes onto his -steady gaze, "You're gonna do great. Not a doubt in my mind."

You pursed your lips.

"I've seen ya wit' Carl and Judith," he continued, genuine and honestly, "-you're amazin', baby. You 'ave nothin' to worry 'bout."

"Yeah?"

"'Course," he assured, leaning forward and pecking your lips once, "-Now, what ya want me to do, boss?"

You laughed, and the four of you got to work. Well, Judith was sitting at a desk coloring with crayons but you'd still counted it (especially when she'd offered you the finished product after Carl signed it for her. You immediately stuck it on the pinboard behind your desk. Rick couldn't stop smiling at you).

You were, at the current moment, making nametags with Carl; you were writing their names and he was folding them into triangles -quite diligently, you added. Every once in a while he'd tell you about somebody if he knew them, 'Annie likes the color pink, and James likes dinosaurs, he let me play with his favorite once. It was so cool-'. Attentively listening, you carefully skimmed every name, making sure that their name was spelled right.

"Do you know what Mary's favorite princess is?" you asked, curiously.

Carl paused from folding, gathering an oddly serious face (you almost laughed), "'Think she told somebody it was Cinderella once."

Kind of basic, your mind chimed.

"Good choice," you hummed instead, and you could feel Rick's eyes heavy on the two of you -you chanced a look at him and sweetly smiled. He grinned, shaking his head, and busying himself with the posters.

And then, there was a rapt on the door.

You curiously looked to the door and spotted a man with dark hair and dark eyes. His eyes surfed along the room before landing on Rick, a grin seeping across his face.

"I heard we had a visitor," he spoke, echoing out into the room.

Rick spun to him, grinning wide and making strides to the door, "Glenn, 'ey! Ya heard from Maggie?"

The man, Glenn, smiled in a small sort of way, shaking his head -embarrassed. You peeked up at the two of them, curiosity peaked.

Carl whispered, low for your ear, "'At's Glenn, he teaches here."

You turned to him, digging deeper, "And whose Maggie?"

He darted to the group, seeing they were lost in conversation, and putting his hand in front of his mouth, whispering, "She sells flowers in town, he has a big crush on 'er."

"Really?" you whispered back, "-How do you know?"

"Dad said so," he responded, blue eyes locked onto yours, "-Glenn won't ask her to be his girlfriend though."

"No," you exaggerated, enraptured, "-does Maggie like him back?"

"Yeah," he answered, mindlessly folding, "-she looks at 'im how Dad looks at you. And Dad really likes you."

You smiled, something in your chest fluttering, laughing a little, "Does she?"

"Yeah," he hummed, adding dramatically, "-And she twirls her hair."

"Oh, wow," you responded, playfully, "-she must really like him then."

He nodded at you, as you continued writing away. Until a thought crossed your mind.

"Has your Dad ever tried to get Maggie to make a move?" you asked.

"Dunno," Carl answered, shrugging, "-Dad says everybody in Alexandria is waiting on it. I don't really care, though."

You laughed, and you felt Rick's eyes dart to you at the noise, "Well, at least, you have your priorities straight, Carl."

There was a pause.

"You should try it though," he added, a little quietly, not looking at you.

"Should I?"

"Yeah," he leaned into his hand, "-I think if two people like each other, they should be together. 'Specially if they really like each other. Like you and Dad."

"And you're-" you pursed your lips, "-you're okay with me and your Dad?"

"Yeah," Carl spoke, instantly, "-he smiles a lot with you. 'Didn't used to smile that much when we weren't around."

You frowned slightly but didn't say a word.

"'Cause Mom left," he commented, tone much lower than before. You just watched him quietly. You hadn't really thought too much about Lori, or, at the very least, Carl's perspective.

It might be a little like he lost a Mom.

You bit your lip, bouncing your pen for a moment, "Hey Carl?"

He turned to you, big blue eyes, and his fingers dancing along the table.

"It's okay to miss her sometimes," you decided, eyes settling along his face, "-even if... even if she left on purpose. You can still miss her."

"I can?" he asked so genuinely that it made your heart ache in your chest.

"Yeah, of course," you hummed, giving him your full attention, "-we can still miss the people who hurt us. Especially if you love them."

"And," he started, voice maybe a little wobbly, "-And it's okay if it did hurt me?"

Something in your gut twisted. Oh, Carl.

You took a breath in, hand coming to smooth down his arm, "Yeah, sometimes-" your hand smoothed along his head, "-sometimes people do things that hurt us, and it-" you bit your lip, remembering things yourself, "-it hurts for a long time. And you know what? That's okay."

Carl just looked at you.

"It's okay to feel hurt by someone," you added, not moving your eyes from his, "-even when you love them."

Carl looked at you for a second, processing the words. You attentively kept his gaze, patient.

Before you could blink, he scraped back his chair and threw himself into your arms. Tiny little arms and hands hugging you.

You smiled, a little bittersweetly (maybe with a dusting of tears in your eyes), hand coming up to carefully hold the back of his head. Wordlessly, you smoothed your palm against it -repetitively.

Looking up to match Rick's concerned eyes, you motioned dismissively with your free hand, mouthing 'Later'. He seemed to shoot between your eyes and the back of Carl's head, rolling his lip in between his teeth.

'It's okay', you mouthed, trying to reassure him, '-he's okay.'

Something in him softened, and he took a deep breath, turning back to Glenn.

You did eventually meet Glenn, Rhee you learned; he taught fifth grade, towards the end of the third hall. Just like everyone else, he'd said Rick had practically introduced you already. It made you grin, just like it did every other time. He was nice, friendly even, offered to help you learn the ropes -which, you kind of desperately needed.

A little after that, with the help of Rick's height and Carl's remarkable focus (seriously, you wished you had that), you finished your classroom. Cubbies pushed against the wall, crayons in little drawers, papers properly filed in your desk, and walls covered in cute posters. You deserved a little break, so you took one.

Eating dinner with the Grimes, you stayed over. Leading you to now, as you sat -curled up on the couch watching whatever sitcom was on. It seemed familiar, but you couldn't really remember. Rick was putting Carl to bed, as he'd put Judith a few hours earlier, and you just sat in the coziness of his house.

It was crazy how nice it felt to be in here.

"Hey, baby," Rick hummed out, waltzing up to your side.

"Hey," you greeted with a sweet sort of smile.

Rick sat down just beside you, pulling you into his side (his body warmth bubbling along his skin, and a woodsy smell pulling through your nose). In response, you went to lean your head onto his shoulder -naturally.

"Just one thin'," he hummed, and you stopped in your tracks as he guided your chin up. And with fond, twinkly eyes, he kissed you.

It was languid, beard scratching at your face, and fingertips gently on your skin. Your hand naturally pushed through his hair, brushing through the curls with your fingers. Rick let out a low hum in response that made your stomach twist in a sort of pleasant way, so you kept doing it. Lips melding together with each breath you took, you had the spare thought that he kissed you a little carefully -gently. It made sparks shoot to your toes that he cared so much. Wanted to make you feel special and cared for.

You parted then, eyes fluttering open with a breath, a little flustered. Rick laughed a little at your reaction, fingers brushing along the hinge of your jaw -the careful touch of his callouses.

"Ya are so cute," he hummed, low as a whisper, "-always so flustered by me. 'S cute."

"In my defense," you responded, "-you are probably the hottest person like... maybe ever."

He quirked an eyebrow, a playful smirk smoothing across his lips, "Hottest, huh?"

You paused, "Uh, yeah. I call you handsome all the time-"

"Handsome and hot are two different thin's darlin'," he interrupted, curling his hand behind your ear, "-'s 'bout the intention."

"Well, then-" you continued a little uncertain, "-yeah. You look like you deserve to be carved out of marble-"

His eyes just laid heavily on you, but you could see the tips of his ears turn pink.

"-and at the same time, I would like to watch you chop wood shirtless sometimes," you finished, a little quieter.

He laughed just a little, before confessing, "Sometimes, I do chop wood, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he explained, voice low and gruff, "-in the winter, in case the power goes out. Keep some firewood for the fireplace. Don't think bein' shirtless would be a good idea in 'at weather."

You hummed, distracted by the way his fingers were brushing against your skin. It was so fond it made your head spin.

"'Could be shirtless for other reasons though," he added, tone coated in something different.

You let out a breath, eyes flicking between his, mindlessly poking his chest -accusingly, "Now that's not fair, Grimes. Jokes like that-"

"Who said I was jokin'?"

Your breath hollowed out in your chest, your heart pounding a little too fast. You swallowed, eyes holding his heavy look that you had never really seen before, but you knew very much what it meant.

Heart leaping into your chest, you spoke, "Yeah?"

"Kids are asleep," he offered, eyes set on your face -dipping to your lips, "-if ya want to, I want to."

"Jesus Christ," you muttered.

He laughed a little at that, eyes fond for a second. But continued strumming along your skin, careful touch now definitely making your head spin.

You breathed out, "I would like that. Yeah, who wouldn't?"

Laughing again, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours -surface level, but something new biting there. A promise for more.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands twisting into his hair. He hummed again, but this time a little differently.

Before you could blink, he was pulling you up to stand, and right before you could do that, he hitched his arms under your thighs -effectively carrying you.

You swallowed, god help me.

Rick grinned at you, something shining in his blue eyes, "'Figured I could show you somethin' else with my strength, yeah?"

You croaked out, just staring at him, "Yeah."

He laughed big and bright then, eyes smoothing to your lips, and decidedly saying, "'Said I was gonna take care of ya, didn't I?"

You blinked, swallowing. Well, maybe you didn't need god to help you.

You looked at Rick a second, before he started to move to the bedroom with a pretty quick pace -almost running. You laughed.

Maybe you were already blessed.

#its griming time #rick grimes #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #home is where the heart is

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kaylas-world-0 · 9 months

Text

Mansion Full Of Foxes

Warnings: MDNI, smut, mention of sex, cursing, etc. Everyone is adult here so don't worry!

This is a preview chapter

Masterlist

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃: Yes || No

Pairings: All Tailses from every universe is here for us~ Here is a list for who is into who (Of course we gave every each of them a nickname, to not get confuse anyone... I'm still trying to get used to them too so...)

A/n: Does anyone want to be in the tag list?

@ctheathy

Banzai (Secret History Tails)

Kitsu (Miles [WWMH])

Foxie (Miles [Operation Crimson])

Lunar (Tails [Tails’ Dark Diary])

Umber (Anti-Miles)

Hollow (Hologram Tails [The Ankh])

In between:

Sails

Citrus (Tails [There's something about Knuckles])

Knight (Blacksmith)

Ashen (Tails.exe)

Suave (Starved Tails)

Phantom (Inner Tails)

Zaddy/Bubba (Ali Baba)

Hero (Tailsop)

Wolfy (Tails-Zilla)

Kukla/Pop (Tails Doll)

Chaos (Metal Tails)

Maviş (Luther)

Goblin (Tails [Tails Gets Trolled])

Brownie (Tails [AOSTH])

Cub (Zails)

@kaylas-world-0

Tails

Mangey

Nine

Mint (Prime Tails)

Honey (Movie Tails)

Cherry (Boom Tails)

They/them // She/her // He/him // Other

Summery; It's mating season for foxes. Let's see what's going to happen in a house/mansion full of foxes that have issues and conflicts 👀

Word Count: 3055

A/N: This is kind of like a smut fic so... My friend and I made this for fun. We gonna use ocs so beware! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT JUST LEAVE

Have Fun!

"You've got issues that I like"

Kayla reached for two cups. She picks up the milk and pours it in.

"Okay, Mangey. Watch carefully. Because you can't keep dropping the cups and licking them from the table! This is how you need to drink."

She grabs her cup and sits on a chair and carefully shows him how to drink it. Mangey watches her gulp it all down, fully focused and head down on the table.

She gently put the cup on the table, "See? It's easy. Now you try."

She reached the other cub towards him. He grabs it and starts licking it from inside.

She blink, "Eh, That's an improvement at least." She scratches behind his ear and watches him purr happily.

"You did good!" His tails sways happily, he threw himself off of his seat and jumped on her. Licking all over her face.

"Hey! Hey! Stop it! Mangeyy!" She whines.

"Kayla?" She stopped pushing him and glanced towards the door, Nine stood raising an eyebrow. Mangey continued snuggling on her neck.

She grins nervously, "H-hi, Nine. You want something?"

Nine' face was serious, "Did you forget what I told you a few hours ago?"

She perks up, "Oh, right! You guys wanted to talk to us about something! I'm so sorry it completely--"

"It's fine. Just come to Tails' workshop." He turns away and walks off.

She raised an eyebrow at this, "Okay, Mangey let's go." She easily lifts him in her arms and starts to carry him towards the workshop.

She finds everyone in there waiting for her.

Her sister perked up seeing her figure.

"Sorry for being late…." She apologies sheepishly.

Tails smiled gently at her, "That's fine Kayla."

She gently puts Mangey down on his feet and he quickly snuggles on her legs.

"He's been awfully clingy today. I mean he was always clingy but…"

Tails cleared his throat, "Actually that's what we wanted to talk to you two about." Glancing away.

She raises an eyebrow and glances at her sister. She shrugged, signaling she had no idea either.

The two turn to Tails carefully listening.

"Uh, okay. We're all ears." He takes a deep breath, glancing anywhere but the two, "Well, you see… Nature has some laws. The most natural thing is to be born, grow up and eventually die--"

She panicked, "Mangey is dying?!" She gripped him tightly in tears.

Tails stuttered, "What?! No! No one is dying!"

"O-oh…"

Ctheathy could feel certain sky blue eyes staring bullets at their presence. And she had felt slightly nervous under the amount of pressure their surroundings had given them, especially after having been ripped from the other fox’ comforting embrace. She had always enjoyed thinking of hugging the others, it felt as a small yet safe way to connect with each other, and though she'd been pushed away on several occasions. Deep down, she secretly hoped that it could comfort them right the same way. She listened closely to what the others had to say as she kept herself quiet, always having been a teensy tiny bit too shy to speak up for her own. Though she certainly wasn't one to miss out on any responses that seem to have held deep emotion in them, so when Kayla had cried out her words, she immediately got her attention back to her gaze.

She snuck up to her and caressed her shoulder to try and ease her worry. Seeming how she had quite the panic over the idea of the darling fox losing his life. She flinched slightly at this, her eyes meeting her own blue ones, but they quickly softened after realizing what she was trying to do, muttering out a “thank you” as Tails continued with slight worry lingering in his tone.

He awkwardly squirmed in his position, seeming to think about how to continue his speech as he bit his tongue slightly in response to his overwhelm. “Ah, w-well-!” he started, a nervous sweat going down his forehead as both of the humans eyes connected onto his own again. He fiddled slightly with his hands, not being all too positive in his wording as he started letting out a few “um’s”. The room was starting to grow awfully quiet and the air grew a tension, a few mutters and perhaps even muffled cursing could be heard throughout the place.

Ctheathy and Kayla looked at each other in confusion, having no clue what to expect. But their thoughts quickly got interrupted as a “Just tell them already-!!” rang through the room, coming from Lunar as his already thin patience was starting to run out. A huff came from Umber as he crossed his arms, the other foxes standing beside them seeming to run low on patience as well. Whispering was starting to get noticeable around the place and Tails let out a small sigh, seeming to have decided upon his talk. They had to know. He looked us dead in the eye and his own narrowed slightly.

“Kayla, Ctheathy, do you both um … Are you aware of some of nature's essential proceedings considering our species?” He spoke with careful words, almost as if the humans were incredibly delicate and fragile to the topic. They both currently had no clue what the hell was going on, and their expressions had said everything. Kayla just blinked with an expressionless look on her face, and Ctheathy just tilted her head slightly, as they both seemingly had no idea what he was referring to. Yes, nature has it's natural common events, but we just couldn't put the puzzle pieces together with what this had to do with the meetup.

Feeling real dumb right about now, Ctheathy let out a small sigh she didn't know she had been holding, and had decided upon speaking for the first time in a while. She carefully spoke, not wanting to upset him, “I’m afraid we're not sure what you're asking…”

Kayla glances at Tails with a face she is trying to process what he just asked.

Noticing this with Ctheathy pointing out their physical confusion he nodded, sighing.

Tails leaves all his over thinking behind. He needs to let it out for them. They need to be notified about this.

He inhales deeply getting ready for his speech, "Look, nature has it's rules. Birth, growing up, death and such… I wanted to talk about birth here so… You probably know what partners have to do if they want kids, right? N-never mind forget what they have to do! W-what I mean is, we mobians are divided into various types as you know. So… we as foxes like other mobians have a natural clock… but in different time from others of course. And well it's like a clock that when it ticks midnight like in Cinderella, poof, our hormones are--" he stopped himself when he saw the confusion on humans faces as well as the weirded out expressions from the other foxes. He noticed how awkward the tension became.

Fuck, he messed up his speech! He practiced for a few days for this!

He panicked and reddened, "I-I mean--" his voice became small.

Nine groaned loudly, "It's mating season for us damn it!!"

Tails flushed yelled at him, "We talked about this Nine! We're not going to show that fact to their faces like that!!"

Nine rolled his eyes, "I rather die than listen to your awkward speech again. This was less painful and easy to do."

Tails grumbled in vain, "I started pretty good what happened? That's not an excuse to traumatize them like that! You can't just say stuff like that and be okay with it! They needed to warm up on this first! Why are you so cool with this?"

Sails stepped in, "I think ye confuse them enough."

Everyone's eyes turned towards the only humans in this household waiting for a reaction.

After processing the conflict between them Kayla holds her mouth to prevent herself from chuckling, for some reason their fight comes to her funny with the weird topic at hand... But this is a serious matter, she bit her cheek.

"Wait wait…" she gasps, "Are you guys for real? I thought- I thought it wasn't possible." She muttered to herself.

Nine tilted his head, "It is as real as we are. And it's as normal as you two having periods. Nature is full of weird biological shits." He rolled his eyes.

Ctheathy got lost in her thoughts for a little while after that rollercoaster of emotions. She's heard of mating seasons before, but she had little to no knowledge on it's effects other than stronger hormones, much less the changes in behavior or consequences it might have for them. And these thoughts alone already left her worried, the worst possible scenarios going through her head as she kept herself quiet, just staring at the floor underneath their feet. She didn't know what on earth to think about this information, the way it had been described didn't seem pleasant in the slightest, and though she felt interested and wanted to ask further, she was mainly anxious for the foxes’ wellbeing during the described time.

The stares felt as if they were pushing her into the ground, awaiting an answer from the both of them. Her sister had already given her own response to the new said information, quick, even. But Ctheathy had no idea where to even start, so many questions…

She decided to go for a show of concern, wanting to show her worry for the events, “You… You've described the occurrences as if they're incredibly difficult to go through for yourselves and those around you. Could you elaborate…maybe?” She merely whispered at the end, the topic hadn't seemed preferable for any of them to talk about and she had honestly already felt guilty for questioning any further. But she felt as if they had to know just in case it could cause potential danger or any other little traits we'd have to keep in mind. Kayla nodded in response at this, seemingly wanting the knowledge herself too.

Tails merely sighed once again, still seeming to be somewhat stiff from previous events, “Well… What do you expect? Our hormones and senses shall be increased and going through a rampage during that time--” Tails seemed to already shiver at the thought, and Nine stepped in after the realization set in that he wasn't going to continue any further, “And we're gonna be expecting you two to defend yourselves-!” Though it sounded more like a demand more than anything, they knew he had good intentions behind the request. But his worries worsened their paranoia ever so slightly.

“As they restrict self-restraints too” Sails added, looking us in the eye and showing concern for them.

Ctheathy and Kayla weren't sure if they were supposed to freak out by these warnings, they must be rather brutal for it to affect them this deeply, but this certainly wasn't what they expected when they got called in here. And seeing their worrisome expressions, Citrus decided to step in with a more gentle approach.

“Ah… What we are trying to say is that the safety of the both of you means a lot to us. We wanted to put down some strict rules in order to prevent anything from happening” which some of the other’s nodded at.

Ctheathy's racing thoughts calmed a little at this, and she was thankful for them even bothering to ensure their safety, but with this a sudden realization suddenly set into her mind and she stood up, worried. “H-hold on a second there-! But does this imply these events can cause all of you any… potential pain?” sadness was visible in her eyes… She didn't want to see them hurt for an entire month.

Many just looked away slightly, awkward even, which was slowly starting to confirm her fears as she narrowed her eyes in response and looked down. But she flinched as she felt a hand on her shoulder, looking up for her eyes to meet Banzai’s. How didn't she notice him sneaking up to her? Their eyes stayed connected with one another as his soothing voice tried to ease her mind, but it was hard.

“Do not concern your minds over these circumstances, my dears. There's other things that are of prime concern” and the others let out sounds of agreement, seeming to have spoken of this with each other before. Huh, guess communication is possible in this household, after all.

Kayla thought about all the things they said until Banzai stepped in. To say the least she was confused was an understatement...

"Other prime concerns-- Like what?"

She glanced at him when Nine answered, "Like your safeties. It had to be our first and only property."

Kayla shook her head at this, crossing her arms, refusing, "No way! If you guys are hurting! Then it is also important! We are going to help. Like you guys help us go through our periods."

Her sister nodded agreeing with her, "Is there any way we could help you guys with?" She asked gently and as worried as her.

The room went awfully quiet.

The humans stared at them waiting for a response.

"Well?" Kayla urged them to speak. Every one of them seemed at the edge.

Tails cleared his throat, "Well… you see… uh… There is a way…. but uh… it's- no, it's uh…. not what you think…. it's not the same with period cramps… You gotta reveal it… somehow… well…" he tried but failed.

Lunar rolled his eyes with a groan, "It's sex, we need sex."

Tails flushed, "That's not-- Be quiet! it's not exactly--"

Lunar huffed, done with their shit, "Exactly what? We need sex to reveal this! That's it! Just accept this already! We need sex so we can reproduce. This is nature. This is how the world revolves. It's normal. It's an urge! Couples always have sex! Either to have fun or not. There is no need to make sex look abnormal!--"

Foxie groaned, holding the bridge of his nose, "Will you please stop emphasizing it?!"

Kayla and Ctheathy stared at them all as they started arguing over this.

Ctheathy could feel her face starting to burn up after the sudden outburst. She was currently questioning herself how she hadn't figured things out and gotten the hint before that and she could clearly see Kayla’s cheeks having gained a reddish tint as well, but it was nothing in comparison to her entire face.

She bit her lip and shook her head, trying to decrease some of the warmth as she had noticed them creating the start of a fight… Again. She could feel her ears starting to tingle as the noises around them worsened, the arguments starting to become an issue for the both of them as her sibling covered her ears in the exact same irritation.

Things continued for a little while, the place had started to feel suffocating and she knew she had to do something, otherwise there was a massive chance of certain bad outcomes. Her sister noticed her trouble and quickly went for her arm, giving it a small squeeze to try and comfort her in response. Ctheathy looked down from her standing position and gave a gentle smile, being incredibly grateful for her attempts to ease her mind. But she knew this fight had to be put to an end anytime soon.

Everyone freezed for a second with a noise lighting up in the room. They all glanced at the side as Hollow walked in. He freezed seeing everyone in a tight atmosphere. He stared for a second until he slowly backed away and walked out of the room, “You guys can fuck yourselves I am going. I just woke up damn it. This is too early in the morning for this.”

All the foxes quickly continued their heated argument like nothing even disturbed it.

“Everyone, please… Quiet down-! Fighting won't get us anywhere…” Ctheathy’s voice was starting to turn light, nervousness getting to her head once again as they either ignored or hadn't noticed her pleas. “We won't solve anything if we keep yelling at one another…” her quest still hadn't been heard, as the rambling continued alongside the room, it having become even louder over time, the space felt tight… Too tight “guys…!” She started once again, but she forced her eyes shut after realizing her attempts were unsuccessful, the loudness getting to her and her sister had certainly noticed.

“EVERYBODY, SHUT IT-!!” Glaring at the group, she stood up and let out a huff that made very much sure that everybody was currently listening to what she had to say, as the amber coloured foxes’ eyes turned their way in response. It had always surprised Ctheathy how easily she was able to get each and every single one of them in line, she envied it even.

Kayla turned to her with kind intent and gave her a smile “Go ahead, Ctheathy”.

She muttered a small “thank you” and straightened her back to try and seem to have more control over the situation, but it definitely hadn't felt that way. She gulped, all eyes being glued onto her form by now as she felt her anxieties double. “I’m sorry for causing this conflict-! I should have understood the hint, but please do understand that arguing won't help us with anything.” She tried being as gentle as possible with her words, not wanting to set them off. “Besides, ahah… There are still a few questions I'd preferably have answered just in case, you know-- boundaries and all-! I really wouldn't want to worsen the state all of you will be in just because I made the wrong decision…” Her eyes turned to the floor once again, not very used to the attention and she felt her cheeks starting to flush once again. She heard a few sighs going through the room and she swore she could have seen the eye rolls if it wasn't for her eyes being glued onto the ground, but she appreciated how the fighting had at least taken a stop.

Tomorrow will be the first day of Mating season as we were told. Most of them decided to close themself in their room and hunt for food and water for themself from markets beforehand. And some of them decided to stay in the workshop to work and busy their minds. And some of them didn't care at all and were gonna continue their daily activities like nothing changed.

Kayla and Ctheathy decided to sit and drink some tea in the garden while watching the stars revolve around them as everyone was inside minding their business.

Kayla spoke up, "We should talk about what we can do for them. I mean obviously we are not gonna… sleep with any of them so…" she muttered.

Ctheathy agreed, "Yes. We're gonna show extra care for them. Making food, leaving nice notes and such."

Kayla hummed, "Yeah… they would appreciate that…"

They continue observing silently.

"Damn."

"What?" Ctheathy asked curiously.

Kayla sighed, scratching her cheek, "I guess… I'm a little scared for tomorrow. I mean they already started acting really weird. I-I'm afraid I can't handle it without giving in……"

Ctheathy reassured her, patting her hand, “Don’t worry, I’ll be with you every minute of it. I won’t let them do anything to you.”

"This is gonna be a long month…" Kayla whined.

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pollyaunt · 2 years

Text

I FUCKIN HATE DANIKA WITH A PASSION. SHE WAS NEVER A GOOD FRIEND TO BRYCE. SO MANY FUCKING SECRETS.

my poor baby bryce

#anti danika fendyr #cc2 spoilers #sjm #ct reads hosab #hosab spoilers #house of sky and breath #bryce x danika #bryce quinlan

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drifting-pieces-blog-blog · 5 months

Text

Moon's Light

Summary: Moon Knight comics universe: After everything they've been through, the hardest war has always been of the past. First Night of Hanukkah shouldn't be this hard.

Pairings: Gen fic

Warnings: Briefest of mentions of anti-semitism.

Word Count: 1,242

------

It was never that big of a deal.

He knew the stories and had tried to grasp the concepts and history behind the holiday.

It just wasn’t a high holiday. His father had waved a hand away as he continued to study and prepare for other things.

Young Marc Spector had watched his father do his public duties. It was all a show, wasn’t it? Competition with more prominent holidays that he had no part of, but was still expected to observe somehow.

Blue and white decorations that mimicked the green and red garlands. Stars getting lost in the snowflake designs. Twinkling light on houses that shown brighter and longer till they made those little lights in the window mean so little.

Stepping out of his little sheltered street to the bigger and wider world and his little ‘hat’ had been knocked off his head more time than he can remember.

It all only added to his anger. Anger that fueled his violent blood. It was easy enough to forget things when he left. There was no day of rest when getting shot at. There was no fasting when the energy was needed to battle some villain or army. Kosher was a laugh when he was crawling through the desert eating anything he was given.

It was a choice at first, being the man out as he refused things or muttered prayers to himself, then it was rejection as he turned face up to the sky as he ate, as he worked, as he started his first campfire to stay warm.

Did that make it more prominent? Telling the world ‘I am doing this despite you’ was still acknowledging that ‘you’ existed.

In time, he gave it all up. He was Marc Spector Mercenary. Marc Spector a man without a home. A man who moved from place to place because he was unwanted, unwelcome, and hated.

And in the end, did this not make things even closer to who he didn’t want to be?

Give it to Jake.

It had taken him a long time to get Jake to talk to him. The rejection had been mutual. Or perhaps, Jake had simply been waiting for him. Jake settled into comfort and pleasure. He kept the fire kindled and did what he could without forcing them back into something that would hurt too much. He watched friends fade away and even old enemies disappear with a sense of something part of himself falling away with them.

The years filled up with pain and it was getting harder and harder to cope with memories of who he was supposed to be.

Give it to Steven

Steven took it. He judged the past and did his best to be the better man. Charity to make up for Marc’s mistakes. Or so he claimed. He struggled to make the life make sense. So little of it made sense. So much of it was filled with ghosts of what was supposed to happen. Notions of something he was supposed to do. A sense of something in his blood that filled him with a great sense of unrest.

Now, after so much and so much chaos that dug around in his heart, they all slowly took a deep breath.

Marc, for it was always Marc, stared down the offender with such concentration that perhaps it would fade away if he focused hard enough.

Time had changed, but things had not. The things that had made the boy Marc so angry were still there. His brother was dead, angrier than even he had been. His mother long gone, never knowing the real Marc. His father was gone, taking with him any chance of reconciliation.

There was still hate. There was still blame. There was still all the things that had hurt them. The only difference was time.

Time for him to search his soul and know himself. Time for him to make peace with Jake and Steven. Time for him to understand his position as Moon Knight.

Sun’s going down. Jake prodded.

It wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t a big holiday.

So why was it so hard? Why did it suddenly mean so much right now to him?

Let me do it. Jake reached for the matches but Marc turned away, moving their hands to his hips as he took another slow breath.

We don’t have to do it. How is it any different from all the other years we ignored it? Steven shrugged, acting indifferent though Marc could feel the sway of his heart.

“We have to.” Marc gritted his teeth.

Why? Jake and Steven asked. Why do they have to? Why does Marc have to be the one? Jake would happily carry on. Steven knew the ritual. It was so organized the way he liked it.

“Because I exist.” Marc looked out the window. “Because I’m still here. Despite it all… I’m still here.”

He took the match book and tore off a stick. It was far from the long and beautiful matchsticks his father had used, but this felt so much more representative of Marc Spector.

He struck once and almost seemed surprised to see himself suddenly holding the small flame, feeling the heat and lighting the room.

He lit the candle, small as it was. It was not the Hanukkiah of his childhood. It had come in a little box boasting “full menorah kit” in big block letters. Simple and silver, it still stood sturdy.

A shaking hand picked up the small helper candle.

“We are still here.” Jake stepped in and took a moment to look at the candle before he moved it to the fist candle on the right. He held the light to the small wick and made sure it was properly lit before he set the candle back in place.

Steven pulled the memory up from so long ago. He had looked it up earlier the moment he had seen the kit in Marc’s hand. Ever prepared, he had made sure the words were still there.

He needn’t have worried. Some memories never faded. Some words lingered as if they were tattooed across his heart.

Maybe his tongue was a little slower and maybe his voice was a little softer, but still the tune carried.

Three prayers for the first day. Three souls welcoming in the light.

The song followed and Jake carried it as if it were a joyful tune he’d just heard yesterday in the bar.

When all was done, they sat in the light, watching the candles drip and burn down. The smallest menorah in the window of the Midnight Mission.

Outside, someone stopped and gazed at the window. Marc pulled his mask down back into place.

This was Moon Knight’s neighborhood, Moon Knight’s mission, Moon Knight’s protected people, and this was Moon Knight’s light.

The person was a teen, hands in pockets and head down. He gazed at the menorah for a moment then looked up to the man in the white suit.

“Chag chanuka sameach.” The teen gave a small wave.

He licked his cracked lips, wondering if the words would hurt. “Chag chanuka sameach.” They came easily and he smiled as a relief washed over him that threatened to overwhelm him. Not because he still knew them, but for reasons he couldn’t explain.

Moon Knight turned to open the door. The Midnight Mission was open. Now, more than ever, he had something to protect.

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight comics #Moon Knight fic #Marc Spector #Jake Lockley #Steven Grant #Happy Hanukkah 2023 #It isn't the first night anymore (technically not yet the second night as I post this)#However you celebrate I hope you have peace #You deserve peace #Moon Knight is Jewish

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