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midwestmade29 · 1 year ago

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Recovery 🤕

To Anonymous: I hope you enjoy what I came up with! I appreciate you sending in your request 🥰 I wasn’t sure if you wanted any spice in it or not, so I kept it fluffy just incase 😂

No disclaimers really. Maybe a couple curse words and mentions of being injured/in pain. Read at your own discretion!

Word count: 1,099

Divider by: Me 🙂

Side note: For accuracy, I looked up some info about the injury he had and how he took care of it. The little bit I found said that he did not have surgery and just did rehab for it instead. I wanted to clarify why I wrote what I did about his injury in the story 🤪

Original anonymous request: "So we all know that all those months ago when Christian was out of action that he had to have surgery when he was injured. Anyway I can send a request about his Fiancé (Who happens to be the women’s champion at the time, I can see her having like a Dr. Britt Baker reign) taking care of her hubby while also juggling work and their kid(s) (because we all know he has Isla but it’s up to you if they have more kids than just Isla!)"

With Christian being injured, you do your best to keep things running smoothly…

Your phone started ringing in your hand as you were about to walk out of your hotel room. Your face lit up when you saw that it was Christian trying to Facetime you! He had his MRI scan this morning to see the extent of his triceps injury and was likely calling to fill you in on the details. You hated missing his appointment, but being the women’s AEW world champion, you were in high demand right now! Missing out on any appearance or promo would be harmful to the amazing run you’re on right now, so you had to show up for Dynamite tonight. Christian completely understood the position you were in and encouraged you to go, supporting you 100%. You only agreed to make the trip since it would be a short one, and Christian promised to tell you everything about his appointment. You answered the Facetime call eagerly, but your smile faded when you saw the glum look on his face. “Hi baby. I just got home from my scan, and it was about what I expected it to be. I tore my triceps.” Christian said somberly. You could hear the frustration and the gloom in his voice, and it made your heart ache. Your voice cracked slightly when you spoke, “I’m so sorry Christian! I absolutely hate that for you! Does it require surgery?!” “Surgery is an option and so is just rehabbing it. Either way I’ll be out for months with my arm in a sling. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time, you know? Maybe I could’ve been more careful or taken more precautions to protect-“ he explained, but you cut him off. “No, you’re not going down that path. I won’t let you worry about the what ifs and could have been. I wish I could make it better, but I know you’ll get through this and come back better than before. I’m with you every step of the way, no matter what! We can’t change what happened, the only thing to do now is to move forward and start planning the best return in company history!”

Seeing Christian grimace in pain nearly broke your heart watching him do his at home exercises his physical therapist told him to do. He was working his ass off trying to do whatever he needed to do to get him back at 100% faster. His determination was inspiring! “Dinner is almost ready baby! Why don’t you take a break and rest for a minute? I’ll get your plate ready for you and grab you some ice for your arm,” you called out to him from the kitchen. Christian sat down at the table with a deep scowl on his face, and you tried to lighten the mood with a joke, “Well, look at it this way, you’ll be ambidextrous by the time you’re all healed!” but it fell flat when the food he had on his fork slid off and onto the floor. He tried to bend over and pick it up but hissed through his teeth from the sudden pain that he felt from his elbow up. “Here, let me get it!” you offered. When you looked up at Christian after you picked up what he dropped, he was rubbing his eyes with his fingers. You stood and sat the dirty napkin on the table before sliding your way onto his lap. He nuzzled his face into your neck, your words seeming to comfort him when you spoke softly, “I can only imagine how irritating this is for you. Not to mention how painful it must be. I see your effort and the hard work you’re putting in, and I’m so proud of you for sticking with your physical therapy and following the doctor’s orders! I’m here for you baby. It’s okay to let me help you when you need it! In sickness and in health, remember?”

Christian rarely complained throughout his recovery. He was getting better about letting you help him, and with certain tasks he was more than happy to let you take over. You often helped him shower since he couldn’t lift or extend his arm very well, washing his hair for him and getting all the spots he couldn’t reach with a washcloth. You tried your best to work around your travel schedule so you could make sure you were at Christian’s doctor’s appointments since you still felt guilty about not being at his first one. After getting some disheartening news from his doctor, Christian had reached a breaking point. During the car ride home, he vented to you about his struggles and everything else in between. “I can’t even hug you or Isla properly! I can’t dress myself without your help, can’t play certain games or do certain activities with Isla like we used to, and I’m so sick of not being able to sleep properly because I can’t lay on this arm! The simplest of tasks are still difficult for me to do! You have extra weight on your shoulders having to take care of me and Isla all while maintaining our home and traveling with AEW. I really don’t know how you do it!”

There were many things you had to juggle being a wife, bonus mom and world champion. Most nights you were exhausted, sore from wrestling and frustrated with yourself when you didn’t get the housework done you wanted to. Your days off were filled with dr. appointments, making sure Isla was taken care of and had everything she needed, running errands, making phone calls, paying bills, and helping Christian with whatever he needed. Your most recent title defense left you with a small injury of your own, but you didn’t let it slow you down! Christian was on the mend now and getting better and stronger every day! He was incredibly thankful for your love and support through his recovery. It was nice having him next to you on the airplanes again when you traveled together for work! He eventually made his surprise return on Dynamite after being sidelined for months due to his injury. Behind the scenes when the cameras were off, he credited you for keeping him sane through it all and helping him through the difficult times. When you walked up behind him after you did a pre taping, you overheard him singing your praises to another wrestler, “I’m still not sure how she did it all! She took care of me and Isla while handling everything else in between. Y/N is a champion in and outside of the ring!”

#christian cage #jay reso #captain charisma #instant classic #christian4peeps #aew #all elite wrestling #fanfiction #fanfic #christian cage fanfic #christian cage fanfiction #aew fanfiction #Spotify

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nativeofsumeru · 2 years ago

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More Genshin Impact Fanfiction Ideas(Part 2)

link to my previous list here:

A/N: I really like doing these and will definitely make more alongside my blurbs!

4nemo (Kazuha x reader) OR (Xiao x reader

this I guess could really go for either Xiao or Kazuha

4nemo boyband AU Reader meets Kazuha/Xiao by either be friends with Aether or Lumine, that’s their introduction to the group

After following the group on your for a little bit and getting closely acquainted with the member, reader realizes they don’t have much time left

At a bar(there doesn’t have to be reader having alcohol if reader doesn’t prefer it), reader finally has enough courage to ask Kazuha/Xiao for his number

Kazuha/Xiao obliges and they start a fluffy internet romance as reader had to return home and the band is still traveling

Venti sticks his nose into Kazuha’s/Xiao’s business and finds out about the romance (can’t stop teasing him about it)

Aether/Lumine(whichever twin was the close friend) pushes either reader or Kazuha/Xiao to finally make the romance official

reader and Kazuha/Xiao start dating in private as to not bring media attention yet

eventually tho the media somehow finds out

reader one day is casually going about their business alone and gets harassed by a crazy fan

idk to what extent the harassment would go

reader is scared for their life

Kazuha/Xiao on a phone call reassure reader it will all be ok

if you want a juicy plot to continue:

-Xiao:

reader has joined 4nemo for another concert that was within a reasonable travel distance

reader and Xiao are backstage chatting when crazy fan(doesn’t have to be the same one) has somehow snuck their way backstage and into Xiao’s room

Xiao throws hands to try and protect reader while reader goes to get help

crazy fan is arrested

for a fluff ending: Xiao worries about reader’s safety/well-being since being tied up with fame has its downsides, reader assured him it’s ok and they carry on, although he is very careful

for an angst ending: after the incident and reader finally telling Xiao what they’ve been dealing with, he ends the relationship and blocks reader’s number, “I can’t stand watching you have to live like this.” “Like what?” “In fear. You May not have said it to me aloud, but I know this kinda of thing scared you. It’s all because you’re wrapped up with me.” “But we can make it work-“ “End of discussion. I should’ve known this kind of thing was gonna happened.”

-Kazuha:

reader joins 4nemo for a portion of another tour

after a performance, Kazuha tells the boys he’s going to be late tonight as he’s going to get dinner with reader

venti teases him and tells him not to be back to late cause manager wants to talk to them about stuff

reader and Kazuha go to a small cafe and have a small dinner together, he tell them about new songs he’s written for the group partially inspired by reader being in his life

after the dinner, the pair are walking back to the hotel and get ambushed by a crazy fan(doesn’t have to be the same one)

Kazuha is very protective

Passerby see what’s going on and crazy fan gets arrested

reader is frazzled and Kazuha tries his best to calm them down although he’s frazzled too

for a fluff ending: Kazuha discusses with reader whether a relationship with him came and all is something they are really ready for and that there is no going back, reader assures him they are 1000% sure, “I just don’t want anything to happen to you as a result of my reputation.”

for an angst ending: Kazuha discusses whether reader is ready for a relationship with him fame and all, reader says they just can’t take it anymore and his heart breaks but he understands, “I just can’t live like this.” “But we can make it work-“ “No. I’m sorry Kazuha. I-I can’t.”

Heizou:

I know this is bad but a story where reader is with Kazuha but after drinking themselves into a stupor, Heizou walks reader home and they share a night of intimacy

they wake up the next morning panicked out of their minds as Kazuha is at reader’s door asking if they are ok

its Heizou and reader’s dirty little secret

whether they continue their physical affair or not is up to reader/writer

end of the day reader and Heizou end up getting feelings for eachother

-could be 4nemo/5wirl AU

-in this case the other band member kind of catch on that something isn’t right

#4nemo x reader #4nemo au #4nemo #kaedehara kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kaedehara kazuha x reader #xiao x you #xiao x reader #kazuha angst #xiao angst #kazuha fluff #xiao fluff #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #heizou x y/n #heizou x gender neutral reader

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miss-kittyy · 4 years ago

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Rewriting Briarlight and Longtail’s Deaths

So I am disabled, like very disabled, I am %50 of the teenagers ever diagnosed with my special combination of pain disorders, and I also unfortunately hyper fixated on warrior cats, which is bad news for me because warrior cats is super ableist, and to add insult to injury, the fandom can also be pretty ableist.

My biggest problem with the majority of “anti-ableist” AUs is that they “fix” the ableism stemming from the narrative and able bodied characters by making the disabled character less disabled, this so bad for many reasons. I’ve talked more about in other posts. The justification that real life disabled cats are less doesn’t make it not ableist, since when was warrior cats meant to be realistic? If you’re making an au where the disabled cats function like actual disabled cats you also have to make all the cats genetically accurate, and retcon Lionblaze lifting a tree.

My problem with warrior cats is not that the disabled characters cannot become full conventional warriors, I’d like it if they got to choose what duties the perform instead of being crammed into the medicine den, but I don’t care about Cinderpelt not being able to complete a marathon. Most of the fandom seems to think the issue is that the disabled character are not useful enough, instead of the way that able bodied characters deny of them agency and make remarks like “you wouldn’t want to return to a life like her’s would you?”. Disabled people do not need to be “useful” to be worthy and empowering.

It’s very obvious that most of the fandom just wants the disabled cats to be more palatable to abled bodied people, so I’ve decided to make my own rewrite instead to hopefully make myself feel better. A lot of these things are inspired by my own experiences and not every disabled person is looking for the same things in representation, this is totally self indulgent.

The goal of this AU is to highlight the many unique and valuable aspects disability and how being disabled does not infringe upon anyone’s worth, ever.

- Longtail doesn’t die in the storm, Briarpaw is still injured, but he’s found besides her, trying his best to help her cling to life.

- after Briarpaw begins to recover he stands up to Millie and other cats insulting her quality of life, he says her journey will be hard, but it is one worth taking.

- She asks him why he’s an elder, and he decides to request to have his warrior ship restored as Briarpaw is dreading the life of an elder.

- On his first patrol the cats accompanying him insist on speaking to him in an incredibly infantilism tone, and whispering amongst themselves over what he can or can’t do, without consulting him,

- He initially gives up on patrolling after that insufferable experience.

- Briarlight begins to create marks and blobs on the wall of the medicine den using crushed up dead herbs she asks him to retrieve some berries for her, and he complies.

- Jayfeather shows him how he navigates the territory with the help of some of the sighted cats, and Mousefur is quick to volunteer as his guide. He finds her company surprisingly empowering. He realizes that it was not his blindness which was limiting his abilities, but the other cats attitudes.

- Mousefur and Longtail return with mouthful of berries and herbs, Briarlight describes to him what she’s drawing on the side of the den and he helps he mound the materials into paint.

- The cats begin to pop into the medicine den to see Briarlights painting and soon Jayfeather has to kick her out occasionally so they’d stop crowding him, she’s given the walls of camp to decorate instead.

- She begins to illustrate Longtails stories of the old territory and Bloodclan, and this new form of storytelling becomes a tradition amongst Thunderclan.

- because more young cats are aware of the clans history it becomes harder for the dark forest to recruit them, unfortunately, Blossomfall’s resentment towards her sister means she never cared to listen.

- Ivypool is still recruited and trained like in canon, given her relationship with the dark forest was much more emotionally charged and manipulative than just plain lies.

- at a gathering Longtail meets Grasspelt who inquires about Briarlight, Longtail is surprised about how little he knows as the she-cat had mentioned how well they got along as apprentices. Despite Millie nagging him not to tell him the truth about her daughter he does anyways, but puts much more emphasis on how well she’s doing than Millie expected. Grasspelt thinks this sounds really cool and decides that he is going to see her and her paintings, and that nobody can stop him. Longtail makes sure to put any opposing cat in their place, but Briarlight is a very respected Clanmate, so most warriors don’t say anything.

- Briarlight is nervous and doesn’t want to come out of the medicine den at first, but when Grassheart darts into the den holding berries and flowers for her to paint with she quickly warms up to her visitor.

- Grassheart is happy to tell Briarlight that he’s never been able to be a “functioning” warrior, and that he has always imagined that his spirit is shaped different, the medicine cat says his body is normal, but he’s never been able to keep focus in a fight or react as quickly as he should be able to while hunting. (He’s autistic because I say so)

- As dusk nears he’s visually hesitant to return to Riverclan and when Longtail inquires on why he says that he hasn’t felt so “here” for a long time. On the way back he wanders off and comes back with a chipmunk, when returning to Riverclan territory his father, Mintfur, is shocked to see his catch. After talking with his family a bit he realizes that it was the noise from the river that was making him so tense and dissociated, Brackenfur, who was escorting him, notices that he keeps rubbing himself on the ground and wincing.

- For the next couple moons Grasspelt returned to Thunderclan to bring Briarlight plants that only grow in Riverclan territory, he begins trying to fish from the quite lazy stream in their territory and soon both him and Briarlight have got it down.

- Longtail notices the sadness present whenever Grasspelt left and exclaims that it’s rather stupid that he’s living somewhere so unsuited for him just because of words long repeated.

- Grasspelt confesses that he feels the same, but knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Briarlight tells Longtail that her and the Riverclan warrior had been thinking of each other as mates for moons.

- Longtail accompanies Jayfeather to the next half moon meeting where he proposes his addition to the warrior code, “no cat should be confined to laws which harm them due to an inherent physical or spiritual difference.” (Cats don’t really know how brains work, so they see mental disabilities as a difference within a cats spirit)

- A moon later the leaders meet to discuss this proposition, it is accepted and Grasspelt makes the journey to Thunderclan for the final time.

- Grasspelt is renamed Grassspirit when becoming a Thunderclan warrior, unlike prior renaming of disabled cats this is a celebration.

- Grassspirit spends most of his time taking care of the elders and kits, he’s incredibly compassionate especially with kits and is able to solve many problems within the nursery.

- When twigkit and Violetkit arrive in Thunderclan Briarlight and Grassspirit help raise them, after Violetkit is taken Briarlight and Twigkit paint her on the side of Thunderclan camp.

- Briarlight still gets sick and her illness progresses without any treatment, Grassspirit notices her trying to hide it and when Longtail finds out he’s very upset. Jayfeather frantically treats her, expressing his frustration that she didn’t tell them sooner, the second Millie steps out she breaks down and explains that she just wanted to deal with it herself, and perhaps if she were successful Millie would finally treat her like an adult.

- Longtail gives Millie a stern talking to, he tells her that Briarlight is a warrior of Thunderclan and as her clanmate she should show her some respect.

- Millie is inherently very reactionary, as she had not realized the full extent of her suffocation, but eventually after a couple moons her and Briarlight begin to rekindle their relationship, like adults.

- Blossomfall sees how Brairlight wasn’t basking in their mother’s attention like she imagined, and feels the urge to seek out an actual sisterhood after ignoring Briarlight for moons and moons.

- Briarlight isn’t really mad at her sister, and understands why she felt the way she did. Jayfeather suggests that Blossomfall help Briarlight with her painting, Blossomfall seems put off with the suggestion of being her sister’s assistant.

- The interactions that follow are less than ideal, Blossomfall commends Briarlight’s able friends (Thornclaw, Poppyfrost, Alderheart, etc) for being so nice to her, as if that’s not what friends do. She seems very sad the entire time, sighing when her sister dragged her legs around with her mouth to sit more comfortably, even though she was completely fine. When watching her paint she comments that it’s good she has “something to keep her busy”, and finally she expresses her view, of Briarlight’s injury and her (Blossomfall’s) suffering being all worth it because of her talents, as if her life was not worth living to begin with.

- Briarlight tells her that if that’s truly what she wants she’s going to have to put more effort into understanding and respecting her way of life, and that she won’t apologize for their mother’s actions.

- When Blossomfall has her kits they take a liking to Auntie Briarlight, and Blossomfall seems to have reflected on their past interactions, trusting her sister to watch her kits. Briarlight teases a bit, a subtle way of telling her not to rush things, but they do begin to feel like something close to sisters.

- Right before Briarlight’s Nieces and Nephews are made warriors Longtail dies of Greencough. Throughout the entirety of his sickness he kept his sense of humour, his mean streak, and his immense love for what he had made of his clan.

- At his vigil Grassspirit began whaling like a bird in new-leaf, he insists that the vigil is too sad, and that Longtail wouldn’t want everyone moping around, for Starclan’s sake, his life was good. Standing amongst them, Longtail’s spirit can feel every cat in Thunderclan standing around him, singing the song of a life well lived.

#I imagine grasspelt as a chill stoner dude #next I’m gonna revamp my Ivypool PTSD headcanons cause I also have that lmao #warrior cats #warrior cats ableism #ableism #disability #warriors #briarlight #Grasspelt #briargrass #was #Longtail #warriors au #autism #warrior cats au #wa riot cats rewrite

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wlw-peachylsbn · 4 years ago

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the only heaven i'll be sent to (is when I'm alone with you) (bellatrix lestrange x reader)

A/N: Okie dokie, girls and gays! So! This is going to be a sub!Bella fic. Now I know what you all might be thinking, Bella is a dom, but you know what? It's not my fault my brain is so big and sexy, and I'm on a whole new galaxy. Thanks to @bellatrixscurls for inspiring me!!!

We have some praise and degradation, a bit of a choking kink, pet play, a big ass Mommy kink, and like. A shoe kink?

Your quill jumps from one line to the next, not stopping even when your love walks into the room. You're only half done with this essay, and you still need to finish one more after this. Thanks to Bellatrix's interference, you slacked off during the weekend, preferring to share her bed and lounge about. Though, who could blame you?

So deep in thought, you don’t notice Bellatrix as she moves closer to you, heaving a deep sigh.

"Did you need something, Bella?" You tap your quill, still thinking about the right way to form this one sentence.

"Yes, I actually did.” She shrugs, taking a step closer so there's only a sliver of space between you. It's an odd position, really, and you have to crane your head back to gaze at her.

"Yes?" You reach up to tangle your feelings in her curls. When you tug lightly, a shiver runs through her body.

Oh. You pause, looking Bellatrix over shrewdly. Your weekend wasn't just relaxing; you also discovered some wonderful, nasty details about your lover. Specifically, some certain kinks she had.

“Oh, did you want Mommy, sweetheart?” you coo, tugging on her curls again.

Another shiver runs through Bellatrix’s body as she kneels before you, eyes big and soft. You can already tell that she's slipping into her subspace, an experience you both have discussed thoroughly. You haven't acted on it quite yet though, but today might be the perfect time to rectify that.

“That’s right, go get on your knees, darling.” Your hand comes reassuringly down on Bellatrix’s shoulder, pressing her to kneel completely.

God. Bellatrix is absolutely beautiful like this, with her hair wild and a curl in her face, her eyes wide with starry-eyed longing, like she thinks you hold her world up. Of course, you would be lying if you said it didn't arouse you to see Bellatrix on her knees for you, only for you. She's such a dominant, tough personality, which leads people to assume she would be in charge in the bedroom. Sometimes she is, but she also confessed that playing with submission would be incredibly arousing for her. You're the only one she trusts with her secrets, which infuses the scene with more tenderness than you expect.

“Am I doing okay, Mommy?” A whisper, light as air, settles in between the two of you.

You know how deeply Bellatrix needs reassurance. Mainly praise. She didn’t say such a thing in as many words, but you know her. A kind word or a light touch makes her clingy, but praise, full, unrestrained, lengthy praise will make her … well. You don’t know yet, but you can’t wait to find out soon.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetheart, being such a good girl. Just sit there for Mommy, alright? I want you to relax a bit.”

“But, Mommy, I feel fine, I don’t want to—”

“Quiet. Now. Do not question me.” Steel enters your tone just as quickly as Bellatrix whines. She sticks out her bottom lip, scowling in a rather cute manner, you admit. But you wipe away any trace of amusement from your face. “If you act like a brat, you can go back to your room and pout there instead.”

Another scowl, this one deeper, crosses her face, but she grudgingly nods and lowers her eyes. You resume looking at your paper, pretending to work, but your mind races, returning to your little brat at your feet. Should you keep her in suspense for a while longer? Or really draw it out until she pleads?

“Mommy?”

Well, that didn’t take too long at all.

“Yes?” You keep your tone purposefully neutral.

“Are you mad?”

“No, just disappointed.”

Bellatrix pouts. Again. “I hate when you say that.”

“I know, darling, but if you were good, I wouldn’t have to say it so much.”

“ ‘m sorry.”

“What was that?” You raise your eyebrow, not ready to drop the matter yet.

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I just …” Bellatrix has never been one to conceal her feelings. You can see the hesitance warring with want, clear as day, as she ducks her head, avoiding your searching gaze. “I …”

“What is it, honey? You know you can tell me anything.” You lightly grab her chin with your hand, tugging until she’s facing you. “You know I would never judge you.”

“Can you be really Mommy? And make me feel like your little girl again?” Heat blooms in her pale cheeks, and when she hides her face again, you let her. “I just wanna … be good for you. Please?”

The tenderness from earlier returns, and you coo, “Oh, I see now. You want me to tell you what to do? Do you crave my firm hand? My harsh touch? Come now, good girls use their words.”

“I want you to be nice, Mommy. To make me feel really good. But I want you to be mean, too.” To anyone else, Bellatrix’s words would sound like a convoluted mess. And they are, to some extent. But you can always soothe her mind and untangle her web of feelings.

“I see now, darling. Of course, I’ll do that. You just be my good girl and let me take care of everything, alright?”

“Yes, please, thank you, Mommy.” She looks up finally, and you can see the self-awareness leaving her body. There’s no more shame, just that adoring look you aim to see. It’s just you and her. Mommy and baby girl.

“That’s right. You just want to be my perfect little slut, don’t you?”

You watch carefully as Bellatrix gasps, eyes slipping shut as she leans forward. “Yes, Mommy, thank you, Mommy.”

“That’s right, you just sit still and be a good little toy for me.” You hum almost absent-mindedly, reaching to grasp her chin again, turning it this way and that. You appraise her, eyes lingering on her pale throat. Even her neck is beautiful, all exposed skin and deep hollows. “Would you like a collar, darling?” You slowly move your hand as you talk, effectively choking her, though you don’t apply much pressure.

“Oh, Merlin, please, Mommy? Yes, yes,” Bellatrix says, eyes pleading. “I’ll be good.”

“Would you? You want to be my little pet so badly, hmm? I think I’ll arrange for a nice thick collar, a pretty one, too. A dark red, since I know you love that colour so much. What do you think, pet?”

Bellatrix downright whines. She scoots as close as she can, practically sitting on top of your feet. “Please, I want to be your pet, and I want your collar too!”

“Yes, a collar sounds very nice,” you muse. Then you tighten your grip around Bellatrix’s throat a moment later. Her eyes slip shut, her hands reaching to steady herself on your leg. “You’re always my pretty whore that I can use, yes?”

“Always, but can you please touch me now, Mommy? I need you.” She tries a pout again, and although you want to kiss it anyway, you don’t budge.

“I thought you were my toy, though? I don’t recall you having the control here. So be a good little girl and be quiet.”

“But I’m so wet for you, Mommy. I can’t wait any longer.”

You sigh and click your tongue. “Don’t test me again. You’re my pet, remember?”

“Always.”

“But since you want to come so bad …” You cock your head to the side, a smirk forming on your lips.

“Yes, Mommy? I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” Her dark eyes are lightened with trust. Complete, absolute trust as she waits patiently for your orders. You could make her do anything, you know that. But you only have one thing in mind.

You extend your shoe, laying it flat on the floor. The confusion that sparks in her eyes is downright adorable. Bellatrix cocks her head to the side, looking very much like a confused pet. “Needy little girls like you don’t deserve my fingers or mouth. If you want to come so bad, you can use my shoe and prove yourself.”

“Mommy?”

In a flash, you lean down, pressing your forehead to hers. Bellatrix’s hands come up around your shoulders, balling your shirt in her fists. She falls silent, taking a moment to breathe as you ask, “Baby? Is everything alright? If you want this to end, you know your safeword.”

“I’m okay, thank you, Mommy. Can we continue, please?”

“Of course, sweet girl.” You press a quick kiss to her forehead before pulling back, falling easily into your role again. “Or should I say, you little brat? I see you, trying to distract me.”

“I didn’t mean to, Mommy. How can I make it up to you?” Bellatrix peers up at you through her eyebrows innocently.

You say nothing, choosing to hold your shoe out again. For the second time today, Bellatrix blushes, a pink hue rising in her cheeks and chest. However, she doesn’t hesitate any longer and straddles your shoe.

It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. Honestly. She hitches her skirt up, tossing it behind her with a flick of her wrist, never losing her flair for the dramatics. Her hands caress your thighs, slowly coming down to grip the back of your legs. And finally, she lowers herself onto your shoe, an obscene moan escaping her mouth.

“How does it feel, Bella?”

“Fuck. So good. So good, Mommy,” Bellatrix rasps, head tilting towards the ceiling in blissed-out pleasure.

“Watch your mouth, pet.” You slap her cheek lightly, which draws another choked moan from Bellatrix.

“Sorry, Mommy.” Even as she apologies, her hips rock back and forth.

“Yeah? What are you apologizing for?” You make sure to keep your tone casual and airy, though you can’t help but start to tease her. You flex your shoe upward—but only but an inch or two. The cool material presses against her most sensitive area, drawing another whispered swear.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, Mommy, I’m sorry, please, please—”

“Aww, is my baby too flustered to talk? Be a good girl and tell me what you need.”

“Mommy, please, I can’t, I need you so bad—” Bellatrix shifts again, and when she meets your gaze, you see tears brimming in her eyes.

You frown, wiping a stray one away. While you hate to see her cry under any circumstances, there’s a small sadistic part of you that roars with heat, wanting to see how long she can withstand your (pleasurable) torture. You stay quiet, thinking about the best move before you say, “Oh, darling. You need to cum that badly? Well, alright, honey. You can have a reward.”

“A reward?”

With great debilitation, you raise your shoe all the way, so it’s firmly pressed against her. You don’t hold back. She moans, her hips rocking even more. “Here’s your reward, baby. But I’m not going to do all the work. If you’re not crying and screaming like a little whore for me, then I won’t fuck you again for a while. So you better thank me, pretty girl, and get to work.”

“Oh, Merlin, thank you, thank you so much.”

“I prefer Mommy, baby, but you’re welcome either way.”

You watch with a smug smile as Bellatrix rubs herself all over your shoe. She moves slowly at first but moves quicker and quicker. Little pants and hitched breaths fill the room.

As she keeps chasing her high, you play with one of her curls, twisting it around your finger. “Soon, I’ll find a perfect collar for you, so everyone knows you belong to me. Then I’ll put a tail in your ass, too, baby girl, and have you kneel for me like a good kitten.”

“Oh, Mommy, yes, I’ll be your good kitten. Merlin, please, fuck me, fill me up.” By this point, Bellatrix is fully in her subspace, all tears and whiny begging that make you want to fuck her harder or wrap her up in your arms. But you go with the former and lean forward, your breath brushing her half-lidded eyelids.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

You start moving your shoe again, flexing it, and dragging it back and forth. This time, you don’t give up on the pressure, instead aiming directly for her most sensitive spots. Your shoe grinds against her clit, causing her to moan.

“Look at you, my pretty darling. Making such a mess, rutting all over my shoe like a bitch in heat.”

“Fuck, Mommy, I’m going to come, please?”

“Go ahead, baby.”

Not a second later, she says, “Thank you, Mommy, coming for you, Mommy—”

Bellatrix’s orgasm is a wonder to witness, and you can only stare, like a galaxy is exploding in front of your very eyes. It comes as a trickle at first, minuscule shudders that shake her once, twice. But as she’s urged on by your whispered praises and hands tugging at her hair, her pleasure turns into a river carrying her away—until her orgasm crashes against her again and again, like a tidal wave threatening to drown her, promising to carry her out to sea forever, to never let her come back to shore.

“Mommy, Mommy!” Tears start to spill down her cheeks, but there’s no sadistic jolt this time. That side of you quietly leaves, replaced with the urge to care and protect.

“I know, baby girl, that’s it, you’re alright.” You keep a firm grasp on her shoulders as she shudders the last of her orgasm on her shoe, then tug her up. She crawls into your lap, tucking her head into the crook of your neck, sniffing. “Shh, darling, you did so well. You were so good, my perfect, good girl. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Was I really good?” Timid eyes peek at you from between strands of hair.

You smile, reaching to brush a curl away so you can better see her. “You were perfect.”

“Thank you, Mommy. I really liked everything we did.” Bellatrix sniffs again, pressing closer to you.

You chuckle. “I could tell, baby.” You run your hands up and down her spine, feeling the heat radiating off her. All the while, you keep cooing the sweetest praises and words of devotion into her ear.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“Do you think we can try fisting next weekend?”

A true, genuine laugh escapes you. Oh, Bellatrix has the most unique, one-track mind. “Why don’t you rest up for a bit first, okay? We can talk about it later. Just relax now.”

“M’kay, Mommy, I will.”

Tomorrow, next weekend, the future all stretches before you, eager to be shaped by your hand. Anything you might want to do—and the ideas bloom in your mind—you can. But right now, you’re focused on the lovely, needy, flawed soul in your embrace. It’s you and her against the world.

You start to hum and resume rubbing Bellatrix’s back, allowing her to snuggle closer. Her eyes, though sleepily locked onto you, slowly flutter close. You smile indulgently, whispering, “Mommy’s right here, darling. Shh, go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix lestrange x reader #bellatrix x reader #bellatrix black #bellatrix black x reader #bellatrix imagine #not sfw #hogwarts

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imkylotrash · 4 years ago

Text

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

Request: They’re getting ready to go into the Quarter Quell, and essentially have a super sweet conversation where they confess their love, and are like “damn the revolution I’ll protect you”. Anonymous

A/N It’s been a long time since I read the books so if I accidentally used the wrong word for something please let me know and I’ll correct it 💛

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody

You called it before they even announce it. You knew all the victors would get involved in the Quarter Quell because how else would he get Katniss to be in the arena without letting the public know that it’s purely to kill her? When you hear Finnick’s name get called out, there’s no choice. But was there ever one to begin with?

“I volunteer as tribute,” you say raising your hand to let them know that you’ll be going into the Quarter Quell and not that poor girl they’ve got on stage. You don’t look at Finnick because you know his face will just mirror back the pain you feel. No matter what the revolution has planned, you highly doubt that both of you gets out alive. The focus will be on Katniss because she’s the one that’s been fuelling the fire while the rest of you can die a martyr and inspire the people then Katniss’ death would squash the tiny flame. It’s not fair but she made everything possible when she took out those berries.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Finnick tells you once you’re on the train travelling to the Capitol.

“There was no way I was going to let you go alone.” Not to mention that innocent girl who got drafted. You’d have been a proper piece of shit had you not volunteered.

“But you could’ve survived. Don’t you understand that’s all I care about?”

“Careful, Finnick. Someone might hear your declaration of love and think it means something else.” It’s a warning that the walls have ears and not necessarily just the Capitol’s ears. Although you both want to think only the best of the lovely Coin, you can’t help but feel like it’s too good to be true. And you have no doubt that she’s got as many spies all around as President Snow.

“I just want you to live,” he says hearing your warning loud and clear. Katniss and to some extent Peeta are untouchable, you are not. He takes your hand without another word. The rest of the train ride you remain quiet, too worried about saying the wrong thing and jeopardising this whole thing. Haymitch is counting on to keep Katniss alive until the rescue mission and your lives can’t matter more than the entire of Panem. Even if you want to say screw that sometimes.

“God, you’ve gotten old,” you smile spotting Haymitch next to the star-crossed lovers. He scoffs but can’t help but laugh. You’ve known each other for quite some time now and learned a long time ago that humour is how you all get through this with at least some level of sanity.

“I see your kindness have only grown over the years,” he mocks before giving you a massive hug. Being a victor and having to mentor the kids every year creates a certain bond between you all but Haymitch has always been one of your favourites. It’s the reason you know you can trust him to do you a favour.

“We should talk once all the celebrations die down. Catch up on old times,” you smile giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze. He agrees suggesting the rooftop for a gorgeous view. When Finnick sneaks his arm around you, there’s a slight pang of guilt but you force it to the back of your mind. He’s going to survive the Quarter Quell if you can do anything about it.

“What did you talk about?” he asks quietly and you keep a smile on your face not even looking at him.

“Just good old days,” you utter hoping Finnick will understand not to ask more questions right now. There are too many people around you to speak freely and, in a minute, you’ll have to get on that carriage and pretend you’re proud to be fighting once again.

“Katniss, Peeta!” you call out catching their attention just as they’re about to get on their carriage, “nice costumes.” You’re trying to be nice and establish some sort of positive relation between you but all it does is make Katniss stare at you like you’re personally responsible for putting her in the Quarter Quell.

“I already tried. Tough nut,” Finnick tells you. It makes sense why the revolution needs a face but why they would ever choose someone like Katniss is beyond you. She’s not kind or caring expect when it comes to the people she loves. The future of Panem seems oddly low on her list of priorities but then again when has war ever made sense? And you certainly can’t say you’re morally better than her.

“Is holding hands a cliché?” You look over to Finnick who’s doing his very best to put on a brave face.

“I think it’s perfect.” You intertwine your fingers with his not letting go until the carriage has driven through those gates at the end where the public can’t see you anymore. And even then, it’s just to get some blood flow back.

“I just want some sleep,” Finnick says itching to get the costume off and you’re thinking the same thing. You ride up in the elevator with Katniss, Peeta and Joanna which makes for an interesting end to the day.

“Never a dull moment,” you say before exiting the elevator with Finnick. Joanna laughs loudly while both Katniss and Peeta looks slightly mortified. If she’s trying to win over Katniss, Joanna is doing a poor job.

“Let’s take a shower,” Finnick suggests now that you’re finally alone and you’re all too happy to comply. In the shower you can finally speak freely with the sound of water drowning out the sound of your voices.

“I know it’s horrible to say but the revolution doesn’t matter to me if I don’t have you next to me when it’s done.” He slowly lets his hands slide down your arms until they reach your hands.

“I know,” you whisper feeling the exact same way. The guilt returns tenfold this time but you keep quiet knowing that when he’s sleeping tonight, you’ll be bargaining for his life.

“I say damn the revolution. I swore to protect to you a long time ago and I’m not breaking that promise now.” He kisses you with a fire that tells you just how badly he wants to keep you safe. Desperation takes over your body as you kiss him back. You wish you could leave now and hide somewhere far away from everything. If it were up to you, you would’ve fled the moment you heard about the Quarter Quell. But it’s difficult leaving behind so many decent people who needs your help and the few moments of hesitation had been enough for the peacekeepers to show up and make sure you didn’t take off. Snow always knew you were a runner.

“And I say you’re sounding crazy. We can’t change the plan now. There’s nowhere to run.” As much as you’d love to run away and hide with him, you know it’s too late for that now. You wouldn’t make it out of the building.

“I don’t care if I sound crazy. We can protect each other in the arena, make sure we never part. And when they come get us, we make sure they grab both of us.” It’s cruel really to give hope to him because you know it won’t work but you wish it could be so easy.

“And then when we’re out, we hide. No more war, no more revolution. Just you and me and a small cottage near the water.” Hope may be cruel but it’s a strong motivator to survive and if anything you need Finnick to survive. You hide your face in the crook of his neck allowing yourself to feel a pang of sadness at the prospect of the future you’ve lost. Your lives ended the day you got drawn for the Hunger Games.

“And you can finally have enough quiet to paint,” he adds and you don’t have to see his face to see the affection in his eyes.

“It would be perfect,” you say closing your eyes to picture the cottage and the life you could’ve had with Finnick. The water hides the tears that fall from your eyes and it’s a good thing because you’re not sure you would be able to hold your secret from spilling out if Finnick noticed.

“I promise I will make it happen. I promise we’ll be alive to spend the rest of our lives together. Whatever it takes,” he says. Instead of answering him, you kiss him again. When the water turns cold, you get out and dry off. You both know that your safety is gone now and they can hear whatever you say so you keep quiet letting your eyes do the talking. You cuddle up in bed where you wait for him to drift off before you head to the roof where Haymitch is waiting. The wind is loud tonight working as a noise diffuser.

“I want you to save him.” It doesn’t surprise Haymitch but you both know he can’t make any promises.

“I know Katniss is the main goal and that’s she’s probably made some demand for Peeta. But if there comes a choice between saving Finnick or the rest, you save him. Do you understand?” It’s the least he can do for you after everything you’ve sacrificed for President Coin and the revolution. You could’ve had a life if things had gone differently.

“And that includes me, Haymitch. Once you’ve gotten Katniss and Peeta out, Finnick is your priority,” you add knowing that if Haymitch could choose, he’d pick you.

“Finnick will make more sense for the revolution. I won’t be an asset the way he can be.” He knows you’re right. Of course he does but it doesn’t mean he has to like it.

“I know,” he grumbles. You both know there’s a good chance you won’t make it out of that arena but then again none of you have been safe ever since you became victors. Snow made sure of that.

“Promise me. I need to hear you say it.” You’re not satisfied until you hear him say those words that will give Finnick a chance to make it. As much as you’d love to believe his plan of getting out of the arena together, you can’t afford to entertain the idea. Even if Finnick isn’t ready to admit it, you both know it’s a fairy tale ending you won’t get.

“I always thought he was just your way of getting through it, you know. That he offered some sort of relieve.” Maybe at first Finnick was your escape from reality but not now. He’s your world and everything else.

“He has my heart, Haymitch.” You hug him tightly hoping he knows how much his friendship has meant to you over the years of being a mentor.

“Take care,” he says before you spin around hurrying back. Finnick doesn’t wake up until you crawl back to bed but a quick excuse about the bathroom satisfies his curiosity.

“I love you,” you whisper looking over at the man who’s given you so much more than you’ll ever be able to explain.

“I love you more.”

#hunger games gif #hunger games blurb #hunger games imagine #hunger games #thg blurb #thg imagine #thg fanfic #thg gif #thg #finnick odair x reader #finnick imagine #finnick odair blurb #finnick odair gif #finnick odair

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

Text

Drastic Measures- Part 1

@daminette-december2019-2020

~Inspiration~

*Emerges from my hole*: oh ho ho~ we have another month of inspiration on our hands!

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

Marinette steps through the portal immediately collapsing; she doesn't drop the transformation until she hears Chat drop down next to her. She calls the transformation of both the Horse and Ladybug miraculous, knowing Chat will close his eyes without her asking, Marinette does the same for him as he calls off his own.

They stay like that, panting on the rooftop. It’ll be sunrise soon, Marinette knows what she has to do.

“He’s moved,” She breaks the silence. Stating the obvious, they’ve known this for months.

“At least he wont be bothering Paris anymore,” Chat laughs, without any humor.

“But Gotham is so much worse,” Marinette groans, “We can’t keep doing this, not like we are, Spots on,”

Marinette stands letting the transformation wash over her while keeping her eyes shut, this will be easier to say without looking at him anyway.

“Chat Noir, hand over your miraculous,” Marinette recoils at the wounded sound he makes, “I have to leave Paris,”

“What? No! Claws out!” Marinette opens her eyes to see Chat, furious and with tears in his eyes, “I’m coming with you!”

She thought he would say that. Probably would have hurt if he didn’t.

“I can’t just ask you to leave your life, your friends,” Marinette chokes up, “Your family,”

“And what about you?!” Chat says with such heartbreaking sincerity, “Who will you be leaving behind!?”

“... Everyone,”

But she had put it off for too long. Hawkmoth slowed his attacks in Paris months ago, they thought he was giving up… then he attacked Gotham. The attacks in Paris stopped. The ones in Gotham were so much worse. She thought… she thought she could keep it up, jumping through a portal every time Gotham needed her. It was the best of both worlds. Her family and friends were safe and she could still defeat Hawkmoth. But nothing was ever that easy. Gotham needed her, completely, with undivided attention. Paris didn’t. Gotham needed Ladybug more than Paris needed Marinette.

“Not me,” Chat breaks Marinette from her thoughts, gently holding her shoulders, “I’m coming with you,”

She should argue. She planned to argue, every detail ever rebuttal. But she was weak. Marinette so desperately wanted him to come. To have someone, anyone there for her. No not anyone she wanted Chat by her side. Her partner through thick and thin. The one who would help her take down Hawkmoth. It was so unbelievably selfish.

She wanted him with her more than she wanted him to live his life here.

“Chat you realize we can’t tell anyone,” They could make the connection, they would try to stop them, or worse, follow them. If they went to Gotham alone at least they wouldn't have a life outside of this, they could focus wholly on taking down Hawkmoth, and maybe finally succeed, “... we have to run away,”

“Bug a boo that's the fun part,” Chat teases, Marinette couldn't see how leaving her friends and family would be at all fun, “... sorry… I know you’re leaving a lot behind,”

“If you do this-”

“When I do this,” Marinette raises a brow at him, he does it right back.

“We should reveal our identities,”

“Oh no, what a shame,” Chat dramatically ‘faints’, “Damn that makes this so much harder,”

“You know what?” Marinette ‘thoughtfully’ taps her chin, “I can probably find a new Chat Noir,”

“No, no! Sorry,” Chat immediately stands back up, “That’s obviously not why I’m doing this,”

“I know kitty,” Marinette smiles, getting him to relax, “But you need to think this over, I’m… I’m going to go pack,”

“Don’t need to think it over,” Chat smirks, “Claws off!”

“Chat! NO!” Marinette yelps, chiding, before actually processing who it was standing before her, “Adrien?!”

“Uhh, you know me?” Adrien stands there so awkwardly Marinette just burst into laughter, “Ummm,”

“S-sorry it’s it’s just,” Marinette held her sides as she kept cracking up, “Spots off!”

Her transformation fell and at that moment Marinette couldn’t even manage to feel any anxiety at him finding out, the ‘o’ face he made was too priceless. Before she could even think of being nervous Adrien also bursts out laughing, the two ending up as wheezing messes on the rooftop. It took a long while and lots of giggling to calm down.

“Well at least I’m not leaving all my friends behind,” Marinette says to the sky, “That is if you still want to come?”

“Meet you here tomorrow Marinette,” Adrien stands up, offering a hand to Marinette, “Same time,”

“See you kitty,” Marinette waves as they part ways, for now. She had a lot she needed to do today.

Marinette doesn't sleep when she gets home. She searches deep in her draws for that special fabric she put aside. Flips through her sketchbook to find that perfect design she did once. Then gets to work making a pattern. It is well past sunrise by the time she is done. She’s late for school. It doesn't matter anymore.

Not running to class for once she makes sure her parents are free later that night. She’d like to spend all day with them, but Marinette wants to see her friends one last time. She stuffs her bag with all the presents she had made her friends for future birthdays. Might as well give them now. Lila smirks at her as she walks into class, Marinette would usually worry. It doesn't matter anymore.

“Hey girl, I was wondering, Lila said some-” Marinette cuts her off, handing Alya a pile of wrapped gifts.

“Hi, sorry I’ve been busy, kind of went into a design frenzy,” Marinette laughs sheepishly, “I was going to give them at your birthday, but I just couldn't wait,”

“Awe, girl this is amazing!” Alya holds up the jacket Marinette made a few months ago, she hugs Marinette tight, “See I told you, Lila, Marinette's just been busy!”

“Too busy to make me anything, I’m sure,” Lila says, teary eyed.

“Actually no,” Marinette smiles, enjoying the utterly shocked look.

“I made this to welcome you to the class, but then you went to Achu,” Marinette places it down with open hostility, “And, well, there wasn't really an opportunity after that,”

After that Lila has a hard time trying to twist it against her. Even the complaints that the bandanna is so much smaller than everyone else's gifts is weak as it has beautiful embroidery of a fox and ladybug, everyone cooing over how sweet and personal the design is. Back when Marinette actually believed her lie that they could start over and be friends. It also was hard to turn anyone against Marinette as she handed out presents to anyone that walked through the door. Laughing and apologizing for her absence lately, claiming the whole time she was making things for them.

When Adrien came to class they both tried to stifle their laughter. Marinette only gave him one thing, so as not to be suspicious. It would help to have all new clothes when they ran away, she would give the rest to him then. It was a scarf, one she made a while ago with the new addition of a green cat paw in the corner.

Marinette, for all intents and purposes, felt wonderful for the rest of the day. She caught up with her friends, felt closer to them than she had in a while actually. They talked and laughed, Marinette for once not encouraging them to keep quiet, joking along with them, and taking a million pictures. Madame bustier didn't complain much, after all, she had an all-new makeup bag plus more.

It was fun. And the ‘see you tomorrow’ was hollow.

Marinette was dreading going back home. She asked for a special dinner that night, saying she had a special surprise to show them. And special it was, Marinette had made a new dress for her Maman, a more casual version of her wedding dress, with a special Marinette flare, plus a matching outfit for her Papa. They smiled saying it was beautiful, just as they had with her very first design and everything she made since then. They ate together and played video games together.

Marinette asked to look at old photo albums and they spent the rest of the night pouring over them. If she slipped a few out to take with her, neither noticed.

“I love you both,” Marinette hugs them tight, imagining she’ll never see them again.

Even if they do defeat Hawkmoth, Marinette's not sure she’ll make it through the fight. She could be gone for years, or maybe never return to Paris. Marinette didn’t know if she’d ever see them again, this could be it.

“We love you too,” Her Maman smiles, cupping her cheek, “Now go to bed we don't want you to be late for school tomorrow,”

Sorry I will be

Marinette just nods, hugging them one last time before heading upstairs. She packs her bag, full of newly brought or made clothes, clothes for Adrien, food, and whatever cash she had on hand. She leaves a note, saying there's something she has to do, that she loves them both and this is in no way their fault, not to look for her but Marinette doubts they’ll listen. She grabs her bag and the miracle box, saying goodbye to her home and disappearing into the night with Tikki.

By the time she meets up with Adrien Marinette is a sobbing mess. They hug each other. Adrien's not crying but she can sense the deep sadness in him. Tikki hugs her too, getting Marinette to calm down.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Go to Gotham,” Marinette shrugs, that was really the extent of it.

“We have nowhere to go,” Chat hums, trying to act nonchalant about everything,

“I guess this means we’re homeless,” Marinette shrugs again, she had really only planned this for herself, and none of that seemed like a concern.

“We can find an abandoned warehouse, set up shop,”

“Either way we’re going to be pretty busy,” Constantly on the run, either running from someone or running after someone.

“Well, you know what they say,” Chat smirks, “We’ll sleep when this bastard is taken down,”

“You know it,” Marinette smiles, genuinely this time, “Pound it?”

“Pound it,”

---

“After last week we can indeed confirm these attacks are occurring,”

“Oh sure it wasn't like I told you a month ago,” Jason scoffs, getting glared at by Bruce for interrupting.

“Well you have to admit ‘this guy came and destroyed ten blocks’ is pretty unbelievable when everything’s unscratched,” Tim continues to tap away at his computer, “And now we know the cause,”

The footage was shakily taken from the next building over, partly destroyed. With a bright light everything was fixed.

“Magic,” Dick says needlessly.

“Meta humans,” Batman growls, “Not approved and playing at being heroes,”

“Can we really complain if they fix everything after a fight?” Duke speaks up, “The police didn't even report any casualties, they don’t seem to be rookies,”

“Magic makes them reckless,” Batman shuts the argument down, “More so if they can fix everything, what happens when they can’t?”

“So basically you want them out,” Damian cuts in, there was no point arguing over it for however long, Bruce wouldn't allow them to keep roaming the city.

“Yes,” Bruce fixes them all with a hard stare, making it clear this is an order, “When you come in contact tell them they are to leave or be removed,”

They all agreed. Damian wishes he didn’t have to waste his time worrying about some second rate wannabes thinking they could challenge Batman for the protection of Gotham. They couldn't. What did they have that Batman didn’t?

---

A lot was the answer.

Or this particular new villain. It didn’t make any sense, usually, first time villains were easier to deal with, but no, here Robin was watching as Batman fought a losing battle against them. It didn’t help that they were brainwashing civilians, turning them against the rest. Robin was given very specific instructions not to harm them. Hard when they had no such orders.

Robin barely processes that Batman is thrown through a building before the main villain is turning to him. At least he could use more drastic measures with the actual villain, unsheathing his sword Robin lunges. He trades a few blows, unfortunately doing less damage than the villain can do with a singular super powered punch. With super strength, magic and Gotham citizens being steadily taken over this was looking more like a Justice league threat by the second. Everytime the villains should be down for the count they got back up, Damian couldn't find their weakness.

Robin knows he took a wrong step as the villain doesn't rush forward to take advantage but shoots out a beam, the same one Damian had just watch turn a civilian against the rest of his family. And he has no leverage to dodge. This would be so much worse than the civilians, setting his strength against the others? Without concern for killing them? Would Damian remember?

“Watch out!” A wire wraps around Robin, yanking him out of the way. He falls at someone's feet the wire slipping away, he can hear it whirling above him.

Damian sits up, looking to who grabbed him, ready to fight if necessary, and- Loses his breath.

She's standing over him protectively, a makeshift wire shield repelling the beams that had been causing them so much trouble with ease. Like it was second nature. She looks down at him and smiles so gently, without a hint of fear or worry. Promising she has everything under control.

There's something to be said of Batman's intimidating, steady nature. It can put people at ease in its own way and be even more effective at cutting down enemies with a glare. But this? This is warmth, assurance, a steady appearance more in line with Wonder Woman yet still completely it’s own.

“You alright?” She holds out a hand for him.

Damian snaps out of it taking her hand startling at how she actually lifts him up without any effort on his part.

“Chat you ready?”

“Ready my Lady!”

My lady? Who’s Chat?

His answer comes a second later as a spotted container comes crashing down, fracturing the street. In an instant, the wire wraps around the container a hundred times over.

“Now!” My Lady commands.

“Cataclysm!” Chat yells out, the container crumbles under his touch, wire moving in to constrict around the villain.

The villain thrashes, still being able to send out beams wildly and with their minions closing in. Chat breaks off to fend them all off while Robin tries to catch his breath, Batman still in the rubble of a building. My Lady can’t hold the villain back and fight at the same time. Damian struggles to stand up and help her.

“Lucky charm replay!”

Robin cringes at the bright light then watches as another spotted object falls into her hands. It’s a bent tube she looks around for a few seconds before holding it up. Damian rushes forward as a beam races towards her and she makes no effort to dodge. She catches it with the tube sending it back to the villain, it hits them square in the chest with no effect. Lady nods to herself before doing the same with the next beam. This time robin watches as it misses the villain, grazing their ear and sending their ear peice flying off.

“Chat!”

“On it!” Chat Noir catches the earring from midair, calling cataclysm again turning it to dust.

Damian watches not willing to let his jaw drop as the hideous villain transforms into a normal civilian. It’s such an intriguing sight that Robin startles when something flies towards Chat Noir snatching a purple butterfly from the air and pulling it back to My Lady. A few seconds later a white butterfly is flying out a… yo yo?

“Bye bye little butterfly,” She waves the glowing white butterfly away.

That was so cute

“Who are you?” Batman demands having just recovered, motioning for them to circle around them.

“Uh, your welcome,” Chat Noir scoffs, helping the previous villain up.

“I am Ladybug, this is my partner Chat Noir,” Partner? “We’re the previous heroes of Paris,”

“Paris has no heroes,” Batman glares at them, civilians around them still closing in Robin turns his defenses towards them.

“Then that makes the past what six? Seven? Years really awkward,” Chat Noir looks at Ladybug who shrugs, a civilian takes a swing at her she dodges smoothly before throwing the pipe in the air.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” Now Robin's jaw does drop as a thousand glowing ladybugs swarm around the nearby buildings, maybe all of Gotham not even leaving a scratch behind.

“Why are you in Gotham now then?” Batman recovers first, civilians nearby blinking back into reality.

“Hawkmoth has moved his operations to Gotham to feed off the negative emotions here,” well there’s plenty of that here “It makes his Akuma more powerful and we can no longer continue to operate from Paris,”

“Then he’s in Gotham now and is my problem,” our problem “I can handle this,”

“Well you did a great job of that,” Chat Noir rolls his eyes, leaning on his staff, “How's your back by the way?”

“Chat Noir,” Ladybug scowls, then turns to Batman, “You can’t and it’s my responsibility as Ladybug and as guardian of the miraculous,”

“What's that-”

Nightwing is interrupted by a beeping from Chat Noir's ring.

“It would be that, we have to go now,” Chat Noir salutes moving to leave, they tighten their circle surrounding them.

“You will leave Gotham,” Batman demands, this time its Ladybugs turn to glare she tsks and rounds on him, not managing to seem that threatening in her brightly colored costume.

“You don’t know who Hawkmoth is, you don’t know what Akuma are, you don't know about the miraculous, you have no clue about the guardians, you hadn't heard of whats been happening in Paris for years and you don’t know who we are or what we’ve done,” Batman is shocked under the forces of the heroine's righteous fury, “There are things going on here that you don't understand, we are here to stay until hawkmoth is defeated,”

Robin watches as she leaves a shell shocked Batman behind dissapering into Gotham’s night with her partner.

Inspiring

—-

“And why can’t they be in Gotham?” Damian demands from him yet again.

“No metahumans,” Bruce sighs, Damian had been unreasonably stubborn on this front, “They only cause more damage,”

“Actually they repaired a lot,” Damian leans over the desk to glare over that him, “And saved you,”

“Go to bed,” Bruce demands, Alfred busy patching up his wounds. Damian scoffs before storming out of the cave, still half in his robin uniform, “Whats wrong with him?”

“I couldn’t say, master Bruce,” Usually for Alfred that meant he knew exactly what was going on. He tied the final bandage before holding the phone out, “There's a call for you,”

Bruce shrugs on his shirt before answering. It wasn't the phone reserved for business so at least it wouldn't be that big a pain in the neck.

“Bruce,”

Never mind

“Talia,” Bruce growls, going to glare at Alfred who had already made himself scarce, “What do you want?”

“Oh please I’m not up to anything sinister,” Bruce can just imagine her waving him off with a smirk, “This time,”

“But you still want something,” Bruce acknowledged, sinister or not she can cause a lot more trouble without being out too.

“A missing person case, a friend of mine got in touch, her daughter ran away yesterday, l thought it would be right up your alley,”

“Why would you tell me this,” There was obviously more to this, there always was with Talia, “And more importantly why do you care,”

“Oh because she’s Sabine's daughter,” Bruce freezes, a million case files and reports flashing through his mind, none of which outlined a daughter let alone a family, “Surely you’ve heard of Sabine?”

“... We’re on the case,”

“Great, good luck~”

Now he has to worry about potentially one of the most dangerous assassins in the world on the loose. A shift in the shadows catches his eye before disappearing. Great. And now the whole family knew, or would soon.

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

Taglist? nope don’t have one, horrible at keeping track of them sorry~

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous marinette #maribat #Marinette #badass marinette #daminette #good adrien #slow burn #good class

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lokiondisneyplus · 3 years ago

Text

Most Marvel post-credit scenes hint at the future. Loki opted for a blunter approach: the God of Mischief would return in season 2.

Based on the final turn of events, there was really no other choice: Loki (Tom Hiddleston), having journeyed to the furthest point in spacetime with his variant Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) to meet the founder of the TVA, a scientist-turned-survivor-of-multiversal-war known as He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors), finds himself zapped into a new reality when his lady self slays the omnipresent being. The mind reels!

Creator Michael Waldron takes delight in the endless possibilities of Loki’s core premise. And as a veteran of Rick and Morty, he knows what anchors a mind-bending show, and what will keep Hiddleston’s character hurtling through his chaotic, rewritten future. Below, Polygon talks to Waldron about landing on the key choices of Loki season 1, what to expect from season 2, and a bit on his next project, the wrestling drama Heels, which is set to premiere on Aug. 15.

Did you know there’d be a second season of Loki from the beginning or was that choice made later in the process?

Michael Waldron: We always knew that it was a possibility. We always knew that we wanted to propel Loki and these characters out into the MCU after this, into further stories. But that didn’t really crystallize as a sure thing until we were in production and everything. And as we were really figuring out the finale.

So you were still cracking the ending as you shot the show?

There was a hiatus due to the pandemic. So things were constantly being retooled because of that. I think, by and large, everything with He Who Remains and the Sylvie-Loki conflict was always there. But that cliffhanger was the sort of thing that suddenly became a really appealing opportunity, a chance for that to lead into a second season.

What element of the series helped you crack the macro story of Loki, and made all the other pieces fall into place? Each episode almost feels like a standalone adventure, similar to Rick and Morty, but what helped it all click?

The first couple of weeks in the writers room was just laying out the individual episodes. It was very important to me that each episode stood on its own, and you could say “This is the Lamentis episode,” “This is the apocalypse moon episode,” “This is the Void episode.” I didn’t want it to just be cut up chapters and have one long continuous story. Obviously, we had to figure out the time travel for things to slot into place. I think a big idea for us was the way you get around the TVA by hiding in apocalypses. That felt like such a big, cool, exciting idea that it drove the action of episode 2, episode 3, and in a way it’s like Alioth is the ultimate apocalypse that He Who Remains is hiding behind. That sci-fi idea cracked a lot open for us. I know that after we had that I went home and I slept a little sounder.

Did adding the multiverse to the Marvel Cinematic Universe feel like blowing something up or expanding it, in terms of narrative possibilities?

In the same way that after the first couple Iron Man movies, and with the first Avengers, suddenly these movies were kind of going to space. Then we had Guardians. I think of the multiverse as another version of that. It’s new ground to cover, and particularly interesting because characters meeting other versions of themselves and other versions of people they know is... cool. That’s just a cool sci-fi concept! But I think with anything, as you expand outward, it only works if the humanity remains. It’s exciting to watch characters dealing with big crazy multiversal conflicts because we can see ourselves in them. I think you just have to hold on to the humanity that makes these stories work in the first place.

Did you go back to the Thor movies for Loki? Was there anything to find in the past of Marvel as you were paving the future?

Absolutely. I mean I watched them many times, contrary to what Twitter might think because I did some bits on there saying that I’ve never seen Avengers and I upset some people [laughs]. I have seen it many times. “Confirmed: Loki writer has seen Avengers and saw it before writing Loki show.”

In fact, I was watching all these movies on a loop in the writers’ room. I gleaned so much because you watch the evolution of the character. Avengers was particularly informative because our story picks up Loki right after that, but I also I found a lot of inspiration in Thor: The Dark World, a maybe sometimes maligned movie that I actually really enjoy. I just think there’s great stuff with Loki being tangentially responsible for the death of his mother, how he reacts to that. That is the start of his journey of that version of Loki’s redemption, so I was inspired by that.

What’s propelling the characters into season 2? Where are you headed in basic terms?

In season 1, you saw a lot of characters reckoning with and questioning their own glorious purpose, and that glorious purpose changing, [characters] realizing that that can change. Everybody except for Sylvie. I think she holds onto hers, which is vengeance, and to the detriment of us all, perhaps. And we’ve got a Loki who, at the top of our show, assessed himself as a villain and, I would argue, at the end of our show, has become a little bit of a hero. There’s nothing more heroic to me than fighting for the right thing and losing. You see that washing over him as he’s there back at the TVA, after Sylvie has knocked back there. And then he gets up because that is what heroes do — they keep going. So I think that you’re gonna see a Loki that looks at himself in a different way certainly that at the top of this.

Do you hope to explore more of Sylvie’s backstory in season 2?

I guess we’ll see. We certainly have our own rich backstory for her, stuff that didn’t get to make it into the show. Elissa Karasik, our episode 2 writer, wrote a lot of amazing backstory for Sylvia and everything. So those ideas exist out there.

And her version of Thor?

Tune in.

How did He Who Remains come about? Did you bring the character to Marvel or was that a character Marvel hoped to introduce?

I was pushing and our team was pushing early on in the writers’ room that it should be a version of Kang up in that Citadel, sort of fusing the mythology of He Who Remains with a little bit of the Immortus mythology. And that was a thing we were excited to do. And it became clear that it actually made sense for our story. The only way we were going to do it was if it made sense, but it was like, who had a better argument for creating the TVA to prevent other versions of themselves from existing then a guy as evil as Kang the Conqueror?

You wrote the upcoming Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness — did Marvel hire you for that after Loki? Does the movie feel like a continuation of the show?

Yeah, that opportunity came as we were getting ready to start production on Loki. It was a pleasure. I got to work with Sam Raimi, a hero of mine. I was in London for five months making that movie at the top of this year. We had a blast. I think that it’s a continuation in as much as ever every Marvel movie is to some extent a chapter in an ongoing story, but these things are meant to stand alone and the most important thing about Doctor Strange too is making the most kick ass Doctor Strange movie we could.

Is Loki a two-part show now or are you invested in telling a longer story with future seasons beyond season 2?

Time will tell, but I do my hope is that season 1 stands on its own. We always wanted to tell a complete story there. And in whatever the next chapter may be will stand on its own as well.

Your next show, Heels, is already on the way. We got a big preview out of Comic-Con this year, but I’m curious about the scope of this story. You’re starting with two brothers running an independent wrestling franchise, but you’ve dropped the name “Vince McMahon” a few times — is this about the building of an empire? Would you liken it to The Godfather or Breaking Bad?

I always thought about it a little bit of a Scorsese-sort-of rise, and we’ll see if there’s a fall. Starting from humble beginnings and trying to build some crazy. Wrestling was certainly not always the empire that it is and that’s what’s interesting, to watch the evolution of a family-run wrestling business from something you do in your small towns and perhaps a national, even global empire. That would be a really compelling arc for a show over the course of several seasons. I’d be excited to explore that.

What’s the most dramatically fulfilling wrestling moment you’ve witnessed? What’s the bar for the wrestling drama of Heels?

It’s gotta be Hulk Hogan turning heel in the WCW. There was an invasion storyline, these guys from WWF, Kevin Nash and Scott Hall, came over and they were the bad guys. It was at a Pay-per-view and and they were beating up on the good guys that you love, and here comes Hulk Hogan in the yellow and red and he’s the hero. “The Hulk’s gonna get ‘em! The good guy’s here!” And then the Hulk just leg drops Randy Savage. That was the original Red Wedding. I just think about the boldness of turning him heel. To a little kid... I wasn’t even like a massive Hulk fan, but he was just such a mythological figure. What a chance that Hulk Hogan took as a performer, as a bankable kind of movie star at that point. That was bold, risky storytelling and it set off two years of amazing storytelling with Hogan just playing a craven, cowardly heel and just being so evil. I really respect the hell out of them for doing that. That was a great storyline.

#michael waldron #interview #loki #s1 #s2

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obeyme-kaidii-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Drunk

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 1193

Content Warnings - teensy tiny bit of angst, lots of fluff, lots of comfort, lots of drunk Mammon cuddles, platonic cuddling

Prompt/Inspiration - none

Summary - A drunk Mammon stumbles into you bedroom late one night, asking for cuddles.

AO3

You had already been asleep for hours when you heard your bedroom door creak open. It wasn’t uncommon for one of the brothers to sneak into your room in the middle of the night for cuddles, Mammon being the one who seemed to show up most often. You often wondered to yourself why he didn’t just move in there with how frequently you woke up with him beside you.

And this night (morning?) was no different. You rolled over part way so you could get a better view of the door. Unlike usual though, Mammon didn’t walk in on his own and crawl into bed. This time, he just stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame for support. You couldn’t make out his face since he was lit from behind by the hall lights, but it was obvious he was unsteady on his feet.

He was drunk.

“Can I...err...can I sleep witya?” his words slurred a bit as he spoke. He wasn’t completely smashed, but he was definitely more inebriated than you had ever seen him.

“Yeah, of course. Come here,” you rolled over the rest of the way so that your body was fully turned towards the door, and waved Mammon over, “I’m really tired though, so I can’t talk much.”

Without another word, Mammon closed the door behind him and shuffled over to your bed, kicking off his shoes and removing his jacket along the way before finally collapsing into bed beside you, and curling up in your arms.

“Ya smell so good.”

“Ok, thanks,” you said, laughing quietly, “Goodnight Mammon.”

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”, you replied.

“...doya think I’m annoyin’?”

“That’s not really a fair question is it?”, you teased, chuckling at his odd drunken line of questioning.

“Oh.”

“Hey. I enjoy your company if that’s what you’re asking,” you opened your eyes and looked down at him slightly, his head resting against your chest, preventing you from getting a good look at his face. “What’s up? Did something happen?”

“Mmmm just stuff,” he said.

You were beginning to realize this drunkenness might not have been due completely to a fun night out partying like you had initially believed. Something was on his mind, and he was struggling to put it into words.

“Ok, well if you want to talk about the “stuff” I’ll listen,” you replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his head before running your fingers through his hair, “You can always tell me, you know?”

He gave another small grunt, and pulled you closer. You smiled and gave him a gentle squeeze, continuing to comb your fingers through his hair.

“Willya stay?”

“Stay?”

“With me. Ev’one always leaves. Don’ matter what I do. Always.”

By now you were really confused and only growing increasingly concerned for the demon of Greed snuggled up against you.

“I’m not going anywhere Mammon. You’ll always have me.”

He pulled you even closer at your response. You just felt so perfect in his arms, so warm and soft...safe. It had been a long time since Mammon had felt well and truly safe. Aside from the physical dangers that the Devildom posed, he didn’t exactly have many (any) close friends to confide in. Due in part to his status as an Avatar he was sure, but a small voice in his heart always told him it was because of who he was too.

Before you arrived, it wasn’t uncommon for him to stay out late on a regular basis, partying at The Fall, or any other new club that may have popped up over time. The thumping of the bass made it so easy to get himself lost in the music, and so long as he kept paying for drinks, he was never short on company or dance partners.

But now that you were here things were different. He didn’t feel the need to go lose himself like that. And he realized that after he stopped buying the drinks, his circle grew smaller and smaller. He could still be considered the “life of the party” by all means, but no one stuck around as long once the party was over.

At some point he had started heading towards your room in the evening when he would have previously gone out. Something about your presence was soothing to him. Maybe it was in your gentle teasing, and how you always had a smile for him, no matter how much he may have just embarrassed himself. Or maybe it was just the feeling of your fingers in his hair, carding through it as you watched a movie together. Whatever it was exactly didn’t matter. What mattered was that he finally had a friend and someone who’s companionship he treasured.

Tonight however, he had gone out against his better judgment and almost instantly regretted it. Somehow he had gotten caught up in a drinking competition with a rowdy bunch of demons, under the condition that the loser paid. He won of course, but they were bitter about it and he overheard them later talking about how they only kept him around for the drinks, and if he wasn’t going to pay then they’d just hang some place else. And Mammon, of course, decided he would then get as drunk as possible, because clearly that was the best way to deal with feelings.

What Mammon hadn’t counted on though, was just how much of a sad drunk he’d become. And it was those sad, drunken thoughts that had led him to return home and stumble into your bedroom looking for the only comfort he had.

“Wasit like?”

“What’s what like?”, you whispered.

“Love. Whaddoes it feel like?”

“It feels like this, I suppose,” you said, carefully continuing your gentle movements as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Pffft we’re friends.”

“Friends can love each other too, silly. Not all love involves sex you know?”, you replied, laughing. Drunk Mammon was unbearably cute, a fact you’d have to remember for the future.

“Really?”

“Really really.”

Mammon was quiet for a while as he turned your words over in his mind. He hadn’t really thought about it before, if he was being honest. He cared for his brothers, but that was about the extent of things. He also got the impression sometimes that even his brothers wouldn’t want anything to do with him if it wasn’t for their existing relationship. And he certainly never thought someone else would care for him for just being him.

“You know you’ll always have a place with me right?” you asked, breaking the silence, “I’m not sure what happened today, but I’ll always be there for you, ok? You’re very much loved by me, and I’m always glad to see you, even if it’s 3am and you’re drunk and you crawl into my bed to play 20 questions,” you said with a smile, giving Mammon another squeeze.

“Hehe, it hasn’t been 20 questions yet. I gotta ask you more now.”

“Or how about we go to sleep and you can finish in the morning,” if you even remember this conversation, you thought to yourself.

“‘K.”

“Goodnight, Mammon.”

“‘Night.”

#gn!mc #platonic mammon #platonic relationships #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me fluff #mammon fanfic #mammon fluff

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shhhlikeme · 4 years ago

Note

Could i ask for a murasakibara hc or whatever inspires you. Where he and his s/o starts go to the kitchen to get some midnight snacks, if you wanna make things heated sure go for it. Maybe he loves how his shirt looks on them or something

A/N: Whew this got hot 🥵, and I aint mad at it......

Soft Domestic Smut With Murasakibara Atsushi 🍬 🍽 (NSFW 18+)

so this is inspired by my possessed sleeper hc for Murasakibara | so read that first if you want to understand this !!

As previously mentioned, your new boyfriend Atsushi found the solution to your sleeping all over the place problem: when you’re attached to him like a koala, you don’t move a muscle:

no one knows why this is the only way you’ll sleep soundly but who cares.... it works!

So anyway, your boyfriend couldn’t care less— he’s insanely strong and doesn’t even feel your weight when you’re holding onto him like this

Nothing stops him from getting to the kitchen for his nightly snacks, though, so tonight he gets up slowly with you wrapped around him, yawning 🥱 and moving the splayed hair out of your face nonchalantly

As the Purple Skyscraper slowly walks into the kitchen with his koala a sleeping you, he finds that one of the boxes containing his favourite snacks is empty

Awwww 😒 this sucks, he thinks to himself, and then settles for the other snacks you bought him on your last grocery outing

Deciding to eat in the kitchen, Atsushi turns and leans his butt on the counter, munching away contentedly as you sleep soundly in his arms

After eating, the Purple Skyscraper realizes he’s still craving snacks 😒

But he’s craving them more than usual tonight.....

Rationalizing that it’s just because his favourite snack box was empty, Atsushi raids the cupboards again looking for other snacks

Amazingly, he finds the fruity candy he was looking for at first in the back cupboard, silently thanking you because you knew to stock up.

Mura turns to lean on the counter again, eats again, and then groans again when he finishes the entire box because he still isn’t satisfied

He’s hella confused at this point because usually that fruity candy always satiates his late night sweet tooth so that he can go right back to bed........

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.... 😒” Atsushi whines to himself aloud.

Not used to hearing anything while you slept, you yawned

comfortably clinging to your Skyscraper as you slept soundly, the feeling of the voice vibrations coming from his chest on your chest, made you begin to stir a bit in your sleep

Atsushi remembered your presence when you moved then, he quickly quieted himself in a dire attempt to not wake you up.

Holding his breath, he waits for you to find a comfortable position and fall asleep in his arms again

At least, that was the first plan...

But plans changed when your shifting to get comfortable on your boyfriend-tree made your ass softly grind against the tip of his boner

“Shit,” Mura gasped, sucking in a quick breath, the sound consequently making you shift even more.

Your boyfriend resisted a moan as his dick hardened to its maximum capacity.......

Immediately, your slight skimming over his boner allowed Mura to realize why he hadn’t been satisfied by the midnight snacks in the first place tonight:

He wasn’t craving snacks, that is why. Instead.... Tonight, your man was craving sex; he was horny.

Your entire body clinging to him must have blocked the view of Mura’s erection so he didn’t even realize he had been hard

And his mind in the middle of the night is usually hyper focused on snacks, so...... that’s why he missed it mentally

But boy did he realize now.

Especially since you were still shifting on his dick (because usually Mura would be back in bed with you by now, having it usually take him 10 minutes to eat snacks then return to slumber, but he has now been out here with you for over 20 minutes)

Also especially since you were waking and whimpering because you wanted to be back in bed, those small whimpers going straight to your boyfriends cock as it twitched under your ass

Also especially since you must be having a subconscious dream that he was starring in because in-between your whimpers to fight your wake, you began murmuring his name in a sleepy voice that made your boyfriend’s heart race:

“Atsushi.....”

your boyfriend couldn’t take it anymore, he spun the two of the around so that it was now your ass that was barely sitting on the counter.

He was still holding you up, but he used the added support of the counter to slide his hands under your ass in your tiny barely-there sleep shorts, squeezing a bit

Since your legs were already wrapped around him, he leaned both of you back slightly so that he was at the perfect angle to press his throbbing clothed dick to your opening, prodding your entrance agonizingly slowly for him

You were still sleeping, after all 😴

“Ugh, shit...” he whispered, trying to keep his voice down as he rutted against you leisurely.

Mura was the King of teasing himself, so the slow-burn stimulation he was receiving from just this was more than satisfying for now. He buried his face in your neck and breathed heavily, landing slow kisses there

He did everything slowly, but oh so pleasurably

A sigh left your lips in response to the stimulation, still half asleep but loving it nonetheless, you moaned softly

There in that kitchen, Mura rocked his hips slowly, leading the tent in his boxers to form a wet spot due to his precum oozing out the tip

Still clothed, he put a bit more power into his thrusts, barely inserting his dick inside you, groaning when you stirred some more and grinded closer, desiring more penetration even in your slumber

“You don’t have to do anything, baby.. you feel so good even just like this, you can sleep....” Mura let out quietly, landing a lingering kiss on your shoulder.

Atsushi slowed the pace of his thrusting so that you were more relaxed and continued just like that for the next 10 minutes or so 💦

When he felt like he was close from this stimulation, Skyscraper pulled his dick away from you and reached his right hand into his boxers to grip the base of his rock hard cock that hadn’t been touched all night

“Mmmm....” he allowed his eyes to fall shut as he used the hand still on your ass to knead the supple flesh there... ultimately turning himself on even more.

he was so close.

Right when Murasakibara began picking up the pace of his hand job, trembling due to his approaching orgasm—your soft voice stopped him in his tracks.

And it only stopped him because it was your “awake” voice.

“Babe, why’d you stop....?” You inquired.

Mura lifted his head from where it was hidden in your neck to look at you, and what he saw made him almost cum untouched right there.

he saw you looking back at him with half-lidded sleepy eyes that he thought made you look soooo sexy, so sexy that his dick twitched in his hand.

Before he could answer, you spoke again, leaning in to rest your head on his chest encore.

“Inside.......” you hummed. “Bring me back to bed.....and cum inside me.” You finished drowsily, wanting nothing more than sleepy sex with your man.

Atsushi groaned when he heard that, aroused to the highest extent

You didn’t need to tell him twice,!

Removing his hand from his boxers, your boyfriend picked you up with one arm and whisked you away to the bedroom.

.....A lot of firsts occurred that night......

but perhaps the most important of all was that Murasakibara, King of Snacks, finally discovered that the taste of you was way better than any midnight treat he could ever find in the kitchen.

Back to my 2020 KNB Masterlist!

#kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket #knb #kurobas #kurobasque #kuroko’s basketball #kuroko no basket stories #kuroko no basuke scenarios #kuroko no basket imagines #murasakibara x reader #murasakibara atsushi #murasakibara x you #murasakibara x y/n #knb smut #kuroko’s basketball smut #knb headcanons #knb head cannons #knb hcs

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pi-cat000 · 4 years ago

Text

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (1)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters: Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

Inspired by Unforeseen Mayhem by Aerugonian

Here is their tumblr (all their work is so good)

(NEXT)

...

Kakashi thinks he might have died. He remembers the flash of steel and Obito’s face or maybe it had been Madara. His memory of the events leading up to the attack are hazy after receiving one too many hits to the head. What he does remember is the slowly spinning, hypnotic red of a Sharingan, and the quick build-up then explosion of chakra.

Then there was excruciating pain in his left eye and…darkness…

…

Kakashi opens his remaining, usable eye to gaze up at tall angled structures that stretch into a grey overcast sky. He can’t feel the left side of his face, his limbs are numb and unresponsive, and there is the damp of blood soaking through his hair. The bone-deep ache of chakra exhaustion is so all-encompassing that he can barely lift his hand let alone stop the bleeding. Around him, there are several people yelling in shock and surprise. Civilians he vaguely notes as he clings to consciousness. There is no sign of Madera, Obito or any of Kakashi’s allies for that matter.

When his vision dims for a second time he thinks that this, this would be his last breath. Alone, severely injured, in a foreign location and with only civilians as help? It was a death sentence.

He is wrong in the end.

…

Kakashi wakes up in a strange hospital bed surrounded by the strangest people he has ever seen. He also wakes up covered in bandages, his more serious injures either treated or in various stages of recovery.

The air is dry with a distinct lack of chakra. It is something he would usually only see in a prison cell made to contain dangerous shinobi in which chakra draining fuinjutsu arrays were applied to the walls and floor. There are no fuinjutsu arrays here. This is not a prison cell. For one, there is a large window. Secondly, there is a constant stream of doctors, nurses and other patients moving in, out and around the building. Finally, the door to the room is not locked. It doesn’t even have a lock.

After memorising the comings and goings of the people working in the strange hospital, he takes some time to scout. Even while injured and drained of chakra, he has enough skill and experience to avoid the workers and other sickly people he shares his room with.

The world outside his window is one of cement, concrete and brick, with tall imposing structures covered in reflective glass standing higher than any building he has seen before. The closest point of comparison he has are the buildings in the Hidden-Rain and Stone villages but even those are a loose approximation. The hospital is both similar to Konoha’s main hospital, abet a lot bigger and full of strange equipment and technology. The people, despite their lack of chakra, display odd and inconstant abilities, techniques and physical deformities. One of the doctors has a lizard tail and he catches a glimpse of a man with a wooden block for a head. He sees a woman heal a cut with a simple hand wave. Either he is in an unusually elaborate and detailed genjutsu or he is very far away from Kohoha.

Everything is so odd and strange that he is well and truly stumped, leaving him with nothing else to do but quickly return to his hospital room. At least the weird chakra-less people are non-hostiles and willing to provide much needed medical attention. Though he is, as of yet, uncertain about the purpose or motive behind said medical attention seeing as he was a complete unknown to them.

After some consideration, Kakashi decides to wait. He has no idea how he ended up in the place aside from a loose theory that involved his still healing Kamui Sharingan. Additionally, there was no use trying to get back home with stab wounds, his leg broken, his ribs cracked, his shoulder muscles torn and his chakra levels so pathetically low that he’d probably kill himself if he tried.

He takes solace in the fact that his presence, while probably missed to some extent- he likes to think so anyway- wouldn’t impact the outcome of any major conflict. With Naruto’s stubbornness and Sakura’s tenacity, home would be waiting for him, even if he took a bit of time getting there.

…

After a week of information gathering -ie pretending to be unconscious and listening to conversations- Kakashi concludes that the people operating the hospital are relatively harmless. They seem to be under the mistaken impression that Kakashi is a citizen of their village and thus automatically entitled to medical attention. This is despite his lack of identification or history with the place. Such a thing would never happen in Konoha as even civilians were carefully monitored and tracked. Without identification or relatives/friends to vouch for them, a civilian would more likely be thrown out of the village than given what was surely resource-consuming medical treatment. It is lucky for him that there are apparently so many civilians in this village that their shinobi-equivalent forces couldn’t properly keep track of them all. Another point in favour of it not being any sort of hidden-village or any place he was familiar with.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Says the greying, middle-aged man in a white coat as he approaches Kakashi's bed, “You’re finally awake. How do you feel.”

“Ah…a bit tired,” Kakashi plasters on a confused smile, raising his undamaged hand to rub the back of his head, hunching his shoulders for good measure. The perfect image of a disoriented patient.

“What happened? Where am I?”

There was only so much he could achieve be pretending to be unconscious and snooping around at night. It was time to get a real feel for residents of this strange place and figure out his next move. This meant integrating into the local culture.

“No need to worry. You’re in Hosu General Hospital and you’re well on your way to recovery,” A nod and the doctor moves forward to stand beside his bed, “A little drowsiness is a normal side effect of the pain medication we have you on. Now, if I may have your name?”

“Kakashi.” If they hadn’t recognised the Sharingan when they had bandaged it up, then they most likely wouldn’t recognise his name either.

“Well, Kakashi,” The man says with no hint of acknowledgement, “My name is Wada Yasutoki and I’m here to make sure you are recovering properly. Can you tell me if you are feeling any discomfort or pain at the moment?”

“Hmmm…my arm and leg?”

“Would you be able to rate it on a scale of 1 to 10?”

Kakashi thinks for a second and shrugs, “3.” Honestly, he only notices the pain when he’s consciously paying attention.

Another nod and Doctor Wada fusses about, examining the bandages around his shoulder and then his leg, “Well, they seem to be healing as well as any broken limb, maybe even a bit faster. And the stab wound near your chest is almost completely gone.” A thoughtful hum follows the statement. “If not for your left eye I would say you had a healing or regeneration quirk…hmmm…maybe a passive healing factor linked to your quirk…?” Wada looks to him, waiting for confirmation and Kakashi shrugs. From his nightly snooping he knows that ‘quirk’ is the term for the bloodline ability things the people here had.

The Doctor doesn’t press the matter instead asking, “Is there any discomfort in the left side of your face?”

“No.” Kakashi doesn’t want the people here touching his eye any more than necessary. The fact that it is draining charka at its usual sluggish rate was a sign that it was, at least, somewhat functional and that’s good enough for him. He guesses he should be thankful for landing in a place with medicine advanced enough to save it.

“You had us concerned when you didn’t wake after we saw to all your injuries,” The Doctor continues, “Your left eye took quite a bit of damage and we were worried that there might have been some sort of brain injury. If you feel dizzy, lightheaded or confused please, do not hesitate to call a nurse.”

The man shakes his head and sighs, “Now, I understand if you want a bit of space after going through such a traumatic event but if you could provide any details concerning the predicament that ended with you so badly injured it would be a great help to the investigation.”

Kakashi gives a faked confused hum and smiles apologetically, “Sorry Doctor Wada. I'm having trouble remembering much of anything really.”

“Nothing? No details about the potential assailant at all. What they look like? Their quirk?”

“No. Where is Hosu General Hospital by the way?”

His bland expression obviously causes his doctor some concern as he is subjected to a penlight being shone in his uncovered eye.

“It is located in Hosu City, a ward of Tokyo. Where is the last place you remember being?”

The names mean nothing to him. Kakashi schools his features into one of complete confusion, “I don’t remember.”

It’s not even a lie this time.

After the admission, Doctor Wada only grows more concerned and Kakashi is subjected to many reassurances that it is completely normal to forget a few things after a brain injury and that he shouldn’t worry himself too much. The level of comforting and reassuring is a bit much if he is being honest. Never before has he longed for the cold frowns of Konoha’s medic-nin.

“I’ll have to schedule you in for an MRI. If you’re having trouble recalling basic facts alongside your long-term memories, then there might a serious problem.” The older man finally concludes, having run through an extensive list of questions regarding Kakashi’s history all of which he answers with vague half-truths. Where did he grow up? Somewhere with a lot of trees. Did he have any close relatives? He thinks they might have died when he was little. What does he do for a living? Commission work. Did he have any colleagues? He doesn’t know where they are. So on and so forth.

“It’s a shame your ID and phone were missing when they found you. Stolen by the bastard who put you in this situation no doubt,” the Doctor sighs again, “We might have been able to track down your records. Oh well, we’ll do our best with what we have.”

Kakashi doesn’t speak, pretending to be deep in thought. Mentally, he pats himself on the back for an infiltration gone surprisingly well considering his lack of preparation and the flakiness of the ‘sorry I don’t remember my backstory’ excuse.

“I don’t suppose you remember anything about your quirk,” the doctor asks, “Ocular quirks can have odd effects on brain activity and ability to process information. It might give us a place to start.”

From what he had seen, ‘quirks’ tended to have a specific function but he is still trying to figure out their limits. All he knew for sure was that none of them used chakra.

“It’s called the Sharingan.” He offers to see what the doctor does with the information, “I don’t remember much else about it.”

“Hmmm, ‘copy wheel eye’…it’s a descriptive name at least. Maybe a quirk that deals with memorisation or information recall. I will see if I can find it on the Quirk Registry. Hopefully, that will be enough. ”

Kakashi nods loosely in agreement, filing away the fact that there was a Quirk Registry for later contemplation.

(NEXT)

#bnha #bnha fanfic #mha #hatake kakashi #hero killer arc #crossover fic #dimension travel AU #culture shock #boku no academia #naruto #kakashi headcanons

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astriefer · 4 years ago

Note

If you want to, how about prompt 36 with thomastair?? 🤍

Prompt 36 - "Don't move. it'll be okay."

Thank you for this ask!! This is so terribly late but I hope it's enough for you. This is really bad because I had inspiration and then it died and then assignments and family and I'm running late. But... just in time for holiday! So have this piece please 🙏 Didn't check it too much so sorry for type errors and such thank you

TW throwing up and illness.

When the Merry Thieves had gotten the message Thomas wouldn't join them that day, they were suspicious.

"It's not Thomas's handwriting," Matthew said thoughtfully to James and Christopher.

Christopher fixed his spectacles on his nose and took a glance at the parchment. "But who wrote it if not Thomas?"

As always, the group of Thieves (lacking Thomas) was hanging around the Herondale manor. Cordelia and Lucie had gone to train together, and Effie was busy preparing titbits and coffee for them. They waited for Thomas to approach in all his giant glory, half-predicted him to come with Christopher, but he did not arrive. After half an hour, and just as Matthew complained, "Had Thomas gotten himself kidnapped in the course of the night?" a runner came at the front door. The message he carried was what they had been looking at for the past few minutes.

James shrugged. "Alastair, I assume," his golden eyes scanned the carefully written words. "They do live together."

"It claims him to be feeling unwell," Matthew said. "Do you think it's because he finally realized what a nuisance Alastair is?"

James gave him a look. "Matthew."

"It's in good spirits!" Matthew defended, raising his hands. When James still looked at him pointedly, he lowered his hands and murmured. "To some extent."

James sighed. As long as he didn't say it in front of Thomas, Cordelia, or Alastair himself, he concluded it wasn't the worst thing. They were civil with each other's presence, which was progress. He couldn't be mad at Matthew anyhow. He placed the paper down, regarded his friend with a shrug.

"What ho," Christopher said. "Your definitions for good spirits may cross the traditional ones."

"Well, it's not my fault the ordinary interpretations are substantially dull," Matthew retorted.

Christopher hummed and stopped paying attention, seemingly engrossed in a new idea of an invention that must have captured his mind. Matthew gave him a fond smile and then cut his gaze back to James. "So, are we going?"

"Where?" James asked as Matthew stood up. His parabatai straightened his double-breasted waistcoat, which had decorations of an exotic animal on it.

He must have looked dumbfounded because Matthew added kindly, "Oh, Jamie bach," Matthew clicked his tongue at him. "Can you truly believe Thomas is sick?"

"That's what written here," he tapped on the papyrus. Matthew clicked his tongue again. His eyes were shining dangerously. "I know that look. What ill thing your mind hallucinated this time?"

"Everything I think of is a masterpiece, mind you. And clearly," Matthew said, leaning forward in his seat, "He scribbled some poor excuse to spend time with Alastair. But he said he would come. And if he won't come to us, we will come to him. So we shall step up to their flat and demand our Thomas."

"It doesn't sound like Thomas to fake such a thing." James's eye deterred away to the clock on the wall. He had the idea if it was something else, not a possibility of Thomas favoring Alastair's company over theirs, it would die silently.

"It sounds a bit petty," Christopher noted. His hands tapped on the floor, fingers twisting as if he desired to be in Henry's lab and write down his findings.

"It's not," Matthew promised. "We needn't have a reason to see Thomas. Besides, don't you want to tell him about your latest experiment?"

Christopher's eyes lit up at that. He shoved his spectacles up his nose, nodding. "Yes, it would be good. I made some progress he should be filled in about."

"Great!" Matthew commented. "Let's go."

"Poor Kit," James teased as he got up. "You use science to tempt him?"

"I have no clue what you are talking about," Matthew graced him with a brilliant smile."I merely harness the power of science for my good deeds."

~~~~

As it turned out, unwell was an underestimate.

"What are you doing here?" Alastair asked when he opened the door of the flat. James was a bit stunned to see how disheveled and bedraggled he looked, a stark contrast to his usual display. His clothes were rumpled and crumpled and he looked awfully gassed.

The three soon cut free of their astonishment, and Christopher talked first. "Hullo, Alastair. We have come to see Thomas."

Alastair blinked but otherwise remained still. "I delivered you a message. He isn't feeling well."

"We had an essential piece of enlightenment to share with him," Matthew supplied. Alastair gave him an indifferent look.

"He isn't feeling well," Alastair repeated. James started to think it was a bad idea to come - Alastair clearly wasn't fancy to usher them inside. From inside the flat, a smell of soup traveled in the air.

Matthew's green eyes faced Alastair's unabashedly. "Why, let us see him, then. There's nothing our engaging presence can't aid. Tom will be feeling much better if he sees us."

"He needs to rest, not play games with his friends-"

A broad-shouldered figure came behind him, towering over him. " 'm fine."

Matthew wasn't the only one with a twisted interpretation of rudimentary words, apparently. James was fairly sure 'fine' shouldn't mean being so pale or to have big bruises-like black shadows under your eyes; nor did he think someone feeling fine should be looking so lightheaded and sick. Thomas's moss of light brown hair was mussed and tousled. He looked, frankly, even worse than Alastair - sweaty and tapped up.

"Thomas?" James asked.

The tall man shifted his gaze to James rather slowly. Instantaneously he realized Thomas was leaning his hand against the wall for support, and not for the sake of doing it. He was unsteady. "Greetings. I was going to get ready and come by your house, James."

"You should be in bed," Alastair protested.

Thoams's stance was defensive. "I am plenty fine, thank you, I don't need any rest in bed."

A muted sigh escaped Alastair's lips. He glanced at the three of them. "May you put some reason into him? You could at least do that after turning up here."

"I am standing right here," Thomas pointed out. He sounded almost too drained-out to resist. Alastair seemed unimpressed.

Christopher hesitated. "You do look a bit green around the gills, Tom."

"You look liverish, and not in a neat way," Matthew added.

"You have no need to dot on me," Thomas insisted. Annoyance took over his features. "I have rested enough. I shall-"

He cut off abruptly, gagging. He turned over back into the apartment, a hand over his stomach, and ran inside. With a last skeptical glance thrown toward them, Alastair charged after Thomas.

James stood in front of the front door, bewildered, till Matthew passed him and flung the door open for them to enter.

Christopher followed with no protest. "What?" Matthew asked when James shot him a dark look. "They left the door open, thus I regard it as an invitation to permit ourselves inside."

With that philosophy in mind, they passed the corridor into the parlor. Accompany to the horrible sound of vomiting - James guessed it was Thomas's part - they could catch a low, soothing murmur of calming words. Alastair.

"You were wrong," Christopher said as he turned to Matthew. His voice was not self-righteous whatsoever, just matter-of-factly and troubled. "He is feeling ill."

Matthew seemed abashed, just slightly. "I wouldn't have been aghast if told he wanted to spend time with his lover."

They settled themselves nervously on the Aegean-blue sofa. As a few minutes passed - slow, confused, and worried - the sound of retching had finally petered out. They heard the noise of the water goes down the toilet.

"You think we should check whether they are fine?" Christopher asked.

"He honked up all he ate for breakfast. He must need to collect himself, and we should let him - unless you think he can somehow drown himself in the seek of the toilet." Matthew pondered over the last part amusingly.

Christopher seemed satisfied with the answer, and he cut his gaze back to the corridor through Thomas and Alastair had disappeared.

When he finally came back into the parlor, he limply made his way to the sofa, bearly holding himself straight. He hung his head low, sweat pooled on his neck and forehead and glimmered on his cheeks. His face reminded James of a red balloon, shiny and oddly red.

"Are you all right?" James inquired when he finally sat. Thomas made no sudden movements as he decisively faced them. It was clear as day Thomas, by all means, was not all right.

"Yes," he said. Matthew, James, and Christopher exchanged concerned looks between them. Alastair had not returned yet. "I must have eaten something spoiled."

"Are you sure?" Matthew pressed. "You still look dreadful."

"Surely I couldn't guess it," Thomas quipped.

"We can entertain you, though," Matthew pondered, giving him a smirk. "You stay in bed, and we will keep you a worthy company."

Thomas moved in his place, uncomfortable. Christopher, on the other way, smiled at Thomas. "Mam and Aunt Charlotte said I could use the lab tomorrow morning if there will be someone with me. The enclave has an important meeting early that day, and even Henry attends."

Thomas seemed grateful for the change of topic. Mattew said, "We might go and eavesdrop in case something interesting will come up."

"I will be there first thing tomorrow," Thomas avowed, although none of them asked him to. Thomas succumbs to a brutal coughing fit, and It was at that moment Alastair approached from the corridor.

"You need to rest," Alastair chided.

Thomas commnented hastily. "You are over-worried. I am fine."

"You're behaving frivolously," he proclaimed. "You ought to relax and rest, not to run around with your friend as if you are not sick."

"I'm just tired."

Alastair gave him an incredulous stare. "Really, you," he scolded wearily. "Utter madness, what that mouth of you blurts out." The dark-haired man turned over to the kitchen. Then he turned again. Alastair's dark gaze moved to the rest of the Merry Thieves. "You could at least bring a soup or medicine," he countered.

Matthew lifted his arms mockingly as if to surrender. "I am sorry, O great lord, that I didn't know how sick Thomas was. From your message, he could also have a slight headache."

Alastair scoffed and went into the kitchen. Mattew shot a look at Christopher and James, who nodded. he returned his eyes on Thomas.

"Hark, I, for once, agree with Carstairs. An advent I thought I would ever do. But I do think you should stay in bed."

"Shan't." Thomas regarded the idea of being treated by others with disdain. he rubbed his eyes, mumbling under his breath. "I am fine," he insisted. "I can hang out with you."

Alastair came back into the room, placing himself next to the sofa Thomas was resting on. He put down a large bowl. Haze of steams rose from the Broth. "Eat this. Then you go to bed."

Thomas's glare snitched up at him. He rubbed his eyes wearily. "I am fine," he repeated. "I am already feeling better."

The look Alastair gave him made it clear he wasn't buying it. "Bed." Alastair crossed his hands on the chance and his gaze determined. "I am not supposed to teach you how to take care of yourself. So eat the soup and go to bed.

Thomas's grumpy mood seemed to worsen. He would've thrown hands if he hadn't felt so indisposed. "I can take care of myself."

"So don't be so stubborn and do as I say."

"It doesn't sound like taking care of oneself," Thomas grumbled. He coughed again into his forearm."And you're not my mother."

"A very fine observation. No, I'm your partner," he gave Thomas a meaningful look. "So either you eat the soup or expect to get it shoved down your throat."

"That you very better not do."

Christopher looked at Thomas with concern. "You do not look good, Tom. You should rest."

Thomas sighed inconspicuously. It was tenuous confidence he held against them. "You too, kit?"

"As he should," Alastair sneered. He was losing patience. "Stop playing around, and drink your bloody soup."

Thomas grunted, his back straightening. He seemed dizzy and ready to tell Alastair off once again, before he gaped loudly. He must have felt queasy for he scrambled to his feet, fighting his nausea to make it to the bathroom. He almost knocked into a wall.

James glanced at Alastair, who had been mumbling grumpily under his breath, for a moment just watching his swaying partner with distaste. His dark hair flew as he followed him, for the second time since James and the other Marry Thieves arrived, to the bathroom. They followed their ailing friend and the scaling man dashing after him, then looked at each other.

Christopher looked baffled, "Why would Tom resist so much to rest in bed?"

Matthew shrugged, furrowing his brows. "I can't fathom a reason for him to be that way," He cringed as the sounds of retching reverberated from the other room."He's supposed to be the reasonable one between us lot."

"Poor Tom," James said. "Maybe because he is so terribly ill he can't get hold of reality."

In the meantime, James investigated the furnishing of the drawing-room, which was unadorned. He drifted over to a colossal bookcase at the corner of the room, full of books in English, Persian, and Spanish (and some other languages he could not tell). He traced the spines of the books and glanced at his friends. Matthew was animatedly talking with Christopher, who tried to listen, even though it was clear to James that it was only half-hearted. He mused over browsing briefly at a shabby, worn copy of Hamlet when the noises from the other room finally stopped.

After a few minutes with no noises at all coming from the corridor, James stood up. "I will check on them," he told his friend, "Maybe Thomas passed out, or he is in distress."

Matthew and Christopher were up on their feet in the bare minimum of time. "We shall come as well."

"We won't fit there, all of us," James mentioned. Thomas would've felt better if they all would come and help take care of him, he was sure, but facts were facts. "Just let me see if he needs anything from us."

The other thrives reluctantly sat back on the sofa. In quiet, stealthy steps, he headed into the candle-lit corridor. He moved past some doors - their bedrooms, he assumed, or a library, perhaps. He stopped when he reached an open door, meaning to knock first to announce his presence, but it flew his mind when he poked his hand into the bathroom. He absentmindedly noted the porcelain clawfoot tub, the decorated primrose tiles, and the wallpaper - intricate floral trace and lines in moderate colors, which he pondered over who of the two men chose. There was also a high-level cistern toilet, Thomas leaning on its ream seat. A washbasin stood nearby, and Alastair was taking a flannel and dipping it in water before he handed it to Thomas. The unpleasant smell of vomit still stung the air.

Thomas's laid with his half-lidded eyes cracked a bit more open, still regaining his breath, and took the flannel. He managed to wash his face as Alastair took care to clean any mess created. Then he knelt in front of Thomas. Thomas pulled Alastair close weakly, buried his face in Alastair's chest. James could hear he was breathing deep and long, trying to control his upset stomach. He moved very little, very carefully, trying to shield his eyes from the light that shone in the room.

"Tom," Alastair said, surprisingly gently, unlike before. Suddenly James felt he was invading their privacy. "Hold on and cease for once in your life. You need to rest."

Thomas did not move nor talked, and James had the idea he fought back another gagging.

"Hamsar-am," Alastair tried again after Thomas seemed to curb the urge to regurgitate. "Why won't you rest?"

His friend talked tentatively and out of breath, his voice dry and hoarse and quivering. "I don't want everyone to chip around me like I'm some sickly fledgling. If my parents knew, they might even make a silent brother come. Being like this - reminds me of times I was sickly and small and weak. But I am a shadow hunter. I am an adult. I am sick of people thinking I'm incapable of taking care of myself."

James studied Alastair's face. To his grand surprise, he saw his face softens. Tenderly, he pressed their forehead together. "I am more than confidant you can take care of yourself, Thomas. I just try to assist and make you more comfortable, but we go nowhere if you fight me on every single decision. Drinking soup and resting in bed is something all people do. It helps you to get better."

Thomas's eyes were unfocused. "Sorry."

James wasn't certain to what of it all Thomas was sorry for, but Alastair seemed to accept it. He sighed breathly, backing away from Thomas. "It's fine. Just let yourself rest, shall you? I still have a desire to -" he cut off when his eyes captured James, who leaned on the doorframe. "James."

James bolted straight and made sure his countenance revealed nothing as if he did not hear the conversation between the couple. "We will take out leave, see as you go and rest, Tom. We will come to check on you tomorrow."

Someone came behind him, and he found Christopher and Matthew looking into the bathroom. "We will tell Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gideon you are sick," Matthew intervened. "They can bring you some food and take care of you. Lucie will be glad to tell of the last mischiefs of The Beautiful Cordelia. Speaking of which, Lucie will tell her parents, and they will rush to make Brother Zachariah come to visit them-"

"We can also keep quiet," James offered. Thomas's words echoed in his head. He looked at Alastair. "I suppose Alastair can be enough of caretaker. But do tell us if you need anything. Alright, Tom?"

Alastair gave him an odd look, almost appreciation - but not precisely - on Thomas's behalf. The latter had only nodded his thanks and seemed relieved by James's offer.

"Recover quickly," Christopher said, his spectacles reflecting the light. Behind of them was a pair of caring eyes."There is just so much we Thieves can do without our heart."

~~~~

The Merry Thieves bid their goodbye and Alastair went to accompany them out, while Thomas made his way to their bedroom.

They had two bedrooms, one for each of them, despite they spent the nights together. He chose to go to Alastair's room, where his smell was strong and comforting. His steps were fatigue, his mind racing and hammering. The sunlight felt like a blow to his face, making his stomach perilously twist and turn. He wasn't sure he had left any contents to honk up. He was iffy and aching, couldn't find the power to shut the curtains close. Alastair's bed - wide enough for the both of them - was too compelling to resist. He grunted loudly, resting his head on the soft pillows. He felt cold. So cold.

What fought the place of the ill-feeling that settled in every bone of his body was his great dismay from being ill in the first place. Every time he got cold, his parents would worry themselves out as if he still was the sickly child from his childhood days. His friends will all dot on him, Alastair would lay him out for days, everyone will tell him he must rest to heal. And he despised it. He despised it with all his might. Like a rope tightening around his neck, like an invisible cage surrounding him. A cage made of love and care was still a cage, in his mind. Thomas did not like to be incarcerated. This creeping feeling of losing your independence frightened him, reminded him of times he was bedridden, out of necessity for his frequent ill-health.

Thomas didn't notice his eyes were shut until he tilted his head toward a noise - Alastair coming into the room. Thomas heard the door creak quietly, heralding Alastair's presence, and again as he closed it quietly. He felt rather than saw the quilt placed over him, hugging his body, giving a little warmth to the cool world he was in. Not warm enough, however.

"You're lucky you're my favorite," The well-known voice of Alastair mumbled.

They've butted heads around this the whole morning. Thomas refused to stick to bid despite Alastair's stubborn protests. Now, he felt his body turn to halves and his head throbbed as if the Angels gathered and made a party there. He hated Alastair to see him this weak, yet he hated it more to see the pain in his eyes because of his refusals. Thomas stirred in his place, every movement of his head making a new wave of headache hit him. "Stay." He reached his hand and tugged weakly at the fabric of the sleeveshirt of, not truly commending as asking.

"I will. Wait a moment." Thomas's grip went loose and with that, the half-Persian man disappeared again. He shifted, despite his throbbing head, so he could leave some place for Alastair to lay next to him. He moved slowly and painfully, fighting on every inch he could force himself to move. He hearkened Alastair marching back into their bedroom.

He tried to leave some space for Alastair. "Don't move," Alastair's tender voice cut through the void. "It'll be okay." Then a wet cloth softly landing against his forehead.

Cold.

He shivered. He tried to whisper "cold" but he felt no energy left in his body to protest. His eyes were heavy, his tongue even more so. "This is chiefly for your own good," Alastair comforted apologetically. "You are burning." He climbed to bed from the other side of the bed, slipping under the beddings and placing himself close to Thomas. It slipped from Thomas's mind beds had two sides.

Thomas's jumble of thoughts wandered freely anywhere and nowhere - he couldn't put enough effort into imagining, it just made the constant thumping in his head worse. A warm hand was tentatively wrapped around his chest. Alastair put effort into hugging him lightly as possible, offering the warmth Thomas was seeking. He tucked himself a bit closer to Thomas, pressed a soft kiss to his head, then sunk into the bed. The heat Alastair radiated was drugging, and the arm which rested on his chest felt more comforting than any other thing the world could offer. He tried to breathe but the feeling of bile rising in his throat made him stop.

Alastair must have noticed because he backed away from him. "I put a bucket down your side, in case you have any food to get rid of," he acknowledged. His presence was calming and needed. Thomas wanted to apologize for being so stubborn, to tell him he appreciated him and what he did for him. When he tried, he could not force himself to speak up, his vocal cords exhausted, and he wanted nothing but to let his mind slip into nothingness. He could not. Thomas felt drowsy, the strings of sleep dragging him into a feverish slumber.

Alastair removed his arm and his weight abruptly shifted, and the cloth had been taken away from Thomas's forehead. He startled, fighting to open his eyes, and then it was back, cold and piercing, and Alastair returned his hand to hug him. He felt a soft graze against his cheek - Alastair's lips - that ignited fire where it touched, just like his arm, making it a little less freezing. They kept resting in an awful silence for a few more minutes. Thomas had no problem with silence - he even liked it. Yet, knowing Alastair was watching him, concerned, putting everything aside to take care of him, was unbearable for him. He was supposed to see his mother and sibling today. He was excited to see them. Thomas desperately wanted the stillness to evanesce.

"Would you like me to read to you?"

Thomas couldn't quite realize how Alastair knew, but he hummed lowly in agreement. The weight beside him lifted, missed instantly before it came back with a small thump.

Alastair began to read. He desired to look at this chiseled face. When he tried to open his eyes, he found he couldn't. A blazing headache stroke him the moment he cracked them the tiniest bit. "Sorry for ruining today," Thomas sputtered. He didn't think he could force any other words to come up his throat.

"I'm here with you, my day can't be ruined. Even if you have a fever and acts like a stubborn fool." Alastair continued to read, Thomas felt himself being carried away to Lady Sleep, a cruel mistress, sometimes, and also a gentle one, if you approach her the right way. He felt himself falling into her arms, the voice of Alastair guiding him to a safe place in the realm of dreams.

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spookyboywhump · 3 years ago

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This one got long. I was inspired by This Anon so this is a follow up to This Piece

CW: Rape mention, mentions of hand whump, mentions of past mouth whump

***

His right hand had seen quite a bit of damage over the years. It had been broken during his first week with the Whitakers, and then operated on to repair it. He’d broken fingers and split open his knuckles countless times. And now he’d sliced it open, stitches running all across his hand. He was starting to think he would need to learn to use his left hand, just in case it stopped working all together. For now, he kept his eyes on his hand so he wouldn’t have to look at his moms. Now that they were home from the hospital he couldn’t avoid it much longer, they wanted to know what happened, why it had happened, and he had to come up with an explanation now- though every time he tried to think of one, it just sounded ridiculous to him.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said quietly, keeping his eyes down. He wished he hadn’t told Eli he could do this alone, he knew he couldn’t but he also knew he needed to. Eli had seen him angry enough times, he knew what it was like, he knew how and when he’d calm down, and he knew where it came from. His moms didn’t understand that though, how could they when he never told them anything? He didn’t blame them for being concerned, and though he knew it wasn’t a bad thing, he still wished they weren’t, wished they could just ignore him and all the problems that came with him.

“You don’t have to keep apologizing…” His mom said softly.

“We… we know you didn’t mean for it to happen, Zander.” Georgia said, speaking gently with him, as though he were still on the verge of breaking down, like he was a bomb just waiting to go off. He almost wished they were angry with him, it would’ve felt better than this. “You got hurt, and you… maybe overreacted a little bit-”

“I need to clean up the glass.” He tried to get up, but his mom gently grabbed his arm.

“Sit down.” She told him, he wasn’t getting out of this that easily, and he obeyed immediately. Good dog.

“We should’ve talked to you earlier in the day.” Georgia said. “We shouldn’t have waited for it to get bad. I’m sorry.” She said, but he just shrugged.

“I wouldn’t have told you anyway.” He didn’t know how to, the only reasonable path was telling them the truth and he just couldn’t do that. I had a nightmare and the man that raped me, tortured my brother, and tortured the boy I loved was in it. The dream wasn’t about him nor was it about that incident, but he was there and it pissed me off. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, about him, about everything since I woke up. I don’t know how to feel anything other than anger anymore and I snapped at the first major inconvenience. I’m unruly, uncontrollable, disobedient, and I should go back where I came from since I don’t know how to act like a human being anymore. The words were clear in his mind but no, he couldn’t say that, they couldn’t know about that. Not even Wren knew about that, he knew he had to keep it a secret.

“Zander, we want you to talk to us.” His mom said. “And- if not us, somebody else, anybody, a doctor even. None of this is easy, but you can’t get better by bottling it all up inside.”

“I know.” Of course he knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that telling people anything about the past seven years was difficult, he didn’t even expect people to believe any of it if he did tell them. The only person he knew understood was Elias, but he had so many of his own problems that he couldn’t stand the idea of adding to them. “I’m sorry. I… I know I need to control myself better… and talking about any of it is hard… I don’t want to upset anybody and I… I don’t want to act this way… it just happens before I can stop myself…” He murmured.

“That’s why you need help.” Georgia said. “You can’t get better all on your own, but you already know this is just hurting you. That’s what worries us the most- you’re home Zander, you’re safe, but you’re still hurting, you’re hurting yourself. I know it’s not easy, you won’t get better over night, and you won’t return to who you were “before”, but you’re still you, and you’re here, and while we may not know the extent of what you’ve gone through, we do know that after all of it, you deserve to finally be at peace, to finally feel as safe as you are.” She said, before softly adding, “We’ll do everything that we can to make sure you feel that way.”

He sniffed, reaching up to wipe at his eyes with his uninjured hand. He didn’t want to start crying, he hated crying in front of them, but he couldn’t help it. He loved them both so much, and he appreciated their concern but more than anything he just felt guilty for worrying them in the first place. He didn’t know how much he could keep apologizing, but it’s all he wanted to do, tell them I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry over and over again for the pain he caused them. When he lowered his hand his mom reached for it, and he glanced up as she gently squeezed it.

“We want you to know you’re safe, and… and we want to see you happy again, someday.” She said, and she looked so sad it broke his heart, he knew he’d never seen her look like that before all this had happened. “I just miss seeing you smile…”

“I-I… I can’t…” His voice nearly cracked when he said it. He tried to smile, though it was wavering and pathetic, it was still a smile, and he raised his shaking hand up to point at one of his gold canine teeth. “Wh-when I smile… people can see them… it’s n-not so bad when it’s you guys, or Eli, or Alondra b-but… other people get scared, I’ve seen how- how people look at me, they step back, or they- they always look away so quickly… s-sometimes they stare and I… I don’t want people to see them… it’s better if I don’t smile at all…”

“Oh, Zander…” His mom said, giving him a sympathetic look, “You know we can fix that? They’re already fake, they, we can replace them with normal ones, whenever you want.” She said, but he shook his head.

“What’s important is that you feel comfortable, whenever you’re ready we can make sure you get it done.” Georgia said, but he shook his head again. It took him a moment to decide if he really wanted to tell them, but with the subject at hand he felt it was finally somewhat necessary.

“I’m… I’m scared of going to the dentist…” He said slowly. He knew they were confused, it had never been a fear of his before, but he did explain this time. “When… when I got them uh… o-only one of my teeth had been knocked out… the other h-he… he pulled it out… with pliers…” He said quietly, almost flinching when his mother gasped. He decided to leave out Eli’s involvement in it. “But… after that, when he uh, took me to get the fangs… I wasn’t… numbed, or- or put under or anything, th… they just strapped me to a chair… and they did it… I felt everything until I passed out, and afterwards I… didn’t get any painkillers until they more or less stopped hurting…”

“Oh god… Zander, that’s awful…” Georgia sounded horrified, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at either of them.

“I know… I know that won’t happen if I go to the dentist, but… just the thought of it scares me. My chest gets tight and it’s hard to breathe and I just… I can’t do it. I’d rather keep them hidden than get them removed…”

“You don’t have to get them removed until you’re ready… I’m so, so sorry…” His mom said, her voice cracking, and Zander almost wanted to cry.

“Stop apologizing to me… you two didn’t hurt me… I need to apologize for freaking out like that…”

“You’ve apologized enough. What you need is to get some rest now, after the stitches and everything…” His mom said, sounding worried, and he sighed, getting to his feet even though he was still dizzy.

“I need to clean the glass up first. It’s my mess, I need to take care of it.” He said, and this time his moms didn’t stop him from leaving the room. They could probably tell he was desperate to get out of there, and it was best to just give him the space.

It didn’t take long for him to clean up, and after saying Goodnight to his moms, he went back to his room, where Eli was waiting, splayed out on Zander’s bed. He sat up when he came in though, still looking worried.

“Hey… how are you feeling…?” He asked as Zander came and dropped down onto his bed.

“Like shit.” He muttered. “I’m tired of talking about it. They already talked to me.”

“Alright… do you want me to stay?” He asked, and after a moment Zander nodded, Elias moving closer to him. “If you do want to talk about it, I’m here, you know that?” He said, and Zander nodded again.

“Thanks…” He said quietly. He appreciated it, he really did, but that didn’t change the fact he didn’t want to bother Eli with it. The boy had enough problems as it was, Zander had no desire to add to them.

He knew they wanted him to talk, but he just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them truth so why say anything at all? It would only hurt them, upset them, and the last thing he wanted to do was cause them anymore pain. He saw the way the reacted, heard the pain in their voices when he told them about his teeth, and it twisted his stomach into knots, he couldn’t do that again. They didn’t need to know anymore, and he desperately hoped he could keep it that way.

#my writing #my oc’s #wren #zander #Valerie #Georgia #rape mention #they have A Talk #zander learns nothing #shocking absolutely no one

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ridiculousn3sswrites · 3 years ago

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A Ball to Remember - My Princess Pt. 12

*Zendaya x Reader

*Summary: At long last, the Ball is being held in hope that Prince Thomas finds a potential match.

*Warnings: Swearing, anxiety, Kardashian/Jenner slander. Let me know if I missed anything!

*A/N: Outfits are based off of Met Gala 2018 looks for all the celebrities I name drop lmao. It’s fitting since Zendaya’s Met Gala 2018 look inspired this entire thing. Also I seriously fell in love with the dress inspiration for these chapters. Next chapter may have a little smut piece just for fun :)

Tip Jar

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine || Part Ten || Part Eleven || Part Twelve

Dress Inspiration 1 || Dress Inspiration 2

**********

At long last, the night of the ball had finally arrived. The remaining foreign royals had been arriving throughout the day, and the castle was a mess. Different handmaidens and servants were running through the halls, helping with last minute decorating, fetching thing for their employers, anything that would need to be done in the hours leading up to the beginning of the ball. The other royals would be announced as they arrived to the ball, but you were on a schedule. You and Prince Thomas were to be announced last, so you would have a bit more time to get ready than the others.

Zendaya was by your side for most of the day as you were shuttled from appointment to appointment in preparation for the night. She made sure that you weren’t getting too overwhelmed with all the activity that was going on, sneaking you snacks and water throughout the day as you went about your business. You’d tried to set it up so you’d be put into your dress first and then sent to hair and makeup, but for some reason (that the handmaidens had described as ‘wanting you to get the full effect’), you were first sent to makeup, then hair, and then getting put in your dress.

Every step of the process, your handmaidens were gushing over your transformation into a properly formal Princess. You would look to Zendaya for help, but all she could do was smile and shrug her shoulders. Getting your hair and makeup done took a few hours on their own, and then there was the whole matter of getting you into your dress. Corsets, hoop skirts, you were convinced they were all torture devices in their own right (even though you had to admit your waist looked good in the corset). When your handmaidens put the dress on you, however, you understood what they meant about letting you get the full effect.

With your hair pulled back and up, a few pieces framing your face, your makeup light but still giving the right amount of a dramatic look, you already could see things coming together. But then there was your dress - the bodice a navy blue with stars and moons trailing down your sternum, stopping just shy of your navel, the skirt a deeper navy closer to black, the two pieces sewn together with stars accenting your hips.

“Wow,” you gasped, unable to help the little swish of the skirt you just had to do. You looked over at Zendaya, smile bright. “Z, look!”

“I see, my Princess. You look great.” That hint of fondness was there in her eyes and her smile, letting you know that she would tell you the true extent of her approval when the two of you were in somewhat privacy.

“You still have the cape, Princess!” One of your handmaidens reminded you as the other two brought forward the exact piece she was talking about. They secured it around your shoulders, one securing the front clasp while the others worked about making sure it fell perfectly around you. You suddenly understood the seamstress’s frustrations about the detailing she would have to do on the cape, small and large stars spanning pretty much the whole of the cape. You would have to give the seamstress your profuse thanks after the ball was over.

“I think I’m in love,” you said, now doing a full spin to get the full effect. The detailing sparkled underneath the lights, and you could only imagine how it’d look in the candlelight of the ballroom at night. “This is amazing.”

“And to think you didn’t want to go to your fittings,” Zendaya teased. You just looked back at her, pouting.

“Right, we just need to go get your heels and then you’ll be ready,” one of your handmaidens said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You really do look amazing, Princess. You’ve grown to be a fine young woman and the land of Xerin will do well to have you as their queen.”

You were thrown back into the reality of the situation. You weren’t just dressing up in a pretty gown for a ball that was being thrown for no reason, no. You were dressed up for a ball that was acting as your engagement announcement, while you were trying to get your fiance to put his attention towards another eligible princess. You gave the handmaiden a small smile, trying not to let your sudden wave of sadness overtake you. “Thank you. I’m glad to have done you well as your Princess.”

The handmaidens left the room for a few minutes to retrieve the heels, and Zendaya was immediately at your side. She took your hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over the back of your hand. “What’s wrong? What’re you thinking about?”

“What if tonight doesn’t work out? I want to stay here with my people, with you,” you admitted, your breathing starting to pick up as you began to overthink things.

“If it doesn’t work out, then we find another way. Even if I have to go to Xerin with you.” You looked up at Zendaya with wide eyes. You’d never discussed that, and you would never make her leave her home for a foreign land just to follow you.

“You would do that?”

“I would, my Princess. I want to be with you for the rest of my life,” she admitted, looking away for just a second. You could tell she was a little embarrassed at the admission, but it was out there.

“I want to be with you for the rest of my life as well,” you told her. “Can I have a kiss?”

“I wouldn’t want to ruin your lipstick.”

“Please?” Zendaya rolled her eyes but gave in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. It was enough to satisfy you for now, but you’d be asking for more kisses later when you were alone. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Zendaya stepped back, releasing your hand just as the handmaidens returned.

“Princess, we’re going to need you to sit while we put these on,” one of them directed you as another pulled up a chair.

“I need to get ready for the ball as well. My replacement will be here soon,” Zendaya told you as you sat down.

“Lady Zendaya, are you going to be attending as a guest or on duty?” the third handmaiden asked.

“A little bit of both,” Zendaya said with a small smile. “I have duty at the beginning of the night, but after shift change I’m welcome to stay at the ball.”

“Per the Princess’s request, I assume,” the handmaiden teased, looking down at you. You looked away, trying to ignore the heat rising in your face. Sure, she was right, but she didn’t have to call you out like that. “Relax, Princess. It’s nice that you want your friend to enjoy the night as well.”

“Right, yes,” you trailed off, lifting your foot for the handmaiden to slip on the heel. She secured it, repeating the same process for the next heel. Zendaya was the one to help you stand, and you were pleasantly surprised at your newfound height. “Zendaya, I’m almost as tall as you now.”

Zendaya rolled her eyes. “You wish. I’ll see you later.”

Sure enough, as she finished her sentence, there was a knock at the door. She went to answer it, and her replacement was there. Zendaya gave you a nod before leaving the room, leaving you to the whims of your handmaidens. Now that they didn’t have to do anything else to get you ready - only waiting for someone to retrieve you to be announced - the handmaidens went about their gossip. They were talking about people they’d seen arriving - royal families, princesses accompanied by other nobles - just enamoured by the glitz and glam of all these people coming into the castle at once.

“The High Priestess pulled out all the stops for the guest list, I wonder how she managed to convince everyone who came.”

“It’s because she’s the High Priestess. Do you know anyone who could say no to Rihanna?” You were amused at their conversation, knowing how right they were. There were two people you could never say no to - excluding your parents - and that was Rihanna and Zendaya. Rihanna just had that kind of personality that you wanted to go along with her plans.

“You’re not wrong there. Princess, do you have plans with the Prince after the ball?” The little smile the handmaiden gave you made it obvious what kind of plans she was thinking of. You could feel your face getting hot at just the implication.

“No! I don’t know what you mean,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

“But you’re being formally announced tonight, aren’t you guys going to celebrate?”

“You should know the Princess isn’t like that, we haven’t even heard anything about them holding hands,” the oldest handmaiden said. “Perhaps they’re more low-key than we’d hoped.”

“He’s a handsome young man, you could have done worse. Enjoy your youth. Perhaps the ball will provide the right circumstances for the two of you.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed, knowing fully well you were lying. You just hoped the Prince would find someone else to suit his fancy. Before the handmaidens could go any further into their prying, a knock on the door saved you yet again. Instead of Zendaya, as you’d been hoping, Rihanna stood there in her High Priestess formal garb.

“(Y/n), they’re ready for you in the holding room. Most of the others have been announced already,” she told you. “Lady Zendaya and Prince Thomas are already waiting for you there.”

“Thank you,” you told her. The handmaidens helped you up, leading you over to Rihanna. Before leaving, you turned to them. “Thank you for all your help this evening. I greatly appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“We’re more than glad to help you. Enjoy your night.” With that, Rihanna led you out of the room and down the hall.

“Look at you! You look like a proper Princess now,” Rihanna gushed as the two of you walked. “Wow, the seamstress really outdid herself. It’s amazing what she’s done. And look at your cape! Amazing.”

“And yourself? I always forget how amazing the formal garb looks on you,” you complimented right back. Rihanna just waved off your compliment.

“Zendaya’s already seen you, right? What was her reaction?”

“She couldn’t really have a huge one seeing as we were with my handmaidens, but she did compliment me,” you said, looking away with a slight blush.

Rihanna sighed but looked down at you with a smile. “Young love is so cute. Anyways, after you’re announced, find me and I’ll point out our notable visitors.”

“Thank you for all of this, Rihanna. I know it was a lot of work for you.”

“Shush, party planning’s fun,” she said, opening the door for you. Immediately you saw Zendaya there in her formal armor. A couple other guards were stationed around the room - understandable since there were two heirs to the throne to be held there - and then you saw Prince Thomas and Harrison. Prince Thomas had his hand held over the bottom of his face, doing nothing to hide how red his face was.

“He thinks you look great, Princess!” Harrison called out with a smug little smile. Prince Thomas smacked Harrison’s arm, but it did nothing to faze him.

“Thank you,” you said with a laugh. “Though I don’t know if I should thank you or Prince Thomas.”

“Either works,” Harrison said. You went to join Zendaya at her side, highly amused by the two men still bickering.

“See? You look amazing,” Zendaya whispered, using the lessened height difference to her advantage. When you looked up at her, you saw her smug little smile at your flustered state.

“Lady Zendaya, how’s this gonna work? I know they’re gonna be announced together, but what about us?” Harrison asked, dragging the Prince with him.

“Well, you have a choice. You could be announced on your own, or you could walk behind them with me and not be announced,” she told him. “It’s a safety thing that I watch their backs.”

“Alright, so either announce to everyone that I’m single or just relax,” Harrison said. “I’m fine walking with you.”

“Lady Zendaya, it’s time,” one of the guards said. She nodded before looking at you and the Prince.

“Are you guys ready?” You nodded, and despite his face still being pink, Prince Thomas nodded as well. Zendaya led you to where you knew the top of the steps were, and quickly set you and Prince Thomas to be presentable in front of the guests. Prince Thomas offered his arm to you, and you accepted it.

“Announcing for the first time, Princess (y/n) of Xaya and her betrothed, Prince Thomas of Xerin,” the herald bellowed into the hall. The doors opened up in front of you, the soft lights of the candles throughout the room glittered off of the chandelier and the gems throughout the room. Though you couldn’t necessarily see the eyes on you, you could definitely feel them. You put on a bright smile, looking up at Prince Thomas for a moment just to find his gaze already on you. You needed to play the part of the happily betrothed, after all.

As soon as you and the Prince descended the stairs, the chatter rose back up and filled the room. Prince Thomas dropped his arm, just to take your hand in his. You looked at him, wondering what his play was but you couldn’t just take your hand back without someone seeing. “Would you care to dance?”

“I’m sorry, but I need to find the High Priestess. She requested for me to join her after we’re announced, but please, enjoy yourself,” you told him, gesturing towards the festivities. He hesitated, but nodded nonetheless. Zendaya appeared at your side, a hand on your elbow, as soon as he walked away with Harrison.

“I found Rihanna. Are you ready to go with her?” You nodded, and Zendaya led you through the crowd to where Rihanna was. Rihanna had a glass of champagne in hand, watching the ball from the side. You could tell she was just basking in the success of the event so far. “Rihanna, I have the Princess.”

“I see that. Congrats on being officially announced,” Rihanna teased. “Right, come here. You want a drink?”

You nodded, figuring you could have one drink for the night. Rihanna handed you a champagne flute from the table beside her, and you took your spot next to her. “Okay. First we have the most important guests, Queen and King Beyoncé and Shawn Carter.”

“Wait, how’d you get them here? Also, isn’t their Princess still a child?”

“It’s not a party without Bey. And you don’t want to disrespect them by not inviting them here,” Rihanna explained with a smile. “Alright, that over there is Sir Michael B. Jordan, he’s not super important but he is attractive.”

“Rihanna,” Zendaya chastised with a roll of her eyes.

“What? It’s true. There’s King Kanye West,” Rihanna pointed out. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Wait, where’s Queen Kim?”

“They’re having issues at the moment. Like, finding a new Queen type of issues,” Rihanna added in a whisper before pointing out other people. “Lady Cardi, she’s always a blast. Queen Sza, Princess Ariana, Princess Selena, Prince Jaden, Princess Taylor.”

“Wait, who’s that?” you asked, nodding towards a woman laughing and joking with someone.

“Princess Letitia Wright,” Rihanna explained.

“I thought she wasn’t seeing anyone?”

“She isn’t. She’s accompanied by Sir John Boyega since her parents couldn’t make it.”

“I like her. I think she may get along with Prince Thomas,” you said. Rihanna looked at you with a raised brow.

“And how do you suppose that?”

“I just have a feeling. She seems… joyous,” you told her.

“Alright, I’ll see what strings I can pull. Enjoy yourself, anyone else will introduce themselves to you.” Before you could walk away, Rihanna pulled you back. “Watch out for Queen Kim’s siblings, they’re here and you know they cause trouble.”

“Noted.” With that, you and Zendaya ventured back into the crowd. Zendaya wasn’t supposed to be by your side for the time she was on duty - trusting the guards posted around the event to ensure your safety - but she wanted you to at least be with someone before she left your side. You were stopped a few times to congratulate you on your engagement, recognizing some of the people Rihanna had pointed out to you. You were in awe when Queen Beyoncé stopped you with a kind smile, complimenting your dress. As soon as the Queen walked away, Zendaya teased you about your starstruck gaze.

“(Y/n)! Where’d you go off to?” Harrison called out, dragging along Prince Thomas.

“I guess I can leave you with them,” Zendaya said as soon as they were close to you. “I do have to get back to duty.”

“Okay, I’ll see you as soon as you’re off, right?” Zendaya nodded.

“I expect you to save a dance for me,” she told you before turning to the two men approaching you. “I need to get to work, I expect you two will keep her company.”

“Will do, Lady Zendaya!” Harrison readily agreed. Zendaya gave you one last look before going to join the guards at the perimeter of the room. “Princess, you look amazing! You and Thomas should go dance, enjoy your engagement!”

You were shocked at Harrison’s insistence, especially since he knew your plan for the evening, but you didn’t see the point in disagreeing with him. Once again thinking of your image, it would appear odd if you didn’t dance with your betrothed at least once. “I would love to, if the Prince would ask me.”

“Wait, really?” Prince Thomas asked, brightening up at your teasing. You almost laughed at his reaction, but then he came to his senses. He dipped his head down, extending his hand out to you. “Princess (Y/n), would you care to dance?”

“I would love to,” you accepted, taking his hand. Prince Thomas led you to the dance floor where other couples were slow dancing, the string players providing the perfect atmosphere for them. You put your hand to rest on his shoulder, his going to rest on your waist (still at a respectable place).

“You do look amazing tonight, (y/n). I’m sorry for my reaction earlier, but you really just… wow. You’re gorgeous,” Prince Thomas told you, looking away as the blush returned to his face.

“I’ll take your reaction earlier as flattery,” you laughed. Prince Thomas gave you a sheepish smile as he led you through the motions of the dance. You knew there would be people watching you - your first public presentation as an engaged couple would serve as a fair source of entertainment for the others - but you couldn’t say it was bad. You and Prince Thomas were joking around, talking about your memories from the festival and just hanging out with him and Harrison over the past few weeks. One dance flowed into another, and then another, the songs flowing together as you just enjoyed your time with the Prince. Harrison would steal you away for a song or two, but you always ended up with Prince Thomas again.

“I heard you’re leaving after the ball,” you said, wanting to address the rumor.

“Haz and I are going to be leaving in a couple days. We’ve been away from Xerin for quite some time,” Prince Thomas joked.

“It’s going to be quiet around the palace without you two.”

“You know, I do really like you. I know this was arranged, but you’re a wonderful person and I would like to marry you,” Prince Thomas admitted as another song finished. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open the slightest bit, not sure where this was coming from.

“Thomas, I… I don’t know what to say,” you told him, guilt beginning to bloom in your chest.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. Thank you for the dances, (y/n).” He stepped back with a bow, letting you and the others know that you were done dancing with one another for now. You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, unsure what to do with yourself now. He’d actually fallen for you. You hadn’t led him on, had you? Would Rihanna be able to direct him towards Princess Letitia like you’d hoped, or would this just complicate things further?

You were beginning to spiral just the slightest bit, the people surrounding you not helping. You began making your way through the crowd, trying to find something to drink and just calm your nerves. You brushed off Princess Kylie as she tried to greet you, only focused on grounding yourself. Once you found a nice secluded corner, you leaned against the wall, resting your head against the cool stone.

“Princess, are you okay?” someone asked after a few minutes of you taking the chance to just breathe. Opening your eyes, you saw the one person who could always help you. There, in her formal armor, the lights creating a soft halo around her silhouette, was your beloved, worry evident on her face. You shook your head, trying to maintain your calm. Zendaya immediately stepped forward, taking you into her arms. You rested your head against her chest plate, and though it wasn’t the most comfortable thing, you treasured it.

“I’d rather not talk about it right now.”

“Okay. I’m here for you now.” Of course Zendaya knew what you needed to hear.

**********

Tag List: @uncookspaget, @ddesert-rosee, @gangganggg

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

#zendaya x reader #zendaya coleman x reader #zendaya imagine #celebrity imagine #my princess series

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