#If you couldn't tell she has fire powers

[justgowithit505]

so. I wrote something.

This is my first fic, it's about 100 words and no fandom so... I'm starting off slow

Ok. Let's do this.

Iris is staring at the blue and red school building, black backpack in hand. This is it, she thinks. She takes a deep breath, then takes a resolute step forward.

You got this.

School is shit. Everyone knows that. Even her fosterparents, and still, they have forced her to go. They said that she must have it hard, not being normal. Of course she has it hard! Of course she's not normal. She's different. A lot more different than any one in this building. And that's what scares her so much about this hellhole.

Relax. Or you're going to burn this whole place down.

Now, she's feeling the wierd yet familiar tingle in her hands, and she starts smelling smoke. No. Not here. Not now. Iris puts her hand in her pocket, scoffs, and begins walking down the hallway.

let me know what you think in the tags, writing advice is greatly appreciated

[winterarmyy]

Against All Odds | Part I

An arranged marriage with the duke's illegitimate son!bucky.

Summary: In a medieval kingdom where magic and political intrigue are woven into the fabric of society, Y/N, the youngest daughter of a noble Earl family, finds herself in an arranged marriage to James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke. Known as the Winter Soldier, Bucky's reputation as a monster in war had instilled anxiety into Y/N's heart. But that fear quickly begins to crumble when she discovers that her husband is not the brutal figure society depicts him to be.

Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)

Words: 8.1k++

Pairing: duke's illegitimate son!bucky x noble!female!reader

Warnings: fantasy/medieval au, i did not write this with much knowledge of fantasy nor medieval lore. I write it solely for plot and the couple dynamic lmao. if you're expecting full blown fantasy novel; this ain't it, man. anyways, 18+ contents, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, loss of virginity, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), marking kink (i think), soft fluffy smut, a wee bit of dirty talk. soft!reader and even softer!bucky. (idk what else, so tell me if there's something i miss.)

P/S: This is the fic for an idea I had earlier this year. The first chapter will only cover the original post but what happens next is something you will need to look forward on the upcoming chapters. Enjoy your read!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N stood in front of the grand mirror in her chamber, her reflection staring back at her with wide, fearful eyes. The delicate lace of her wedding dress was the opposite of the twisting anxiety in her stomach. Today, she was to marry James Buchanan Barnes, the illegitimate son of the Duke of the kingdom, a man labelled to be more beast than human.

He was known as the Winter Soldier, a title whispered with both fear and awe. Tales of his gruesome feats in battle, his merciless brutality, and his cold, metal arm was deemed as a horror story for the children in the kingdom. People spoke of him as a monstrous weapon, a beast moulded by the Emperor to do his bidding without question or hesitation. 

Y/N had heard the stories many times before; and it has always been a hushed conversation that floats around whether a ballroom of a gala, or at the tables of the garden parties, sometimes even in between the racks of books in the library.

They always painted a picture of a man who lived only for war, devoid of humanity.

She couldn't help but let these tales feed her imagination. What kind of man was he truly? Did he revel in the violence, or was he a prisoner to his fate? Y/N shuddered at the thought, her heart heavy with fear and uncertainty.

Her father, the Earl, had made it clear why she needed to marry him. It was a political manoeuvre, a strategic alliance to strengthen their family's position. The duke, Bucky's father, wielded considerable power, and their union would bring the Earl closer to the heart of the kingdom's influence. 

And when he heard that the duke was looking for a wife for his bastard son, he knew that she would be perfect. That was when Y/N, the youngest daughter, became the pawn in this game. Her father's ambitions certainly outweighed any consideration for her feelings or desires.

Y/N had always longed for a marriage of love, a dream she clung to despite her circumstances. She was a hopeless romantic through and through; much like her late mother. She remembered the nights when her mother would read to her and her siblings, spinning tales of prince charming and valiant heroes.

The fire crackled warmly in the hearth as her mother’s soothing voice filled the room. Y/N and her siblings, her older brother Eric and sister Clara, lay tucked under blankets, their eyes wide with wonder.

"And then the prince, with a heart full of love, swept the princess into his arms, vowing to protect her forever," her mother read, her voice a melodic whisper.

Y/N, her eyes sparkling with innocence, declared, "When I grow up, I want to marry a prince charming too!"

Clara, ever the practical one, nodded in agreement. "Me too! He has to be brave and kind."

Eric, being a little boy, scrunched his nose in distaste. "I don’t want to get married. I want to be a knight!"

Their mother chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Y/N’s forehead. "It does not matter if he is a prince charming or a humble knight. As long as you marry the one you love, that is what truly matters."

Y/N's heart ached at the memory. How she wished her mother were still here to guide her through this terrifying day. The gentle knock on the door brought her back to the present.

"Lady Y/N, it’s time," one of the maids said softly.

Y/N took a long and deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. She followed the maid down the corridor, her mind a swirl of emotions. Reaching the grand doors of the church, her father waited for her.

"Remember, Y/N," he said, his voice stern. "Do not mess this up. Just endure it. And you'll be fine. This is the most useful you can be to our family."

Her heart sank further; yet she nodded obediently.

Compared to Y/N, her elder brother, a celebrated swordsman, and her sister, a master in the art of business, had always outshone her in their father's eyes. Y/N's talent with languages; ancient and modern – was seen as a useless skill, something that brought no tangible benefit to the family. 

Her father had never been cruel when she was younger but everything changed when her mother died. In fact, everyone in the family had lost a piece of their soul when she left. Now, his lack of affection only increases the number of scars on her heart.

The doors opened, revealing the crowds of high-ranking nobles; who were mostly strangers – staring at her. Some were judging her; some pitied her. She reminded herself that she was doing this for her family, for the greater good. But the little girl inside her who dreamed of prince charming certainly felt a pang of sorrow.

As she walked down the aisle, her legs trembled, and her hands shook so violently that she had to clasp them together to steady herself. From afar, she saw the silhouette of the man she was destined to marry. His tall and huge figure stood out compared to anyone in the hall. As she got closer, she kept her gaze fixed on the floor, too afraid to look up at her husband-to-be.

When she finally reached the altar, the priest began the ceremony. His speech was long and dragging, giving Y/N too much time to entertain her growing curiosity that she dared to glance up at the man next to her. Even from behind the veil, she could see his towering and broad-shouldered build, his presence commanding the room. His long hair was slightly untamed, and a scruffy beard framed his face. His metal hand, glinting in the sun that leaked through the church’s windows, was a jarring reminder of the rumors that surrounded him.

There were no heartfelt vows to recite to each other; only their promise of "I do" was exchanged. And that was the first time Y/N heard his voice. It was deep and resonant, sending a shiver down her spine; but there was a certain warmth in it that contrasted sharply with his fearsome reputation.

When the priest announced their union and Bucky lifted her veil, Y/N was struck by the unexpected gentleness in his eyes. They were a brilliant, mesmerizing blue, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. Bucky's eyes softened as he looked at her, his gaze tender and almost reverent. Slowly, he placed one hand gently around her waist, pulling her slightly closer. His other hand came up to cup her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle against her skin.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as he leaned in, her breath catching in her throat. When his lips met hers, they were soft, warm, and so unexpected. She could smell his cologne; an earthy, woodsy scent mixed with a hint of something fruity; like peaches or tangerines. It made her head spin and her heart jumped all at the same time. 

The kiss was gentle and unhurried, very much differs to the forceful gesture she had feared. As he pulled away, Y/N found herself blinking slowly, her cheeks flushed and her fear momentarily replaced by confusion and a surprising awe. She was caught off guard by the tenderness of his touch, the way his lips had brushed against hers so gently.

Could the rumors about him be wrong?

"I’m sorry if I startled you," he said, his voice low and gentle. "I hope I didn’t scare you, my dear."

Y/N blinked slowly, trying to process the sudden shift in her emotions. The fear that had gripped her so tightly seemed to dissipate, replaced by a confusing mix of relief and intrigue. Her hands, which had been trembling, now rested at her sides, feeling strangely steady. Her eyes met his, and she could see softness in his gaze that contradicted the harsh rumors she had heard.

“I—no, you didn’t scare me,” she managed to say; her voice barely more than a whisper. She took a deep breath, her cheeks getting warmer as she processed the endearment he just called her. On the other hand, her mind was racing as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the fearsome figure of the Winter Soldier.

Bucky’s eyes mellowed even further, his gaze glazed with a tenderness that seemed to pierce through the weight of the room. A warm smile spread across his face, and he held her gaze with a comforting assurance.

“Good,” he said, his voice carrying a gentle affection. “I’m glad to hear that.”

The reception that followed was a blur of faces and polite conversation. Y/N moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations and well-wishes, but her mind was elsewhere. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Bucky than the rumors suggested. Every time she caught his eye, he gave her a small, reassuring smile that made the butterflies inside of her go wild.

As the evening drew to a close, they were escorted to one of the Emperor’s palaces, a grand and opulent residence that was to serve as their temporary home before they traveled north to Bucky’s territory. The palace, with its lavish furnishings and golden accents, seemed to mock the uncertainty Y/N felt. She had been assigned a chamber to prepare for the night, and the palace maids were bustling around her, helping her into a set of elaborate, far-from-modest lingerie.

The palace’s maids’ whispers and side glances did nothing to ease her growing anxiety. Their condescending tones and occasional snickers were laced with cruel speculation about how roughly Bucky would treat her. The more Y/N overheard, the more her apprehension grew. Despite the gentleness Bucky had shown her earlier, she found herself doubting its sincerity.

Could he really be the caring husband he appeared to be, or was it all just an elaborate show?

The maids finally left, their laughter fading down the hallway, leaving Y/N alone in the grand chamber. Her heart raced, and cold sweat formed at her brow as she sat quietly on the edge of the ornate bed. She kept her gaze firmly on the floor, her hands fidgeting in her lap. The room felt enormous, its sheer size heightening her sense of isolation and dread.

The door creaked open, and Bucky entered the room. Y/N’s heart nearly stopped as she heard the heavy, measured footsteps approaching. She couldn’t bring herself to look up, her body tense and her mind a swirl of panic and unease. She almost held her breath entire when she felt the slight indentation of the mattress beside her.

“Y/N,” Bucky’s voice was soft and coaxing, a distinct difference to the coldness she was expecting. “Look at me.” He continued. She hesitated momentarily; torn between obeying and disobeying but ultimately decided to raise her eyes to meet his.

The sight of him; his upper body bare, revealing a tapestry of scars and the stark metal of his prosthetic arm; made her breath hitch. Her eyes traced the lines of his faded wound, particularly the jagged marks where his shoulder met his metal arm. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow and concern. Her fingers, almost of their own accord, reached out to trace the contours of his chest and shoulder.

Bucky let the innocence of her touch to trace the most tainted parts of him; however noting her trembling eyes, he misunderstood her apprehension. “I want you to know, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle, “that I will never hurt you. You are safe with me.”

Y/N shook her head, her heart aching. She felt an unexplainable pain growing in her chest as she gazed at him. Her fingers still lightly touching his scars; her eyes, full of unshed tears, silently asked a question she was too afraid to voice. “Does it still hurt?” she wanted to ask, her expression betraying her concern.

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with affection, and he took her hand in his, holding it tenderly against his chest. “Don't worry. It does not hurt anymore,” he said with a reassuring smile. 

The connection between them was electric, charged with a deep, unspoken understanding. Bucky’s gaze was steady and filled with a depth of unspoken emotion that took Y/N’s breath away. “I know this is difficult for you, Y/N,” he said, his voice laden with sincerity. “But I promise, I will do everything in my power to make you happy.”

His words and the way he looked at her left Y/N feeling both comforted and overwhelmed. For the first time since their wedding, she felt a genuine, flickering hope that maybe, just maybe, their marriage could become something more than a mere political arrangement. Bucky’s assurances, his gentleness, and the tenderness in his eyes began to dissolve the fears she had harboured since the beginning of their union.

As they sat there, the weight of the night’s expectations seemed to lift, replaced by a fragile but growing trust. Y/N had entered this marriage with a sense of duty, convinced that she would have to endure the consummation of their union as a matter of obligation. But Bucky’s tenderness, his understanding, and the sincere reassurance he had given her began to change her perspective.

The idea of fulfilling her marital duty had initially felt like a burden she had to bear. She had steeled herself to face it with resignation, convinced that it was merely another part of her role in this arranged marriage. But now, she found herself reconsidering. The idea of being with him no longer felt like an obligation but a possibility of something more profound and intimate.

Y/N hands softly toyed with the delicate strings of her sheer lingerie, pulling it softly as her doe eyes signalled her husband of her intention. Bucky, sensing the shift in her demeanor, looked into her eyes with a mixture of concern and affection. “Are you sure, my dear?” he asked softly. “I want you to feel safe with me and not afraid of me.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered as she met his gaze, her own eyes reflecting the depth of her emotions. “I am,” she said with quiet conviction. ��I feel safe with you, James”

Bucky's hand naturally went to brush her hair behind her ear, “It’s Bucky, my dear,” he corrected softly.

“Hmm?” she asked, slightly puzzled.

He chuckled warmly. “You can call me Bucky from now on. It’s a nickname only a selected few who I trust and love knows.” Her eyes sparkled at his choice words; trust and love.

“Bucky…” she tested the name on her tongue, the syllables feeling strangely intimate. Upon hearing his name from her lips, Bucky’s heart swelled, almost bursting from his ribcage. He hummed in approval, “That's right, my dear. I’m your Bucky.” 

His reassuring smile grew wider, his calloused thumb gently stroke her cheek causing a shiver to strum all over her nerves; sending an emerging desire. One she had not fully acknowledged until now. The way he looked at her, the pure and raw endearment in his eyes, and the softness of his touch stirred something deep within her.

As the moments passed, Y/N realised she wanted this. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, to explore the warmth of his hands, to connect with him on a level she had longed for. The yearning for his touch, which had been dormant under layers of fear and uncertainty, now surged forward with undeniable intensity.

Without fully understanding why, Y/N found herself leaning closer to him, her breath coming in soft, eager gasps. She whispered, her voice barely audible but full of longing, “Bucky, please.”

Bucky’s expression softened, and a tender light filled his blue eyes, “May I?” he asked, his voice low and gentle as he held out his hand. There a shy hesitation before she finally placed her hand in his.

With a gentle but firm pull, Bucky lifted her onto his lap, his careful hands beginning the process of undressing her. Each movement was full of care, yet almost deliberate, as he slowly removed her dress, leaving her in nothing but the flimsy lace piece covering the sacred area between her thighs.

Bucky's eyes roamed over her bare skin, admiration clear in his gaze. Y/N could feel the heat of his gaze, the way his eyes traced every curve and contour of her body. The intensity of it made her feel both vulnerable and cherished, a potent combination that sent pleasurable shivers all over her body.

Seeing the hunger in his blue eyes, she felt the warmth of his body and caught the scent of him; the same once she noticed at the church; warm and comforting. Her breath quickened, and she found herself unsure of what to do or where to place her hands, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Noticing the subtle panic, Bucky reached for her hands and guided them through the thick strands of his long hair. “You can touch me as you please, my dear,” he whispered, his voice soothing as he reassured her. He leaned in to kiss her bare shoulder, then moved up to her neck, along her jaw, leaving a trail of warmth on her skin.

Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, the softness surprising her. The intimacy of the moment, combined with his gentle kisses, began to dissolve the last remnants of her anxiety. The feel of his lips on her skin was electrifying, each kiss sending waves of sensation she never felt before.

Bucky’s hands, still careful and tender, caressed her back, drawing her closer to him. Her breath hitched as he kissed the valley of her breasts; soft gasps escaping her lips as Bucky begins to lick and sucked on her delicate skin; likely trying to mark his claim on her. 

Every touch and little kisses he left sent shivers straight to her already dripping core. And by the time his lips grazed her nipple, her body jerked forward; in response, unintentionally dragging her aching pussy against his thick thigh.

His lips latched around her right nipples as he licks and sucks the hardening skin; lapping at it as if he was feeding from her. The sensation was overwhelming, yet she found herself leaning into his touch, her body responding to his gentle ministrations. The grip on his hair grew tighter as the strings of moans poured out her lips.

Bucky’s large hands find their place on her hips, guiding her to gently rut on his thigh. Trusting him, she followed his lead as he continue to grind her clit through the thin fabric she was wearing; introducing the sweet friction in on her core. Bucky pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, his expression filled with a mixture of subtle affection and desire. “You’re doing wonderfully, my dear. Can feel your pussy leaking on me. Do you feel good?” he murmured as he dipped back to kiss her neck.

Oh, he was filthy with his choice of words but surprisingly she was not mad about it. In fact she didn’t even notice the whimpers purring in her throat upon hearing those sinful words.

It was as if Bucky recognized that needy sound she made; it caused a smile to spread on his lips. She can feel it grow against the skin in between her breasts, “My my, is my sweet wife feeling needy right now?” he teased playfully as he effortlessly lifted her up and laid her down on their bed. 

Placing himself in between her soft thighs, his lustful gaze trained on her naked body; he admired the marks he has left on her breasts, the wet patch on the flimsy fabric covering her cunt, and the way her breath shuddered when he teasingly grind his harden cock against her.

Y/N can feel the contrast of his hands on her thigh, one warm, one cold. Her eyes drew her attention from his hands to his gorgeous face. Oh, the pure unfiltered lust in his eyes was pulling her in so effortlessly; seducing her to submit her body and soul to him completely. Shying away from his stare, she dragged her view down to his chiselled jaw, his broad chest then slowly to his beautiful abs. 

She admired his body as much as he did of hers.

But what was more prominent out of all, was the way she could feel his erection throbbing against her heat. Blood went rushing towards her face when Bucky guided her hips against the confinement of his cock, which in response; causing her hands naturally found their way to cover her face in embarrassment.

A deep chuckle bubbled from Bucky’s throat; he found her reaction to be absolutely endearing. He leaned down towards her, one hand holding himself up and another tenderly pulling her hands away, then drawing it close to his chest, right against his beating heart. 

Having nowhere to run, Y/N’s teary eyes drowned in his ocean blues, “Don’t hide from me, dearest.” He peppered a delicate kiss on her forehead, then on her nose, then on her cheek. She could feel the prickly sensation of his beard grazing on her skin. It was ticklish and a little bit painful and yet weirdly enough, it felt good that it naturally made her want to nuzzle it more.

But before she could, Bucky’s lips were already making their way down to her stomach. Her body responds to how soft his lips trailing down; and further down until she could feel them on her clothed core. A surprised yelp fell from her lips as he tore the last piece of clothing from her.

“Now, hands away from your face, my dear. I want to see that beautiful eyes of yours when I eat your sweet pussy.” his voice was honeyed when he made himself comfortable in between her thighs. His hands reached upwards to intertwine both of her hands with his own; acting as a restraint to restrict her from covering her face.

Y/N almost sat up upon hearing his words, “Eat what now?”, the question she had in mind was unable to be vocalised; due to her confusion. Prior to marriage, she had learned about sex and its purpose in her marital studies. Unbeknownst to her, the knowledge she had was few and limited for academic purposes only. Which means there were only the few illustrations of penetration depicted in books and the process of how children are bred as a result of it.

So what does he mean when he said those words? While she was still lost and confused, Bucky on the other hand was in his own world; completely and utterly transfixed on the glistening need of her cunt. She was dripping wet; the juices covering her slits perfectly; her scent was intoxicating and if it weren’t for the fact that this is her first time, Bucky would’ve ate her like a man starved of touch. But, he can’t do that. Not tonight. He wanted to be gentle; to cherish her, to love on her.

Seeing the darkened clouds in his eyes as he stared at her private, Y/N braved herself to ask, “What are you– ohh hmmm” her sentence ended up transforming into a toe curling moan as she felt Bucky’s wet tongue flattened across her weeping core. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he dragged her clit into his mouth and sucked. He strummed her clit with his tongue, causing her to arch her back and he took the opportunity to push his face further into her cunt; licking and sucking quite the literal soul out her.

It felt amazing but her self-consciousness won the battle in her head, she let out a whimpering plea, “Buc--bucky st-stop. That’s dirty.” as she gripped on his hands, trying to escape from his grip. Bucky growled against her in response to her futile protest. The sweet vibration only caused her pleasure all over her fluttering core. 

When Bucky pulled away for a moment; it caused her to feel a sense of loss. “It’s not dirty, my dear. In fact, it’s so sweet.” His lips moved to kiss on her inner thigh, murmuring against her skin as he left yet more of his marks on her, “So fucking sweet.” He releases his right hand from hers, just to rub his thumb on her clit, slowly dragging it in between her slit; smearing her wetness all around her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her thighs trembled to the sensation of his rough movement of his thumb and a string of shaky mewls fell out of her.

“But..” she tried to protest but immediately stopped when Bucky brought his soaked thumb to her mouth. Her lips were wet from how he gently smeared the juices on her, “Taste yourself.” He lured her softly. Hesitation glints in her eyes as her cheeks redden. Bucky’s eyes grew tender at her watery ones, he whispered lowly, “Sweetheart, do you trust me?” 

She does; but she does not trust her own voice to not come out sounding like a needy moan, so she simply nodded. Bucky’s pink lips spread into a smile, “Good girl. Now, open up.” he coaxed lovingly.

Y/N opened her mouth as she was told and let Bucky slip his thumb inside; he was not shy to smother her juices across her tongue, coaxing her to suck on it. To get a taste of what he was having. “It’s sweet”, she thought to herself. A muffled moan purred in her throat at the thought of her husband enjoying the taste of her.

Bucky smirk grew at her reaction, “Tastes good huh, sweetheart?” he pulled his thumb away, leaving her nodding to his question. “Now are you going to let me enjoy your pussy?” his brow quirked when he tilted his head to the side. How can she deny him now? Her eyes glazed with need as she replied,  “Yes, please”.

Her mouth falls open in anticipation as a low moan creeps up her throat. Bucky’s tongue slips past her folds, she watched him between her legs, savouring her pussy with his unfiltered groans vibrating against her sensitive spot. Breathless moans and incoherent pleads fall from her mouth as the soft and firm tip of his tongue circled her swollen pearl and flicked it. Bucky’s hands went to her hips, guiding it in time with her own movements, giving her partial control to set the pace.

“Buckyyyy.” She gasped as she alternated between wanting to push his head away or keep him in place. Meanwhile, the man in between her thighs had lost himself; consumed by pure desire the more he drank from her cunt. His tongue moved faster against her clit when he noticed the beat of her throbbing cunt increased. She was going to come. He was sure of it.

The way that she was practically creaming on his tongue drove him near feral. He kept lapping at her juices as if it was the sweetest honey he ever tasted; fuck he even sucked her clit in hopes to force out more of her nectar to leak; then he’d lap on it again. 

The sweet cycle had pushed Y/N over the edge, her eyes rolling back as pleasure and her hips slightly lifted as pleasure surges through her veins.“Oh oh Bucky please please.” She didn’t what she was begging for as she chanted his name. “I’m gonna, ‘m gonna–“ her words died as she squealed; her body trembling in pleasure. 

His tongue moved faster against her clit; her cum was dripping out of her; coating his beard but his frantic licks didn’t stop even when she continue to gush on his tongue. 

“Bucky please, sensitive..” It was too much; her orgasm, her swollen clit, his tongue. Everything. 

Unfortunately for her, Bucky was far gone to stop now. He had the taste of her cum, now he wants nothing more than to have it again. Despite her protest, Bucky held her hip down, interlocking his hands across her stomach to keep her in place and continue to lick and suck on her overstimulated cunt.

Her whiny pleas didn’t come across as a sign for him to stop; instead it kept him going causing him to bury his face further in between her legs. His cock continued to throb in his pants, probably leaking with so much pre-cum and in need of some sort of relief but he ignored it. He wants nothing more than for Y/N to cum on his tongue again.

And that is exactly what happened next.

The moment she fell over the edge, Bucky pushed her even harder against him as her whole body spasmed. He maintained his pace on lapping up at her all throughout her high as her hands went from his hair to the headboard, trying to hold her limp body upright. Y/N took a moment to gather herself together, panting heavily as she regained their senses; while Bucky was swift to pull his pants off and throw it to the side.

He grabbed on her hips, holding her firmly in place as his heavy leaking cock nestled between her aching pussy. “Are you sure about this, my dear?” his hot breath fanning against her neck as he gently ruts into her heat. Even though Bucky can see the darken lust in her eyes, he still wanted to make sure that she was sure of her decision.

Y/N’s heart swelled at his concern, and she found herself smiling, a genuine smile that reflected the warmth she felt inside. She pulled him closer and kissed him, pouring all her newfound trust and affection into the kiss. “Yes, Bucky. I am very sure. ”

Bucky quickly responded with equal passion, his tongue slipped in between her lips; exploring the warmness of her mouth, the softness of her tongue. Their muffled moans filled the silenced room, his hands moved to caress her sides, drawing her even closer before breaking away from the heated kiss.

Resting his forehead on hers, his eyes trained on her beautiful face; not wanting to miss his chance to witness the pleasure contorting on her expression. He nudges her clit first, rubbing it slow and sensual before trailing down to her entrance. Gradually, he inches closer, he pushes in and through the tightness of her sacred channel.

Delving impossibly deep, her tightness wrapped around his thick cock until the tip of him reached the deepest parts of her. The sudden feeling of fullness on her untainted pussy caused her to experience both pain and the delightful sensation inside her. The ecstasy of being so knitly connected to each other caused both of them to simultaneously let out moans and groans of raw pleasure.

Bucky waited for her to adjust to his size; leaning down to pamper her with the softest kisses and praises that tears started to swell in her eyes. It was as if Bucky knew exactly what she wanted to hear, how she wanted to be treated and what makes her feel good.

“You’re doing so good, my dear.”

“Look at how perfect your pussy’s taking my cock. So perfect.”

“Made for me aren’t you, sweetheart?. Made to be loved by me, made to be stuffed full of my cock.”

“I promise you’ll be safe with me, Y/N. Always.”

When Y/N finally gave him the permission to move, Bucky kissed her pouty lips and murmured sweetly, “Thank you, my dear.” His hands travelled to find her ankle; which he then gently prop her calf over his broad shoulder. He started pumping in and out slowly, letting her get used to the friction. 

Bucky couldn’t help but to groan out to the feeling of her wet hole gripping his cock ever-so-tightly. It was slippery and dripping, that he almost completely slid out of her. Gripping her closer he continue ramming himself back in, deeper, harder; sliding in and out of her at an even pace. Each force of his cock causing her body to jerk in ecstasy; hitting that good spot in her so perfectly.

“S-shit, sweetheart,” he moans deep and heavy as he felt her pussy tightening around him. His metal hand slid in between them and his thumb hones in on her clit. The coldness of his finger made her jolt at first but when he proceeded to rub and pinch on it, everything suddenly started to feel too intense; so incredibly good.

With his fingers assaulting her clit, each thrust of his cock and every deep guttural moan and groan coming from Bucky, she felt her release was growing closer. Bucky also started thrusting faster and harder; he knew he was about to come. Especially when he can feel how much pre-cum has been leaking inside her.

He leaned and rested his forehead on hers, his needy ruts became more and more irregular when her pretty doe eyes looked up at him, “Cum for me, my dear.” his lips brushed against Y/N’s as he coaxed her to her sweet release. His thrusts got harsher and deeper and the friction of his metal finger working on her clit got her cunt to frantically tremble around him, “I wanna feel you milk my cock, sweetheart. Then, I’m gonna my pump cum inside you until you’re leaking.”

Although his words were debauched to no end, however Y/N could sense his genuine affection for her. She felt his sincerity in the way he looked at her, in the way he held her, in the silenced gaze they shared. Overwhelmed with pleasure, her nails dragged across Bucky’s back as she moaned and screamed out his name; letting the high took over her body.

“Fuck,, sweetheart. I’m gonna cum!” groaned as he took in the sound of her pleasured mewls. He ruthlessly grinds into her, savouring the feeling of her cunt tightened around him. With one last rut, he thrust his cock, balls deep inside and let his warm white strings filling her up to the brim. His cock twitches in her fluttering cunt, his legs tensing with every small grind he makes, groaning lowly at her as he bites down on her shoulder, almost drooling on her as he emptied himself completely into her.

Y/N continued to let out strings of soft moans as he pulled out from her leaking cunt; all swollen and sensitive. While she thought she could finally catch some breaths, she didn’t notice the way Bucky was biting on his lip at the sight of his cum dripping out of her, or how his hands lazily tugging on his now hardened cock.

“Dearest?” Bucky hovered above her as he cradled her by her flushed cheeks. She smiled sweetly as she leaned to his touch, “Yes, Bucky?”, she was anticipating him to utter more of those soft words and praises to her; but instead his lips curled into a devilish grin when he slid his cock back into her, immediately pulling a long sinful mewl of his name from her. Bucky hummed approvingly in response; he gently brushed his lips against hers, “May I fill you up again?”

As the morning sun streamed through the windows, Y/N slowly stirred awake. She reached out, instinctively searching for the warmth of her husband beside her, but found the space empty. A pang of loneliness touched her heart, but it was quickly replaced by curiosity when she saw a bouquet of bluebells, her favourite flower, placed delicately on the bedside table.

Next to the bouquet was a note. With a small smile, she picked it up and began to read.

"My Dearest Y/N,

I hate to leave you alone this morning, but I must ensure our journey home is smooth and safe. I trust you slept well, and I promise to return to your side as soon as I can.

Yours always,

Bucky"

The words written on the note were filled with sincerity and reassurance that made her heart flutter. She smiled, a blush creeping across her cheeks as she wondered how he knew bluebells were her favourite.

Just as she was lost in thought, the door opened, and the palace’s maids entered the room. Their faces were a mixture of curiosity and impatience, clearly expecting to see a frightened and bruised young bride.

However, when they saw Y/N's skin, they temporarily froze in their spots. Her skin was indeed bruised, but each one of them recognized the marks for what they were: love marks, not signs of harsh abuse that they were expecting. The traces of Bucky's possessive love were prominent all over her neck, chest, and inner thighs, leaving Y/N blushing as the maids, too, found themselves flushed with embarrassment.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” one of the older maids muttered under her breath, her tone laced with irritation. Another maid, with a more condescending sneer, huffed. “Looks like we lost the bet, ladies. Who would have thought the beast could be so... tender?”

Y/N’s cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and pride. She could feel their resentful glances and knew they were not pleased with the outcome. The marks on her body were a testament to the affection and desire Bucky had shown her, and despite the initial fear, she now wore them as symbols of the unexpected bond they had begun to forge.

The head maid, who had been the most vocal the night before, now seemed to handle her with an edge of bitterness. The other maids, who had been so quick to judge, were now silent, their eyes wide with resentment.One of the younger maids, braver than the rest, couldn’t hide her frustration. “Well, my lady, I suppose you’re alright, then?” she asked, her voice barely masking her disappointment.

Y/N looked at her, considering the appropriate response. If it was up to her, she ought to punish every single one of them for not knowing their place. Unfortunately, they were not her maids to begin with, but the palace's staff. Otherwise, she would likely fire each one of them. 

The memory of Bucky’s affection and care filled her heart, leaving no room for anger or resentment. The warmth of his embrace and the gentle way he had treated her made the maids' behaviour seem petty and insignificant.

She could still feel the lingering touch of his lips on her skin, the way his hands had caressed her so delicately, and the sound of his reassuring voice. Her body was still tingling with the remnants of the previous night's intimacy. Her skin bore the marks of his love, not of brutality, and each bruise was a testament to the passion they had shared. It was completely different to the vile expectations of the maids.

A small smile playing on her lips despite the blush that still coloured her cheeks. "Yes," she said softly, "I am quite alright."

The maids exchanged annoyed glances, their expressions a mix of frustration and disbelief. Their muttered disappointments were tuned out as Y/N focused on the lingering warmth from the night before.

She couldn't hear a single thing except her heart beating to the thought of her husband. She missed him already. Who would’ve thought she’d be swooning for him so soon?

She found herself yearning for his presence, the comfort of his touch, and the sound of his reassuring voice. The memory of his gentle kiss and tender words lingered in her mind yet again, making her heart flutter.

As the maids continued their work, Y/N hoped they would at least perform their duties well enough to cover up for their childish behaviour. She wanted to be ready to see Bucky, to greet him with the same warmth and affection he had shown her. Despite their rudeness, she resolved to focus on the positive, cherishing the newfound bond with her husband.

Bucky stood at the head of the table, his stern expression and commanding presence filling the room. He was reviewing the logistics of their journey home, his voice cold and decisive as he issued instructions to his knights. His trusted knight, Sam, was detailing the possible hotspots for bandits they might encounter along the way.

"We'll likely face trouble here," Sam said, pointing to a spot on the map. "We should send some of our best men ahead to clear the path."

"Agreed," Bucky responded, his tone unyielding. "Deploy the knights in advance. Ensure the path is secure before we proceed."

Sam nodded and continued outlining the plan. He paused, expecting Bucky to reconfirm, but noticed a change in his leader's face. The harsh lines softened, his eyes filled with a tender warmth, as he stared intently at something across the room. Before Sam could look or utter a word, Bucky turned and walked away with determination.

Sam followed Bucky's gaze and understood immediately. "Ah, that's why," he muttered to himself as he watched Bucky approach Y/N. The change in Bucky’s demeanour was striking. He moved with a grace and warmth that was at odds with his usual stern and imposing presence.

Bucky’s eyes softened as he took in the sight of Y/N. He admired her beauty with a gaze filled with awe and adoration. The way he looked at her was as if he was seeing a vision he had longed for, a rare and precious gem that had finally come into his life.

As he extended his hand toward her, a gesture usually seen as etiquette but now entirely with different meaning, especially with the hearts bursting our of his blue eyes. Y/N’s face lighting up with a shy smile, took his hand; almost too eagerly. Bucky's fingers closed gently around hers, his touch tender and reassuring. The contrast between his usual, fearsome reputation and the gentle way he interacted with her was profound, making it clear that his feelings for Y/N were deeply genuine.

Bucky kissed the back of her hand, his lips softly caressing her knuckles. "My dear," he greeted her, using the endearment he had chosen when they first met at the altar. 

The scene seemed like it was pulled raw from a romance novel that the surrounding staff and knights simply watched in shock and awe. "Did he just..." one knight whispered, eyes wide. "Called her 'my dear'?" another finished, equally stunned.

Sam, who had witnessed firsthand the monstrous side of Bucky in war, found himself in a state of utter disbelief, jaw dropped loose. He had seen Bucky’s sword painted blood-red, his face splattered with the gore of countless enemies. The Winter Soldier was a force of nature on the battlefield, his brutal efficiency leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. Sam recalled the sight of Bucky’s cold, unyielding eyes as he cut through foes without hesitation, his armor and weaponry gleaming with the blood of those who dared oppose him.

And yet, here he was, the same man who had struck terror into the hearts of many, now standing before Y/N with a tenderness that seemed unimaginable. Sam could hardly believe his eyes. The disparity was pronounced and bewildering. Bucky’s expression was soft, his movements gentle as he held Y/N’s hand in his.

“I’ve missed you,” Y/N said softly, her eyes shining with affection. She truly did, it would be a lie that she didn’t felt the ache in her heart when she woke up alone that morning. The emptiness beside her had felt profound. The bed still carried his scent, a lingering warmth that whispered of his recent presence. Even though the separation had been brief, as evidenced by the thoughtful note and the bouquet of her favourite flowers he had left behind, the loneliness she felt was palpable. His absence, however fleeting, had created a void that left her feeling incomplete.

Bucky’s heart seemed to burst with emotion. He couldn't care less about the gawking staff surrounding them as he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. She initially froze, caught off guard and embarrassed, but soon melted into his kiss with a blossoming confidence.

As their lips met, memories of their tender and passionate night together surged through Bucky's mind. The way she moan his name, the taste of her cum, the tightness of her pussy gripping on his cock, the way his cum leaked out of her, every single sinful scene replayed in head; infinitely. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and he found himself nearly losing control. Reluctantly, he pulled back from the kiss, his breath uneven and his gaze filled with an unspoken hunger.

"God, what should I do with you, hmm, sweetheart?" Bucky whispered, his voice laced with seduction as he continued to place gentle kisses along her cheeks and jaw. His lips brushed softly against her skin, whispering how much he had missed her and expressing a wistful desire to stay wrapped in the warmth of their shared bed just a little longer.

Y/N’s soft giggle rang out as she felt the roughness of his stubble against her delicate skin. The sound was like music to Bucky's ears, brightening his mood and filling him with a profound sense of joy. Despite the joyful exchange, he reluctantly ended the sweet torment, his kisses lingering just a moment longer before he pulled away.

“We should be ready to begin our journey shortly,” Bucky said, his tone shifting to a more practical note when e turned to Sam, who had approached during their moment of intimacy.

“Y/N, this is Sam Wilson, he is one of my trusted knights.” Bucky introduced, his gaze shifting to his wife. Sam gave a respectful nod to Y/N, a hint of surprise still evident in his expression from witnessing Bucky's affectionate display. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Y/N.”

Y/N smiled warmly at Sam, appreciating the introduction. “The pleasure is mine, Sir Wilson.”

Sam, sensing that the formality was unnecessary given their imminent interactions, decided to ease the situation. “Just Sam, my lady,” he said with a friendly tone. Y/N repeated his name with a touch of amusement. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Sam.”

Bucky, observing the growing camaraderie between his wife and his trusted knight, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of protectiveness. The easy familiarity between them seemed a bit too casual for his liking. His eyes narrowed slightly as he gave Sam a warning look. “Watch it, Wilson.”

Sam, not missing a beat, chuckled at Bucky’s protective demeanour. “What’s the matter, my lord? Can’t handle a bit of friendly conversation?”

Y/N, noticing the playful tension and Bucky’s slight irritation, couldn’t help but laugh. The contrast between Bucky’s usually soft demeanour that Y/N had witnessed and his current protective stance were both endearing and amusing. Her laughter lightened the mood, making Sam’s teasing even more enjoyable.

Bucky's stern gaze softened as he watched Y/N’s laughter, though his protective instinct remained palpable. Steering the conversion back to the preparations, he allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of his mouth despite his earlier warning.

“I trust you can escort my wife to the carriage,” Bucky said, his voice serious but tinged with a hint of a smile. “However, I expect you to maintain proper distance and adhere to these additional guidelines.” He paused, ensuring his words were clear. “No unnecessary physical contact or overly familiar behaviour. And if you could, avoid any casual conversations that might be misinterpreted.”

Sam looked at Bucky in disbelief, shaking his head with a bemused expression. “Seriously, Barnes? You’re laying down rules for me to keep my distance from your wife now?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed playfully. “Consider it a precaution. I’d rather not have any misunderstandings.” Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes as he complied. “Understood. I’ll make sure to follow your... guidelines.”

Y/N watched the exchange with amusement, her earlier shyness melting away into a warm appreciation for Bucky’s protectiveness. The scene, tinged with a touch of comedy, only deepened the connection between them.

Bucky, intent on making a point to Sam while expressing his affection, pulled Y/N close and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. The gesture was both intimate and deliberate, a subtle yet clear indication to Sam that she belongs to Bucky. “I’ll join you shortly, my dear,” Bucky said softly, his voice filled with warmth as he gazed into her eyes.

Sam, unimpressed by Bucky’s display, rolled his eyes at the seemingly childish antics. “This way, my lady,” he said with a hint of impatience. Y/N nodded in agreement but paused before turning her back on Bucky. With a loving smile, she whispered, “I’ll see you later,” before following Sam.

Bucky watched as Sam guided Y/N away, his gaze lingered with a mix of affection and something much deeper; an unspoken sadness. As their silhouettes walked further and further away from his sight, a sombre glaze settled over his eyes.

Beneath the surface of his composed exterior, his heart ached; the was a silent reflection of a pain he had hidden deep within his heart. It was a lingering sorrow that had shadowed him ever since he stood at the altar, the weight of unvoiced grief clinging to him as he gazed at his future bride.

Part II >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Wondering why he was in the feels at the end? We’ll know it soon enough. I’ll see you in the next parts! Thank you for reading!

[vultbae]

small world ❀

art donaldson x female reader

part two (soon)

↳ summary: Art and Patrick were once your peers at the Mark Rebellato Academy —not the nicest ones. Five years later, you've made a friend that can help you fuck with their minds a little.

↳ warnings: making out, dry humping, manipulation, a lot of pettiness, mentions of bullying, and weight!! the dumbification of art donaldson tbh

↳ notes: Istg I be having the most random ideas, but I hope you enjoy!! as always, english is not my first language lolz

word count: 3.1k

Tashi enters the living room with a bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes, moving gracefully in a beautiful blue mini-dress. With a soft pop, she eases the cork, instantly pouring the effervescent gold-ish liquid into the two glasses. 

"You shouldn't even worry about them," Tashi says with a wry smile. As she finishes serving you some rosé Veuve Clicquot, she hands you the glass. "What are you—like, the second or third in Europe? They are gonna be broke by their thirties," she concludes, staring at you with confident eyes.

You nod, taking a sip of champagne. "Don't see it as serious; it'll be fun."

Tashi raises her glass, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes. "Im just saying, don't stress over men."

You clink your flute against Tashi’s. "Alright."

A year and a half ago, you had met Tashi Duncan, who you believed was a hard-hearted bitch but ended up being a close friend of yours. She is merciless, proficient, and goddamn; she has that vicious aura you worship so much. While living in Biot, you'd always look for the nearest CRT to watch Tashi flawlessly play, enchanted by how she unnerved her adversaries.

During summer break, your father dragged you out of the academy to visit California for a benefaction event. Amidst the glamour and chatter of the event, you caught sight of Tashi —most likely attending due to her relevance spiking around the area. Luckily, your connection rapidly deepened, fueled by reciprocal admiration and tennis dependence.

And the commitment to stay in touch despite the geographical distance worked. Tashi became pretty much your best friend, and you became hers. Aside from the workaholic aspect, the resemblances between you were too much to ignore. Sooner than later, you discovered much about Tashi's personal life, the players she liked and despised, and her daily anecdotes regarding tennis and her intimate life. And that's how you became acquainted with Fire and Ice's peculiar hyper-fixation on Tashi.

Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig.

You thought it was a unique offering from God. You didn't expect you'd get the opportunity to face the golden pair again. When Tashi told you she had met Zweig and Donalson, a powerful sentiment of gratitude washed over you. You nearly fell to your knees when she proceeded to explain they were a walking boner for her. If that wasn't high power granting you a second chance to delight yourself, it was an insane coincidence.

But telling Tashi the backstory was a different pain in the ass. Although she expressed some sort of disgust towards Zweig and Donaldson's brainless carnal-based attitude, you couldn't buy it.  And your skepticisms were demonstrated as valid when she —dreamy voice and all that shit— confessed through the phone she nearly had a threesome with them. A fucking threesome. You couldn't hold it back anymore, so you told her everything.

Tashi was aware of tennis's influence on your household, as you were raised by two renowned tennis coaches from the States. When you turned eight, your parents turned you in at the Mark Rebellato Academy —as if you were condemned to play tennis by default. The detrimental part of your journey was developing thyroid issues when you were twelve. Jesus, twelve years old — the commencement of the preteen period where kids either kiss your feet or bully you. One year after, along with the anticipated weight gain, you met Art and Patrick. And as if you weren't unfortunate enough already, the two —who at the time looked like fucking Beavis and Butthead— decided they didn't like your physical appearance. They hated it.

“Hey, Y/l/n!” Patrick’s voice rang out, sharp and mocking.

You froze, your heart sinking to the underground. You tried to focus on your serve, but your hands were immobile. 

Patrick sauntered over, his smirk widening as he looked you up and down. “What’s the matter, Y/n? Ball too heavy for you to lift?”

You heard Art’s laughter behind your back. He joined in a kind of trembling voice. “Or maybe she’s saving her strength for lunch. She doesn't hesitate when it comes to eating.”

The echo of them and the rest of the kids on the court laughing was a sound that felt like daggers piercing your heart.

After two years of ceaseless bullying and humiliation—which also distracted you from tennis—your parents sent you to The Mouratoglou Tennis Academy in Biot, a small town in France. You are not sure if it was the harassment itself, the low self-esteem, or possibly your undeniable attraction for Donaldson. It didn't matter. By the age of seventeen, you were undoubtedly one of the major promises of European tennis.

So, explaining the theatrical, soap opera-like backstory to Tashi for your detestation of Zweig and Donaldson took time. But when you did, it was worth it because Tashi didn't distrust your testimony, and if anyone was exhilarated to play some moves against them at the beginning, it was Duncan. 

That's the explanation behind Tashi pitching a tremendous party to celebrate her commitment to Stanford. This was absurd, to say the least, considering she had college offers piling up, and no one doubted she would commit to a prestigious school. But Tashi knew you'd visit from France, and this was just the perfect instance to hook you up with both condemned.

Because, of course, her biggest fangirls would attend. 

It didn't take long until the country house was full of people ranging from Tashi's cousins to bare acquaintances. And spotting Fire and Ice was easier than you thought. 

Tashi elbows you discreetly and signs with her head the direction they are standing. "There they are."

Your gaze falls over Art, who is laughing with —who you assume is—Patrick. His features are sharper and more defined. The lanky, slender physique you remembered from his premature teenage years had filled out into a more athletic build, with broader shoulders tapering to a trim waist covered in a light pink shirt. His blonde hair, which was no longer too light, was now strawberry blonde-ish, slightly tousled, and cascading over his ears.

Patrick, standing a few feet away, was equally transformed. His brunette hair, just a bit longer than you remember, frames a face that had hardened over the years—angular jaw, defined cheekbones, and piercing eyes that seem to miss nothing. The fucking smirk is still there, and you can see how he displays it every two seconds at whatever thing Art is telling him.

The interior of your stomach resembles a volcano about to erupt. You feel ambivalent, so many emotions overlapping each other. You see two cute, hell, gorgeous guys, and you wish you could approach them without considering crucifying them before. And you can't help but feel envious at how effortlessly Tashi managed to tame Art and Patrick while the only thing you got from them was hostility.

Your eyes can't seem to unbuckle from them. Tashi catches you slightly frowning at the panorama, and she isn't certain if you are infatuated or planning murder on the spot. "Come on."

You have no time to react before Tashi leads you through some partygoers to reach where Zweig and Donaldson are. Like dogs sniffling fresh meat, it's pathetic how their heads twist simultaneously when Tashi approaches them, conversation instantly pausing. It is as if Tashi's presence was magnetic for them.

"Well, hello, both of you," Tashi greets them excitedly, still holding your hand. "Didn't think you'd come."

Art's eyes widen, "Are you kidding?" he's about to keep speaking, but his gaze merges with yours for a split second, and he shuts off. Dead. Silent. 

"—Stanford's a big deal, Tashi." Patrick interrupts, compensating for the awkwardness of Art's sudden number. "I had to drag this lazy fuck out of his bed, but we made it."

Suddenly, Art's out of the trance, tearing his blue eyes off you to bombard Patrick with a killer look. "Hey—shut up, Patrick."

Tashi sweetly, softly giggles at their word exchange. God, she's good, you think. Tashi turns to gesture to you, "This is my friend, Claire, by the way. She is visiting from the Mouratoglou Academy—

To be fair, Claire is a believable name.

"Wait, the Patrick Mouratoglou Academy? In France?" Art runs over Tashis's sentence, incredulously shooting you a broad-eyed glare. You nod in agreement, still processing you are having a civil conversation with Art Donaldson.

You feel Tashi squeezing your hand at your quietness.

"Yeah, you know it?" you timidly ask, forcing a polite smile that, if you were Art, you wouldn't buy it. But, of course, he's as dumb as a pigeon.

"Heck... Of course, I do. I wish I could go there."

Tashi smirks, enjoying the spectacle. 

Patrick’s investment in the conversation piques. "Mouratoglou, huh? That's impressive. Maybe we could hit the court sometime."

And that's the first time Patrick makes eye contact with you. He's stabbing you with his stare. You abruptly wonder if he's as dumb as Art, probably not. 

You squeeze Tashi's hand.

Tashi leans closer to Patrick, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "Hey, Pat... do you remember what you mentioned about erectile dysfunction? My aunt's a sexologist, I think—

Patrick loudly chuckles, apparently alarmed by the deficiency of filtering confidential information. "I need to smoke sum' stronger. Wanna come, Tash?"

Tashi purses her lips, casting a quick glance at you. "Sure."

Your point of view is like a sitcom scene, swiftly panning from Tashi's body leaving your radar to the boy in front of you, staring at you with soothing eyes and reddened cheeks. It's basically comical.

Art's eyes dart around the lively yard before landing back on you. He clears his throat. "So, uh, Claire? That's a cute name."

It takes tons of willpower not to drop the good girl act right there. You attempt to return the sentiment with a quirk on the corner of your lips. "I need to get a drink. Come with me?"

He shakes his head up and down, finding it easier than answering with words.

For the first time in a couple of months, the inside of Art's mind has more than a giant cardboard cutout of Tashi Duncan. He is in awe. 

You lead the way, weaving through clusters of drunk teenagers towards the house. You feel Art's gaze lingering on your back —or ass, you don't know—a magnetic pull that makes you hyper-aware of his presence.

You arrive in the kitchen and quickly grab a bottle of vodka, a can of soda, and a party cup. Art watches you closely with a look of hypnotic admiration as if you were concocting the most complicated cocktail in the world. You want to roll your eyes so badly.

"That dress looks amazing on you." Art blurts out, unable to contain his thoughts any longer. 

You look at him. Art is sitting on one of the high stools by the kitchen island, his elbow resting on the table's sleek surface, supporting his chin with his hand. There is a softness in his eyes completely foreign to you, an infrequent vulnerability that contrasts sharply with the characteristic asshole demeanor you remember.

To Art, you appear almost ethereal, like an ideal concept from a wet dream of his. His thoughts are a kaleidoscope of jumbled fragments of memory that make no sense. You look so familiar... but no. 

There's no way he would forget about you.

You glance up, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. "Thank you," you reply, handing him a drink.

Art sips on his red plastic cup, eyes hooked on yours. "So, uhm. I just realized I never introduced myself properly. Im Art—

"Yeah, Donaldson, I know." you cut him off, leaving him completely silent and confused. "I've seen you play. Not bad," you clarify, with an unconscious hint of pride in your voice.

Art's smile widens. "Wait, you've seen me play?" he exaggeratedly emphasizes me. 

You nod.

His eyes twinkle with excitement. There’s this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "That's, uh, great. Next time you are watching, I'll play better..."

His innate nerdiness and try-hard flirtiness provoke nausea in you. If you didn't know him, it would be a different story. But seeing a former, intense crush who shamelessly bullied you for so long, giving you heart-shaped eyes...

It's fucking bizarre. And it pisses you off.

Art begins conversing about something else. You don't know what—tennis-related, maybe. You are not wearing earphones with noise cancellation, but you can't hear him anymore. It's a blur as his words course through one ear and depart through the other. Immediately. Your brain has simply blocked the action of listening to him.

You step closer, so close you can see the fine lines in his eyes, the flecks of green amidst the blue, with a hint of brown sectoral heterochromia on his right eye. You can smell the faint woody scent of his cologne, something spicy that makes you salivate. His lips keep moving, forming words that dissolve into the dim background noise. The music, the laughter, the chatter—they all blend into a distant hum.

Art's voice vanishes into oblivion as you fix your gaze on his mouth, the curve of his lips, the way they part and close as he speaks. "Art," you say, stopping him in his tracks.

His eyes flicker with uncertainty, puzzlement, and a spark of hope. His adam's apple throbs as he notices you staring at his lips.

You lean in, your breath mingling with his, your heart pounding in your chest. Your hand reaches up, fingers brushing against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin and the slight stubble that prickles against your touch. Art's breath hitches, his eyes widening in surprise, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he leans in, too.

Your lips crash against his. Although you don't want to make it weird, you fail. It's not a gentle kiss or a precious, out-of-a-book lips meeting. It's fierce, instructing, a clash of sour sentiments and intent. You pour all your frustration, your pent-up anger, and your fucked-up desire to overpower him into that kiss. 

Art's shock melts away and quickly replaces it with an appetite that matches yours. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours. The kiss deepens, his lips parting to allow your tongue to explore, to taste the unmistakable flavor of cigarette and cheap vodka. You can feel the warmth of his breath and the way his hands tighten on your waist. It's almost as if he's frightened you'll pull away at some point.

And you can only fantasize about the moment you walk away.

—but not yet. You push harder, your fingers tugging slightly in his messy strawberry-blonde hair. He lowly moans into your mouth, a sound that dispatches a shiver down your spine. His hands roam your back, tracing the curve of your spine and dangerously lowering to your ass level. There's a distress in his touch you never thought would come from him.

The way he's dissolving under your venomous touch is already a win for you. You've managed to put him under you. And it's intoxicating, this control you have over him, this ability to make him forget everything else.

You pull back, your lips hovering just above his. Art's eyes are half-lidded, his lips swollen and ridiculously red from the intensity of the kiss. He looks at you in pure infatuation, "What- I... Did I do something wrong?"

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him again. "Come with me."

You peek at the party going outside—most people are outside. The living room is nearly empty, with a few alcoholized individuals entering the country house to refill their drinks. It's perfect.

You take Art's hand, your fingers lacing through his, and you lead him toward the sectional, six-seat couch in the center of the living room. You push Art down onto the couch, and he complies without resistance, his lust-drunken eyes never leaving yours; he nearly chokes on his spit at the sight of you slowly straddling him, your knees sinking into the soft cushions on either side of his hips.

"Jesus, Claire—"

You get the ick at the roleplay name Tashi baptized you with. 

"Shh," you whisper, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a soft, teasing kiss. "You never shut up, Donaldson."

And that's odd for him. He gives it a second thought because he isn't aware of how much he has talked, but definitely not that much. 

The overthinking vanishes as soon as you begin to kiss him again, slowly at first, savoring the way his lips deliciously move against yours. Art's hands rest tentatively on your hips, his fingers twitching as if afraid to hold on too tight. You guide his hands around your waist, urging him to hold you closer. His grip tightens, and you can feel the heat of his palms through the delicate fabric of your black mini-dress.

A sigh rolls out from your throat when you perceive something hard putting pressure against your core —which, because of the dress, is only shielded by thin lace panties. The coarse fabric of Art's light denim jeans rubs splendidly against your pussy. 

A primitive groan slips out of Art's lips the moment you grind your hips against his clothed dick. Suddenly, he breaks the kiss, and his eyes wander downwards. "Shit— you'll kill me," he pants into your mouth.

You pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. They're dark with craving, his pupils dilated. "Then let me."

You are about to attack his lips again, but he hesitates. You tilt your head in confusion, murmuring a low what?

Art starts to speak, his voice shaky and breathless. "I... I was wondering if you wanted to go back to my hotel with me."

Before you can respond, Tashi suddenly appears in your vision behind Art's head. "Claire, there you are," she says, fucking loud with a knowing, manipulative smile on her lips. "Your dad called, he's outside."

You feel a surge of delicious triumph as you see the apparent dissatisfaction in Art's eyes. 

"Sorry, Art," you say, standing up and smoothing your dress. "Maybe another time."

There’s a raw sadness in his eyes, an almost childlike hurt that he can’t quite conceal. He isn't even drunk; he's fully conscious of the stunning girl he just met and now is evaporating as if she was going to turn into a wolf at midnight or something. 

As you are about to disappear from Art's vision, he shouts at you, "I'll see you later, right?"

But you don't answer.

Instead, you hurriedly walk with Tashi to reach the front yard. 

"I didn't lie about your dad being here, though," Tashi clarifies, pointing at the big Jeep parked in front of the country house.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, a smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, alright." You glance back at the house to ensure you are out of earshot. "I think fucking him would've been better. Do you think he's gonna remember about this tomorrow?"

"Oh, yeah. This is definitely gonna fuck his head up for a while." Tashi chuckles, "he's pretty obsessive."

You feel a swell of fulfillment at your best friend's words. "How obsessive?"

Tashi smiles. "A lot."

❀

[angelic--kitty]

i can't believe tungle.hellsite won't let me submit my cooking to you pookie :(

dom!ceo arlecchino x sub!intern reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, power dynamics (ceo and intern)

a/n: i got you, i'm uploading it here. enjoy some delicious arlecchino x reader thoughts from bun, everyone ♡ and happy belated birthday, arlecchino ❤️

you're a brand new intern at a massive fortune 500 type company. there were a limited number of positions available and you already had to compete with the other fresh faced graduates just to interview here, and only a small number of you were hired on. despite being sold on the opportunity to "break into the industry with fresh new ideas" you mostly spent your day running around at the behest of disgruntled seniors- retrieving coffee and lunch orders, delivering documents to other branches, and taking notes during meetings- all largely thankless tasks. it's clear you're seen less as a potential new coworker and just another intern that'll be chewed up and spit out in a month. but you do your work, show up early and stay late to better your chances at getting the boss's attention.

and that you do.

despite your best intentions, you're clearly not the best intern; messed up and mixed up orders, misdelivery of correspondence, it was clear you were trying your best, yet you couldn't quite catch a break.

so the boss pulls you into her office, having you sit across from her desk. your head bowed in shame, not wanting to meet her gaze, instead staring down at the nameplate on her desk

_"arlecchino, chief executive officer"_

surely you're going to be fired, no amount of genuine intention or passion for the field could save you now.

she tells you you're not cut out to be an intern here, a sentiment you unfortunately agree with. and then, she offers you a different position... one that would mean no more running around the office trying not to spill coffee, or spending hours shredding papers for the seniors who haven't bothered to remember your name.

one that will technically have you working longer hours, but you were already coming early and staying late to prove yourself, so surely that won't be much of an issue. arlecchino herself was usually the first to arrive and last to leave anyway, so what better way to earn your salary here than spend those hours in her office, warming her cock?

of course, that's not all you're going to be doing. in between her own work and smoke breaks she does take a moment or two to push you up against the desk and give you a good fucking before resuming her work.

she'll keep you under her desk, patting your pretty little head while your lips are wrapped around her cock, telling you to keep quiet when one of your fellow coworkers stops by her office. she'll have you bent over that desk, challenging you to not make a sound as her hand assaults your cunt, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you while she's on a conference call, knowing even the smallest sound is going to be heard by everyone on the line.

officially, you've been "promoted" to her personal assistant. odd, considering she never expressed a need for an assistant in the past, always preferring to do her work herself. but you know exactly what she means by that title. to keep up appearances, she still has you doing some basic assistant tasks not unlike your intern duties. why don't you go fetch her a coffee, sweetheart? don't worry, she'll keep your panties here in her desk until you get back. be a good girl and take some notes for her during the board meeting, if you can concentrate that is, given how she's fiddling with that vibe she stuffed inside you.

there's a big conference happening overseas, and she'll have to take a business trip out for it. good thing the company pays for the nicest hotels in the area, and how thoughtful that she was able to bring you along for the trip. sure she'll be dragging you along to boring business meetings, with She’s dragging you along to boring business meetings, your instructions being to sit quietly and nod along, take some notes, and don’t give away the fact that she made you cum in the elevator on the way up here.

the more you behave, the more she rewards you, and the further she starts to push things. you handled that meeting well, now let's see if you can handle sitting through another without your panties and her cum slowly leaking out of you. no need for notes at this meeting, but you still need to look busy, so why don't you write down some ideas for what she should do to you once you're back at the hotel? the flight home is booked an entire day after the conference and all the meetings have ended, just so she has some extra time to fuck you stupid before you two leave; a whole extra day with no obligations, dedicated to you naked in that bed and her belt wrapped around your neck like a collar.

when you get back to the office the next day, your legs are still trembling like a newborn lamb. "poor thing doesn’t do so well on planes" she’d tell anyone who asked, as if you two weren’t riding first class with her hand shoved up your cunt a majority of the flight

[watcherintheweyr]

Green stans not understanding the reason alicent attacked rhaenyra at driftmark just proves media literacy is fucking dead.

She literally says it. "Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?" Because she's angry Rhaenyra didn't lay down to suffer alongside her.

To her, Rhaenyra marrying who the crown told her to, to fix Viserys' alienation and insult of house Velaryon wasn't enough. Rhaenyra serving and participating on the Small council for years as heir wasn't enough. Rhaenyra swallowing her terror of childbirth to provide the throne with heirs wasn't enough. Sitting and ruling the heirs seat wasn't enough. Acting as heir and trying to solve problems such as the ep.2 Dragonstone conflict wasn't enough. She SAYS IT in episode 2- tells Rhaenyra, the **named heir** that it is not her place to question the plots of kings and men when Rhaenyra expressed the fear that they are plotting to set her aside and remarry her father.

Because she **cannot stand** that Rhaenyra dared to grasp for power and autonomy while doing these things. She cannot stand that Rhaenyra dared to try and be happy whilst also fulfilling her duties. She cannot stand that she did 'everything right' and 'served the kingdom, the family, the law' and is miserable and alone. She was queen for 20 years and only ever used her power to harm Rhaenyra and her children and to further her own abuse onto her own daughter.

All she used her power for was to protect Cole from the consequences of murdering a knight at a royal wedding. To protect Cole from the consequences of slandering the crown princess. To cover up Larys **murdering his family** because while she acted oh so horrified, it served her needs. To cover up Aegons abuses- and we see even as early as ep 6 that female staff are afraid of him.

To protect Cole from the consequences of **bullying and trying to harm** Rhaenyras sons in 'training.' To instill hatred and treason in her children against their sister. To explicitly allow Argon to bully Aemond as he likes so long as when they're in the public eye, they present a united front.

She did everything right but she's miserable and alone. Rhaenyra made the system that harmed women work for her, and wasn't. And she couldn't stand it. To her, Rhaenyra not accepting the rule and superiority of the men around them was the ultimate betrayal. Rhaenyra protecting herself from Alicent, who was above and all, primarily Otto's creature, by not sharing her secrets, was a crime.

Alicent didn't attack Rhaenyra and Luke for Aemond. She did it for herself.

And now the kingdom saw her for who she was. Jealous, greedy, grasping.

Nothing Rhaenyra ever did would be enough duty or sacrifice to her. Because Rhaenyra wasn't suffering alongside her. Olivia Cooke states as much herself.

She has become a tool of the patriarchy against other women. She ISNT the moral dutiful paragon she presents herself as.

Rhaenyra was right when she fired back with 'exhausting wasn't it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are." Because Alicent played her hand. She revealed the jealousy, the greed and that loathing she has towards Rhaenyra for simply not laying down beside her to suffer and sacrifice, whilst men rule and hold power.

She hates Rhaenyra for not serving men as women should- that's what she means when she calls Rhaenyra entitled. That's what she means when she says Rhaenyra 'tramples it under her pretty foot.'

Rhaenyra being the heir that a man 'should' be- that she wants her son to be, as payment for suffering and doing her duty- is a slap in the face to Alicent and she can't stand it. Nevermond that as shown in ep 2 and ep 6 that Rhaenyra is GOOD at it. That's why she scoffed in ep 6, that's why she dismissed Rhaenyras concerns and place in ep 2.

She cannot fucking stand it. And now they see her as she is.

[shisabun]

Before I start, I just want to say thank you to the husbands, brothers, and fathers who voted to support their daughters, sisters, and wives. What I'm about to say doesn't include you.

To the women who voted for Trump, you are a disgrace. Thanks to you, your children and grandchildren will be forced to fight the war that was won by your grandmothers.

You sit content and joyful while others mourn. You laugh in the face of their fears when there's a knife floating above your head poised to fall. You have no idea what's coming, but any woman with half a braincell does.

Let me tell you a story. My great aunt was basically my grandmother. She was born in the 1930s in Spain. Right after their revolution. Right after Spain became a dictatorship. She told me so many stories in her final years that I'll keep with me for the rest of my life. But I'll give one example.

One of her closest friends married young. Her husband claimed she was unfaithful and literally beat her to death. He was never arrested. He was never convinced. He walked away free and remarried in less than a month. Catholicism wouldn't allow divorce back then. He wanted to get remarried and simply got away with it because he was a cop. Franco gave cops full impunity. So does Project 2025.

I know some people reading this are rolling their eyes, and you know what?

Fuck. You. You are trash.

That girl was murdered at 20, and her killer walked free after openingly admitting it. My Tia never told me her name, but she carried her in her heart until the day she died at 98. And so do I.

To my fellow women who are mourning and scared right now, I'll give you the same advice my mother gave me. "Have your cry. Then get up and get things done. You're strong enough not to have this break you."

You are Mary and Esther. You are Caterina Sforza. You are Princess Diana. You are Anna May Wong. You are the living legacy of every woman who has come before you. You carry their strength, their courage, and their determination.

This shit is going to suck. Pure and simple. But we'll do what we've always done. We'll bite and claw our way to a better future. We'll tear down every obstacle so our children and grandchildren will have an easier path to walk.

We are dragons in human form. Steel your heart and give them nothing. Do not give them your affection, your care, or your bodies. Fuck being demure and mindful. When they spew hate, you spit fire. When they ask for your smile, you give them your fangs. Become a walking inferno that they have no choice but to take note of. Do not yield.

You are powerful, and you are not alone. You are a sister in a coven that is millions strong. You are the daughters of the witches they couldn't burn.

To my fellow Millennials. I know you're tired. Our young adult lives were stolen from us, and we've been struggling uphill ever since. But do what the previous generation never did for us. Fight. Fight for the ones that are entering adulthood. Fight for the children who have no idea what they're about to grow into.

They called us snowflakes for pointing out their flaws. Fine. Let's give them a fucking blizzard. If they try to build momentum, we stop them. We are at the age where we need to be both shield and anchor. Let. Nothing. Pass.

We're about to face an orange shitstorm of epic proportions. But we'll do as we've always done. We fight, we endure, and we win. In the words of Samwise Gamgee, "There's good in this world, and it's worth fighting for."

[avtrbee]

safe

✢ summary: just like everyone else, sometimes megumi just wants his mom.

✢ tags: mentions of the death of a pet, implied satoru x reader

✢ a/n: my friend has psychoanalyzed me with a diagnosis of mommy issues and i have always denied them. then i caught myself reflecting on what type of fanfics i write. especially this one.

Ever since Megumi had started school in Tokyo, he was barely home. Of course, he comes home every now and then, and living within the school's dormitories is part of the high school experience- hell, even you stayed in the school when you were a student- but the house is quiet without him, too quiet, which is probably why he does not go home as often as you'd like- that, among other things.

Everyone in your household knew that Tsumiki was what made your house into a home. Your girl always greeted you with a smile and volunteered to make hot meals for the family when you and Satoru didn't feel like cooking. She was warmth, she was energy, she was life. Until she wasn't.

The house became cold without its fire. You couldn't blame Megumi for wanting an escape from the halls that still echo her memory. Which was why you were surprised to see him sitting on the couch with his arms resting on his thighs, hands buried in his face.

"Megumi?" You call. "I didn't hear you come in."

His head lifts up and looks at you. "Liar," he accuses. "You can sense my cursed energy miles away. You knew I was coming home as soon as you felt it ."

His words were harsh but his tone was not off of his usual deadpan manner of speaking. You can't help but smile. He is still the same child who refused to sleep unless he clung to his divine dogs, Tsumiki, you, or Satoru (reluctantly, of course) in some way. He claimed it was for "warmth."

But he knows you as much as you know him. As he made his way to the house, you noticed something- his cursed energy was off. It was more powerful than usual. Of course, it could be a good thing- perhaps he was doing really well in school, but his downcast eyes and even broodier vibe are telling you otherwise. "What's wrong?"

Megumi leans back on the couch, sighs, and contemplates. He stares at your wall that is decorated with framed pictures and pictures you memories from his childhood. You've even framed pictures of his drawings- usually doodles of his shikigami.

He stands abruptly. "Never mind," he dismisses. "I don't wanna- I don't want to talk about it. It's childish and stupid-"

"Stupid enough to make you retreat back home?" You ask. You watch as your question sinks in through Megumi. Slowly, he sits back down. You sit on the other end of the couch.

"What's wrong, 'Gumi?" You ask again. "Tell me." I can fix it. Whatever it is, if I can fix it, I will shouts your inner thoughts.

"I lost one of them," Megumi whispers.

“Oh, Megumi, I-” you say, racking your brain for something to say. Deaths in the jujutsu world is so common that when you’re within the industry for too long you get used to it. “Losing a colleague- this won’t be the first time, baby. Nor will it be the last.”

“No,” Megumi groans out frustrated. There are tears streaming down his cheeks that he angrily wipes away. “My dogs. I lost one. I- Yuki died.”

Your heart breaks at Megumi’s childhood name for his white demon dog. “‘Gumi, I’m so sorry-”

You move to his side of the couch, wide arms open. Megumi falls in, just like he did when he was small. Megumi feels himself melt in your hold, his walls and defenses crumbling away like ash.

Megumi refuses to cry at all times but when you have his arms wrapped around him he finds himself not caring at all. It was like his heart recognized you too.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and you pretend not to feel his tears.

You hold him until he lets you. Megumi is the one to pull away, and you never do. This boy js fickle with touch, and you always leave the duration of your hugs to his discretion.

You cup his face in your hands, thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. You’ve never seen Megumi this heartbroken before.

“I told him to scout the area and I just left him for a second- and he-” Megumi hiccups. “His head was on the wall. The curse threw his head so hard it made the pavement crack.”

You do not pretend to know his pain for you will never feel it. Megumi’s divine dogs were his first achievement. He smiled the first time he summoned them, even as Satoru threw him in the air in joy. Those dogs would trail after him in the house, obeying his command. You would turn a blind eye to the spare pieces of meat Megumi throws under the table just so they could taste cooked beef.

Megumi would refuse to let them go even when he slept, and was upset that they would disappear when he rested or lowered his guard. As a present, Satoru gifted him customized stuffed animals of the dogs that he never slept without. You were sure he packed those toys with him in the dorm.

When Tsumiki volunteers to run errands, Megumi would summon a dog and follow her. Just in case. They both always came back safe.

“He just did what I commanded, he was good, he was a good boy.” Megumi said, in a quieter voice.

“The best,” you agreed. “But didn’t Yuki merge with the other one? Isn’t that how your technique works when one of them dies?”

“It’s stupid-” A glare from you was all it took. “It’s not the same,” he admits. “I just want my dogs back.”

You give him a sad smile. You pull him close for another hug, and he melts in your arms once again but this time, he does not pull away. You hold him until his tears have dried, until his breaths slowed down, and until his eyes closed for a well deserved rest.

extra note: yuki apparently means snow in japanese. get it? snow=white demon dog (im not creative at all yall)

[bones4thecats]

Henlo! Could I request some headcanons where Cooler, Frieza, Android 17, and Gohan get the "If anything happens, I love you" message from their S/O? Maybe S/O was away for a little while before getting into a dangerous situation, but is found injured but alive.

Their S/O Gets Severely Injured

Characters: Cooler, Frieza, Android 17 and Gohan Requester: ❤️‍🩹Anon A/N: I now nickname you ❤️‍🩹Anon, since your prompt is about y’know… healing and whatnot. Anyways, this is my first Dragon Ball piece so I do not guarantee that they are all in character, so warning there I guess. By the way, in Gohan's piece, the reader is female since y'know... Pan and all. Now, enjoy, I guess!

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————- 　 Cooler　 ————————————-««

🧊 When Cooler first inherited his portion of his family's army, he wasn't amused with how small it was. But, when comparing his power to his younger brother's, it was understandable why it was so differentiating when it comes to size

🧊 Thankfully, his father, King Cold, was kind enough to give him the district that you, his darling S/O of many years, lead with a high amount of nobility and pride

🧊 Cooler has been away for a while when you were sent out by Frieza to cover a nearby planet and either gain their trust or completely annihilate them without any mercy. It was truly your call there

🧊 But, when he returned to see that you and your band of armored warriors were missing and have been for a few hours, Cooler began to become nervous. You were never gone this long when taking care of some minor business on Frieza, King Cold, or even Cooler's orders

" Lord Frieza! There seems to be a misreading! "

" What do you mean by a misreading? " Frieza questioned, a sense of annoyance and a very small amount of curiosity laced him his already pissy tone.

" It seems that the planet we sent Section 213 to is full of powerful fire-demons, much like us! "

" What?! "

🧊 After hearing this, your lover demanded to see your coordinates and send out another section, Section 89, out to find you and your teammates. And while his younger sibling attempted to reassure him of your team's power, Cooler merely pushed him aside and began to descend with Section 89 right behind him

🧊 Once landed, Cooler began to fight with the team following suite, knocking each beast aside with relative average stats. While it took on average two or three members per monster, they were taking care of them relatively quick

" Y/N? Y/N, where the hell are you?! "

" She's over here, Master Cooler! "

🧊 Running at a high-speed that could be compared to the super-saiyan's, Cooler stopped in his tracks when seeing your bruised and cut-up body. You had a large gash on the side of your stomach, and he could tell from a mere few feet away that you needed immediate medical assistance

🧊 Once returned, Cooler yelled for the healers to fix you. Though, it was hard for them to focus with both Frieza and Cooler glaring at them from behind. Frieza was only there because he couldn't afford to lose a powerful warrior and by-far one of the most talented fighters he had left after the battle on Namek

🧊 At some point, the doctor had to push the two outside, which was where Cooler stayed while tyrannical emperor left to sort out the rest of his ship from the chaos

" Master Cooler. Your S/O is all patched up. "

" And? "

" They will make it perfectly well. They'll just need a few days of healing. They're quite lucky. If they were a mere Yardrat or Tuffle they'd most likely be beyond any kind of help. "

" Good. Now, leave. I must see them for myself. "

" Understood. "

🧊 While he sat down in a seat right beside your medical bed, Cooler just sighed and ran a hand across your cheek, which had multiple cuts and bruises, not to mention a slight burn that reached from your chin to your forehead in a straight line. Oh, how awful was it on that damned planet?

🧊 You'll tell him when you wake up. Yes you will. But for now, Cooler can lay his head down on your bed and rest for a bit before you awaken form your long-overdue power-nap

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————- 　 Frieza　 ————————————-««

🏔️ Frieza has hated being in Hell for the many years he was wrapped up like a larvae becoming a butterfly or moth and sung to like a baby by cutesy-bears and fairies. Due to this, he had a ton of pent-up anger. Which, while he did not mean it, he had accidentally taken out on a small fraction of his army

🏔️ From this lose in members, Frieza had no choice but to send out one of his best teams; Team Y/N. Which just so happened to be led by his favorite soldier and his one and only spouse, Y/N

🏔️ Before you and your team evacuated to check for any signs of life on the now-destroyed and bare wasteland that was once a prosperous land, you had left a solid message for your husband. One that he would forever regret not telling you in person

" If anything happens, I love you? That cheesy moron... "

" As if you are any better, brother. "

" Shut it, Cooler! "

🏔️ You and your team had just barely landed when one of them was snatched away with stupendous speed. This kind of speed was alarming to you and your underlings, causing a couple of them to panic and get snatched themselves

🏔️ Meanwhile on the ship, a fairly-rounded serving demon was observing the life-monitors that laid within each Frieza's Force member's body. And once he noticed the way they were immediately falling like flies, his tail feathers erupting and knocking his chair back, alarming his Highness

" What is going on down there?! " Frieza barked.

" Team Y/N is getting pummeled, killed even! We need to send people down there- now! "

🏔️ Frieza stood abruptly and ordered for the guards to follow him, after all, backup is necessary almost wherever the dangerous man went. Especially when it came to the safety of his lover

🏔️ Once landed, the sight of four out of the seven members of your team being impaled on the elongated tongues of horrifying and demonic-appearing beasts caused the Emperor of the Universe's heart to start racing. You better not have been harmed!

🏔️ The male raised his hand and sent a large beam of energy soaring at the monster, causing it's tongue to come flying off of it's mouth. The smell from it's blood was rancid, but if smelling this meant that you would be safe, then so be it

🏔️ You were located a mere few feet away, hiding behind a large boulder structure by Frieza. And once he picked you up, he rushed back to the ship, his men and yours following as they sent many beams at the creatures as they attempted to follow suit

🏔️ Back on the ship, Frieza sat in his room as the doctor healed you up. While he would love to be there for his dearest, the sight of their beaten and bloody body was by-far the only thing keeping him away from the Cui-copy's work

🏔️ The sound of his door being knocked on made him stand and ready himself, putting on his cool and composed facial expression before opening the door, ready to scold and possibly punish the soldier for daring to interrupt the most powerful being in the ship. How he would do so was already pulsating through his mind

" What is it you want? I am clearly in the middle of business. "

" Wow, you're seeming extra nice today. Are you sad I was hurt by that behemoth of a beast? "

🏔️ A small crack of his voice was heard as Frieza opened his eyes to see you standing there with a highly-functional mechanical cast around your leg, a small amount of pre-obtained energy holding your leg up and behind you in a position as if you were kneeling on one side

" Y/N... Why aren't you healing in the medbay?! I was about to come visit you! "

" Uh-huh. C'mon, the doctor said I needed to fix up my other leg's walking anyways! " Sarcasm was highly detecatble in your tone, causing Frieza to be slightly annoyed. Why are you being so calm?!

" That doesn't matter- "

" Yeah, yeah. Anyways, you got any wine back there? "

" W-what?! By what I remember, taking in alcohol, no matter the kind, with medication could cause someone to... overdose, if I remember correctly. "

" Aw~ Are you still worried about me?~ "

" S-shut it! Just- get in here already... you're a pain. "

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»——————————- 　 Android 17　 ——————————-««

🐈‍⬛ This guy knew how dangerous this Tournament was, so why was he now just wondering why the enemy was being so tough on you, it was obvious that you were beaten, so why was he continuing?!

" Hey! He's going to far! "

" Y/N, hang in there! "

🐈‍⬛ Everyone's calls were only enraging your husband even farther as he fought against another Universe 5 fighter while you dealt with the other two dogs

🐈‍⬛ The yellow one, Lavender, has thrown so much of his poisonous energy at you that it was beginning to make your joints slow down, which alarmed the rest of your teammates. Hell, even Frieza was nervous at the sight- you had the amount of power that could level up to defeat him!

" Why you damned wolf! "

🐈‍⬛ Holding your hand up as you canceled out every sound around you, the slight movements of feet with fur and claws was the only thing you would allow through. This meant you would be able to both dodge and hit the remaining beast-men back with ease

" Take this! "

🐈‍⬛ Gripping his hand in yours, you could feel the poison rush through your body, but the feeling was numb to you, the amount of venom in your system seemingly muted out anymore seeping through your thick-skin

" Wait, what the hell?! "

🐈‍⬛ Android 17 smirked and jumped up before kicking the blue wolf, Bergamo, in your direction while you powered a whip of energy before wrapping Basil and Lavender up as you twirled them around and threw them away, grabbing Bergamo on the way as they soared back and off the edge of the field, resulting in a Universe 7 win

🐈‍⬛ 17 ran up to you and wrapped his arms around you before you were teleported back up to your teammates for a small intermission granted by Zeno upon Goku's request

" What were you thinking? "

" About the survival of our home, and our family. "

" And while I appreciate that, Y/N, you must be more careful with your limits. I don't need another Goku around. "

" Hey! "

🐈‍⬛ Hearing you chuckle as Whis laid his staff on your forehead before booping you and releasing your body of the poison's affects made your husband smile gently and hold you close as Universe 7's angel chanted with an 'all better now!'

" Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear? "

" Nope, you forgot a couple of things in that sentence there, mister. "

" Why you... alright. Please don't ever scared me like that again. I love you to much for that to happen. "

" That's better. "

🐈‍⬛ While you laid your foreheads upon one another's, the sound of Goku and Frieza gagging in the back caused you to laugh as 17 just sighed like a disappointed father

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»————————————- 　 Gohan　 ————————————-««

📚 Unlike his father, Gohan was primarily focused on his work and studies growing up. Putting his training behind for helping his family of his wife, Y/N, and his young daughter, Pan, prosper in life

📚 You on the other hand, adored to fight. As you were raised by your favorite person on Earth, who also just so happened to be a fellow descendant of the Three-Eyed People, Tien Shinhan

📚 As Pan grew older, you would help Piccolo and others train her, teaching her valuable lessons in minor training for her human-side while Piccolo handled her more alien side, which came from your husband

📚 Gohan knew that sometimes you would go out and about with his father's old friends in order to handle some ordeals, and with you being one of the strongest human fighters in their current time, you were practically required to attend

📚 As you kissed your daughter's forehead and gave your husband the tightest hug known to the half-blooded Saiyan, you gave him a final message until you returned a few days later

" If anything happens, I love you. "

📚 If anything happens? How far away were you going this time?

📚 While it was quite a hassle balancing his job and caring for Pan by himself, Gohan was grateful to have both his mother, Chi-Chi, his sensei, Piccolo, and his childhood friend, Videl, all there to help out once and a while

📚 He couldn't wait for when you would come home. Counting down the days with fun dinners for him and his daughter as the calendar was decorated with cute little stickers from Videl

" Hey Papa? Why does Mama look so beaten up? "

" She probably- wait she looks what?! "

" She has a big cut on the side of her face. It looks like it's bleeding a lot! "

📚 Gohan opened the front door of your home and picked you up quickly before rushing inside and running towards the bathroom to find your first-aid kit. Well, one of the many you had around the house

📚 Pan looked worried as you picked her up and laid her on your lap, brushing your hand through her hair as she sniffed and began to allow tears to bulge up in her eyes. You never liked to see your daughter in any kind of distress, especially emotionally. Physical scars can heal, but emotions are far harder to fix

" Mama, where did you get the cut...? "

" Let's just say... Mama got into a fight with some bad people and Mama kicked their butts. "

" Really? What were they like? Were they s... sai... "

" Saiyans? "

" Yeah! Were they Saiyans like Papa? "

📚 As Gohan walked back into the room with gauze being prepared in his hands, he saw just how comfortable Pan asked you questions while you avoided the topic of exactly who you fought and what happened on that planet miles away

" Y/N, can you please lift your headpiece up? "

📚 You did as your husband asked as you laid your thick head piece on the side, it was cracked from some force coming from your now deceased enemy, but it was nothing that Bulma couldn't fix!

📚 While Gohan bandaged up your head and arms, Pan asked both you and him questions of the days back when you both fought side-by-side. And whenever you mentioned him singing with the old dragon, Icarus, his face erupted in a mix of pink and red

📚 Why was your memory so damn good...

" Can I hear the song? "

" I don't think Piccolo would like to be reminded of that... again... "

" All the more reason to do it! "

[dotster001]

When You Escape Him, Staff

Summary: Yandere staff x gn!reader. He adopts a child that looks like the two of you. You run to give you both a chance at life. You never expected him to find you.

CW: yandere content, Stockholm syndrome, blackmailing, potentially ooc?, the void, implied previous injury,

A/N: It's finally finished! There are some spin off stories coming but they will not be weekly updates. I'll write them when I write them. Also, I know I said that I'd put out a poll for what series would get weekly updates, but I've gotten so many questions about Elder God, that I'm gonna do that one. Probably won't be Sunday's, but whenever I release the next part will start the cycle.

Heartslaybul Savannaclaw Octavinelle Scarabia Pomefiore Ignihyde Diasomnia Non NRC

Three years into your relationship, he had come home and placed a baby in your arms.

"They were left in a box, all alone. And, well, he looks like if the two of us had a child," he sheepishly stared at the ground. "I just, I just figured it must be a gift from the seven."

You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to tie himself to you through this boy. He looked just like him, and you were disgusted and scared.

Until he opened his eyes for the first time, and you found yourself staring into your own.

And you knew. You had to give this child the opportunity for a better life. A life without him.

In the end, your son did the opposite of what he had intended. And the first moment you could, the two of you had escaped.

To this day, you had no idea how you had escaped. But you had, and you'd been able to smuggle yourselves off the island and far away.

Your son had started to display signs of magical ability when he was three. You hoped it stayed a miniscule amount, considering you'd heard some people were just magic sensitive.

By the time he was eight, you realized you were not going to be lucky. By the time he turned twelve, you were burning the flyers that the dark mirror magically sent out. By sixteen, you and your son were full on panicking about the scouts that might come by to observe him, and the acceptance letter that would show up at the house.

It was a completely normal day. You'd gone to pick up your son from school, when his teacher excitedly came out to meet you.

“I have amazing news! A representative from NRC came today to test a few of our students!”

You froze.

“S/N was one of the one's they called, and he's been being tested for hours now! He's a shoe in! You must be so proud!”

You nodded rigidly, a stiff smile on your face.

She led you inside, and to one of the teacher conference rooms. Up to this point, you knew there was a chance it wasn't him. If it was anyone else, you could bargain with them.

The door opened, and your hopes were dashed.

“Ah! Welcome, welcome! I was just telling our precious chick that he has a place waiting for him among the students of our esteemed academy! He's almost as powerful as his papa! I couldn't be prouder!” At the last statement, Crowley brushed away an invisible tear.

“And I told him that I have no interest,” your son muttered angrily as he stared down at the table.

Crowley didn't react to what sounded like not the first refusal your son had given, and patted his lap excitedly.

As though everything was normal and you'd just go back to the nest.

“S/N,” you said coldly, calling him to your side. It wasn't like you were alone. If you and your son ran, shouting along the way, surely one of the teachers would hear you and get help. Your son stood to walk over to you.

It happened in seconds. His golden eyes flashed in mild irritation, and by the time you reacted he had already entered your space, and hoisted you over his shoulders.

“I consider myself a very magnanimous person, but you are pressing my patience.”

You shouted obscenities at him, trying to fight your way out of his grip, but to no avail.

“Stop squirming, or I will have to clip your wings-”

“Leave them alone!” Your son shot a fire spell at Crowley. A field around him blocked it, but he gazed at his son in parental pride.

“Just like his papa!”

“YOU'RE NOT MY PAPA!” He screamed, a blaze of fire exploding from around him.

It wasn't his fault he'd lost control. But you had a brief moment where you realized that without the field around Crowley, that would have killed you. As it was, the room was ablaze, and quickly growing out of control, causing your son to forget his anger, and panic.

Crowley sighed, and set you down. He summoned his staff, and quickly doused the fire. Then he turned to your son.

“I am a very generous man. I can pay for the damages done to the school. Which, judging by what I am seeing, is extensive. However, you both must come back to the nest.”

Your son just stared at him.

“If I don't pay for it, how do you think either of you is going to be able to pay this off? Especially not when word gets out that you attacked the Headmage of NRC. You will spend the rest of your life in debt that will continue to grow.”

“You're bluffing,” your son spat.

He definitely wasn't bluffing. You knew exactly what lengths he was willing to go to. You couldn't look him in the eye, opting to stare at the floor as you whispered,

“We'll come with you.”

“No!”

“We don't have a choice. Trust me, I know.”

“Aw, don't talk like that, treasure,” he said happily, scooping you back up and nuzzling his cheek against yours.

Your son looked at you with heart broken eyes. But there was nothing you could do. You'd always known what it looked like when he'd beaten you.

He'd let you leave…

You never wrapped your head around it.

He'd let you leave. Watched you walk out the door with your son. Hadn't said a word.

And he hadn't come after you. 

It had been four years since then. You'd been doing as well as a single parent could do.

Any accounts you had created and hid from him, your government paperwork, your social media accounts; all of it was gone. The second you stepped foot out of his mansion, he'd canceled and frozen anything and everything you had in your name. You had started from square one.

But you were alive. And so was your son. You had found a job, and had built a small life for the both of you.

But this most recent set of bills was going to upset the delicate balance.

You stared down at the statements, and sighed. You wanted to cry. You'd fought so hard. But it all amounted to nothing. The weight of the world was crushing you, and it was all you could do to keep yourself from letting it show to your son.

An unknown number appeared on your phone. You picked up. Probably a debt collector. Maybe you could come up with an excuse.

“Are you done playing pretend? You're not cut out to be a stray.”

You stiffened.

“How did you get this number?”

“You're not in a position to ask me questions. How does it feel to be all alone? To bite your master, then get beaten by a wild pack of wolves?”

You stared back down at the bills, biting your lip.

“Nothing to say?” You could hear the amusement in his tone. It disgusted you, but he was right. You weren't in a position to fight him.

“What do you want?” You spat.

“I want you to admit you need me. That you can't support yourself and the pup, and that I'm the only one who is able to properly take care of you.”

“What the fuck-”

“I want you to tell me that you understand that a dog is useless without a master to care for it.”

“Gah! I'm not saying anything like that!”

“Alright,” he spat, hanging up before you could say anything else.

You angrily slammed your phone against the table. 

“What's going on?” You heard your son's sleepy voice say. You turned over your shoulder, and saw him rubbing his eyes, staring at you sleepily. He was so small. So innocent. He deserved so much more.

You opened your arms, and he ran into them, snuggling against you.

“Baby, how would you feel if Daddy brought us home?”

“Daddy?”

“Yeah. We got separated, but I think he found us. Which means-”

“Daddy could take us home?”

You felt bile rise in your throat. Home. Home was stolen from you forever when a certain alchemy professor had decided you were his. But maybe home would be different for your boy. And you couldn't take that from him.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

You redialled the unknown number, half expecting him not to pick up. But he did, immediately.

You put it on speaker, and after a moment of silence, you heard, “Well?”

Your son was faster than you.

“Daddy, please come get us!”

Crewel’s breath hitched, and his voice was infinitely more tender when he spoke again.

“Of course, puppy. Daddy's coming to get you.”

Your son looked up at you with excited, warm eyes. Maybe this was for the best. It would be selfish of you to keep putting him through this. He had a father who would give him the stars in the sky if he so much as looked at them a certain way. Meanwhile, you could barely take care of yourself.

“We'll be waiting,” you said quietly.

You half expected him to go back to sounding angry and disappointed. Instead, he released a soft sigh, and said in a voice so kind that it brought tears to your eyes, “I've missed you, love.”

Sam's "friends" used to frighten you. They were the one's in charge of keeping you quiet in the back room while he worked. 

Over time, you'd grown to tolerate them. They were terrifying. But they left you alone for the most part.

The day Sam had placed your son in your arms was the first time they'd spoken to you. You'd been alone, staring at your own hollow eyes in the mirror, reflecting on how you had to get this child away from him, when a whispery voice had hissed in your ear.

“We can free you.”

You'd refused to trade your soul, but you'd given up ten years of your life span. Over the years, they would update you if you needed to move. They would tell you what he was up to. They would hide you from new “friends” who would try to find you. 

It was your son's 16th birthday. And something was wrong.

The "friend" who had offered you the deal in the first place was missing. They were always around, except for when Sam needed them. It was odd for them not to be there. 

And you, yourself, felt weird. You'd woken up to a tingle in the tips of your fingers, and a disco party in your chest.  You gotten up to wake up your son, then prepared him a birthday pancake. You placed a candle into it, and were about to light it, when it lit itself.

“Hello, friend,” you muttered. “Is something wrong? It's not like you to be gone for so long.”

You felt phantom fingers detangling a knot in your hair, and a voice hissed in your ear, “We serve more than just you.”

They sounded…oddly defensive. But you couldn't think about that now, because your son had just stumbled tiredly into the room.

“Aw, you shouldn't have,” he grinned when he saw the pancake. He leaned in and blew out the candle, before sitting down and digging in. You sat down in the seat next to him, digging into your own breakfast, when your “friend” released a hiss.

Suddenly, in the corner, a dark void opened up, and out stepped,

“Sam,” you whispered in terror, as you stood from your spot. You turned to your “friend” who was moving to join him.

“Hello, little imp. Long time no see,” he grinned at you, his eyes glowing bright lime as the room filled with fog from the void.

“Wait, I had a deal!” You shouted.

“We received a better offer,” your “friend”’s voice hissed with merciless glee. “Don't worry, we returned your ten years to you.”

“Damn, I wanted to see you for so long. But now that I see your face, I'm absolutely disgusted,” Sam spat bitterly.

The smoke wrapped around you like unbreakable ropes. You struggled against them, but they only grew tighter, quickly feeling suffocating.

He walked up to you, gripping your chin in his hand.

“I paid quite the price for you. And now I just want you to suffer like I did.”

“Wait-” your son cut in, seemingly finally able to break out of his shock.

This brought Sam's attention to him, his eyes filling with love and adoration.

“And there's my boy! Can you believe I spent years thinking a fate worse than death had befallen you?” Sam said sweetly.

“You're scaring me. Cut out whatever it is you're doing, and leave us alone!”

Sam's eyes flashed back to yours, a staff suddenly appearing in his hand.

“No. I made a deal after all.”

He stalked towards you, and you watched in horror as various shadow creatures restrained your son.

“I had to choose. You or my son.” The staff came up under your chin, pressing uncomfortably into your throat. “I used to worship you. And you gave me nothing,” he hissed. Then he smiled. “It wasn't that hard of a decision to make, really.”

His lips were pressed against yours, cutting off your air completely.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he breathed against you. He then shoved you, and you fell backwards into darkness, his hate filled glowing gaze the last thing you saw.

“Please, just, don't tell anyone about us. He's not interested in becoming a mage.”

It felt like you were pleading for your life. Because you were. Crowley had arrived at your son's school to scout students for the college. The second your son had gotten word, he'd called you, and you'd rushed to the school, prepared with a lie about a doctor's appointment you'd both forgotten. Crowley moved far too fast though, and had already found your son.

“Y/N. My employees' well being is of great importance to me!” 

“I'm sure he's fine,” your son groaned in the seat next to you. “I really don't want to be a mage. So scout someone else, and leave us alone.”

Your boy was a good one. But his downfall was his strong sense of justice. You had never intended to tell him the lengths Ashton had gone to keep you, but he'd been relentless. You hadn't told him everything, but the both of you were pretty certain he might do something bad if he ever met the man.

Crowley looked at you both in disappointment. You remembered that look. It brought you back to your Ramshackle days when you were asking him to install heat, and he'd made you feel like you were asking for a million dollars. But you weren't his student anymore. You weren't his slave. He had no control over you.

“It would be a great shame for someone of your abilities to waste them. And besides,” Crowley’s disappointed frown turned into a frightening grin. “Around this time of year, a certain physical education professor gets rather whiney, and makes it everyone's problem. Now, whose fault is that?” 

“He's a big kid. If he can't move on, that's his own fault. And if it's a problem, you can fire him,” you said bluntly, not going to feel guilted for what you'd done.

Crowley leveled a glare at you.

“I gave you a home. I gave you money. I gave you an expensive education, for free. I allowed you to keep your cat, and eventually your son. You owe me.” He snapped his fingers, and the mirror in the corner swirled to life. Suddenly, he was behind the both of you, yanking you from your seats, and shoving you through the mirror.

You both landed in a patch of grass, right behind a burly man in a memorable red sweatshirt. He hadn't noticed you yet. You pressed your finger to your lips, and pointed to the nearby woods. Your son nodded, and you both turned slowly.

Only to bump straight into Crowley.

“For Seven's sake, Ashton! Get it together!” Crowley snapped, causing the man of the hour to finally look over his shoulder.

His eyes widened, and he ran straight for you, wrapping you in a hug so tight that you thought your ribs might break. Again.

“Ashton,” you wheezed, feeling the familiar feeling of panic you always felt when he was involved. 

“You're so scrawny,” he muttered in your ear. You were always “too scrawny” to him. But of course it would be the first thing he'd say to you after so long of being apart. 

“I can't believe you survived out there,” he boomed loudly, holding you by the shoulders at arms length, looking you up and down with a jovial smile.

“Put them down!” Your son snapped, shaking you out of your fear momentarily. You looked over your shoulder to see him tied up in Crowley's “whips of love”.

Ashton’s eyes brightened even further.

“Ha ha! You look just like your old man! A few hundred pushups, and you'll be just as strong as I am!”

“Fuck you!” 

Ashton's eyes darkened, and turned back to you, reigniting your terror tenfold. His grip on your shoulders tightened painfully.

“What have you been saying about me, Y/N?”

You shivered in terror. You knew that look.

“I didn't-”

“You don't deserve our love, you monster!”

Ashton tossed you to the side like you were nothing. You winced. He never seemed fully aware of what his strength was capable of. He marched up to your son, snatching him from Crowley.

“Looks like we need to do some training, to whip ya into shape.”

He snatched you under his other arm, storming off in the direction of the school.

“Vargas! Your students!” Crowley called after him, but he was completely ignored.

You were thoroughly soaked from the rain outside. You stood before him, staring at the ground in shame as he silently sipped tea, and studied you. Eventually, he sighed, standing up and placing the baby in the bassinet in the corner of his spacious bedroom. He returned to his seat, and sighed again.

“To say I am disappointed would be an understatement,” Mozus said sternly. 

The door had been unlocked. In a moment of stupidity, you'd taken the chance to grab the baby and run. You hadn't realized that Trein had put up countless charms around the estate, including one that allowed the topiary knights to drag you back to him. If that wasn't enough, it was pouring. A mud puddle had been your undoing.

You dripped onto the floor, awaiting the speech and upcoming punishment.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” he snapped, and you quickly looked up. His face and demeanor were calm, but his eyes glinted in anger.

“I trained you to be a better spouse than this. What in the Seven's names were you thinking?”

He paused, seeming to wait and see what brilliant answer you would provide.

“I don't know,” you whispered.

“You don't know. Well, do you have any hints?”

You honestly didn't. Things had been peaceful recently. Up until the moment you ran out the door, you had convinced yourself you were finally able to be happy here. But seeing that unlocked door had stirred something in you. A final rebellion. A chance for your son, who shouldn't have to grow up under Trein's tyranny.

Now that you were under his scrutiny, however, all of that seemed to fade away. Instead, you were filled with embarrassment and guilt.

“I'm sorry,” you whimpered.

His glare softened into pure disappointment. Which, somehow, made you feel worse.

“Sorry won't clean the mud off my carpet,” he said tiredly. He looked you up and down, before pouring himself another cup of tea. 

“I know.”

“You know I can't leave this unpunished?”

“Yes.”

He looked at you, unreadable, before he nodded to the door.

“Go clean yourself up, then wait for me in your room while I decide on your punishment.”

You nodded, trudging towards the door. Then the baby started to softly cry. Instinctively, you turned the child. Trein's expression turned soft, more tender. 

“Go ahead,” he said, his voice full of love.

You picked up the baby, and made your way to your room.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

'Fake' Feelings

Zuko x Reader

Summary- In a pinch, you have to pretend to be in a relationship with Zuko. Little do you know it was never pretend for Zuko.

A/N- HAPPY BIRTHDAY @thethreeeyed-raven!!!!! This isn't my typical fandom as y'all know. I wrote this as a birthday gift to my best best best online friend. SHE'S AWESOME. Go check her fics out <3<3! CONTAINS A SINGLE BAD WORD >:)

Word Count- 2,468

"Mai, I already told you. I can't be with you!" Zuko was getting frustrated. While he did love Mai at one point, that was a long time ago. Zuko was now the Fire Lord, their relationship seemed like ages ago.

"And why not Zuko? We've been through this a hundred times. You always come running back, you're so pathetic. May as well cut the middle part and we can act like nothing happened." She stepped closer, pressing herself on his arm. "Like we always do..."

Zuko had finally realized how Mai controlled him. When he was weaker he was naive, now he knew what he wanted. Someone who never put him down, someone who never called him 'Pathetic.'

You.

He immediately thought of you. How you were so strong, but never put others down to feel powerful. How you always spoke your mind, but only out of the kindness you hid deep down.

Your walls were built up so high, but he knew who you were. He knew how beautiful you were.

"I can't be with you because I'm dating someone else." The words left his mouth faster than he could think.

This stopped Mai in her tracks. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, you're not the only one I am allowed to go out with. We've been broken up for awhile now." Zuko was no longer on the defense, but the attack.

"You do know that I am the only one who could love you. Who could love a traitor, a banished prince. Who else, huh?" Her arms were crossed, a smirk on her face. She knew she outwitted him.

Releasing his bit lip, Zuko exclaims your name.

Her face dropped. She knew exactly who you were. She was furious.

"We'll see about that..." With that, she left the room.

You were on your way to visit Zuko, one of your closest friends, for a 'friend reunion' Sokka had planned. You were of course excited to see him after so long. Though, the ride on Appa was miserable. About a hundred "are we there yet"s and "I'm hungry"s from Sokka.

The five of you- Sokka, Toph, Katara, and Aang made it safely to The Fire Nation shortly.

Upon landing, a man in red robes greeted everyone.

"The Fire Lord sends his deepest regards, as he could not see to you himself. You are instructed to follow me to your rooms." He had a stoic expression, but you guessed he greeted people all the time.

Oh well, Zuko must be very busy as a Fire Lord. You were sad, but couldn't blame him.

What you didn't know was that Zuko was pacing his room, definitely not busy. In reality, he cleared his schedule as much as possible for the week you were all visiting.

How was he going to tell you? He was deeply embarrassed, not to mention Mai might try and pull something with you. He knew not to underestimate her.

The thought of her trying to hurt you was enough to rack up the nerve to confess. He just needed a moment alone with you.

A grand dinner was prepared for the Avatars arrival, the rest of you reaped the rewards of being his friends.

"This is SOO good!" Sokka exclaimed, "Zuko sure has a way with food....." He slammed a fist on the table, before quickly lifting more food to his mouth,

"Sokka, you know he has chefs who make the food, right? Please tell me you know that..." You deadpanned, looking at him.

"Uh... Yeah! Yeah, definitely...." He looked down, that was until a new voice appeared.

"Sokka, did you really think I cooked all this?" Zuko walked to the seat at the head of the table. You noticed you were sat to his right.

It was a Fire Nation tradition that the Lady of the house would sit to the right of the Lord... You brushed the thought off quickly, writing it all off as a coincidence.

"W-well I don't know! You've been working ALL DAY!" Sokka squawked.

The dinner went on smoothly, well as smoothly a dinner can go with this group. You could feel the servants and servers rolling their eyes at all the unprofessional comments, jokes, and laughter.

You didn't care, you were just happy Zuko was able to be himself.

Hours later, when everyone was worn out and had their stomachs filled, they started to head to bed.

You were one of the last to leave, having been helping tidy up as much as you could.

You thanked and farewelled the servers, trying your best to remember where your room was.

The Palace was much bigger than you remembered. The halls upon halls blurred together. You were soon lost.

Every direction you turned looked the same, you started to breathe heavy.

You could already see it, 'cause of death, starvation in the Fire Nation Palace.' Or maybe dehydration would take you quicker?

A man passed by, you were saved! Though, the closer you got the bigger his scowl grew.

"Excuse me, I think I'm lost. Can you help me?" You were nervous asking, it was so 'common' for someone to get lost in a palace. You were sure your cheeks were red.

His face was dark, his eyes covered by his demeanor. For some reason he seemed annoyed at you.

"Sir?"

A hand rested on your shoulder from behind. It started you, putting you into a 'fight mode.'

Turning around swiftly calmed your nerves as quickly as they came. It was Zuko.

"Can I help you?" Zuko was talking to the strange man, who was no longer so 'big and bad.'

"No Fire Lord Zuko, my apologies." He barred his head in a bow and left.

You had a small smile on your lips, "Thanks, he was starting to scare me." While you were positive you could have taken the man, you were tired and didn't really feel like fighting.

"Of course, I can show you to your room." He held his arm out, you took it.

The gesture was friendly, you told yourself. Nothing more.

You must have been lost for awhile, as it took a few minutes to get to your room. The small talk exchanged was nice, but something told you Zuko was hiding something.

At your door, he stopped. "Zuko, do you want to come in? You seem restless."

"Actually, I do have something to tell you..." The tone of his voice scared you.

"Oh, then please sit." He joined you on the edge of your end. The door shut behind you two.

You pushed a strand of hair back, nervously sitting. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not really sure how to tell you this... I really am ashamed to have to ask you for a really big favor..." You had seen him on edge a lot, he was quite the stressor. Nothing like this, though.

"Zuko, anything. What do you need me to do?" You questioned.

He looked down at his hands, "You can tell me. I'm in no position to judge you, you know that."

"I uh," He rubbed the back of his neck, "I told Mai that we were dating so she would stop trying to get with me." He spit out so fast you almost missed what he said.

"Oh."

Well that's not what you thought he would say...

"That's not the worst part." He lowered his face to his hands, "The ball in four days, well I told her you were going with me... She's got Ty Lee lining up suitors for her. Trying to make me mad. Also she uh, she's probably told everyone now..."

"Oh." You were at a loss for words.

"I... I don't know... I'm sorry. This is stupid, at the ball I'll tell everyone what happened. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen! It just slipped out an-"

"Zuko."

"Yes?"

"What if you don't have to tell everyone?"

You hadn't looked at him since he started talking. Honestly, a night with Zuko at a ball? It sounded like a dream. Zuko was handsome, kind, generous, and you'd had a crush on him for months. You knew he wouldn't ever really date you... So you might as well seize the opportunity, right? What could go wrong!

The two of you decided it would be wise to not tell anyone else it was fake, as Sokka, Toph, and Aang had big mouths. They'd slip up sooner or later. As for Katara, she wouldn't have kept that big of a secret from Aang.

So, for the next few days you and Zuko spent every second together. At first, it was coming up with plans for the ball. It turned into getting more physically comfortable with each other. That eventually escalated to spilling each other's deepest secrets, ya know... just in case...

Even in four days, you found yourself going from a crush to madly in love. You found out his quirks, what made him tick, his hidden likes and dislikes. Not a second was spent apart.

The afternoon before the ball you were stressed. It had been easy up until the ball. You just had to be yourself around Zuko, now you had to pretend in front of hundreds...

Katara helped you pick out a beautiful red and black dress. To match Zuko's of course.

A big scene was planned out between the two of you, Zuko would introduce you to everyone in an announcement and you'd walk don't the grand starts arm in arm with him.

It was fun to imagine and talk about, but now the 'what ifs' were running wild.

You somehow made your way to Zuko's room, knocking hesitantly. He begrudgingly opened, but became excited when he saw you.

"Zuko, I'm terrified." He quickly guided you into his room.

"What happened?"

"What if I fall? What if no one likes me? It's a lot of steps it-" He cut you off.

"Hey, it's okay... We can throw everything out the window. Just saw the words."

You swallowed thick. "No, no just... Just promise you'll be there? For me?"

Your name was a whisper on his lips, "Ill always be here for you... Just imagines its only us up there... Just normal day."

You nodded, more relaxed knowing he'd be by your side through I tall. It also gave you a wicked feeling of comfort to know he was still willing to do whatever you preferred. He would have ended the lie immediately if you asked, but you wanted to be there for him as well. To make sure Mai would leave him alone.

The Palace was bustling with people, waiters, food, activities, and entertainment. It all came to an abrupt stop when Lord Zuko appeared.

It was comical, trumpets blared and all head turned.

"Fire Lord Zuko, accompanied by-" Your name seemed unreal on his lips. To be announced with a Fire Lord? You felt you didn't deserve it.

You slowly walked into view of everyone, whispers erupting. To be 'accompanied by' was essentially dating for Lords and Ladys.

All eyes were on you as you took Zuko's arm, walking down the steps. You felt light, your grip tightening on Zukos.

"Almost there, I'm right here." His words were all the comfort you needed.

Music resumed and the party goers continued their fun.

That was expect for one person. Mai. She marched up to you, her questioning eyes on guard. Watching her march over sparked a fury in you, the fire started and didn't stop until you spoke.

"Hello Mai. How can I help you? Is your father well, since he lost his job as Governor and all..." You passively aggressively asked, a mock frown on your face.

"What would you know about Governor dad's and all? You grew up poor." Damn, she got you there.

"I guess the difference in poor and rich is personality. Cause you don't have one..." You shrugged your shoulders at her, biting back a laugh.

"At least Zuko loved me for who I am, not who I was pretending to be." She remarked, not really knowing why Zuko loved her or you.

"Damn Mai, you must know a lot about pretending. Seeing as you're a two faced bitch. Should I go and tell Ty Lee you called her an 'easy bed'." A gasp left her lips in shock, how did you know she said that? Well, you wouldn't tell her, but a gossiping Fire Sage spilled the beans.

Zuko, who had been temporarily called away to exchange pleasantries with a Navy Captain, had returned.

"Mai, I see you've met my girlfriend." He said, snaking a hand around your waist. Chills were sent up your spine.

She gave a scoff, "It'll never last. You're only in it because he's the Fire Lord." She pointed to you, then him, "And you, you just seemed to pick up the next girl you saw laying around. Talk about a downgrade. When you get tired of her, i'll be waiting." She walked away.

"What is her problem!" You exclaimed, face hot with anger.

"Jealousy, I think." He said.

You turned to face him completely. "What for, she doesn't even seem to like you anymore?"

"Maybe cause you're prettier than her?" He said, not realizing his own words.

Your cheeks were now flushed for a different reason. You swiped your lips with your tongue before speaking, "Thank you..."

Hours of dancing, partying, and eating went by. Everyone bought the act easily, you and Zuko were naturals at dating. The fun died down, and many were starting to go back home.

Zuko walked you back to your room, hand in hand.

"Thank you. I really cannot thank you enough, just ask. Whatever you want is yours." Zuko said, still grasping your hands at your bedroom door.

"I don't need anything. This was really fun actually, I know you were just pretending... but i've had the best time the past five days."

"Pretend?" His face screwed up, like he was in denial.

You blinked a few times, own lip curling. "Well, I mean... You made it pretty clear this was all just an act. I-I am not hurt." You were, but wouldn't let him know.

"Words cannot express how genuine these days have been... Oh gosh, I haven't felt this free since I was a child." He pressed on, serious.

"Y-you mean, none of this has been fake to you?"

"Well, I know you signed up for 'fake'." He looked over you, face uncertain.

With a step forward you spoke, "This hasn't been fake for me either..."

"Really?" He pressed his chest to your slightly, hand wavering around your waist. "Because I don't think I could live if you're lying right now."

"Will this answer your questions?" You leaned up, closing the gap and kissing him.

A/N-Thank you for reading, I haven't fully watched ATLA In a little bit sorry if Zuko is OOC!! When it's not midnight and I'm not super tired, I will edit any mistakes!

[milfloveer]

Hello! Good morning, good afternoon, or good evening! I’d like to know if you accept fanfic suggestions. If so, I’d love to request a fanfic of Lilia Calderu x Female Reader, where the reader is drawing, and Lilia approaches to take a look and asks if she can see the drawing. However, while flipping through some pages, Lilia ends up finding several drawings of herself. It would be similar to that scene from Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, when Gwen picks up Miles’ sketchbook and sees several drawings of her. (I imagine Lilia’s reaction would be the cutest ever (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)).

Drawings of you

Pairing: Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

Prompt: (request)

Warnings: scars and history about them (reader has whip scars)

A/n: Hiiii!!! Thank you so much for the request!! Hope this is what you've asked for, please tell me what y'all think cause I think I've wandered a little 👉🏻👈🏻 Also I added some more plot hope it didn't ruin it tho.

As we finished the second trial, Alice's trial, and made sure Teen was alright we settled down and made a fire so we could rest for the night.

We sat by the fire and were currently sharing our battle scars, Lilia pointed out to her neck pulling her shirt aside making me shift on my seat "Check this out." we all reached a little closer to see better, my cheeks painted with a soft pink and then Jen asked what we were all thinking "What is that?" and Lilia, still showing it says "Vampire bite. Right before I knock out his other tooth." she says making all of us laugh.

Alice then turns to me "What about you, y/n? Do you have any battle scars?" she asks innocently, I couldn't hide my sudden face drop as my body tenses, my eyes fall to Rio cause she knows what my scars are about, her expression unreadable and then my eyes fall to Lilia's, her eyes curious about what I have to show and so I sigh "I do have them, yes. But they're really ugly and how I got them... Well, let's say it's not as funny as Lilia's." I say softly, preparing them to see my scars. I turn around, my back now facing them, and I lift my shirt, they gasp and an 'Oh gods' left Lilia's mouth.

When I turn around they all have a shocking and scared face, I look down at my intertwined hands as I could not bear their gazes directed at me "It all happened when I was in Salem, I was held captive by a powerful man... Not by power tho, but by money and other things, he was well known and respected by the people. So one day he found out I was a witch and how powerful I was, all because of a stupid mistake I've made." I said sighing in frustration memories of that haunting me "All those years he held me captive he made me do things for him, like cure people, read their fortune and if needed I would do some potions and cast some spells.... Curses even. If not or if I did it wrong he would whipp me over and over again until I had no skin left. It was that or burning in a stake." I tell as they all share a look "Dead almost caught me that time." I scoff taking a glance at Rio. Lilia shifts in her seat, her mouth opens to say something, but Agatha arrives and sits down next to Rio, so Lilia stays silent, but her eyes remain in my figure like she's trying to read me just like a book.

To take the tension out and to divert the attention from me I turn to Agatha "Agatha, do you have any battle scars?" I ask and she smirks pulling her sleeve up, Rio makes a snort knowing full well what she was going to show. Her scar is in the elbow "Knitting needle to the elbow." she says while showing it around as we all made a disgusted face "Ever heard of the daughters of liberty?" she asked and we all answered with 'no' while shaking our heads "Exactly." she says making all of us laugh.

And then, out of the blue, Rio says "I've got a scar." as Agatha quickly replies "No you don't." that makes me raise an eyebrow "Yes, I do." Rio reinforces taking a look at Agatha as she keeps explaining "A long time ago I loved someone. And I had to do something I did not wanna do... Even though it was my job. And it hurt them... She is my scar." she finishes and looks directly at Agatha, not even trying to hide who it was. Agatha then gets up saying she needs to stretch her legs and Rio follows her, leaving us four at the fire.

We all look at each other and shrug, I mean we all knew they had an history, it was clear as water, so we didn't bother. It's not like they're gonna tell us anyway.

I take a glance at the three witches "Y'all get some rest, I'll take the first watch." I tell them and they all nod, Jen and Alice got comfortable against the rock they were, Lilia did the same.

To pass time I conjured my sketchbook and pencil so I could draw something and by something I mean the elder wise witch sleeping a couple of feet in front of me. I couldn't take her out of my mind since the first day I saw her at Agatha's house, her curly hair, her curved nose, her soft looking lips, oh how I would love to kiss them, those dark irises I could drown in a matter of seconds, her angelic voice, the whole of her, I could not stop thinking about her and only her. And I couldn't stop drawing her since, my sketchbook was full of her images, profile, full body, different expressions, her hands, her necklace, I couldn't stop, I won't stop.

I now started to draw her sleeping figure, how her body was curled in as she lays on her side facing me, her hands next to her chest in a protective way. She was in a deep sleep as her now relaxed body only moved with her soft breathing. I lost myself in the lines drawing efficiently every detail of her, capturing her essence as she sleeps... But the pencil started to weigh too much and so did my eyelids, I didn't even realise when I fell asleep, sliding into a deep slumber myself.

The shaking of my body and a soft voice is what makes me aware of my sleeping state and so I jump awake "Whoa, calm down, darling, it's just me." Lilia whispers as the rest of the coven is still sleeping, I frown "What's wrong?" I ask confused, she smiles softly "Nothing, dear, I only wanted to put you in a more comfortable position as you were not looking rather comfortable in that one." she says chuckling lightly, she then looks next to me where my sketchbook fell and she reaches for it "Oh, No-" I say trying to stop her but she's quicker than me "I always wondered what you spend so much time drawing about." she says teasingly and opens the book "Oh-" she says as she flips through the pages.

My face turns red, red as a tomato, as a strawberry, as her lipstick "Lilia-" I breathe out, but she looks at me tenderly "These are amazing, darling. But why me?" she asks innocently and I am left with no words, mouth agape as staring embarrassed at her "Have you seen yourself?" I ask, my voice lower than a whisper. She chuckles and shakes her head "No need to be shy now, dear." and my only reaction is to hide my face behind my hands with embarrassment.

Lilia's soft hands grab mine and put them down, her face really close to mine "I really appreciate it." she says and I almost choke with the air on my throat as she leans in and gives me a tender kiss on my cheek. Well if I wasn't red before, now certainly I was, my heart was ready to jump out of my chest as my head was ready to explode "Now, try to rest, dear, I'll take the next watch." she says laughing softly as she backs up to her previous spot.

How am I gonna sleep after this?!

[bloodycassian]

Reborn - Reader x Azriel. AN - thank you anon for this great prompt!

Requested - I don't know if your requests are open but I wanted to throw something in just in case.

An Azriel x reader, where AZ and reader have never met before, reader has been tortured and experimented on by the court of nightmares ( Keir ) she could be a shadowsinger, and they're mates, when the reader is in the verge of death for refusing to work with Keir, AZ feels it and begins to grow hectic without knowing the reason,  everyone in the inner court is confused until elain comes out of nowhere and tells everyone that his mate is in danger. ( Vision )

I have this on the back of my mind since reading some of your amazing work and couldn't stop thinking about it.

No amount of masturbation, drinking, or sparring helps the agitation under Azriel’s skin. It’s a constant, burning, itching thing that’s like a fucking disease upon his being. 

Sleep is his only relief, but even then he’s plagued with pain and darkness. It reminds him too much of the dank basement he’d been forced into when he was young, so he stays up. He’s exhausted and brooding and quick to snap at anyone who questions him. He knows he’s being a dick but according to the five healers he’d seen, there was nothing wrong. 

Nothing wrong, just like how his shadows weren’t some kind of magic, according to them. 

He’d refused to believe in healers all that much since the explanation Madja had given him about his diseased pets. The writhing, tentacles of night were a ‘bodily mutation of the highest level, tainted with fae magic’. Tainted. The word felt right for what they were, but that didn’t mean it stung any less. 

“We’ll invade here, and be able to plant our…” There was a beat of silence in Amren’s quick words, then her voice cut through his busybodied task like a knife “Azriel, are you even listening?” 

Truthfully, he hadn’t been. He’d been consumed by the ache again, the broiling sickness beneath his skin that had every muscle flexed in tension. His mind had other battles to fight. 

“What does it matter? You’ll carry out your plan with or without me. Keep talking, make yourself feel important, Amren.” His ill-tempered response came quick and laced with venom. One glance towards the small not-quite-fae female and his mind gave a twinge of regret. 

A lick of her power radiated, filling the room with something vibrant and undeniable. Cassian sucked in a breath, and a word from Rhys had her firey gaze snapping to him instead. “Take your dog from the important business then, High Lord.” Her words were precise, hissed. 

Azriel straightened. The insult didn’t land as well as Amren had wanted, in part because he couldn’t care less, another because the fire under his skin was reaching a peak that he had no idea how he survived every time it came around. He glanced to Rhys, who gave him a nod. Good. Let him free of this cage. 

He flung open the balcony doors with his cursed gift and sprinted off the ledge, launching himself into the summer air. 

+

Rats nibbled at your toes when you slept, scurrying away before you could catch them. Your senses weren’t even close to what they had been months ago. Before, you’d been able to catch at least two a week for extra sustenance. 

You told yourself that they’d learned, that they’d gotten quicker at their biting and fleeing. Truthfully, you could feel your strength waning every day. 

Living was no longer hope, and more of an inconvenience. 

But it was an inconvenience to Kier as well. And that meant you’d keep on living out of spite. 

The next female would appreciate it. 

“Arms up, legs together.” The order came with unnatural casualness that you’d grown used to. If you didn’t follow the orders, you were beaten until you either complied or were unconscious, so complying was really the only option. Especially when you were attempting to stay alive for as long as you could. 

It’s for the next girl. You chanted to yourself when the keeper made the injection. It stung like hundreds of bees attacking the same place, but the pain was familiar. A friend you welcomed before everything went sideways and the nausea rolled in. 

The drug Kier’s men gave was like none you’d experienced outside this cell. An incredible high, with a disastrous low. 

You convulsed on the floor moments later, your body still barely able to take the amount they dosed you with. You’d seen the liquid inside the damn thing grow each week, they were marking your progress with every one of them. So, with each dosing you made sure to put on some dramatics for them. 

The clawing at the throat was false, the sound of your screams only half-forced. The real, unforced reaction though, was always the shade of pallor your skin turned after every injection. The darkness that radiated from you like a bubble, the pain made physical. 

It hovered over your skin like an aura, tendrils of it washing over your forehead when the sweating started. It always started like this, for the first few hours - or possibly minutes, you weren’t sure once you were lost to the pain - they’d observe, and sometimes Kier himself would join, looking like a disappointed mother. Then, once the shaking subsided, and you were able to breathe normally, they’d release a rabbit into your cell. 

The same rabbit almost every damn time. After the first two weeks, you’d grabbed the first one and snapped it’s neck, hoping that Kier would be happy with the accomplishment and you’d earn something. You’d felt awful as it died in your hands, but the pain… if it stopped the pain, you’d kill anything. 

But time after time, they’d send in another rabbit, and though you begged for some kind of explanation of what they wished with the damn thing, they’d only observe. After a few hours of investigating, it’d eventually be removed and you’d wake up alone again.

Kier did not make an appearance today, and after your shaking stopped, neither did a rabbit.

“Where’s dinner?” You croaked, the tears stinging small cuts on your cheeks. Your friend never laughed or spoke, hardly even moved when he was in the vicinity of your cell. It was odd, even for a freak who enjoyed drugging and torturing others.

The male only stared, writing in his little notebook. He could at least humor you and tell you what he was so keenly logging. Some friend.

He opened the door, but instead of the rabbit jumping inside, he stepped forward, past the barrier and wards keeping you from breaking through. Your breathing halted. 

“Your reluctance to learn your gifts has given us no other option.”

+

“Did you lose a fight?” 

Nesta’s words normally bounced and slid right off Azriel, but with how volatile he was feeling, it took all his restraint not to snarl at her.

“Come on Az, where’s that quick wit?” She chided, crossing her legs at the knee beside her sister. 

His eyes drifted to Elain, the warm blush of her cheeks. Her lavender nightshirt made her seem so much more vulnerable than she was. He knew just how lethal the female could be, and admired her for it. His eyes drifted to the soft hair and round features that he’d once dreamt of. How foolish he’d been, how full of hope and bitterness. Now here he was, merely a ghost. A shell for pain to be housed in and nothing more. 

And here he stared at a garden of hope and light. The female who’d haunted his dreams for years. The opposite of the steel bitch that sat beside her. 

A pang of guilt pinched at him. “You’re ridiculous.” Was all he could muster at her. Nesta was trying to help, in her own way, he supposed. She was testing his limits and temper, even while balancing comforting words and attempting to heal her little sister’s mental wounds. Not to mention navigating the strange, untrained gift of Elain’s.

It wasn’t often that Azriel came to the house of wind proper. When he did, he usually confined himself to the dining area and the war room, where the formal dinners and meetings were held. He hadn’t walked the halls into the large internal library in a long, long while. No wonder they both had turned their chairs to face him when he’d cracked the door to find them both here. 

The large windows seemed crowded with the amount of books that surrounded them. The only source of light, aside from the twinkling magic fueled ones above. The room had always made Azriel feel claustrophobic, and now it set him on edge in a way different than it had before. 

Especially when Elain’s eyes bored into his own. His skin felt like it was shifting, pulling and pushing from just beneath. He was beginning to wonder if the healers had somehow missed a parasite of some kind. Something new perhaps, something they’d never seen before.

Elain’s eyes widened, her cheeks going from the pink blush to sickly pale in an instant. Her expression was unfocused, hazy - as if she were drunk. Azriel suddenly felt like he was intruding, like seeing her so vulnerable was something reserved for only those close to her. 

Nesta placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed her sister’s back comfortingly. It was about as tender as Azriel had ever seen her, even with Cassian. He watched the hands that rubbed the Seer, recalling the intense desire he’d once felt for her. Embarrassment coated his cheeks, distracting him from the physical pain for a moment.

He’d wanted to be that support for her, once. Nesta’s hand seemed to grow in his vision, the embroidered collar of Elain’s nightshirt with it. He blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. The blackness around his eyes did not recede though. His bones ached, and his headache stabbed at him like a branding iron. He rubbed his temple, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“She needs help.” Elain gasped, coughing on a breath. Azriel wavered on his heels, something hard hitting his back, crushing his wings. 

He could barely hear the high strung sound of Elain’s voice. “She needs help, Azriel!”

+

He tore though the court, dragging Kier kicking and frothing with him. He’d received a few severe wounds from the cruel male, but nothing that a few patches of his siphons couldn’t hold together. 

The gushing stab wounds could wait. He had something far more important to tend to.

“You’re a bastard, a low-born inconsequential bastard, Shadowsinger.” Kier coughed as Azriel dragged his broken body with him. The crowd pushed and writhed around them, but his outstretched dagger kept any of the patrons from advancing. Several dark looks, hisses of death closed in around him, but he plowed through them all, working his way to the catacombs behind the stone chair that served as Rhys’s dark throne. 

“I may be a bastard-” Azriel grunted through his pain, now more fevored and intense than before. It was a wonder he’d even been able to make it here, but it did explain his sloppy handling of Kier once he’d found the male. 

“But at least I didn’t sell a daughter off as stock.” He tossed the would-be-king to the locked door of the catacombs, a part of him enjoyed the thunk his head made against the stone floor, even through the intense agony that ripped through him. 

This was not the place to show weakness. If he let his shadows drop, let the air of anything but a cold hearted killer go for even a moment he’d be trampled by the crowd. 

Kier rose slowly, muttering curses while he pulled out a key and slid the door to the side. He sketched a bow, waving Azriel in. Spit landed at Azriels feet as he crossed the threshold, and he hesitated in his step. A hiss rang out behind him, shuffling feet a song as the crowd quickly scooted back. He held his stance there for a moment, collecting the wrath that built in him. It writhed and twisted in his mind, his guts, his teeth throbbing with the urge to tare out Kier’s throat. 

The blistering heat flared again, this time in his jaw and he moved down the hall, towards the cells that an unfortunate assistant to Kier had described. 

He’d made their death quick, painless. 

+

You couldn’t scream, could hardly breathe with the weight that seemed to be growing in your chest. 

Not weight exactly, more like pressure. Internal pressure, like there was lava built up inside you with nowhere to go. And every rattling breath seemed to give it more life. You wheezed, weak with the exhaustion of fighting it. 

Your friend had given you three more of the injections, and promptly left when you began struggling against the binds at your hands and feet. One of them had ripped, you only knew because that was the hand that you’d used to claw at your chest with. 

The blood made going any further too slippery and exhausting.

There were far away sounds, but it all seemed too strange, so disjointed to be real. Screams and sharp clangs of metal, breaking glass and thudding. 

Your eyes slipped closed, and relief washed over you. The pressure eased, and the squeaky hinges of the door opened. Had death finally come? Was this the end of your cycle, and now they were bringing in a new victim to Kier’s experiments? 

There wasn’t much of a goodbye to the world, though. As sad as it was to not be able to see your family again, you were just grateful that the pain was receding. That finally there’d be no injections, no innocent rabbit and certainly no Kier around. 

The sounds were strange, a choking, strangled sound like the first time you’d killed the rabbit. Your eyes cracked open almost involuntarily to see what had happened. 

Outside your cell in a glow of blue light was a winged male, his hand wrist deep inside your friend’s chest. 

+

Blood is hotter than most people think it is. Azriel takes joy in it though, when it’s the blood of the truly vile ones. The male with the syringes and log book reeked of something spiced and foreign, something Azriel’d never encountered before. He would have asked, would have talked to the male if he’d not pulled a knife and threatened to ‘kill her’ as he backed away. 

There were no thoughts after that. And as he fell to the floor, Azriel reveled in the male’s labored breathing. Relief and heat flooded him, prickling him with a soaring joy he’d thought abandoned him long ago. He could laugh, if it weren’t for the absurdity of how it sounded to laugh at this moment.

 He plucked the book from his hands and shoved it into his belt behind him, his chest thrumming with joy.

He’d never been so filled with glee before, so overwhelmed with it after killing… Had he become broken in a sick way? Was he no better than the male he’d just killed? He looked to his hand, twisting it in the low light of his siphons. 

A wet, weak cough echoed off the walls and he spun, knife ready. 

Then the blade was on the floor as he rushed to the bars of the cell door, ripping it free of the rusted hinges. 

The female was gaunt, and frail. Yet his chest sang and though she looked moments from death, he couldn’t imagine more beauty. 

She clutched her chest, the blood there crusted and dry. “Thanks.” She croaked, voice barely a whisper. Shadows mounted around him, enclosing them in complete black. He would have thought he was winnowing if it weren't for the sorry excuse for a bed that stayed beneath her.

Azriel’s lips were moving, but he couldn’t tell what he was saying, even to his own ears. His mind, his body was a rushing river of every emotion at once, all cascading through his mind, to his chest and thrumming in his blood. Her eyes went wide and wild, searching his for a moment. His heart thundered in his ears.

What had his life been until now? Why was this moment such a climax to him so suddenly? All of it, the pain the agony, the stark moments of joy against it all - the brief moments of shared happiness that made it all worth it tore through his body like a flash floor. 

Tears pricked his eyes, and it was a curious thing to see them fall onto her neck and wash away the blood there. 

Then, a wet sigh from her lips, and her eyes stopped searching his. The rush of joy and sense of sanctuary ceased. His blood went quiet in his ears, and the room felt suddenly cold. The room silent around him, not even his shadows dared whisper.

His fingers hesitated over her cheek. When her next breath did not come, he shook her gently. Her eyes remained, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

This was truly a tomb now. 

“No…” He heard his own words that time. The word clattered through the cell like a bell tolling, echoing.

“Take her back.” A shadow hissed over his ear, caressing. 

He shook her again, the tears boiling over now, panic gripping him. 

“We know how.” another said. This voice was different, the same whispered tone and suggestion, but this was not one of his pets. He sent his own shadows skittering away, and a group of them stayed, unbound to him and unmoving from the cell. His heart skipped, fear upon fear pulling him into the icy abyss of despair. 

His own shadows returned, a broken syringe floating to him on their behest. They mingled with the others, reveling and dancing together though Azriel felt that he was slowly sinking.

“What am I supposed to do with this?!” He shouted at them, at nothing. He had truly lost his mind, hadn’t he?

“Save her.” The strange shadows told him. Just like Elain had said, overtaken by her visions.

 A tendril of the foreign shadow wrapped around his hand, locking the glass pieces there and slicing into his palm. The needle aimed directly to her chest, between the ribs, only a few inches from the heart. 

And what did he have to lose? The silence that surrounded him now was almost worse than the pain had been. Wouldn't pain at least be better than complete nothingness? To feel completely blank and unwritten as a being?

With a breath, and a part of his siphon’s power to support the broken syringe, he pushed into her skin. His own blood dribbled down the sides, mixing with hers. Through and through - until he knew that he’d met the same depth of a killing blow to an opponent’s heart. 

+

“Side, block, strike.” Cassian’s orders came out in demanding, practiced tones. Each step, each swipe of your blade met with one of Azriel’s shadows as a shield. 

His were still much, much stronger than yours, even after months of practice with them. Even with him showing you very intimately just how much they were capable of. Your cheeks blushed at the reminder of that. 

“No distractions, keep that shadow talk in the bedroom, Az.” Cassian scolded.

A smirk played at your mate’s face, and he hit you with a surprise swipe at your feet, left unprotected by your own shadows. 

You fell on your ass, cursing. 

Azriel offered a hand, panting at the exertion the sparring had taken. You were proud of that, at least. 

The first six months of training had been dedicated to building stamina, gaining back weight and muscle while balancing training your shadows to obey you. Six months ago, being able to spar with your mate had seemed like a far off dream that you’d never be capable of doing. 

But with his training, and Cassian’s encouragement, you were almost able to take him on stride for stride. Almost. 

So, you took his hand and pulled him towards you for a kiss. Then knocked his knees out from behind with a wave of your own shadows.

You smirked, and offered him a hand while Cassian boomed with laughter.

He allowed you to help him up, but cleaned in close, pecking a kiss on your cheek. 

“You’ll pay for that later.” He said in an intimate tone. A lick of his shadow wrapped around your thigh, snaking upwards. 

“Promise?” Your eyes sparkled at him, and the pain all those months ago had been worth it for this. 

[megalony]

Get My Husband

This is an Eddie Diaz request, I hope you all will like it I'm happy with how it turned out. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and thank you all for the requests I'm trying to work my way through them.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts

911 Masterlist

Summary: While Eddie is out on shift during a terrible storm, (Y/n) goes into labour and she has to wait, cut off and alone until she can get a signal to call for help.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Raising her hand to her lips, (Y/n) bit down on her thumb nail as her arms crossed over her expanded stomach. Her elbows pressed into her waist and she tilted her head up as she took a step closer to the window.

All day, it had looked like the middle of the night. No trace of sunshine, no speck of light casting down the street. Just bleak, varying shades of grey and black with the occasional hint of blue smeared across the dark sky. Cars blurred past, lights on full beam to shine through the blackness, although there weren't many cars out in this weather.

(Y/n) could hear the forecast blaring from the tv and it was telling people to stay inside unless they urgently had to leave the house. People were advised not to drive in this weather, buses were being delayed and stopped. Emergency services were stretching thin from the amount of accidents being called in.

God, (Y/n) was thankful she wasn't at work now.

From the moment the pregnancy test turned up positive, (Y/n) had been put on restricted duties at the station.

They had to assess each call that came in to determine whether she was allowed to go out on the call or not. She was reduced to a spare, helping hand as a medic. She would go in and help if they were out on little calls such as someone having a fall or a seizure or needing a trip to the hospital.

Fires, collapsing buildings and other high level call outs meant (Y/n) hung back at the station and tidied up, cleaned, re-organised and cooked. Once she hit six and a half months, she couldn't leave the station and at seven months, she was off on maternity leave.

(Y/n) didn't want to be stuck at home. She wanted to be out on calls with her team. Her husband and brother were out there each day and she was waiting around at home, desperate for the baby to arrive now so she had someone else to look after and something to focus on. But it meant there was always someone around to watch and look after Chris. He was pleasantly thrilled at having one parent at home at all times.

She was relieved not to be out in this weather though. (Y/n) didn't dare think about how many car crashes, floods, slips, trips and falls the team were going to be called to for the next two days.

"You okay mi amor?"

A smile tugged at (Y/n)'s lips when she felt a set of familiar arms curve around her waist and a tense chest press up against her back. She shivered and squirmed in his grip when Eddie's cold hands slipped beneath her shirt and pressed against her stomach making her jump.

"We're fine,"

Eddie pressed his lips to the side of her head, grinning into her skin while his eyes darted around the living room.

He quite liked how cosy the house felt with the lamps on and the candles (Y/n) had lit earlier. There were over ten candles spread around the living room, dotted in front of the tv, on the coffee table and along the shelves on the wall. If they experienced a power cut today at least they would be alright and not basked in darkness.

"I'm not looking forward to working this afternoon," Eddie mumbled the words against the side of her head while he smoothed his hands along her lower abdomen. His thumb brushed up and down her skin while his fingertips pressed down a little harder into her stomach to feel the sudden onset of kicking against his hand.

"You will be careful, won't you?" (Y/n) leaned her head to the left, nuzzling into his touch while she lowered her arms to clamp her hands down on his wrists.

"Do I look as reckless as your brother?" He tilted his head down a little more to press a sloppy kiss against (Y/n)'s cheek, grinning into her skin when she rolled her eyes.

It wasn't Eddie she had to worry about. Evan was the one who always acted before he could think things through and although he did it with the best intentions, it wasn't always the right thing to do. Evan was a people pleaser and tended to put himself in harms way to help people when he didn't always have to.

Eddie was calm, rational and careful, much like Bobby. (Y/n) had more reason to worry about her brother in this weather than her husband.

"I'm serious. I don't want a call from Bobby saying you've had some kind of accident-"

"Stop worrying, mi amor. I'll be careful, I promise. Twenty four hours and my work will be done for a month, just you, me and the boys." Eddie kept one arm around her waist while he moved his other hand to cup her jaw. His thumb brushed across her chin as he tilted her head up so he could peck her lips.

This was his last shift and he was clearly going to go out with a bang on a tiresome, drastic shift.

After this shift, Eddie would officially be off on leave because (Y/n) had her due date in two weeks. Eddie needed to be off so he could be there when their baby boy was born. He had been with Shannon when she gave birth to Chris and he wasn't about to miss the birth of his second son. They would have a week, maybe two if they were lucky to relax and get things ready, then their boy would be born and they would have two weeks at home together before Eddie would have to start back at work again.

(Y/n) had a desireable urge to add 'and Buck' onto the end of Eddie's sentence just to watch the way he would roll his eyes and grimace. They hadn't voiced it yet, but both of them knew exactly what Evan was going to be like once (Y/n) had the baby.

Her big brother was going to be round their house even more than he already was now. He would be stealing both their boys away from them, waking the baby up just so he could coo and soothe him back to sleep.

Evan was going to be a menace.

And she didn't dare think what Maddie was going to be like. She was also going to be round to try and snatch some babysitting duties. Her and Evan seemed to have been competing this year to see who could take Chris out more and be his favourite.

"Dad! Yucky."

A grin broke out on Chris's face as he raised his hands to cover his eyes while he moved and flopped down on the sofa.

Eddie brushed his thumb across (Y/n)'s jaw when she leaned forward to tuck her face into his neck. He could feel her smiling into his neck as she pressed a tender kiss there. His arm tightened around her waist and he turned to look over his shoulder, arching a brow as he looked over at Chris.

"Bossy," He muttered with a grin but when he twisted his wrist to check his watch, he clicked his tongue and sighed. "I gotta go. Right, if you need me call me."

(Y/n) nodded. She knew the drill. She knew how busy Eddie was going to be today and the chances were he wasn't going to be able to answer his phone to her even if she did call or text him for anything. But he had some leniency. No one was going to judge or tell him off if, when he got a moment to spare, he checked his phone. His wife was eight months pregnant, he needed his phone on him for emergencies.

And Eddie wanted (Y/n) to know she could message or ring him for anything, he didn't want her sitting and panicking or wallowing on her own. She worked at the station too so she knew how to get hold of him during an emergency.

"I love you."

Her lips curved up into a smile and she reached up to cup Eddie's face in her hands, grinning when she tugged him down for another kiss.

His hands squeezed her hips and he smiled into the kiss, nipping at her lower lip before he eventually pulled back. Eddie leaned down so he could kiss the top of her stomach, whispering a quiet 'be good' because he knew their boy had been moving a lot lately.

"Come here bud," Moving towards the sofa, Eddie leaned down and wrapped his arms around Chris. "Love you, be good for your mum. I'll see you both tomorrow night."

One more day. One more shift, then home for a month.

***

Reaching her hand down, (Y/n) slowly dragged her fingers through Chris's hair, de-tangling the few knots he had in his curls. Her lips formed into a soft smile and she leaned her head back on the sofa, pushing back to click her spine into place.

She tried not to move round too much and disturb Chris, he was nicely settled tucked up into her side. He had his head on her upper chest and an arm draped over her stomach. He had been thrilled at the idea of a baby sibling until he realised it meant (Y/n) would have an expanded stomach. He could no longer properly hug the person he had come to call his mum. The baby was now in the way.

Chris had his knees pulled up on the sofa beneath a blanket and he was almost asleep. It was a Friday night so he could stay up late and watch movies with (Y/n). It was a good coincidence that this storm was happening tonight.

He wasn't keen on storms, little noises always kept Chris awake and right now, the wind was howling and clattering against the windows. The rain was pouring down so fast it felt like they were in a boat in the middle of an ocean storm. And thunder clapped through the air every now and then.

When her stomach twinged, (Y/n) shimmied around and scraped her heels against the coffee table she had propped her ankles up on.

A wince pulled at (Y/n)'s face and distorted her lips when the baby moved and sent a pang jolting down her spine. Why did her baby boy have to wake up now when it was time to sleep?

At this rate, once Chris was tucked up in bed, (Y/n) would be laid in the bath for an hour or so. She wasn't getting very comfy at night now, every time she finally felt like she was about to fall asleep, the baby woke up with glee and (Y/n) found herself awake and angry.

Two nights ago she had been awake until four in the morning and Eddie woke up to her sat on the end of the bed, crying that she hadn't slept for more than an hour at a time for three days. Eddie had run the bath and they spent almost two hours laid in the bath because that was the only place their baby boy seemed to settle.

(Y/n) lifted her head up off the sofa, jolting forward when the tv suddenly turned itself off. She thought for a moment that it had just timed itself out and shut down as it had been on for a few hours now. But when she looked to the right and realised the table lamp near the window had also suddenly gone off, her heart sank.

"No… oh no."

The storm had taken out the electrics.

"Baby, I think it's time for bed." She moved her hand down from Chris's arm to brush her fingers up and down his arm to try and wake him up as he was almost falling asleep.

"Can I stay with you?" When he tilted his head up and grinned at her in that tired yet cheeky way, (Y/n) couldn't exactly say no. She didn't sleep well when Eddie worked the nights and Chris didn't like sleeping during storms. Something told (Y/n) she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight so Chris could stay in her and Eddie's bed if he wanted.

"Sure, baby… go get ready then."

When Chris tiredly shuffled off the sofa and headed down the hall, (Y/n) gripped the edge of the sofa to give herself some momentum to get up. She had gotten far too used to Eddie pulling and giving her pushes to get to her feet.

She could feel an ache burning in her lower back when she tried to straighten up, but it was the twinge in her abdomen that made her groan.

Her hand stayed on her stomach as she rounded the sofa and shuffled towards the hallway.

A gasp burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and her hand clutched her abdomen as her body tilted to the left to lean against the wall for support. Her head snapped down to look at her legs and fear bubbled up in the back of her throat and swelled in her lungs.

Her water broke.

She was going into labour. Early. Eddie wasn't home. There was a storm raging outside that had just taken out the power. She was going to have to call the emergency line to get through to her family.

"Mum! Finished."

"O-okay," Rolling her lips together, (Y/n) gritted her teeth and slowly walked down the hall. She would have to put Chris to bed and make sure he was settled before she tried to call anyone.

She followed him when he tiredly wandered out the bathroom and made his way to her and Eddie's room. She couldn't have been more thankful that Chris was tired tonight. On school nights Chris usually wanted a story before he went to bed and if he was very unsettled, he had a minimum of three stories to get him calm and ready to sleep.

Not tonight. He had stayed up late to watch tv and tired himself out, he wouldn't want a story tonight.

"Mum, light's not working." He bashed his hand against the light switch a few times until (Y/n) gently held his hand to make him stop.

"The power's out, baby. Come on, into bed." He wouldn't have noticed in the bathroom, they had an emergency battery light above the mirror.

Chris moved towards the bed while (Y/n) closed the curtains and turned on her reading lamp which was battery operated. When a pain tore through her stomach, she leaned forward and planted her hands down on the mattress, arching her back out to try and relieve the tension.

A little groan slipped past her lips between deep breaths and she switched her weight from foot to foot.

"Shall I l-leave the light on for you?" Her reading lamp gave off a soft orange glow which might comfort Chris because now, (Y/n) couldn't lay in bed and read or watch tv with him while he slept. She was going to have to confine herself to the living room so she didn't scare or unsettle him with her contractions. The light would settle him if the storm became too loud.

He nodded, smiling despite the fact that he couldn't keep his eyes open for long. He snuffled down in the middle of the bed, leaning more on Eddie's pillow because he knew it was a feathered pillow like his.

"I'll be in soon. Goodnight baby, love you."

Reaching across, (Y/n) swiped his glasses from around his neck and put them on the side table before she kissed his temple. She managed a smile when he kissed her cheek and whispered 'love you' before he snuggled down.

Pain radiated throughout her lower back when she shuffled over to the chest of drawers near the window. Her hand curled into a fist around a pair of Eddie's pyjama shorts and she leaned forward like her stomach was weighing her down to the floor as she shuffled out the room.

"Fuck." Tears welled in her eyes and her knees started to wobble as she hobbled across into the bathroom. "Why are you doing this to me now?" She muttered, pain etched into her wobbling voice as she glared daggers into her stomach and shimmied out of her pyjama bottoms and underwear. She kicked them near the bath and tossed her shirt along in the pile before she doubled over.

It took a lot of strain and effort to drag Eddie's shorts up her trembling legs and sit them just beneath her bump. Shorts and a bra was going to have to do for now.

Both her hands moved to her waist and she closed her eyes rubbing in deep, slow motions back and forth over her stomach like Eddie did when he was home. His touch was a natural remedy, he always calmed her down.

When the pain subsided, (Y/n) took it as her chance to move as fast as she could and hobble back down the hall towards the living room. It was a good job she had lit all the candles early in the afternoon or else she wouldn't of had the energy to raid around to find and light them all.

Her phone was exactly where she left it on the arm of the sofa and it made her lips twitch in relief.

"No… no please! Don't do this to me!"

A strangled cry fought against her lips that she snapped closed so Chris wouldn't hear her. Why didn't she have any signal? Not even one bar. How was she supposed to call for help with no signal? She only had twenty percent battery left and there was no power to charge her phone.

Her trembling hands clicked on Eddie's contact and she typed a message. With no signal it wouldn't send, but the moment her signal came back, the message would send through to Eddie. Whether that be in a few minutes or maybe an hour, she still needed him to find out.

My water broke, baby's coming! Now!

With that done, (Y/n) started to pray as she tried the emergency line. Shouldn't it work with no signal? What was the point if in an emergency with no signal, no one could call the emergency line? It didn't work.

Her broken sob squeaked past her lips and (Y/n) slumped her chest forward onto the back of the sofa. Her arms flopped forward, her nails scratching into the cushion as her bum arched out and her knees locked in place.

She was going to have to wait until the storm started to lessen and see if she could find some more signal somewhere else around the house in a little while. She had to be able to call for help somehow.

Chris was in bed, it was past eight o'clock at night and there was no way (Y/n) could drive out in this storm, in this state.

She had to be able to call for help. Somehow. Soon.

***

Agony tore through (Y/n) in waves like the ocean rolling across the sand. Burning her stomach, lighting a fire up her back, tearing each muscle apart as slowly and horrendously as possible.

When another contraction hit, (Y/n) waved a shaking hand out and found the tea towel she had confiscated earlier. She hastily rolled it up and pressed it between her lips, sinking her teeth down so hard her jaw started to tingle and the pain burst up into her ears.

Her hands gripped the arms of the chair she was crouched down in front of. Her knees had gone numb from pushing down into the laminate floor, her lower back felt like it had been broken and disconnected from the rest of her body. And her thighs were burning along with her lower stomach.

Tears drenched her already sodden face that was laced with salt water and sweat and made the loose hairs around her ears stick to her cheeks and forehead. Her body was trembling and going through a cold sweat that contradicted the fever she knew she was burning.

A horrid scream gurgled at the back of her throat and became morphed into the towel stuffed into her mouth to muffle her sounds. She couldn't risk waking Chris up and having him panic about the situation.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) meshed her forehead into the seat cushion and smothered herself until spots danced behind her eyelids and her head started to fill with air. She could feel her hands losing their grip on the arm rests and she waved forward and let her body flop against the lower part of the chair, sending a different kind of pain pulsing into her stomach.

She wanted Eddie. Where was he?

Why couldn't she get any signal? Why wasn't this storm relenting?

Couldn't their baby have held off for twenty four hours? One measly, little day would have made all the difference. Eddie would have been home with her if this happened at the same time tomorrow night. He would have been by her side, there would have been no raging storm outside and no risk of (Y/n) giving birth alone and Eddie being stuck out on a call somewhere else. One day wasn't too much to ask.

When the contraction subsided, (Y/n) lifted her head and slumped her cheek against her arm.

Deep, wheezing breaths spat through against the towel and her eyes shifted from left to right to try and focus on anything to distract herself. The storm outside was providing a good background noise which partially worked to distract her each time a contraction wore off.

And the candles gave a lovely, calming atmosphere. But it all served to remind (Y/n) that she was isolated, home alone, with no way of reaching out for help.

"Oh, Eddie…" A quiet sob spat past her lips when she dropped the tea towel down on the chair and let go with one hand to reach for her phone. "Ahh!"

(Y/n) choked on her breath and lifted her head up from her arm when she looked at her screen. Even though she was now down to fourteen percent from the amount of times she had been checking her phone over the last few hours, a spark of light lit up the screen.

One bar.

She had one measly, little bar of service in the right hand corner of her screen. Surely that would be enough to get a call through to 911? That had to be enough. (Y/n) wasn't going to get any more than this tonight, she could tell. And if she didn't try now and this signal went, she would be giving birth at home. Alone. She didn't want that.

Her finger punched in the three digits and when she held the phone to her ear, (Y/n) smothered her face down and cried out in relief when it began to ring.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Oh, Maddie! Help!" Tears stained down (Y/n)'s face and a broken sound left her wet, froffing lips when she heard her sister's voice on the other end of the line.

She had gotten through to her big sister. Her eldest sibling. Maddie would be able to help her. And even if the line cut out in a second or a minute, she knew (Y/n)'s address and would be able to get help down to (Y/n). She also knew Eddie was at work and would be able to send a message to him.

"(Y/n)? Where are you, what's happening?"

"Ooh,"

Not again. Not again. She was splitting at the seams, surely her muscles couldn't stretch any further?

Tilting her head to the left, (Y/n) clenched her hand down tighter on the chair and before she could stop herself, she pressed her mouth against her upper arm. Her teeth sank down into the soft flesh of her bicep and she screamed into her skin, focusing on the feeling of her teeth tearing through the first few layers of skin to distract herself from the agony in her abdomen.

Blood welled around her teeth and trickled onto her tongue but she didn't care. She had to stop herself from screaming loud enough to scare or wake Chris. She had to look after her boy and put him first.

"(Y/n), talk to me. Have you had a fall?"

"Oh, the baby- I'm in labour!" Her voice broke as blood and spit dribbled from her lips.

Her head tilted back to look up at the ceiling as she sniffed. Eddie wasn't going to be pleased when he saw her arm. She'd bitten deep enough to bruise the skin and split it apart and something told (Y/n) the wound would get a lot worse if her husband didn't get home soon.

"Please tell me you're at home?"

"Four hours! I- I've been like this for f-four hours. No signal, n-no power- oow- Get my fucking husband!"

"Don't worry sweetie, I'm going to re-route the one-eighteen to you right now and I'll let them know what's going on. Meanwhile, you stay on the line with me and I'll walk you through this. Everything's under control, I've got you now."

Maddie clicked her sister's call onto mute just as her sister's horrid yet somewhat muffled scream tore through her ears. With two clicks, she joined onto the radio feed for the one-eighteen. They were on their way to a car crash but Maddie could redirect them to (Y/n) and get the two-twenty five team to take over the crash. It was only a three car pile up at a junction and no one was in drastic danger.

(Y/n) was a high priority. She was one of the team, one of their own and she was in labour. This was her first baby and she was home alone, she needed someone to be there with her and she needed Eddie by her side.

"Dispatch to one-eighteen?"

"This is Captain Nash, go ahead."

"I'm re-routing you to a high priority call in Park's Close. (Y/n)'s on the line, she's gone into labour."

Eddie's head jerked up from where he had been slumped against the window and a rush of adrenaline fluttered through his stomach. He couldn't be hearing this right. He had left home what, seven hours ago? Seven hours ago (Y/n) had been perfectly fine with him. No twinges, no extra or unusual pains or discomfort and no sign of contractions.

How could she be in labour now?

Why was she in labour now? Why did it have to be now when they were in the middle of a storm and Eddie was on his last shift?

Reaching his hand out, Eddie braced his left hand against the window to try and steady himself and stop the sudden dizziness from taking over. He could feel his breaths wheezing past his lips and tingling sensations sparked in his stomach when his blood started to rush up his neck towards his head. His other hand moved to grip the radio attached to his left shoulder and he tilted his head down.

"Is she okay?!"

"Very distressed, she thinks she's nearly fully dilated."

"Go, go!" Reaching his hand up, Eddie slammed his fist against the roof and pushed back briskly in his seat. His fingers moved to curl in his hair and he closed his eyes, holding his breath for as long as he could to try and regulate his system.

He was supposed to be there when (Y/n) went into labour, from start to finish Eddie was supposed to be at her side. And now he had missed half of her labour by being on shift. He'd left his wife home alone during a storm. They needed to hurry before she gave birth on her own and he missed it.

He could see Evan trying his best not to jump and fidget in his seat and the worried smile on his face gave away everything. He was excited. Evan thought he would be either on shift or at home when Eddie called him to say (Y/n) was going into labour and had had the baby. He didn't think he would get to be there when his little sister had her first baby.

Eddie had never been more relieved that Bobby was the one driving the truck tonight. The captain was by far the best driver during an emergency and bad weather like this and he had gone as fast as safely possible to get to Eddie's address.

The truck didn't come to a stop before Eddie flung off his belt and headset and was jumping down into the street that looked more like a river in these weather conditions.

Water rose up to his ankles around his thick boots and rain pelted down and dampened his hair which stuck to his forehead.

He didn't bother trying to grab a medic bag from the truck, the rest of the team would do that. Eddie bolted up the path to the front door and tore off his gloves so he could trace his hand above the ledge for the spare key. His keys were in his bag back at the station in his locker and he doubted (Y/n) was going to be in any fit state to come unlock the door for them.

"Baby? Baby we're here!" Eddie shrugged off his florescent jacket and dumped it on the floor before he bolted down the hall. He was relieved (Y/n) had lit all those candles earlier. With the power out, the house would have been daunting in the dark and he would of had to rummage through the drawers for lights and torches.

"Eddie!" (Y/n) sobbed his name and let her head slump back onto her left arm, allowing the relief she felt to cloud her head that was about to explode.

Tears blurred her vision and obscured her view of her husband bolting across the floor towards her. Her body shuddered when his knees thumped against the floor as he collapsed down beside her.

In an instant, Eddie's hands cupped her face and he tilted her head back, brushing his thumbs beneath her eyes to clear away her tears. He leaned forward and pressed his lips bruisingly to her temple, reeling her close so he could move his hand to cup the back of her neck and coil her into his chest.

"Oh baby… God, I made it!" He felt her hands scratch at his upper back and her trembling seemed to vibrate through him and make him shake along with her. But it was her sobbing in his neck that made tears well up in his eyes. "It's okay mi amor, you're not alone now. I'm here."

(Y/n) couldn't help the way she cried. She couldn't help sobbing and gasping into Eddie's neck when she finally felt his arms around her. Her phone had lost battery a few minutes ago and cut off her call with her sister. She had been disconnected and isolated again until Eddie burst through the door.

"Cavalry's here sis! How you doing?" Evan came from down the hall with a bundle of towels and flannels in his hands. He knew his way around their house blindfolded from the amount of times he had stayed over and Hen had instructed him to go and get towels ready. He placed them on the chair and crouched down behind (Y/n) as Hen and Bobby hurried over with medic bags on their shoulders.

Evan reached out to rest his hand on (Y/n)'s lower back when she suddenly doubled over. Her head moved down to bury into Eddie's chest and she hunkered down with her stomach tensed and merging into her thighs as she screamed.

"Can someone check on Chris?"

"I'm on it." Chimney jogged down the hall to go and stay with Chris, it was likely that he was awake now and they couldn't have him wandering into the living room and seeing everything.

"Okay (Y/n), how do you want to do this? Shall we sit you down on the floor?"

Pursing her lips, (Y/n) nodded at Hen's question and kept her eyes closed. She wanted to stay hunched over like this but she knew it was going to be easier for them all if she sat down rather than crouched like this. She let Evan hover behind her and Eddie moved her arms to loop them around his neck before he grabbed her hips and started to stand up, pulling her along with him.

Eddie shuffled a few feet from the armchair but when he was about to turn (Y/n) around in his arms, he stopped short. His hand moved from her hip and suddenly grabbed her elbow so he could tug her arm closer to his face.

"Baby what have you done?"

His fingers pinched into her skin and his jaw locked so tightly his teeth felt like they were going to shatter. He inspected her upper arm with anger radiating through him and pain pulsing through his veins. He should have stayed home. He should have been here with her to sort things out and look after her. She might not have taken a chunk out of her arm if he'd of been home.

There was a horrid, deep bite mark into her bicep that was swelling up and had been deep enough to draw blood that was smeared across her arm.

With a growl and a shake of his head, Eddie dropped her arm and went back to holding her hips so he could turn her around and mould his chest into her back. (Y/n) reached out and grabbed her brother's arms to steady herself and when she dared to open her eyes, she found Evan smiling down at her comfortingly as they both helped lower her down to the floor.

She slumped back into Eddie's chest and tipped her head back onto his shoulder while his arms cocooned around her waist. His chin perched on her shoulder and made a shudder run through her skin.

"Let's have a look," Hen grabbed one of the towels and placed it over (Y/n)'s knees that she brought up as close as she could to her stomach.

"Not you!" (Y/n) snapped as she lashed her hand out against Evan's shoulder. Her fingers curled into his shirt and she dragged him until he got the hint and moved to kneel beside her and Eddie rather than next to Hen between her legs. (Y/n) was not having her brother watch her give birth from that angle and she wasn't having him intervine and deliver the baby either. As good as her brother was at delivering children, he was not delivering this one.

"You're crowning already, keep pushing. You've been doing just fine without us."

When a crack of thunder tore through the sky, (Y/n) jumped back into Eddie's chest which seemed to absorb her shock. His arms tightened around her waist and he kissed the side of her head, letting her nails pierce into his wrist while she took Evan's hand in her other one.

"I can't." (Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and tucked her face into Eddie's neck, letting him curl around her like a blanket and smile against her temple.

"You're so close now, mi amor. You've done the worst part, come on, he really wants to meet us, hm?"

Eddie's name tore from her lips, along with a broken scream as she pushed forward and felt Eddie shuffle up behind her to keep her sitting upright and prop her up. He peppered his lips along her neck and over her cheek while he looked over her shoulder, grinning through tears when Hen grabbed a towel for the baby.

"Head's out, one more push."

(Y/n) could see stars twinkling in front of her eyes and all the blood seemed to pool around her head until she was blacking out. Her pupils became unfocused and her head dropped forward as tremors rattled through her body.

"Good girl, you've done it. Come here," Eddie cupped his hand beneath her chin and gently lifted her head and let it fall into the crook of his neck. He pressed his lips against her temple and brushed his thumb up and down her cheek when he felt all the tension leave her body. She slumped down into his chest and the only movement was her trembling frame jerking back and forth in his arms.

Evan kept tight hold of her hand and rubbed his free hand up and down her arm to try and stimulate her and bring her back around.

(Y/n) tried to quirk her lips into a smile when the spots began to fade and she could see everything coming back to her.

She uncurled her trembling hand from her brother's tight grip and flopped both arms out when Hen carefully eased her baby boy onto her chest. She could barely hear his cries from the static pulsing through her ears but she could feel his hands batting down on her chest and his cries vibrating through her chest.

A breathless, wet laugh left her lips as Eddie reached his hand around to brush his fingers over the back of their boy's head.

"He's finally here,"

[haine-kleine]

I think enough time has passed that we can finally talk about how utterly useless and disappointing the final act of Dabi's arc ended up being.

The most disappointing thing of all is how fucking cool almost every setup was. Enji finally seeing the full extent of the damage he did to his son, his mind almost gone and his body about to blow up, and deciding to sacrifice his own life. Dabi developing an ice quirk, like his mother's. Rei coming there using her powerful ice quirk to save both Touya and Enji's lives, because she felt responsible for her part in driving Touya to this point. Fuyumi and Natsuo following Rei because they couldn't sit idly, while their family members are risking their lives. Shouto going above and beyond his limit to save Touya's life and then praising Touya's natural talent the way no one ever did.

This picture. The eerily happy what could have been, what both Touya and Enji wanted, a happy family where they both are accepted and loved, where Touya is healthy and doesn't hurt himself. Except he is missing an arm now, a new self-inflicted injury transferred from the real world, where the family is as far from happy as they could be. Enji is also missing an arm, the mutual self-sacrifice which was payment to getting Enji to finally fully see Touya and accept him, accept his own role as the parent responsible for this child of his.

This was the exact moment. That first frame is such a masterpiece it's much more thought provoking than the entirety of what followed. Look at your son's disfigured face. See the monster that you created. The fire that you have ignited. It's hotter than your own Hellfire and it won't ever stop burning, as long as either of you is alive. There's no end to this hurt. It's been hurting him since he was a child, and now it has spread to you. You did this to yourself.

And one thing I can tell for sure is that these chapters are going to go hard as hell in the anime. These surrealistic frames, followed by blockbuster-worthy action sequences. But what comes after that? And then nothing. It's like Horikoshi made these chapters specifically to work well for the anime adaptation. Because there is no resolution or even conclusion to any of the things that happened here.

Enji and Dabi losing their arms had so little meaning Horikoshi himself forgot about it and gave Enji the missing arm back in chapter 425. We never get to see the state of Touya's body after the war, so him losing his arm also loses his meaning, as he is covered in a full-body metal restraining jacket. Did they provide him with a prosthetic? If not, are they going to? Is he even going to notice the missing arm, or did it truly not matter? Or perhaps he somehow grew his arm back, the same way he grew his melted eyeballs back? Who even knows.

What about the family? Rei clearly cared a whole lot, enough to risk her own life to attempt to save Touya from certain death because she knew there's no point to rely on Endeavor , but now that the heat of the moment is over, how does she feel about what happened? Does she insist on getting to visit Touya more often? Does she reflect on her own experience of spending ten years in isolation and try to give Touya his freedom? Did Shouto share the story of Touya coming back home after his death with her and his siblings? How does she feel about it? How do they feel about their dearly missed brother willingly choosing to abandon them?

On that topic, how do Fuyumi and Natsuo feel about Touya at all? We do get to hear about Fuyumi's desire to talk more with Touya, but what does she want to talk to him about? Does she want to share her own life with him, to tell him about her old job and the kids she was teaching? About the many family dinners she had been organizing for their family despite it falling apart? Or does she want to ask him about his life? Is she at all curious what he had been up to? Does she want to know how he ended up a villain, why did he keep burning himself despite almost dying from it as a mere child? Would Touya himself want to talk to Fuyumi, or does he still think his sister will never understand him? If so, will she try to push through and repair their sibling bond, try to show him that mending their family is possible and she wants to see him a part of the healed Todoroki family, eating dinner with the rest of them?

Natsuo... I don't even know where to start. Todoroki Natsuo when he first appeared in the manga and Todoroki Natsuo from Dabi's dance onwards are two wildly different characters and the development that made him change so much is skipped entirely in the story.

The entire point of Natsuo's character conflict was being unable to let go of the past, when the rest of the family was demanding he puts the past behind them and looks towards the future. Why exactly was he so fixated on the past? Two reasons. One, his father's neglect of him and abuse of his brothers. He is indignant about what Enji put Shouto through, still angry about Shouto being isolated from his siblings despite the younger freely interacting with him and Fuyumi for quite some time since before the manga plot had started. He outright says that his father had killed Touya. And that's the second reason, his close bond with Touya. While the rest of the family, even their mother, have been able to grieve and let go of Touya, Natsuo has been haunted by him ever since the day of his death.

Their relationship was a toxic one, that is true, Touya was traumadumping his extremely unhealthy feelings on a little kid who was too little to process or sympathize with what the was going through. But from the way Natsuo talks about Touya after his death it's obvious that Natsuo cared a lot about him, still cares. He is indignant about the unfairness of what happened to Touya precisely because he knows the most out of all family members about what his experience was like. It's pretty clear that the reason he stubbornly refuses to forgive and accept Endeavor the way his mother and siblings did, despite genuinely believing himself to be a bad person for it, is not just because Enji was neglecting him as a kid but because since he was a kid he was exposed to the horror of what Touya's life was like. He was watching a person begging to be helped hurt himself everyday and he didn't know how to help him or stop him. Hell, it's pretty straightforwardly implied that his career choice was impacted by his inability to help Touya, who was covered in burns at all times, and Rei with Shouto.

So with all of that in mind, Natsuo's resolution feels fairly... bizarre. As far as his reunion with the dead brother he was bitterly mourning for 11 years, the one who showed up back from the dead expressing the exact same sentiment Natsuo has been trying to express to his family, 'The past never dies', goes, it's this:

This wouldn't even be so bad if there was some followup to this. Natsuo was highstrung with nerves, he was terrified at the thought of both of his parents and his brother dying for real this time (except it's Fuyumi who gets this line). Natsuo apologizing to Touya for saying this, after the climax of the battle is behind them. Anything. Because this framing with no followup at all makes it seem like Natsuo's feelings about his oldest brother is just being annoyed at him for constantly causing trouble to others, because he was venting to him so much when they were kids. If his were any other character, this claim would hold some weight, after all the dynamic was genuinely toxic, but all Natsuo did for the entirety of the Hellish Todoroki family subplot was causing others trouble by his inability to cope with his feelings. You know, the same thing Touya is doing right now, was doing as long as he was in the Todoroki household. Hypocritical much?..

Then we get to look at the final pages of the Todoroki family's conclusion, and it's all about Natsuo once again disrupting the fragile family harmony and peace by announcing he never wants to see Endeavor again. Also he is getting married. For someone who was so held back by the past for 200+ chapters, this sure is a big leap of faith into the future. What caused this development? Touya reappearing back into his life? Did Natsuo make his brother the symbol of that past that was holding him back and decide to abandon him, never see neither him nor Endeavor again?

Maybe so, maybe not. Does he hold hard feelings against Touya, because the real living Todoroki Touya is too different for him to accept as the brother whose ghost had been haunting him for a decade? Is it being a villain that he can't forgive? Or is he simply unable to cope with everything right now and puts off the conversation with his brother because that would be too hard right now? Isn't that the same thing Rei and Enji were doing for Touya's entire childhood?

That's the thing with this ending, you can ask a million questions and make up endless interpretations but you won't get any answers or reasonable conclusions to any of these character's stories, save for Endeavor.

And what is his ending? It's this.

He has moved on! Doesn't matter what happened to his original family, because he's got himself a new one. He is moving towards the future, surrounded by love, support and acceptance. It's the same thing as this picture!

Minus the inconvenient and explanation-demanding children subplots. That would require too much space and effort and the story needed to be finished asap. So? Why resolve the Todoroki family mess when you can give Enji a whole new family of his own? What happened to the other, original children? Who even knows. Who cares? Definitely not Enji, he has new ones.

What about Touya? Well, he was already accepted by his father once, that's enough for him. About his family? As far as we know, they left him all alone, crying, dying. About his missing arm? About his ice quirk? About his relationship with his siblings? With the League of Villains? The living villains, Spinner, Mister Compress, his cousin Geten, Skeptic? Who even cares. Definitely not this story.

[shinjisdone]

Female!MC and Friends - Malleus Draconia

[What's it like to be friends with Malleus and be dragged to his Events as a female]

(Very much and I mean very much and I mean super duper, incredibly unbelievably, HUMONGUSLY AND GIGANTICALLY based on my oc's reaction)

Hooh boy. Malleus Draconia. Crown Prince of Briar Valley. Powerful Dragon-Fae (or something like that), super old and feared so much that no one dares to invite him to anything.

Well, to you though, he is Tsunotarou-kun.

Like, you're not stupid. After the shenanigans with Crowley, Grim, Ace and Heartslabyul, you quickly learned that NRC is much different than your home.

And even though you did not know who he was, you could still tell this tall, dark and mysterious person was probably very important (or caused as much trouble as the others).

ALSO HE JUST LAUGHED LIKE A VILLAIN WHEN YOU SAID YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHO HE WAS

AND HE CALLS YOU CHILD OF MAN???

YE HE'S WEIRD, BRO YOU WERE JUST TELLING THE TRUTH

At Helloween...

Oh? You walk out of your door and everything is all different? Where did all these decorations come from?

There he is, Malleus, dressed in eastern clothing and seemingly cosplaying as himself - a dragon.

He explains his intentions to use your dorm as Diasomnia's Helloween place and you're fine with it. While he certainly was cryptic at the beginning, Malleus quickly proved himself to be calm and collected - and especially kind. He respected your decisions, listened to your words with great curiousity and does not cause any trouble. You were able to quickly call him a friend, which is probably why he trusts you, too.

It's not like you got any money or dormmates to pull of the same thing as Diasomnia and you trust Malleus as well. He eagerly tells you of his newly-found knowledge of eastern dragons.

Yet as the night continues on and guests become more and more...demanding...Malleus' patience is waning. First, the assaults to the Ramshakle dorm and now one of them has the audacity to casually touch him. Malleus himself was surprised at his own impatience and he truly was ready to spit out some fire...

But then, the harassment went from the dorm, from him, to you...

A few first pointing out how your outfit does not fit with the rest of the aesthetic and then one noticed how you were that one magicless student, who failed to trick them when she couldn't perform any spells! And wait, you're a girl?! Haha, isn't NRC supposed to be an all-boys-academy?

Some are saying how funny this is, how cute you are or how you don't fit into here at all.

Some are getting too close.

And quickly, your vision is blocked by a giant, long, black dragon tail and deep, vibrating laughter. Malleus is finding a certain glee in their arrogance that turned into fear oh so quickly.

And when their little selfie-sticks caught green fire, his glee turned into schadenfreude as they ran off, swinging their devices in hopes the damaged will cease.

"You do not play with a dragon's treasures...come and fear me if you dare!"

He's getting wayyy too much into this and Lillia is thankfully here to stop this.

You thank him (and even though his sudden 180° was really uuuhhh scary) and catch your breath. This was really...something.

"Hah, thanks, Tsunotarou-kun. But, uh, I don't think we'd better do that...or we'll burn the entire dorm down..."

As much as Malleus has to begrudgingly agree, your little 'Tsunotarou-kun' cheered him up a bit. It's like honey.

Kinda feels guilty for going so full 180° afterwards though. He did not mean to ruin anyone's Helloween (aside from the annoying guests). He hopes you still enjoyed this? Your first Helloween in Twisted Wonderland with him?

Once you reassure him that you did, he'll be okay :)

Ask him for a trick-or-treat round! Or maybe don't, cuz he is Malleus Draconia, feared crown prince of Briar Valley and very much showing his dragon fangs, tail and fire. He isn't gonna get any treats :,)

Just...try to spook him! There is a chance of him laughing in your face and telling you that you need more than a simple 'booh!' to startle him...but good try, Child of Man.

Oooor, he actually plays along but instead of pretending to be spooked, he just chuckles before giving you a treat. It is the custom, no?

Uh, thanks????

Still feels kinda bad for snapping there (though he'd set people on fire again in a heartbeat for being this obnoxious and bothering you) so he tries to be a bit more considering. Will tell you that you are indeed not funny or out of place here. Your custome may not fit his but it is still a good one. (Thx tsunotarou...)

Shows you around the entire decorated dorm. Look how nice Ramshakle looks! (For once)

Haunted house tour? How intruiging. And you're inviting him to join you? How INTRUIGING! (Happy Malleus noises)

Will not end up being impressed by any of the 'spooky spells'. He can do better if you ask him.

Please do not, he will not hold back to make the earth rumble and the sky tremble just to get a shriek out of everyone. They're gonna end up running straight towards the exit.

Not scared at all. Either unimpressed or chortling out of politeness.

Malleus more or less is only here to spend time with you and if you have a good time, then he does as well.

If you do get scared, he's first gonna be surprised. Seriously? These cheap, baby-like, first-grader spells? They're more like special effects if anything.

Well, Malleus shall not make fun of you and instead promises to protect you when these 'horrors shake you to the bones'. Do not fear, the mighty dragon will keep you safe and sound.

If you're scared, he will find it funny, however. Technically Malleus is the scariest thing here in the entire NRC. Everyone does not dare to speak his name in fear yet here you are hiding behind him ('Just checking if your costume is intact' you say. Sure you do) acting as if Malleus Draconia is the most harmless fly in all of Twisted Wonderland. You truly humor him, Child of Man.

Watching the fireworks with him...

Oh? He is getting invited? (Malleus said calmly but the huge grin on his face betrays his composure)

Will do his utmost to learn from Kalim's home country, especially when he was so kind to him.

And look at that, his favorite Child of Man is here too. Couldn't get any better!

There is a certain relaxing atmosphere here that he cannot help but indulge in...Malleus is sure to drag you to a few places. He is just very happy to have such a long time to spend with you and not the usual nightly walks you two have.

Very happy to try these new outfits ESPECIALLY because they are not his style. Turquiouse silk adorning his horns...so intruiging, so nice!

Despite everyone wearing matching outfits, Malleus is very happy to have you two match. You may not have the exact same style but it makes him a bit giddy to know you're matching in colors and flowers. Perhaps he should introduce you to Diasomnia's wear so you can match again?

It's interesting to see you in different clothes in general...but he gets extra happy that you match. Try as he might, no spell can cast that smile off his face.

You look quite lovely. He'd let that slip off his lips.

The markets are so colorful. Will show each thing he finds interesting (it's everything).

And when you shop with that matching fit and flowers, many clerks will ask if you are a couple and offer couple things to you.

"Oh, what a lovely partner you have there!"

"Oh, yes she is." Malleus would answer casually, like it's nothing outstanding.

"Wouldn't you like to gift your girlfriend something nice and fitting?"

Would ponder about the offer while you explain, haha NO you two ARENT a couple!!!111!

Malleus would brush the comment off and simply say he'd rather prefer that exotic fruit over there. You and he can share :)

So you do.

And when nighttime arrives and the fireworks start? Malleus admires them (while secretly thinking HE could more magnificient ones with pure magic but he bites his tongue. No need to be rude after everything everyone here has done for him).

Especially since they invited him :)

Will enjoy the beginning of the fireworks with everyone before inviting you privately on a boat ride. He wanted to since the beginning and this is an opportune time, no?

Enjoys the rocking of the boat and the lit sky above. It feels like only you two can see the fireworks, like they are meant for you two only, even when you are surrounded by awing people :)

Still, Malleus' arrogance shines a tad bit through and he takes your hand and has your attention on his magic. Why don't we add a smaller firework display right here before our very own eyes? As the sky sparkles in all kinds of colors, your own show would sparkle in green :)

PLEASE DONT ACTUALLY Malleus says 'small' but underestamates his own power. WHAT IS SMALL TO HIM IS VERY CATASTRPHICAL FOR NORMAL PEOPLE

When you dance at a masquerade...

My 👏 man👏 looks so damn good. And he knows it.

Like, you cannot convince me that he did NOT go all the way out BECAUSE HE GOT INVITED BY ANOTHER SCHOOL

TO A MASQUERADE? OH MY, BETTER PRETTY UP

LOOK;;; AT HIS MAKE UP

HIS SLEEVES

THE HAT AND THE HAIR

THE HEELS!!!!111!111

100% expects you to compliment him. He, Malleus Draconia, is a bit of an arrogant guy and will totally indulge in your compliments while acting humbly and accepting them with grace.

(He knows he looks great)

Nevertheless, he will get a HUGE grin on his face ("W-Waka-sama??? Are you okay, you're grinning like a...a kid in a candy store...) when you call him...anything really! Anything that comes from you is worth a treasure.

Oh, Malleus? Handsome? Oh my, stoooop (actually dont).

You tell him that he does look like a handsome prince from a fairytale book, ready to steal the show with a bold wink - and he just...laughs. Laughs and laughs like villain from a fairytale rather. Oh, Child of Man...you truly know no fear.

Feels quite confident even when he slightly expects people to fear him. He doesnt want to make a bad impression.

Will definitely compliment your outfit as well, no matter what it is. It could be as fancy as his or something simple but Malleus will be sure to let you know that you look great as well tonight :) he wants you to feel confident, too.

Malleus will also absolutely ask you to dance! No matter what, he truly wants to have fun tonight and that includes dancing with you. He'll assure you if you feel nervous about dancing. He had dance lessons ever since he was a wee egg child so just follow his lead.

Might, uh, really boast about his skills by dancing like a real 'fairytale Prince' as you called him. He leads and swings and dips you as if he was born to do this. Does this to actually boast but to also impress you. See? He wasn't lying when he said you can rely on him.

He forgets the rest of the world as he does this. A smile graces his masked features as his eyes crinkle, looking at you.

While Deuce was a red mess as he touched your body, Malleus has no problem taking your hand while resting the other on your waist. He has no problem getting bolder either as he snakes his arm entirely around your back.

And as the dance ends and he bows to you, Malleus sees you snap out of the trance and quickly, clumsily bow back. He jokingly asks how it was, rather as a way to jest with you.

Yet you truthfully tell him that it took you off-guard and that it felt magical - even if he did not use an ounce of it. You weren't joking when you said he was like Prince Charming in these moments as you danced.

It startles him to have you see him in such a positive light...in such a romanticised, captivating light. Not as a dragon-fae or as a future ruler...but as Tsunotarou.

It brings a smile on his face and a faint feeling in his heart congregates for the rest of the night.

HELP IVE BEEN LISTENING TO ONCE UPON A DREAM IN BOTH ENGLISH AND JAPANESE AND....MALLEUS MAN HE CAN SING AND HE LOOKS SO PRETTY NOOOO

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ 35

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,090ish

Summary: You and Logan fight to save Mariko.

Warnings: wounds, fighting, near death experiences

Notes: I have loved all the reactions I've received! Please keep them coming. They all mean so much to me! This is the last chapter before we start on the two different endings! Ending 1 will come out before ending 2. Also, before the ending 1 starts coming out, I'm going to post the one-shot for this series about their everyday lives from the ten year gap.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

You gasped as you woke up naked on the medical bed you had died on. Looking around, you could tell that you were alone. Meaning that Logan had followed through with going to save Mariko, which was what you had asked of him. You were honestly surprised that you had risen from the dead again, but you couldn't waste any more time. You needed to get to Logan.

You quickly found some clothes to wear and the location of Yashida’s birthplace. Thankfully, rich people always had a few cars lying around, and you were off. Racing to get to Logan before he did anything incredibly stupid.

~~~

Logan’s anger was fueling him forward. He needed to rescue Mariko and finish off Dr. Green. He needed to get his revenge for you. When Logan arrived at the town, he was met with Harada, waiting in the streets for him. Logan could sense that there were others nearby, hiding in the shadows.

“I see you’ve come to fight,” Harada stated, coming towards Logan. “It’s pointless. You’re outnumbered. The Black Clan has protected the House of Yashida for 700 years.”

The Black Clan began emerging from the shadows, from the alleys and the rooftops.

“Is that all the men you brought?” Logan challenged. “I’m going to get to Mariko.”

“We are grateful for your protection of Mariko. But there is one more sacrifice you must make for her family.”

“Go fuck yourself, pretty boy.”

Harada yelled, and the fighting began. It didn’t take long for the other Black Clan members to jump down and join, with more continuing to appear on the rooftops. Hard ordered them to begin firing arrows as Logan started to run through the streets. Logan got halfway through town before the arrows began to have heavy wires attached. Logan grunted as he tried to continue on despite the resistance of the wires. He groaned as a poisoned arrow hit the middle of his back. His vision began to blur, but Logan continued to move forward. The Black Clan continued to shoot wired arrows into his back until Logan collapsed face-first into the snow.

~~~

You followed the tracks of a fight in the snow once you reached the town. Your heart clenched at the sight of the clear marks of someone being dragged. You knew it had to be Logan. You continued to follow the tracks, slipping into the large house on the hill. With your powers fully restored, it was easy to take down the Black Clan members in your way. Eventually, you reached the center of the building, revealing to be a large, open lab spanning the whole building. 

Glancing down, you saw Logan locked up in some machine that kept his hands facing outward. You could see him moving slightly and groaning like he was waking up. With a sudden tug, you could see Logan trying to free himself. Slowly and quietly, you began to sneak down.

“Stand back," Dr. Green ordered the nearby Black Clan members as she waltzed up. “There is no need.”

“Where’s Mariko?” Logan demanded. “Where is she?”

“Are you pinning for someone who is not your wife? For shame. Where is your wife anyway?” Logan simply growled. “Did she not make it? Too weak?”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Dr. Green smirked before looking away at the giant samurai nearby. “Impressive, no? He is made of adamantium, just like you.” Logan continued to try to break free. “Oh, Logan, you know what, I get it. You’re frustrated.” 

She pressed some buttons, moving the machine that Logan was stuck in forward. The machine pulled his arms forward, away from his body. Logan kept heaving breaths as the machine kept him still, drilling into him and inflicting pain.

“I know Mariko is here,” Logan panted. “I want to see her.”

"You want answers,” Dr. Green stated.

“Yes, I want answers!”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could say more, but I was hired in part for my discretion.” Dr. Green leaned forward, up against the machine, taunting Logan. 

“I’m sure you were."

“That and a certain talent for combining biochemistry and metaphysics. High-grade toxins are my specialty. It helps to be genetically immune to every poison known to man, as I am. And immune to the toxin of man himself… as I am.”

“I’ll tell you what, you twisted mutant bitch, why don’t you open these bracelets, and we'll see who’s made of what?” Logan released his claws. Almost as soon as he did, the machine clamped down further around his fists, preventing his claws from retracting.

“The claws,” Dr. Green smiled. "Now we can begin. The suppressant bug you found inside of you and your wife was mine. You took it out on your own. I didn’t see that coming. Did you take your wife's out, too? Is that why she’s not here?”

“You don’t deserve to talk about her!”

“You are strong. You have courage. Real courage. But that won’t help much now.”

The giant metal samurai ripped itself free from the wires it was connected to. It stomped over to Logan, going around him, before stopping in front. You arrived on the same floor they were on in time to see the giant samurai pull a huge sword out and line it up with Logan’s claws. Your eyes widened as you noticed the sword heat up as it lifted. You rushed over and threw yourself between Logan and the samurai.

“Stop!” You shouted. 

The samurai lost its concentration, hitting the back of the machine Logan was in, throwing you, Logan, and Dr. Green around while the samurai fell back. Logan grunted as he landed on his knees.

“Y/N!” He yelled.

You looked up and over at him, shooting him a smile. “Hey, handsome,” you breathed out. “Miss me?”

Logan opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, he noticed the samurai getting back up. Slamming the leftover wrist clamp against the stairs, it came clattering off. He ran over to you and grabbed your hand, tugging you up harshly to stumble against his chest. His lips quickly captured yours for a brief kiss.

“You gotta stop doing that, sweetheart,” he whispered. 

“Gotta keep you on your toes somehow, honey,” you replied with a smirk.

He smirked back. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” The samurai stomping closer caused Logan to start to drag you in the opposite direction. “Run! Go!”

You and Logan ran side-by-side. You noticed Dr. Green rushing to cut you off. You threw your hands out, launching her over the railing and down a few floors in a ball of flames. Harada and Mariko rushed out of a room a few floors up.

“Go!” Logan urged, waving them off. “Run!”

The two of you began running down the stairs. The giant samurai jumped down to the level you had reached. Logan let out a roar as he flung himself at the samurai, causing himself and the samurai to fall down a few levels.

“Logan!” You screamed, looking over the railing to see him squaring up with the samurai. 

You spun around and tried to take the stairs two at a time to get to Logan. You could hear him groaning, straining to keep the samurai’s sword still as he used his claws as a shield. You reached the floor in time to see the samurai pull out a second sword that was quickly heating up. Using the railing, you launched yourself onto the back of the samurai and took hold of the heated sword with one of your hands. You focused on heating the sword up further, causing it to begin to lose its shape. It dropped the melting sword and reached back. It grabbed you and threw you over the railing.

“Y/N!” Logan roared.

You cried out in pain as you harshly landed a few floors down. You could hear Logan and the samurai fighting for a few moments before you heard a thud close by. Logan was quickly kneeling beside you, checking you over.

“Are you okay?” He asked, eyes still frantically searching you over. He carefully helped you sit up.

“Honestly, I’m ready to go home,” you responded.

He let out a hearty chuckle. “Me, too, darling.”

The samurai dropped down onto the level the two of you were on. Logan pulled you up and dragged you over to the electrical boxes. Using his claws, he ruined the boxes, turning off most of the lights in the building. You and Logan quietly hid behind nearby posts as the samurai searched for the two of you. The samurai passed the two of you, allowing Logan to jump on its back and retrieve another sword it had. 

“Y/N!” Logan shouted. 

He tossed you the sword, and you caught it. Holding it with both hands, you began to heat it up. The samurai spun around, kicking Logan down, allowing you to cut the head off the samurai. Logan launched himself at the samurai again, forcing him and the metal monster down to the bottom floor. The samurai slammed against the wall, breaking a hole into it that Logan was launched through.

“Logan!” You yelled.

You ran down the flights of stairs as Logan climbed back into the building. You dropped to your knees in front of him, the two of you quickly wrapping your arms around each other. In a blink of an eye, the samurai grabbed your ankles and tore you from Logan’s grasp.

“No!” Logan shouted, hands barely brushing against your arms as you’re torn out of reach.

The samurai spun you around and grasped onto your hands. The metal clamped against your wrists, and three drills from each of the metal hands appeared and began drilling into your fists, right into your bones. You screamed out in pain.

“Let her go!” Logan demanded.

The middle of the samurai opened up to reveal Yashida.

“Logan-san,” he greeted. “Don't look so shocked. With you at my side, I survived Nagasaki. Surely, I could survive this.” You let out another scream as the drills pushed further into you. “It’s alright. It won’t take long.”

“What are you doing to her?!” Logan didn't know what move to make without hurting you.

“Dr. Green and I have been waiting. It’s only this armor that's kept me alive. We built it to make me strong so I can take what you would not give. And transfer your unwanted healing to my body. It’s only by mere coincidence that your wife could also provide what you would not give. My legacy must be preserved. Your mistake was to believe that a life without end can have no meaning. It is the only life that can.”

Logan was watching as the life slowly drained from your body. You were growing older while Yashida was growing younger. He couldn’t get his eyes to look away from you. He couldn’t force himself to move.

“Logan!” Yukio shouted, throwing one of the large swords in his direction.

Logan caught it, gripping it with both hands, causing it to heat up. He stood up and, with a shout, threw the sword into Yashida’s head. The metal hands retracted the drills and let you go. Logan caught you before you could collapse onto the ground. Yashida stumbled back, gasping for breath, before falling out of the building to his death.

“Sweetheart,” Logan shook you, trying to get you to gain consciousness. “Wake up… I really can’t handle this again… I need you to wake up.” Yukio slowly came over, watching the scene. “Come on, honey.” 

The only hope Logan had was the fact that you were still breathing. You had to wake up. Yukio placed a hand on Logan’s shoulder.

“We need to get her some medical attention,” Yukio said.

Logan nodded, hoisting you further up into his arms before standing up. Yukio led the way out, where Mariko and Harada were waiting safely.

“Logan! Y/N!” Mariko exclaimed, rushing towards Logan. “Oh my gosh!” Mariko looked you over, immediately seeing your increase in age. “We need to get her to a hospital.”

“No,” Logan pulled you closer. “Too dangerous.”

“Logan, I have my grandfather’s business under my control. I have resources. The two of you have helped me so much. Please let me return the favor.”

“Mariko can help,” Harada agreed.

Logan scoffed. “Not really caring for your word right now, bub,” he muttered.

“Trust me,” Mariko pressed. “I won’t let any happen to either of you anymore.”

~~~

Logan snarled at anyone who tried to pry you from his arms the moment Mariko had the group escorted to a private wing of a nearby hospital. Yukio and Mariko had to work together to coax him into setting you on the bed. He insisted on staying near you the entire time. 

The doctor Mariko had called in specialized in mutants, giving Logan hope and making him even more cautious. Logan’s eyes created a rotation going from your rising chest, your face, to the monitors and back. He wanted to know everything and not miss a second of anything. He stood on the edge of every room you were brought into, like a constant guarding shadow. Mariko and Yukio took turns trying to get Logan to rest, but he couldn’t leave you.

It took a few hours for the doctor to get any results from the tests they had run. The doctor informed the group that you were slowly healing and de-aging. They said that you’d be fine in a day or two and would most likely sleep the entire time. The doctor encouraged the group to keep you there until you woke up, and Logan reluctantly agreed. 

“There's one other thing,” the doctor added, after updating the group. “I talked to Dr. McCoy on the phone, and he informed me of the incident that happened ten years ago when Y/N returned from the dead like a Phoenix.”

“What about it?” Logan asked. 

“Was that the only time?”

“No. She did it about a day ago.”

“That would explain what we saw in the blood we took.”

Logan took a protective step closer. “What did you see, doc?”

“Mr. Howlett, your wife is a powerful mutant, but when she rises from the dead like that, it sucks away at some of her abilities. The tests we ran and compared to previous tests that Dr. McCoy had run, show that her mutation is slowly decaying.”

“Are you saying that she’s dying?”

“Not exactly. She could still live another hundred years as long as she is careful. The more she rises from the dead, the faster her mutation will decay, meaning the faster—“

“She’ll die… Can she use the other parts of her mutant?”

“Of course. But I would be wary of bringing her into any more life-threatening situations. I have sent our findings to Dr. McCoy for his records, and so that he can keep track of Y/N himself.”

Logan clenched his jaw as he stared at you, processing the information. Mariko stepped forward and placed a hand on Logan’s back.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Mariko said.

“Of course,” the doctor replied. “I’ll be around if there’s anything you need.” 

The doctor left as Logan walked over to your bedside. You were slowly returning to the woman he knew. But, even if you hadn’t, Logan would have loved you anyway.

“I need to take her home,” Logan murmured.

“I’ll have the plane ready for as soon as she wakes,” Mariko said.

“No,” Logan shook his head. “I need to get her home now.”

“Logan—“

“I appreciate what you’ve done. But it’s my duty to take care of her and the best way I can manage that is at home.”

“If you’re sure.” Logan nodded, causing Mariko to sigh. “I’ll go make the calls.”

Mariko left to go to as she said. Logan gently took your hand and lifted it up, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

“We’re going home, sweetheart,” Logan whispered. “And we’ll never leave again.”

~~~

You needed to move, but you were trapped. The familiar weight of Logan’s arms around your waist was comforting, with his head resting on your shoulder. But you felt like you hadn’t moved in days; your muscles were stiff. As you slowly opened your eyes, you quickly realized that you were no longer in Japan. You were home. Logan’s head was on your shoulder, with his arms around you, keeping you against his bare chest. You lifted your arm and began scratching Logan’s arm. He groaned as he began to wake.

“Sweetheart?” He mumbled into your neck.

“It’s me,” you whispered.

Logan’s head lifted to fully look at you as his arms tightened around you. “You have to stop worrying me… I can’t take anymore.”

“I'm sorry. I’ll try hard not to.” Logan leaned down and kissed you softly. “When did we get home?”

“Last night. The doctor cleared you, and I wanted you home.”

You reached up and cupped Logan’s cheek. You could tell that the concern was still lingering. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I know, darling.” Logan grabbed your wrist and turned his head to kiss the palm of his hand. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Logan then explained what the doctor had found out about your ability to rise from the dead. You could feel Logan trembling as he spoke, like he was finally letting all his concerns out. Once he was finished, you pulled him to lay on top of you. Logan was careful not to fully put his whole weight on you but appreciated you holding him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you quietly promised Logan.

“No more danger,” Logan muttered. “No more missions.” He pulled back enough to allow your eyes to meet. “I need you safe. I need you here.”

“I won’t promise that unless you can promise the same thing… I can't lose you either.”

“I’m not the one with the habit of dying.”

“I promise I don't try to.”

“I know, sweetheart… Alright, no missions. No danger. For either of us.” He leaned down and gave you a brief kiss. “I never asked, how are you feeling?”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“I’ll let you know if it changes, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I do have one thing, though.”

“Anything.”

“Can we stay in bed all day?”

Logan gave a hardy laugh as he wrapped you in his arms and rolled over so you were on top of him. “Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

Ending 1 next chapter >

Ending 2 next chapter >