#and since i can't scream my lungs out and break things i just freeze and cry and hit my head

[dan-sing-in-the-rain]

.

[dirtytransmasc]

the little warrior (spider fic)

What if spider sacrificed himself for jake? what if his family was forced to watch him die? what would spider see in his afterlife?

based off of this post

mother/father is ronal and tonowari, mom/dad is zdog and quaritch. It just feels right in my soul. I didn't beta this, I tried, got bored, and y'all are gonna just have to be ok with that. more notes at the end. 

The shock of spider taking a bullet for jake was enough to stop the entire battlefield in its tracks. Think hector and patrolcus; the RDA had messed with spider a few times before and each time they learned only one thing came form messing with spider, and that was carnage. Spider was the heart and soul of the little platoon, he held it all together, bringing once enemies into one family. They knew that touching a hair on his head would get them all killed, but killing him? They knew to start saying their prayers. The intent was to kill jake, collapse the unit; whether it happened then and there or shortly after the fact, it hadn’t mattered to them. But now there was little hope any of them would make it out of there alive. 

The first to react was Ao’nung, his instinct to protect his baby brother cutting through the shock and hazy disbelief. He has to push past jake to get to his brother before he hits the ground, screaming, curses and prayers alike, all the while. He knows spider knew what he was doing, saw his face ease as he saw jake turn around unscathed, he hated it, hated how selfless his brother was, wanted to scream at him for being so stupid (he never dropped his grudge with jake, it had been months since spider became his brother, but he would never forget what led up to it). But as the fear and adrenaline catch up with spider, his face freezing up as he registered the pain, he can't help but pull him closer and slowly to the ground, trying to ignore the sharp smell of blood, his brother's blood. It’s ok, it’s ok, mama will fix it, I promise she’ll make it better. He frantically hummed an answer, clinging to him as pain blossomed in his chest like a crude burn.

Their parents and sister are quick to follow - a war-seasoned chief, a tsahik, and a healer in training - all 3 trying to stay calm for their son and brother, but its hard when the light and life is so quickly draining from his face. 

he tries to talk to them but between the pain and the blood pooling in his lungs, he can't get anything out. he seeks his mother's hand and his father's touch, but he can't ask for it and his strength is waning so he can't reach for it either. All he can do is listen to his mother's cries, and  focus on his sister's hands on his legs or his father's big hands on his chest. he knows his brother's holding his head up, he tries desperately to keep his eyes open, to follow his coaxing, even if he would much rather settle into the warmth of his hands and let sleep take him. But he knows it would upset him if he went without a fight, that it would break his parents hearts.

His mother is be praying desperately, unable to pull herself way from her child, but her mind too clouded with grief to do much else. Same with his sister though she was attempting to apply what her mother had taught her. His father and brother could only focus on the blood, all the blood, pouring from his chest and his mouth and nose; that and the tears they couldn't wipe because of the mask he so desperately needed. He felt his father trying to keep pressure on the wound but the bleeding went deeper then he could have any effect on, and ao'nung was trying to keep spider airway open so he didn't drown on the blood pooling in his mouth. It hurt. He wanted it to end.

spider can see from just behind his mother, jake and neytiri in each others embrace watching with distant eye as he suffers the same fate as neteyam. it made him feel sorta guilty, but if jake was alive, the battle would live on, and his family had a chance at peace. 

more faces, voices rather, join the scene. he hears his dad, hears reyzi screaming, but she doesn't grow closer. quaritch was struggling to hold her back, begging through his own tears for her to calm, that she could see him, she just needed to be calm for her brother. ravi and ro'eyk are standing next to their adoptive dad, ravi leaning into his arm, seemingly numb, though his anger is boiling him alive, and he's one wrong move away from ripping his skin off and using it to strangle his brothers killer to death. ro'eyk is similar to his brother, the craze in his eyes multiplying by the second as he is forced to watch his baby brother bleed out.

its quaritch who approaches his greiving family first, tapping tonowari's shoulder, their eyes meeting. 

he's too far gone - both of their respective glances say, though neither can voice it. "there's no exit wound, the bleeding is in his lungs," tonowari says quietly, trying to avoid the children's ears "the bleeding is slow, but the damage is done. it won't be quick, but he won't make it back to camp either…" 

quaritch nods, he couldn’t think about how much time his boy had left, or more so, how little. he kneels next to his son, the siblings gathering at his sides. Reyzi takes her brother’s hand, trying to smile when he weakly squeezes back; Ravi nudges against ao’nung, the two had grown close, helping the other boy shift their brother to lay between them; ro’eyk clings close to his dad, one hand holding onto him, the other on spiders leg. 

The sounds are so intense, people speaking, crying, praying, begging. everyone’s moving around him, people are moving him, someones putting pressure on the wound and it hurts like hell. 

his eyes float around; first to his dad, he’s crying, fingers fiddling with the braid behind his ear, miles had put in himself, the beads he carved by hands, spider never took it out. then to his brother’s, seeing his 2 big brothers embracing eachother, ao’nung hiding his face into the crook of ravi’s neck, both boys desperately trying to stay strong, ro’eyk eyes were analyzing him, trying to find a solution, because he was never one to back down. Then it was his mother and father that he looked to, the pain in his mothers eyes as she prayed to Eywa, as she held onto his body as if to hold him there; he’d never seen his father so distraught, like all his strength and was gone, his face no longer holding a sense of calm, there was only pain and anger now. His sisters both held a sense of rage, one he was very familiar with, reyzi wasn’t afriad to turn her anger on the world, but tsireya? He can’t think of a time he’s ever seen her truly angry, let alone filled with wrath, and he feels sorry that his death will introduce to such a horrible feeling. he tries to focus on jake and neytiri, but end up falling on the sully kids, more tears forming in his eyes; he was leaving them again, he was leaving lo’ak alone, kiri without her person, tuk with one less big brother, again. his breaths come fast and he starts to shake as sobs force their way out of his broken body realizes they’re all here, they’re all going to watch him die. 

he's scared, he feels so alone, despite being surrounded by people, because his vision is going and he can barely feel or hear a thing. he just wants to be held, he doesn't care about the wound anymore, he just wants someone to make the cold and pain go away. 

he must have made some sort of noise, a sign of discomfort because the aching stopped; whoever had been putting pressure on the wound let up a little, then his dad is talking to him, leaning over him to speak into his ear, I love you, he says gently, trying to hide the shake in his voice, I love you so much, and spider wants to say it back, he wants to cling to his dad and beg him to make it stop, but he can only stare up at him, weakly nod his head, let the tears fall down his cheeks. He hates this, he hates it so much. 

He closes his eyes for just a second, trying to ease the tired ache in them, but then he hears his mother shriek, feels her hands on his face, my son, she cries over and over again, great mother please, please do not take him. He feels his gut churn as he remembers what neytiri had said the day she lost neteyam. He watches his father try to comfort her, but he knows it would be no use, nothing quells the pain of a mother’s grief. 

He tries to speak again, but chokes, and his chest burns with something awful, he feels his brothers tense beneath him, sobs coming from the younger of the two. He wants to tell her that its ok, to bring her comfort like she has for him the last few months, anything to bring her any amount of ease. Shhh, my child, it’s ok, don’t speak, his father comforts, not even attempting to hide his pain, only focusing on easing his child. Spider tries to not be angry, tries not to scream at the situation; he’s dying and he can’t even say goodbye to his family, can’t talk to them, his body won’t let him, they won’t let him try, it’s not fair. 

There’s movement at his side, his dad is leaving, he doesn’t want him to go. His eyes track him as he scoots behind his brothers, both like his sons in one way or another, wrapping an arm around both of them, ro’eyk joining there little group hug. Reyzi stays where she is, holding his hand, and the gap left by his dad and brother is filled by his mom, 2 of the strongest woman he has ever known embracing eachother like life lines. He’s really happy to see her, he just wishes she wasn’t crying. 

She doesn’t hesitate from kissing the top of his head, pressing her forehead against the mask, the gap between their faces made by the glass lets him see the anguish on her face. How’s my strong boy doing, she says, trying to smile, lighten the mood, despite the pain it causes her. He’d say he’s right as rain, just like she did, but he knew he couldn’t, didn’t think it was worth trying. So he did his best to push into her, to make his need for her comfort known, pulling a sob from his lips as he strained to be closer. She peppered any skin she could get to with kisses, knowing she couldn’t hug him or hold him as she wanted, not without hurting him even more. I’m so sorry, my little soldier, I’m so so sorry, she says to him, as she tries to figure ouu where to put her hands, settling them against the sides of his face. He doesn’t want her to be sorry, his choice is what got him here, her being there wouldn’t have stopped him. 

He hears ikran, assumes the other recoms had spotted the vigil from the skies. He’s pretty sure he heard his mom say something about them letting her go to her boy while they handled the remaining RDA soldiers who hadn’t given up. He saw all of them, all their ikran too, that was good, that meant his family was ok, all of them, that was good. 

Mansk and lyle had gotten close to the sully kids, lo’ak in particular, as kiri was more often too busy her own world to pay them any mind, and neytiri kept tuk close to her, so spider wasn’t surprised when he saw his brother break from jakes hold, running into mansk’s side, accepting lyles arm to hold onto as well. Kiri followed, now that she knew she could in fact wander from her parents grasp without getting pulled back, though she went to zdog instead of following her brother, sitting opposite to reyzi. Hey monkey boy, he wished she said it like she aways did, not in the sad defeated voice that she had. though one thing was the same as always, she had her hand over his heart; she said he was na’vi in his heart, that his body didn’t matter, that to eywa, he would be her child just as much as she and their siblings and the rest of their family were. 

The thought brought him comfort, that he would be with eywa soon, with the people his family had lost over the years. He didn’t want to trade out one for the other, and he definitely didn’t want to think about his family joining him, but there was some amount of peace easing his heart to calm, his breath to come a little slower. Part of him knew that shock was taking hold of him, but chose to let it happen rather then fight it, the calm eased his pain, the lack fo fear let his muscles relax. 

He could tell people were shifting again, which meant more goodbyes, more words he couldn’t understand, more tears. He thinks its jake at his side now, neytiri behind him, tuk somewhere in the mix (he can hear her voice, though he can’t see her). I’m so sorry kid, shouldn’t have been you, you should have let it happen… none of this should have happened… I’m sorry I didn’t apologize sooner. Hearing jake apologize was weird, he never expected one, part of him wanted to keep thinking he didn’t deserve one, cause it was easier to forget what his life used to be like, then to dwell on it. Then tuk was hugging his neck before he could even form a reaction to what jake had said, forcing him to change his chain of thought to her; she shouldn’t be here, not on a battlefield, not watching another brother die, he wanted to push her off, tell her to run and keeping running till she was free of the smoke and rubble. I don’t want yout to go, you already left once, why are you leaving again? She asks, and he has no answer. Why was she still here? 

Someone pulled her away and lo’ak took her place, he looked conflicted, and spider knew why; he didn’t want to regret his last words. Lo’ak was haunted by what he said to neteyam, he didn’t want to suffer that again. I see you, all of you, spider. You will always be my brother, always have been, and no matter what, there was never a moment I didn’t love you, even when I was angry and even if I didn’t act like it, I always love you Spi. even if it was hard, he hung onto every word, he could do that for his brother, after everything, he could do him the decency. He tried to quirk his lips up into a smile, hoping lo’ak would find comfort in it, but lo’ak only started to cry harder, hovering over him, why did you do that, you skawng, though he was probably attempting to scold him, there was no anger in his voice. 

Eventually his brother pulled away, squeezing his shoulder before he rejoined the recoms who were both silently mourning and keep watch over the vigil. they didn’t do goodbyes, so he wasn’t surprised or even disappointed, he almost liked it better this way. He knew they mourned him, knew they would die to avenge him, he didn’t need them to go out of there way to do something that would only bring him more pain. He doesn’t even think he would be able to understand them had they tried.

His last few moments are hazy, his pulse in his ears, and the tears in his eyes so thick he can just barely make out the beginning of eclipse. He knew he was in his father’s arms, he wasn’t talking, not words at least, spider almost thinks he might be humming; it's a song sung to mighty warriors when they fall, as a way to tell them they can rest, that war is over. He knows his mother is next to her mate, sleep now, my little miracle, she's crying, he can barely tell what she's saying, you were the greatest gift I could ever be given, thank you, for being my son, for every moment we shared. his eyes burned, she was thankful for him, when he should be thankful for her, it wasn't right. he was slipping, thinking about his mama took his  away from his focus on staying awake, and suddenly his dad was talking, I'll take care of her spi, don't worry, you go on now, everything will be alright here, his dad comforts, knowing spider is more worried about her than himself. his dad was across from his mother, the both of them holding his hands, their own hands over lapping. He knows zdog is next to him, whispering I love you, over and over again. 

his brother’s were at his head, he could feel someone tucked into his neck, another pressing their head against his, I love you, I love you so much my brother, don't- (you have have to let him go) I… I'm gonna miss you, I'm gonna miss you so much, ao'nung he thinks, then Ravi, then ao'nung again. Ravi was taking care of the younger boy. good, he thinks, his brothers won't be alone. His sisters are gathered at his feet, collapsing in on one another; reyzi’s stiff upright posture and cold, thousand yard stare sticking out eerily amongst his hazy recollection. Kiri looked… peaceful wasn't the right word, she looked like she accepted it, she had tsireya and tuk pulled into her sides, Reyzi was behind her, accepting no comfort; he was sure that if he could get his eyes to focus he would see her wringing her hands, pulling her fingers until they hurt. he wished she would be able to move on, he knew it wasn't possible, it wouldn't be possible for her or her brother's, no matter how well they were holding themselves in the moment. Lo'ak was pacing the stretch of land that acted as an opening to the aclove, he was cursing, punching at the rubble, he didn't deserve this, not again. 

he saw the recoms standing gaurd as well, someone was trying to keep Lo'ak from the rubble, earning a sharp jab to the ribs, which was redirected into in awkward hug of sorts, but he couldn't tell who it was anymore. 

he couldn't tell who anyone was, his vision had faded to much. he whimpered, felt the burn in his chest as a result. he felt like he was sinking away, like when you have the bad dream of falling into the abyss. he was scared, he was so scared, he didn't want to die. he tried to grip onto something, but he's not even sure he was moving, but he felt his bubble get tighter, he tired to remember be wasn't alone. 

the last thing he remembered was a choked cry, probably his mother, and then nothing.

then Neytiri, smiling at him sadly amidst of bright white. no, no it wasn't Neytiri… it was Neteyam, his big-little brother - spider was technically older him, by a little over a year, but aged slower, hense earning him the title of little- big brother and Neteyam the opposite - standing a few feet away from him. 

"I didn't expect to see you so soon." Neteyam talks in a way that is much older and much wiser then his age lets on, more so then he did in life. he keeps his smile, but his voice and eyes let on his sadness. 

"neither did I," spider makes no attempts to move or interact more than he needs to, not until he knows this ain't a trick of his dying mind

"why did you do it, you could have let dad take the hit, he had a better at surviving it," 

"I wasn't letting another person get shot in front of me." 

"It wasn’t your fault brother,” neteyam stepped forward, placing a hand on spiders cheek, wiping a tear he didn’t know was there. 

“Am I really dead?” he asks, wanting to accept that this was really the end, he needed this to be the end, because he couldn’t stay standing much longer. 

“Yes… I’m sor-” Neteyam tensed at the question, 

“No, no thats… that’s good, was just worried… worried I wasn’t gone yet and that my mind would start playing tricks on me.” he closed the gap, leaning into the taller figure, he was tired, he was so tired. “Please, ‘teyam, please tell me this is real.”

He felt himself being pulled down, surrounded in a ligth warmth, almost like a blanket of sand warmed by the light of the sun. he kept his eyes closed, unsure if he wanted to see the space around him, if he wanted to know what would be there. He just clung tight to his big-little brother and prayed The Great Mother showed him mercy. 

“Its’s real, I promise you it’s real, open your eyes.” 

When he did, because he trusted his brother, he was home, he was on a familiar beach, the beach his father would take him to, it was on the far side of the village, a place only really known by the chief and his family. 

“What is this place, spi, it’s the place The Great Mother thinks you should rest, tell me about it.”

“This is where tonowari told me I was his son… it was the family beach in a way… its where me and ao’nung would train and tsireya taught me the stories of our people, where mother taught me to heal. This is my home.” he was too caught up in the relief to think about how neteyam may feel about him considering someone else family. 

“You deserved more time with them, they were good to you,” he spoke softly, tracing his finges in the sand, “you were meant to be theirs, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re brothers. It’s ok spider, I’m happy that you were happy with them, you deserved that.”

“You saw?” 

“Everything, had to watch over you and my other skawng brother, ao’nung too, make sure you didn’t get into to much trouble; though it doesn’t seem I kept that from happening… I watched you all, you did good brother.” 

His stomach dropped. He knows, he knows what he did, why wasn’t he angry.

“I saved him… why aren’t you angry?” 

“Because you were right. You felt the good in him, you saved him, and then let him pick his path. You saved him, all of them, preserved life; thats the way of eywa. By saving him, you brought them all together… and evne if you didn’t, even if he didn’t change, he was your dad spi, he did better then our- my dad… you had every right to want to save him. I can’t judge you for that.” 

This felt wrong, something wasn’t right, there was no way this was going to be this easy. 

“I… I don’t understand.” 

“You will, it takes time.”

“Time?” 

“Eywa will show you what you need to know to find peace, sometimes you need to see what happens first. You were bound to kiri for a reason, you were bound to tonowari and ronal for a reaosn, you were bound to the recoms for a reason. She will show you, it just takes time.” 

Neteyam was holding him by the shoulders now, pulling him into a hug once more. Spider thinks he was crying. “You don’t understand yet, but I am so proud of you spider.”

That’s when spider cracked, he couldn’t do it anymore, he couldn’t stay strong. He crumbled in his brother’s arms, letting him hol all his pieces together. He falls apart into the sand, as his brother moves away from him.

“I have to go now, so do you,” his brother says distantly, spider only catching a glimpse of him before he disappears. 

Before he can even call out for him, he hears another voice, one much more ethereal, layered and consisting of many tones; “you have places to be, my child.”

“What?” he searches the beach for a source, but comes up with nothing. “Who are you?”

“You know who I am,” the voice shifts, sounding almost like his mother

“Mother?” 

“The Mother of mothers I suppose,” the voice was closer to what it had been before, though it kept its feminine pitch

“Eywa.” his voice was more a whisper then anything else, unsure of what should have been obvious. 

“Yes, my child,” a woman appeared, emerging from the forest that surrounded the beach, she looked like his mother, which made some sense. She could look like anything, different to each person, so of course she would take the form of the woman he loved and trusted the most in his life. 

“Where am I going?”

“You ask too many questions, always have,” she smiled, an airiness to her voice, almost like a laugh, “what do our people believe?” 

Oh. “Every person is born twice,” 

“That’s right little one,” the deity came closer, her ‘hand’ caressing his cheek.

He felt his heart begin to race, how that was possible considering he was dead, he didn’t know and didn’t care. He didn’t want to go, he wanted to stay with his family, with neteyam. He wanted to find the other’s, kiri’s mom, his mother’s spirit sisters, his ancestors; human, omatikaya, and metkayina alike. He’s so tired and just wants to stay here, just for a little.

“Don’t worry my child, you,” she points to his head, his mind, “will stay here, your soul,” she points to his chest, “will be reborn. You will rest, but your fire, courage, and loyalty will be given back to the world. You were born to be a great warrior, it is ingrained in you, and you fight for me and all of pandora with all of yourself and all of your strength. You will be sent back to finish what you began, to the end of the war. You will protect you’re family, and you will have my guidance to do so, that I promise.”

He was confused, unsure of how the whole ‘born twice’ thing worked logistically, but he knew better to argue with a mother, let alone The Mother. So he suppressed his weariness, his longing for his family, and accepting Eywa’s task. Little warrior, gift of Eywa. what were once terms of endearment now had meaning.

“Yes, Great Mother,”

“Your mother taught well, she is a good tsahik, her and your father, even the lost spirits that make up your dad, you call him and your mom,” hearing the Na’vi goddess use english words was so unnerving, and he found himself grinning a little harder then he should, and she grinned back in response, “they prepared you well, very well.”

“They did, I am forever greatful for them”

“Of course you are, you are a grateful child, your heart is larger then most, its what a great warrior, the respect you have for the enemy, even when you feel such immense hatred. It is what lead you to save him, what lead your siblings to him, what turned the tides of this battle. It is what made you protect the Toruk Makto, despite the battle he put you through so young. It is you’re heart that will live on…are you ready?” her words were so motherly, it sounded like a story he would hear from his mother, except it was no story, not yet, it was his life. 

“I think,” he was honest with her, he had no idea what was going to happen, and therefore could not honestly tell her if he was afraid or not.

“When your soul is sent back to your family, finding a place to be reborn where it is needed most, you will join your ancestors; you will watch with them, both your living family and your ancestors, you will learn to be a guide as they are and when your soul has returned to you, living its second life, you will be a guide as well. Do you understand my child?” she explained with care.

So that’s what his brother meant, he will see in time, learn what he most learn, be show what he must be shown. He would watch the remainder of his family’s lives, watch the war, watch the effects of his actions play out. He would watch his soul live on, finishing what he began. He would learn from his ancestors, everything he needed to know. Maybe he would learn from his Mother as well, he couldn’t assume this was the last he would be seeing of her. He felt ease wash over him, his Mother embracing him fully now. 

“You will be reborn to her, that I promise. Good luck little warrior.”

And with that the figure disappeared, he felt something leave him, more then just Eywa’s presence, and suddenly he was alone, still on the secluded beach. He had a feeling he had a lot to figure out, and that the tulkun calls in the distance were the calls of his first teacher, Roa.  

~~~

So a few things. The only people I’m sorry for right now are fictional. chest wounds under the right circumstances can be slow inevitable death sentences; I milked that for every ounce of angst I could (his death took at least 10-15 minutes of agony just for a little perspective for him and his family; they couldn’t do anything so they just had to watch him fade). Finally, the only explanation for why the siblings don’t go hog wild immediately (this explanation is for all of 3 people, you know who you are/pos) is because their civility is directly linked to spider. If they don’t stay calm, there will be no stopping them, and they didn’t want spider to see that; basically, the only way they stopped themselves from going ballistic, was to go numb, practically comatose, which will fuel their anger later.

I kept the dialogue limited to put the reader in spider perspective, he’s so out of it he can really only hear what's being said when he’s putting effort into it. Just because the dialogue isn’t mentioned doesn’t mean its happening, which is my nice way of saying; he’s being talked to the whole time, he just isn’t “hearing” it. This is the same for character focus, he’s only really able to pay attention to the activity around him, so characters are only really mentioned when they are actively interacting with him/are the main point of his focus. angst via writing style is my favorite flavor of angst I toiled with the ending of this for like 3 days, I don't love it love it, but I'm content with it. I have complicated feelings for how the spirit world works in canon (as far as we know) and how I want it to work, so we're just gonna take the mess that I created and enjoy it. also eywa is based on my interpretation of our world's 'true mother' who takes many forms and names in different mythologies; think, fun mom, who's crunchy in the cool fun way. like will drive her kid to the ER at 2 in the morning for running a fever, but will also slather them in essential oils the entire way there. is the cool mom that everyone loves and always wants to hang out with. like I didn't want her to seem overly untouchable, so I made her have a mild sense of humor. so enjoy that

[dandelion-wings]

Kaeya and Diluc any of them?

"Any of them" provided far too many choices, so I rolled on a random number generator and got 36! Which leads very easily into one of my favorite tropes. :> Warnings for torture, in generalities, and drowning (and some burning), in specific!

ETA: Now archived, with edits, on AO3.

---

It should have been the branding that made Diluc break.

But the thing is, he knows that Kaeya can *take* burns. He can still remember it all too well: Kaeya, sprawled on the wet cobblestones, his breathing harsh with pain but not a sound but its rattle escaping. He'd looked up at Diluc and all the agony in that gaze had been at the fact of the flames, that Diluc had raised them in the first place, not at the touch of them licking against his skin. He hadn't made a sound the entire time Adelinde had been bandaging him.

He hadn't made a sound when the hot iron touched his skin, either, not the first time, nor the second, not even when they'd come around hours later and laid it cross-wise across the old burns. Diluc had watched through the bars as he breathed slow and hoarse and bit through his lip and refused to scream for his tormentors. There was a strange, terrible pride at knowing they couldn't do worse to Kaeya than he himself had done.

It wasn't the branding. It was the water.

The ice on the water, more to the point. Kaeya's Vision is locked away somewhere else in this hellish little pit of Fatui villainy, likely with Diluc's own. Neither of them have any chance of using them, at that distance. But Diluc's breath still steams in the air when he watches them brand Kaeya, sniggering together about more and more profane suggestions of what marks to leave on him and where. And the tub of water they haul in afterward ices over when they shove Kaeya's head in there.

He fights that, too, the way he hadn't fought the branding, and not just because they have to loosen his bindings more to shove his head under. Diluc watches him struggle fruitlessly under the Vanguard's gauntlet as the hulking Fatuus digs fingers into his hair and pushes down. Diluc watches with his heart in his throat as Kaeya rolls his shoulders, jerks against the ties on his wrists, tries to surge up onto his knees and gets slammed brutally back down and under the water. Ice crackles over the surface of the water with such speed that the Vanguard yelps in surprise.

Yelps and yanks Kaeya's head back up to break it, then shoves him under again. But it's enough time for Diluc to catch his wide eye and his open mouth, the way he'd been gasping for breath in those few seconds before he went back under. He might still have been breathing in on that second shove. Diluc imagines him choking under the merciless pressure of the Vanguard's hand and feels ill.

The branding had hurt him. This could *kill* him, and they might not even mean to do it.

Every second they hold Kaeya's head under feels like a year. Diluc measures it out in heartbeats, coming quicker and quicker as they keep him under. He's trained himself to hold his own breath for a long time under adverse conditions, to endure the growing ache in his lungs past when most people break and gasp for air whether it's there or not. Can Kaeya come anywhere close to matching him? Is he still struggling not to breathe, or is he starting to aspirate water?

Could it freeze there, in his throat or lungs, his Vision's distant response to his panic only killing him faster?

After a breathless eternity, the Vanguard starts to straighten, grunts in annoyance, and brings his other fist down to smash the ice before yanking Kaeya's head up again. There's icicles wound into his hair, a thin sheen of frost on his cheeks, and he's gasping for air, a horrible, wheezing sound, between hollow coughing. Half-melted ice slides from his mouth.

"What do you think, Darknight Hero?" the Bracer who'd been watching this asks, turning to Diluc for the first time since he and his friend brought the tub into the room. Diluc can't see it under his mask, but the sneer is audible. "Does he need a little longer next time?"

Diluc watches Kaeya swallow, draw in another breath, and try to suppress the coughing long enough to give him a look of warning. He'd given Diluc that look yesterday, when the hot iron came out. Or maybe he's even going for the devil-may-care smile from the first day, when it had just been a pair of Cincin Mages with some paltry knives. He can't manage either; he swallows and then doubles over as best as he can with the Vanguard's hand still in his hair, that awful cough rattling out of him again.

Water in his lungs, Diluc thinks grimly, if it *is* water and not still ice. Which means he'll be even less able to hold his breath through a second time around.

"You'll kill him," he warns them.

The Bracer shrugs. "We'll take that risk," he says, flicking a hand at the Vanguard.

Who shoves Kaeya under again. Ice crackles as it refreezes, and Diluc's own breath catches. He bites back his roar of protest--they know from past encounters that he'll bend more for another's sake than his own, but they don't need to know how close he is to breaking right now. His own studious neutrality had put an end to the first day's torture, and the second, once they knew it wasn't creating the leverage they wanted. If he shows that this is affecting him, they'll double down.

He holds his own breath. Counting seconds is impossible with his heartbeat rabbiting in his ears, but if Kaeya *has* trained himself (and anyone who lives on a lake should; he'd discussed with Jean once, in their years as captains together, the thought of mandatory training), then he may well be able to hold out as long as Diluc would. He holds his breath and watches as ice crawls up the Vanguard's now-soaked gauntlet and freezes over the water on the floor. He holds his breath and keeps himself still and tells himself his lungs aren't aching, that Kaeya's twitching under the Vanguard's grip isn't becoming more and more fitful.

They'll pull him out any time now. They have to.

Diluc gasps for breath. He has no choice; he can't hold his breath a second longer. And he *has* trained for that, and he doesn't have water, or ice, in his lungs.

"I'll give you what you want," he growls at the Bracer, hoarse and breathless, surging to his feet and gripping the bars. "Anything at all. But *let him go*."

"Fine by me," the Vanguard says, hauling Kaeya up. He dangles limply from the Vanguard's hand, ominously still.

"If he's dead-"

"See for yourself." In three quick strides the Vanguard is in front of Diluc's cell. He tosses Kaeya into the one beside it, flinging him up against the bars that separate them.

Kaeya tumbles down at the foot of the bars like a ragdoll tossed against a wall. His head cracks audibly against the floor, the sound made all the worse by the ice in his hair shattering. His breath is thin and wheezing, but he *is* breathing. Diluc scrambles over to kneel down where he can reach through the bars and put his hands on Kaeya's chest, feeling its faint rise and fall, pushing as much of the faint heat of his own distant Vision as he can through his hands into that rubbery, cold skin.

Now the Fatui know exactly where to twist his arm to get whatever it is they want. On the other hand, Diluc tells himself, now they have a reason to keep Kaeya alive. He can work with that.

[2fox2furious]

[I decided to post my fic on Tumblr along with AO3 so! Here it is :)]

A Glitch in the System

"Stanley kept walking, as he often did, when—oh, now he's come to a stop. I see. Why did Stanley do this, I'm not fully sure.

"Ah, no I see! Stanley has come across one of his missing co-workers!" The voice paused. "This...was not supposed to occur, but that's nothing to worry about. Just wait there and I can sort this all out—"

"No, Stanley, wait! Don't—ah, nevermind. Stanley approached the figure, excited to see another person finally. And what a handsome person too, you know, he almost reminds me of..."

Another break in the Narrator's speech, before he let out a loud scream. The man in front of Stanley clutched his head, eyes squeezed shut, face contorted into something Stanley understood as a mix of terror and pain. But his brain felt...clearer. Clearer than it had been in a while. It was only then that he realized the screaming, while being that voice he knew so well, wasn't in his head this time.

He approached the person cautiously, reaching for the other man's shoulder. The screaming stopped, but when the other man opened his eyes, Stanley knew something wasn't right.

One of his eyes was a bright green, but the other iris...where it should've been sat a glowing yellow clock.

The man threw his hands down in frustration, blinking furiously. Stanley recognized that shouting voice. "This—no, this wasn't supposed to happen! It's a glitch, a miscalculation...hold on Stanley, I can fix this all, I promise, all I need to do is restart and this will all go back to normal."

No! Stanley didn't want that to happen, he liked this new freedom he felt. He lunged towards the man he thought, no, he now knew was The Narrator, clinging onto his arm as the world grew blurry around him.

When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't sure where he was at first, before his memories from before came flooding back. He remembered, he actually remembered things! And there was sunlight on his face again, real sunlight. How long had it been? He stopped thinking for a second, waiting to hear that familiar voice in his head again, and he heard it. But not from his thoughts.

"No, no! That was supposed to fix everything, I reset it all...this is no good."

Stanley watched as The Narrator turned over his hands, eyes desperately searching this new form. Stanley wanted to speak, to try reassuring The Narrator, but it had been so long since he even had the option to. The words couldn't seem to come to him, so all he could do for now was tilt his head.

"Oh, Stanley, can't you see? Something's wrong. And you, why, you should hate me! All I did was try to set you up on a grand story, an adventure for the ages, but now...oh dear Stanley, it's all gone wrong now. I don't even know where we are..."

Stanley wanted to comfort the Narrator, to tell him everything would be okay, but instead all he could do was pull him into a gentle hug. He felt human enough, but there were still the little things that shattered that illusion: that eye, the faint droning hum that accompanied him, the static shock Stanley recieved when he drew his hand back too quickly. The Narrator only sighed, but he seemed to understand the sentiment.

"Thank you Stanley, you're too kind." He straightened out his tie, a yellow one that reminded Stanley of the Adventure Line™️ from a while back. The Narrator glanced around. "Well, nothing left to do but look around I suppose. A little adventure for the soul couldn't hurt, could it?" Stanley shook his head, smiling. "Exactly! Now onward, let us figure out this new location we've been dropped into."

Stanley went to go follow The Narrator, before something made him freeze. It was like a visual glitch. Instead of the man who'd been previously standing before him, someone—something else stood instead. It couldn't have been human, with it's unnatural height and too many arms and dark grey skin, with glowing yellow lines streaking across it. But... something about it was still so human about it.

It was its face, Stanley realized. It's hair and face were that of The Narrator's, he was certain. But inside where his chest should've been sat exposed cogs, and outside, a pair of ticking clock hands. And wrapped around its mouth was a yellow arrow, neverending in its circling, no discernable start nor end in sight. Stanley opened his mouth to cry out, but before he could, it was like the universe righted itself.

The Narrator stood in front of him once more, head tilted to one side as he fixed Stanley with his strange, glowing eyes. "Stanley? Is something wrong?"

Stanley just shook his head. There was plenty to say, but what else was there to do? He didn't exactly have many options.

The Narrator smiled. "Well then, let's get going shall we?"

Stanley nodded, before following behind him. There were so many things he wanted to know, so many unanswered questions, but first things first; where even were they?

The Narrator certainly didn't know.

"Oh, yes, this is starting to look familiar! That means right over there the—hmm, no, that couldn't be right," he mumbled to himself. "If only we had a handy line right now that could lead us to where we need to go! Wouldn't that be great?" Stanley shook his head and The Narrator sighed, sinking down onto a nearby rock. "No, no I suppose you're right Stanley, that would be no help at all."

Stanley took a seat on the ground across from The Narrator, thankful for his constant chatter to fill the silence. "Although, if I'm being honest with you, Stanley, I don't think I could summon The Adventure Line™️ even if I wanted to. None of my systems have been working and, well, this form wasn't ever meant to see the light of day. Just an idea of an avatar, you understand don't you?" Stanley nodded, and The Narrator let out a bright laugh. "See, I knew you would. It was odd seeing this avatar out and about. It was like seeing a ghost."

Stanley opened his mouth to speak but couldn't, every thought up word catching in his, clogging his throat. He furrowed his eyebrows looking around, before picking up a nearby stick. Slowly, he dug a few words into the soft dirt. [What are you?]

"What am I? Well now that's a hard question. I...I don't fully know. Chunks of code, bits of programming perhaps. I can assure you though Stanley I don't normally look like this."

Stanley flashed back to the glitch he'd seen earlier and decided to drop the subject. If that was closer to what The Narrator normally looked like he was in no rush to find out. He smudged his words in the dirt and started again.

[Why were you in my head?]

"Why was I in your—?" His eyes widened. "Oh, no no, you must understand Stanley, that's just what I do! I narrate, I'm the narrator."

Stanley shook his head, tapping one of the words with his foot.

[Why?]

"I told you, I—"

Stanley jumped up, cutting The Narrator off as he kicked away those words. Dirt and small stones flew as he frantically dug his stick back into the ground. He would need to find a better method of communication later.

[NO. I have not been able to think for a while now, Narrator. I don't know what I sound like anymore. WHY.]

"That... there's a time and place for everything, Stanley, and now is not the time for that." Stanley huffed, turning away from him, but not before he saw frown forming on The Narrator's face. "Are you mad at me, Stanley?"

Stanley sighed. He knew he should be, shouldn't he? After all the resetting, all the falsehoods and tricks, everything...and yet, looking into The Narrator's eyes, Stanley wasn't filled with the rage he should've felt. He shook his head, sitting down next to The Narrator, back pressed up against the rock.

He smiled softly, placing a wrinkled hand on Stanley's shoulder. "You always were a fool, Stanley."

Stanley batted at his hand, but he was smiling along too. They sat like that for a while, basking in the sun and the comfortable silence. He hadn't felt that sort of peace in a long, long time. As much as Stanley wanted to stay like that, he knew they couldn't. They still didn't know where they were, and they needed to find a place to stay before the sun set.

Yawning, he pulled himself to his feet, tugging on the cuff of The Narrator's shirt. He laughed. "I'm coming I'm coming."

The Narrator's clock eye glowed a golden yellow as he hummed to himself. "Let's try this again, shall we?"

Stanley bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited, watching The Narrator closely. His eyes were moving, a motion that would've indicated he was reading something, if he hadn't just been staring off into empty space. "Hmm, no, no that's not it. Oh Stanley, it's no use, it's all blurry and—wait, no, there's something there!" He blinked, the glow fading as he shook his head. "Follow me Stanley!"

Stanley nodded, grinning, and they set off deeper into the dense forest.

[princessfanonanona]

DP Prompt: In a mix up of official documentation, Dani becomes the Ghost King instead of Danny

sdjakfhsajklfhls thank you I love this idea

---

Danny buries his head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

"Danny!" Dani half screams, voice pitching an entire octave higher.

He breaks into full laughter, bending over and clutching his sides.

Dani tries to move closer to shake him but is stopped by the giant cloak that's tangled with the table covered in documents.

Behind them the Observants dash madly about, papers scattered in the air, voices entwining into a cacophony of confused shouting.

"Sorry, sorry, this is just-" Danny braces himself on his knees looking up. The crown on her head falls into her face. He starts laughing again.

"Get me out of this!" she whines, shoving it out of her face.

"You're Eminence," someone says with the tone of regretting every decision that has led them to this point.

Danny chokes on air, cackling. His ability to float the only thing keeping him from being ridiculous on the floor.

Dani snaps her attention to the head eyeball, "what?"

"We need you to-"

"I'm not touching a single paper, you can't make me!" She declares, throwing the crown as far away from her as possible.

Before it hits the wall, it pops back onto her head, covering her face.

"Dannnnyyyyyy!!!!!"

"Your Eminence," another Observant tries in a more beseeching tone.

Another larger pile of papers is dropped onto the desk with a resounding thump.

Danny looks up at the noise before flipping onto his back with more laughter.

"This isn't funny!!" She screeches, lunging forward.

The cloak stops her from getting too far but the force of it jerks the table sending the piles of documents landsliding onto the floor.

The few Observants that have not been panicking launch into action to organize the documents.

The great doors to the office slam open as the head Observant enters with Clockwork at their side.

"What is the meaning of this?" They bellow, effectively freezing everyone but Danny and Dani. The latter throws the crown at their face, who dodges it easily.

Clockwork catches the crown, letting it float beside their own head.

Danny hiccups on his laughter turned to quiet snickering.

"You absolute shitstain!" she screams, "This is all your fault!!"

The head Observant studies the chaos before turning to Clockwork. "Dare I even say it?"

"I have no recollection of what you are referring to," Clockwork responds, gliding forward to place the crown onto Dani's head.

"I don't want it," she huffs, crossing her arms. 

"Daniel," they say, turning to the boy.

"Hi Grandfather," he says, giggling his way into an embrace.

"This is of utmost importance," they say with a stern face.

Danny looks up, with a nod, biting his bottom lip to stop the giggles.

"You must answer with complete sincerity."

"Ye-yeah hehe, I can do that," he pulls away, trying and failing to school his expression.

"Did you or did you not put your name into the goblet of fire?"

Danny and Dani blink.

"Pfff-" he snorts into new laughter as Dani smiles for the first time since she was introduced to the paperwork.

"Clockwork!" The head Observant reprimands.

"Yes, Grumbelbore?" Clockwork turns.

The single eye twitches making the whole head twitch.

"That's not my name," they hiss. They move closer to jab a finger into the glass on Clockwork's chest. “Need I remind you that you were brought here to fix this mess!”

“Ah,” Clockwork smiles, placing a hand on the other’s hand to push it away from themself. “And may I remind you that this is a mess of your own results.”

“How dare-” they bristle, aura flaring in anger.

Clockwork shifts to that of their toddler form, raising a hand and pulling several papers from the various piles. They drift lazily to form a line between the two ghosts.

“An error,” Clockwork states, turning to face the children, “That was not corrected despite my many warnings.”

“You never-”

Three of the documents flit into the Observant’s face.

“My warnings, dated and accounted for,” they state, placing a gentle hand on Dani’s head.

“These were dated last century,” they snap, snatching the papers out of the air.

“Not my fault you did not read them,” Clockwork shrugs.

“Your warnings,” they hiss, snapping one straight to read, “Are vague and useless. ‘The soul’s most sacred aspect is naught but the name in any form’.”

“It is not I who spelt young Daniel’s name wrong 42 times.”

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Since you started working in the castle, you’ve experienced many things.

You’ve seen other maids get slashed for nothing. You’ve seen the daughters lick a sickle covered in blood, break into a swarm of insects and then materialize someplace else. You’ve heard of the tormented wailing they cause in the dungeons.

They're things that you thought would haunt you, day and night, until you couldn’t function properly anymore. And yet. You found you could somehow still focus on your work despite it all.

How ironic is it that, in the end, it is a kiss that threatens to break your mind?

You used to think only of your survival before it, of studying routes for a potential escape. Now you can hardly focus on polishing a single goblet without getting distracted. You see her everywhere you turn, even when she’s not there. When you close your eyes at night, you can still feel her sigh against your lips.

It’s driving you crazy. She’s driving you to madness.

You don’t understand it. Any of it. It doesn’t make sense for your mind to be so stuck on someone you fear. Not unless a screw has gotten severely loose in your own head. A very possible scenario and one you don’t want to entertain.

The only semi logical explanation you’ve come up with –actually, the only one that lets you sleep at night– is that you’re subconsciously trying to humanize Cassandra. To see her as something you want rather than someone you despise, turn a negative into a positive, terror into desire. To make your life, what has become of it anyway, more bearable for you.

Yeah. You go with that.

At dinner, you keep your eyes down unless Lady Dimitrescu calls for more wine, but you can feel Cassandra’s piercing gaze on you almost like a physical touch. For two nights in a row you hear her graceful steps approach while you’re doing the dishes, but someone always calls for her before she reaches remotely near you.

And you’re glad for that.

Right?

On the third evening, while you’re tiredly walking back to your room after eight long hours of work, an arm shoots out of the shadows, grabs your wrist and pulls you off your path.

You nearly shout, but something soft, cold and unyielding covers your mouth. Your heart is giving painful kicks in your chest, your eyes are wide, frantically trying to adjust to the dark chamber. You start to calm only when you smell her perfume, but perhaps you shouldn’t.

“Relax, it’s me.” she says, like that's assuring.

You blink several times; your sight adjusts just enough to make out her hooded outline, thanks to the faint moonlight dispersing into the room from behind the nearest closed curtain.

Cassandra removes her hand from your lips once she’s sure you won’t scream.

“Hi.” she greets with what you guess is a smile.

It would perhaps be slightly endearing if she wasn’t your captor, hadn’t just startled you half to death and wasn’t dressed like the grim reaper in the pitch-black.

“H-hi.” you say back. It takes a ton of willpower not to curl in on yourself. You’re not even sure you succeed.

“Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark.” she teases, poking your shoulder. You want to tell her it’s mostly her that scares the shit out of you, but you’re not that courageous nor that stupid. “I thought you a little braver than that.”

Your lips fall open. “Why?” you speak before you think and there’s probably something in your expression that makes her giggle.

Cassandra zooms to the window and pushes the curtain to the side, slightly. “Better now, my scaredy-cat?”

“Yes, thank you.” you reply, trying hard to bypass the possessiveness in her remark and what it does to your stomach.

“Good because you need to stop shaking. I don’t have much time.” Cassandra huffs. Before you can even think to say anything, her gloved fingers tug on your shirt, a tad rough, then shove you into an armchair.

You yelp, the air momentarily knocked out of your lungs, but then her gentle weight settles into your lap and you freeze. A big part of your brain shuts down on the spot. Cassandra leans close and the angle allows the moonlight to caresses her face underneath the shadows of her hood. Its pale grace makes her look softer than usual, the gold of her eyes glowing like twin embers….

“You and I have things to discuss away from prying ears.” A thumb and pointer trap your chin in place. You're all too aware of the fact a squeeze from her is what it takes for you to never be able to talk again.

“Do you know how I wanted to get you alone like this, all to myself?” she husks, lightly biting the shell of your ear. The sting gets your blood rushing faster in your system but you aren’t cut. Yet. “Did you think about me?”

Cassandra, slow and methodical, moves further in. For a moment you think she’s going to kiss you, yet she grazes her lips against your jawline instead –it makes you shiver– until they’re right by your ear. Your knuckles curl white on the cushioned arms. Already you feel the hot caress of arousal pool low in your stomach.

And you hate it.

You don’t want to admit it out loud that you did. To either of you. Your silence seems to irk her, though, because a sharp nip comes at your pulse. “Ah! …I did.” The shameful truth instantly spills from your lips.

“Yes?” She pulls back until you’re eye to eye, lip to lip.

Having her like this on top of you now, eyes gleaming, mouth glistening and oh-so-inviting, you wonder why you ever thought you were strong enough to resist temptation.

“...Yes.”

Cassandra kisses you.

The sensation is every bit as thrilling as you remember. Rousing, like licking a double-edged knife and coming out of it uncut. It is all danger, suspension over fire, without knowing if you’ll end up warmed or burned.

The first kiss was a tiny taste of the forbidden fruit. This one is you delving right into its ripe flesh, accepting you’re already hooked. Yes, you may die. But you weren’t really living since you were brought into the castle, either.

Cassandra is busy sucking on your lower lip when her back tenses under your fingers. Begrudgingly, she pulls herself back, neck turned a tad to the right, listening in for something you cannot hope to hear.

You finally remember what it feels to be alive underneath her slippery lips and breathy little moans, her cold fingers that grip at your throat and clothes like they have yet to decide which of the two they want to rip off. You're sure bruises will be left in the morning.

"Ugh. Daniela is being impatient again." she huffs, borderline irritated. "Gotta go."

You can't exactly stop her. You're not even sure you'd want to, even if you could. "Okay." is about all you can really say.

"Dream of me." she smirks, fingers trailing over your chin as she rises. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She waves, full of charm, a nightmare that somehow shifted into a pleasant dream. Then she's gone, leaving you alone in the dark. Your body laments the loss but your nerves are wiser, finally easing.

For once, however, the prospect of tomorrow doesn't fill you with only dread.

[jaesvelvet]

aparecium — takata mashiho

warnings: grammartical errors

words: 1.8k words

pairing: hufflepuff headboy mashiho! + fem reader

notes: this is my first hogwarts imagine of treasure.... i hope you guys enjoy this!!!

You quickly close your thick black book as Professor Flitwick walks towards your table, hiding the book under the table, and practices the charms he has been taught for that day.

"Give it a flick, Y/N" Professor Flitwick said

"Ascendio" you point to the feather in front of you, lifting it.

Professor Flitwick nods, murmuring a good job to you before passing through you.

You sigh in relief the professor is cool unlike Professor Snape, he surely will take the books and read what you've been writing on in front of the class.

"Mashi! Help me" you look up to the person who calls Mashi or Mashiho. You smile as the boy in the yellow tie helps the boy with their spell. You head over heels towards the head boy of the Hufflepuff, in your eyes, he is like Ron Weasley to your Hermione Granger.

Mashiho is boyfriend material, he is head boy, teacher's pet, he is the seeker in Quidditch, and one of the students who take NEWT. Everyone knows it is hard to study for NEWT, and yet this boy takes the NEWT like it's nothing to him, nobody has ever seen him struggle studying NEWT. He is indeed Hermione number 2.

"Okay, class dismissed, for those who take NEWT, there's only a month left since your examination, I hope you are all prepared and of course you welcome to my office if you need any help" Professor Flitwick announce class about NEWT making you sigh. Yes, you are one of the students who take NEWT, at first you want to take O.W.L instead of NEWT but your mom said it will be great if you try to take the exam, and here you are struggling to get a good grade for your final year in Hogwarts.

You left the class and walk towards the library, it is your free time, you are willing to study for the upcoming exam than joining your friend watching Quidditch training.

You enter the library, feeling calm by the silence, you making your way to the potion section to study more about potions that you need to do on your examination soon.

You frown as you see the book you've been searching for is on the top of the shelf, you tiptoe to reach the shelf, but who are we kidding here? The top shelf is too high for you like in a usual k-drama scene, someone grabs the book you make you turn around, eyes getting bigger when you realized the person that helps you.

"Mashi?"

"You know, it's your last year in Hogwarts, why don’t you just cast Wingardium Leviosa?" he asks, handing you the book while showing you his sly smile

"Uh, we can't depend on everything on magic you know?" you answer

"I see, you're an independent girl," he said making you blush, you also didn't know why you're blushing at his word? Perhaps he talking to you while being this close making you shy?

"Uh, thanks? I guess?"

Mashiho laughs at your awkwardness

"You take NEWT too right? Why don't we study together?" he offers.

Now your brain is malfunctioning. Mashiho offers you to study together?? Is this not a dream? You mentally slap yourself and look at him again

"Sure, what do you want to study?" you ask

"Potion. I need to pass if I don't want to see Professor Snape's face again" he said making you chuckle, a teacher's pet tattle behind them? Impressive.

"Yeah me too," you said and he leads you to his usual spot.

“So Y/N tell me why you take NEWT?” he asks. You raised your brow to him, did he just... Underestimate you?

“Uh, don’t misconstrue my words. I'm just curious since almost all students at Hogwarts refuse to take NEWT and you take– you know what? Just ignore my question” he said, his face turns slightly red making you smile, you can’t be mad at him for too long, he is so cute! You just wanna pinch his cheek.

“Well my mom made me, and I thought it’s not hurt to give it a try” you answers

“Well, your parents must be proud of you for study hard, I admit this exam is so hard I felt like crying when I study the same chapter again and again,” he said

You are surprised to see he is openly sharing his thought with you, well you’re not that close with him and even his friends doesn’t know he is struggling to get a good grade.

“I heard a rumor that you never struggle at study but I guess it’s all wrong then”

“Well, I don’t think showing my struggle changes anything? I don’t even know who’s spread all the news, why don’t they just minding their own business?” he whines

“Yeah, true” you replied, and focusing on your book, but in your head, you already screaming at the top of your lungs because Mashiho is so cute when focusing on something. You were surprised you didn’t explode at this point.

+.*

A week passes since you and Mashiho’s studying together in the library, it was a good day because after that he offers you to eat dinner together with him. You couldn’t stop thinking about that day if only there's a spell to freeze time.

Secretly bringing out your thick black book, you open to the blank space and writes something on the page using invisible ink. There’s one thing you like about magic, you can do whatever you want without others knowing.

“Oi” your friend whispers to you, scrunching her face seeing you doing something else instead of brewing a potion

“What?” you whisper back, your hands still jotting something on the book

“Snape will kill you if he saw you do something else, you fool!” she slaps your hand, you roll your eyes, you didn’t prefer to study now because since morning you have class nonstop. You can't take it anymore all you need now is rest or a hot bath.

“Ugh fine,” you said and put your book above some random book.

A sigh comes out from your mouth and continues to brew your veritaserum— the truth serum for your NEWT, you lazily stir the potion that looks like water, you wonder if someone drinks a drop of this potion how much truth will they spill out? Since Professor Snape said that 3 drops of this serum are enough to make a person reveals their deepest secret, this potion is scary no wonder the process is difficult.

You heard a laugh from across your table making you look up, your exhausted body feels recharged by his laugh. Mashiho’s laugh, you smile seeing him joking around with his friends which later being scolded by Professor Snape, he noticed you look at him and wink at you.

You feel like time stop for a moment, did he just wink at you? Gosh, he really driving you crazy.

You break the gaze and focusing on your potion, frustrated by his wink.

Minutes later, Snape dismissed the class and Mashiho walks towards you

Why? Why is he coming here? You thought

“Y/N, you free this evening?” he asks

You slowly nod your head, although you don’t want to go anywhere and rather spent your day in your dorm, you still nod to his question like hypnotized by his gaze.

“Cool, so do you want to study together again? You great at potions, really” Mashiho said

You blushing. Again. You thought he must think you a fool, blushing for no reason.

“Ah yes I would love to!” you said

“So, I meet you at 5, in the library?”

“5 it is” you answers and take your books while smiling at him.

+.*

Your chest becomes tight as it becomes hard to breathe, you wander around your dorm, as you realized you take the wrong book! This black book on your bed is not yours. It fills with some charms and potions notes. Your book is empty— well not empty, it’s just written in invisible ink. But still, you feel nervous if someone cast an aparecium spell on it, which is a spell to reveal secret messages that are written with invisible ink.

You take the book and run towards the potion class, hoping the book will be at the last place you put it.

“Professor Snape” you pants, holding on your chest catching on your breathing.

“What did you want L/N?” he asks in a monotonous tone

“Did you see my black book here?” you ask

“Is your responsibility to take care of your things L/N. There’s nothing here” he said sternly

You mentally roll your eyes at him, he could say no and you don’t waste your time here and search for your book.

“Alright, thank you, professor,” you said and your looks at your watch it was already 5 pm.

“Oh shoot, Mashi must be waiting for me,” you said and running again to the library.

You assume you will die anytime soon if you keep running like this, you enter the library and catching your breath before approaching Mashiho at his usual place.

“Hey” he frowns when he sees your forehead cover with sweat.

“Did you run?” he asks

“Uh yes, I’m afraid if I'm late,” you said and wipe your sweat using your sleeve

Mashiho let out a chuckle

“I don’t mind waiting, you shouldn't run you could fall,” he said

You smile at him, you could feel butterflies in your stomach. How is he even real?

“Oh, before we start– um I think we exchanged books at potion earlier” he hands you the black book that you have been searching this entire evening

“Oh my, you’re life savior— wait how did you know this is my book?” you raise one brow to him, you didn’t write your name in this book unless...

“I’m sorry I didn't mean to cast that spell but I need to know who's this book belongs to! And when I saw my name on the first page I couldn't help myself but read...” he said, you could see guilty in his eyes

“I- I'm sorry, you just think that I'm creepy right?” now you realized how creepy if someone writes an entire book about you without your consent.

“No, I appreciate you noticed my details when I play Quidditch. No one ever notices my strategy for Quidditch, you’re the first one” he cracks up.

“Oh..” that’s the only words you could say, well the atmosphere is awkward right now!?!?

“Did you like me that much, Y/N?” he tease you

“Based on the book, it will be a lie if I said no,” you said

“Well, don’t worry because I like you too. I didn’t know how to approach you at first but luckily you can’t reach the top shelf” he said

You finally can look at him in his eyes. Well, this is one of the benefits to not use magic all the time, right?

[enigma-im]

Fifth Day of Christmas...

Trope: Snowed in (NSFW) Relationship: Goliath x Human Word Count: 7,808

Swords clash in a symphony within the Mid-lands woods. The Goliaths have come from the mountains to ambush our camp. We never assumed we wouldn't be safe, especially with winter coming. Who would have guessed the Goliaths would be so bold as to challenge an incoming blizzard just to slaughter a few of us. It's truly too bold, too stupid.

I look out at the cluster of people, the Goliaths standing high. It's clear we have the number advantage, but they have strength. Men and women surround a single giant just to be beaten away with a single blow. It's ridiculous. The cold bites at my lungs as I charge into battle, joining two others attempting to befall the seven-foot man.

Together we swipe and swing at the revolting beast, aiming low in hopes of knocking him down. One soldier gets a jab in as the goliath blocks a blow from another. We both take the chance to cut at the knees. The goliath falls to a kneel, growling in frustration before swinging wide and knocking the other two away. I manage to stumble back into the cold dirt. Attempting to get back to my feet I see the goliath has beaten me to it, standing above the two fallen soldiers with a triumphed sneer. He reels back, aiming for the closest one. With a fatal swoop, he befalls the first one, spilling their blood to the dirt below.

I can't be shocked anymore, the sight an unforgettable one. It's almost numbing now. I quickly stand, gripping my sword in a harsh grip. The goliath reels his arm back for another blow to the woman at his feet. Working on pure adrenaline I launch at him, digging my shoulder into the wound on his side. The goliath cries out, pushing me aside as he cradles the bleeding wound. I don't let him get an edge, doing what I can to get him away from the injured soldier still laying at his feet. Stomping towards him I kick my leg high, digging my booted heel into the cut on the back of his knee. He falls to a kneel once more.

"You petulant worm," he snarls, reaching out for me. I try to step back, failing as he grabs my heel. He drags me towards him, standing to dangle me headfirst above the ground. My sword falls from my grip, hitting the dirt with a soft thud. I can't pay it any mind as this behemoth pulls me higher in the air. Not bothering to think I do the first thing I can. The wound on his side catches my attention. I drag my fist bag, launching it towards his side for a quick jab.

He wails again, dropping me harshly to the floor. My shoulder pops as the dirt gives no resistance. I watch the man stumble, breathing heavily as he clenches his side. Our eyes meet for just a moment, a few flurries dancing between us. I don't take the time to listen to whatever hateful words he wishes to spit my way. I can see the bloodlust and fury in his eyes, I am his sole target now and nothing is going to stop him.

I shuffle off the floor quickly, trying to look for my sword before the man can react. He swings for me, growling like a beast as he does. I stumble back, still having no sight of my sword. At his next attempt at my life, I give up the search. Knowing the losing battle before me I do what a soldier should never do. I run.

Twisting away I book it away from the fight, running through the tree with the cold air stabbing at my lungs. A voice screams 'coward' in my head but my will to live is stronger. I hear mighty footsteps follow me, calling out with grotesque promises. I don't make it far till I'm knocked on my stomach, my shoulder throbbing with the impact and weight. I'm twisted to my back, the man hovering above with a sadistic grin and sneer of pain. I can feel his blood dripping onto my clothes, the only warmth to be found in these woods.

"I have you now," he grabs at my throat," such a poltroon to run from battle." his fingers dig into my neck, choking me easily. I scratch at his arm, pry at his finger, reach for his face. Nothing works, the corners of my eyes darkening. With a last-ditch effort, I writhe and kick, aiming for anything to get some leverage. I don't want to die, please don't let me die here alone.

I kick at his hip, him wincing a bit. With that last bit of focus, I jab the toe of my boot into his side, blessing the fallen soldier for the well-aimed wound. He barks out a cry of pain, his fingers loosening enough for me to take a greedy gulp of biting air. I kick again, screaming a war cry as I push him off. It's a feat in its self to get him off.

I roll onto all fours, breathing hard to get the black dots out of my vision. Coughing while he wheezes, it's the only moment we have. Getting to my feet first I look over to him, he's kneeling by a decline. I take a few wobbly steps towards him, exhausted at this point. He looks up to me, trying to get to his feet with an angry growl. I'm surprised he makes it, walking on equally uneasy legs.

"I'm going to enjoy spilling your blood, little human," he seethes," it has become my right."

"Shut up," I pant.

With the last bit of energy, I have I run to him. I thud against his stomach, grab at his knees, and dig my nails into his still bleeding wound. He falls back, taking me with him. His back takes the brunt of our weight, me being launched off as he tumbles backward. We roll and skip down the steep incline of the hill, hitting every rock, root, and tree to be found. My shoulder aches as do other parts of my body. As my head meets a rather pointed rock do I wish for death.

A groan breaks through my haze. I open my eyes, looking up to trees and fat snowdrops. A few land on my lashes, my eyes flickering shut. I feel like shit. My body is throbbing, my view rather fuzzy, and my fingers numb. Another groan catches my attention, coming from above me. I tilt my head back, looking at the man trying to sit up. I startle at the blue marking curling down his bald head. My stomach lurches as I launch upwards, barely getting to my feet with the small amount of energy I have left. I know once I'm somewhere safe I'll be down for the count.

"Worms, all of you," the man whimpers," bested by a worm, me?" I watch him pathetically try to move. He looks worse than I feel, his side leaking life into the frosty debris below. The wound has grown since I last remember, stretching over his stomach. He tries to sit up, clenching his hands in the dirt, and seething every attempt.

He finally just lays there, looking at me with such disgust. I nearly feel nothing at the sight, just numb to this whole experience. He will die soon, bleeding out or freezing from the elements. I may do just the same, looking to the unclimbable incline and empty woods. Perhaps I could be so lucky to find shelter somewhere, a journey that may cost me much. I sigh.

"retched, the lot of you," he spits," may the gods damn you to the foulest parts of hell. To have your inners stood across miles. Be cursed for what you have done to me today!" it's almost sad to watch him like this. The final words of a dying man.

"Shut up," I look around some more. My best bet is to just start walking, look for some shelter. If the gods could bless me today. I start walking. The man curses and snarls at me, shouting his last bit of distraught like a pathetic animal. I walk on.

It isn't long until I come across a cabin, boarded up for the winter. It's promising. I walk up to the nailed in planks, reaching out to attempt to pry them. My shoulder screams in protest, as I do I. cradling my arm I look to the door. I can't get in. I look to the windows, they too are boarded. This close to shelter and I'm left to perish.

In the distance, I can still hear the shouts of the stubborn man. Surely he was to die by now. I shake my head, admiring his strength even in death. Thinking of a plan I circling the building, finding nothing but stacks of firewood resting against the side.

"Bollocks," I grumble. I'm not strong enough to get in…but someone else might.

I snap my head in the direction of the insolent man. Could he help me get in? no, he is too wounded. But if I treat said wounds, maybe he could be of some use? Would he be strong enough though? I cry out in frustration. It seems it's the only chance I have. Why not spend my last few hours with an enemy?

I hobble back towards the hill, hearing the man before spotting him. He is left exactly where he started. It seems he hasn't tried to make any progress. His head snaps to me, baring his teeth as I near.

"Come to finish me off, human," he barks.

"If I help you, do you think you can pry out some nailed boards before we freeze to death," I ask, not bothering to waste any time. He scoffs, turning away.

"Why should I accept help from you? Do I offer my assistance just for you to stab me in the back the first chance you get," he asks, sounding awfully stupid. I'll let myself think it’s the lack of blood causing his idiotic suggestion.

"Wouldn't you rather take that than dying in the dirt like a forgotten man," I ask, shivering as a breeze flows by.

"I rather die with my honor than betray my kind to help you," he barks a laugh," I'm faithful to my people unlike you, you poltroon scum-."

"Shut up," I interrupt," pride on the shelf, help or don’t?"

He glares at me, fingers clenching and unclenching at his side. The offering was rather nice in my opinion, even if the lack of trust is there. For now, I need him and he needs me, let's not make it more complicated than that.

"Fine," he grunts," if you can help then so will I."

I don't bother with words, collapsing to my knee with a wince beside him. The minimal supplies I have attached to my person is unceremoniously dropped to the ground. I don't bother cleaning his wound, taking a small amount of time to wrap it instead. He groans and whimpers like a child, nearly reaching for me to stop. I ignore him, stuffing wrapped bandages against his side before covering it all with wrapping. I hope the pressure is enough to forgo any more blood loss on the way to the cabin. I just need him strong enough to pull some wood, nothing more.

I'm little to no help getting him off the ground. I try to tug him up with my good arm but the jostling runs to the other anyway. He manages mostly on his own to get up, standing on his own two feet. His hand covers his side and he stumbles onward.

We walk like a bunch of drunks towards the cabin, nearly collapsing as we stop at the door. I watch as he easily pries the boards off the door, ripping them off as easily as ripping paper. With the wood cast aside, he opens the door and walks in. I follow after, annoyed at the equally cold interior.

"I'm going to get a fire started, you can rest for a bit. You have done enough," I say as I rub at my arms. I look around the room, spotting the heath with stacks of wood on the side. Before I can even take a step there I heard a loud thud. I jump, looking towards the goliath in fear. To my surprise he isn't standing, having collapsed on the ground.

I sigh," I thank you for your help but if you die in the middle of the room I'm going to be pissed."

That night was the longest in my life. Nearly getting killed in battle, then nearly dying from exposure, and now trying to start a fire with a broken shoulder. Hauling the wood was a challenge in itself, now trying to spark the flint. I would give anything to be able to roll over and rest but there is still much to be done.

I start a fire, warming myself for a bit before searching around the cabin. Finding a bedroom with blankets and a kitchen with jarred food. I send praise to the gods above. I drag all the linen to the main room, making two cots for the goliath and myself. I don't bother trying to drag him closer to the fire, exhausting all my courtesy towards him. Wrapping him in a blanket after checking his wounds is all I can bother within one night.

With my vision tunneling, I lay down in my cot and take a well-earned rest.

I startle awake the next morning when I catch the Goliath watching me sleep. His gaze is contemplative, to my surprise, but still rather brutish. I stare at him as he stares at me, not sure what his mood is this morning.

"you didn't kill me," he starts bluntly.

"That I did not," I answer.

"Why," he demands.

"it would not have benefitted me," I snuggle further into the warmth of the blanket.

He huffs," didn't think killing your enemy before they get the chance to kill isn't beneficial?"

"depends," I shrug," are you planning on killing me?"

He regards me for a few moments, his jaw ticking," No."

The goliath begins to stand, looking steadier than last night. His blood-soaked shirt is stiff and ripped. He takes a large step towards me, I flinch. Though I reluctantly trust his words, the years of fighting have left much ingrained. The recoil jostles my shoulder, making me bite back a whimper.

"Hurt," he asks, walking around me towards the fire. I can't pay him any mind as I breathe through the pain that has worsened from last night. Rolling onto my back I try all I can to remain still, the throbbing starting anew.

"I asked you a question," the goliath growls.

"Yes," I bark.

He chuckles," good. I'd hate to be the only one." I glare at his back. Slurs begin to roll towards my lips but I hold them back. Though he was near death before, I am in more pain now.

I hear the goliath poking at the fire, throwing another log in before stomping towards me. On reflex, I flinch, wincing again. He crouches down beside me, grabbing at my arm and jerking me upright. I spit out a curse, whimpering like a child. His meaty fingers poke and prod till I'm near tears.

"Stop," I shout. He glares, taking his hands off me.

"it's dislocated," he sneers," it has to be popped back into place." he reaches for me again, I twist away.

"Don't you fucking touch me," I snarl, shuffling farther and farther away from him. He remains kneeling by the cot, scoffing at my departure.

"Fine," he slaps his hands to his thighs," deal with it yourself."

I watch him trot off somewhere out of sight, stomping all the while. His heavy steps echo around the cabin, shaking the walls a bit. I'm impressed he hasn't knocked some of the decorations off the walls. Hell, I'm impressed he can stand up straight without hitting his head. I hear some clanking of glass, telling me of his location. With him out of the room, I breathe easy.

My arm makes me feel useless and I try to keep busy. Sorting out supplies and checking the fire becomes tedious with one arm. I take to looking at the piling snow outside, it already reaching around a foot high. Even without the blizzard out there, I had no intentions of leaving, it seems neither did the goliath as he licks his wounds in the main bedroom. We keep to ourselves most of the day, him coming back as the day grows to night. Even then he remains in the farthest corner from me. Not that I mind, keep the brute away less we break this unsteady truce.

I try to head to the cot, struggling to lay down with every angle hurting my shoulder. I try to bite back whimpers, not letting him get the satisfaction of hearing them. The hardwood is uncomfortable, so much so that I consider going to the bedroom to sleep on the mattress. The threat of freezing keeps me where I am.

I wiggle around enough that the goliath lets out an annoyed sigh," if you would let me pop it into place then you would have a better time getting comfortable."

"Piss off," I grumble.

He huffs again," you humans are too damn stubborn for your own good. I'm sure this war would have been dealt with years ago if your people would stop acting like children."

I scoff under my breath, not falling for the bait. He continues anyway.

"I'm tempted to see how long you'll keep use of your arm. With us snowed in I'm sure you won't last till the sun melts it all. As weak as you all are I'm nearly impressed with your resilience to help. At this point I believe killing you would be a mercy as amputation would get you dropped from service," he rambles on. I never knew goliaths could be so mouthy, saying nothing of importance in a conversation. He grates on my nerves till the pain of hearing him is worse than the pain in my shoulder. His constant insults nearly make me consider taking my chances outside.

As he goes on his next spiel I sit up, glaring at him as I stand. With a stubborn amount of determination, I charge at the nearest wall, slamming my shoulder against it. A loud pop echoes around the room, silencing the annoying goliath. I wheeze against the wall, panting hard as I slide down to the floor. Tears roll down my cheeks as a sob wracks over my body. My whole arm throbs, telling me of my success and idiocrasy.

I look to the goliath, blowing a loose strand of hair out of my face. He looks surprised, then impressed. It's short-lived though as he looks down at the sword he is fiddling with, having found it on the wall.

"It seems humans are stupid above all else," he mumbles. I huff, thunking my head against the wall.

The silence begins to bug me as the days go on. After his baiting, he hasn't said much else. During the day he sticks to the bedroom, coming back to the main room at night. I try to keep busy, running out of things to do besides count rations and look out at the white landscape. The fire has been kept lit all day, our woodpile beginning to run low. I know there is a large stack outside but the idea of going out there chills me to the bone. At some point I'm going to have to, that thought keeps me busy.

We sit in our cots one night, staring off into space.

"Our fire is going to die before the snow melts," he says casually. I lazily look at him, watching him look to the heath. The glow of the fire gives him a beautiful glow, lighting his markings like a painting.

"there's some chopped wood outside," I answer. He nods.

"I'll retrieve some tomorrow morning, give it enough time to dry out," he states.

"no," I glare at him," I'll grab it, you can't be trying to get your giant self through that snow. Besides, you can reopen your cut lifting those logs."

He glares back," like you can do any better with your arm?"

I sit up," I can do better than you getting through the snow. So what I lack in strength I make up in time."

"by the gods woman," he shouts," can you cease your insolence for one day? Your fire is admirable but it will get you killed. You will rest, do I make myself clear?"

His scolding demand boils my blood. Who does he think he is making such commands? I'm not his to push around or control.

"No, you don't. I will go out there with or without your permission because you aren't my father or commander," I shout. I nearly get up to grab the wood that second, my ire demanding action.

"This is the thing with you humans, we try to do something kind and you basically spit in our faces," he slaps his hands on his thigh," there is no more discussion, I will get the wood in the morning."

"No, you-," he interrupts me.

"End of discussion, now go to bed," he scolds. Before I can say anything more, he rolls over in his cot. I want to scream in frustration, feeling like a child at this moment. Reluctantly I roll over and go to bed as well, fuming as I do.

I aim to wake up early, sneaking out before he can wake up. He still rests in his cot as I roll out of mine. I smile in victory as I make my way to the door. Wrapping my blanket around myself I head out to start the mission of carving a path through the snow. As I reach for the handle the door swings open, forcing me back a step.

"Morning," the goliath greets me, holding an armful of wet wood. I scowl up at him, blowing a stray hair out of my face. He snickers, walking past and setting the wood down by the hearth.

"How'd you wake up before me," I throw the blanket down in my cot. He organizes the already large stack of wood, spacing them out to dry faster.

"Your snoring kept me up, I was already awake," he shrugs.

I sulk, dropping back in my bedding with arms crossed. He looks over his shoulder, laughing as he catches sight of my scowl.

Today he actually spends time in the main room, warming up by the fire and checking on the wood. Minimal words are exchanged but still better than before. The reluctant truce feels less reluctant now.

Night falls and the logs still aren't dry. The small amount we have left can barely keep the fire blazing through the night. We both stare at the hearth.

"We can bundle up more," I offer.

"There aren't any more blankets," he says.

"We can lay closer to the fire, that might help," I try. The idea of freezing during the night isn't an ideal one. The small fire could keep us warm, but just barely. We can try to use the wet wood but it risks snuffing out the flame we already have. I can't think of much else to do.

"we're going to have to huddle for warmth," he sighs. I snap my head towards him, confused by the suggestion.

"Huddle for warmth? Like, share a cot," I ask. He nods. "Well, that's definitely out of the question," I shut him down.

"excuse me," he barks," why is that?"

"I'm not going to share a cot with you. Not even a few days ago you tried killing me, cursing my name to the gods in hopes that they will gut me and spread my entrails for miles," I shake my head," so no, I don't trust you."

"so, you trust that I won't kill you in your sleep but sharing a cot is where you draw the line," he asks, a smile curling his lips. I glare up at him, not appreciating his tone.

"It wasn't like I had a choice," I snide back.

He grins," it's not like you have much of a choice now, too."

I squint at him," you're enjoying this aren't you?"

"not at all," he fights back his smile," having to cuddle up next to my enemy isn't the highlight of my week."

"then it's settled," I clap my hands," we don't share a bed and we just risk the chance of freezing. I love it, glad we're on the same page." I stand up to walk away. He snatches my hand, tugging me back to the floor.

"No, not agreed. I can swallow my pride enough to do this and so can you. I'm not so stubborn to put my wants over my needs," he bites back. I glare daggers at him, he gives it right back. The battle of will begin, me debating on the weight of his words. I'd rather share the damn cot and keep warm but the problem is doing it with him. This truce is only here long enough for us to survive then get back to the war. I won't let myself sit here and pretend that we could be friends. No, that's out of the question. Still, we don't have to be friends to survive. I just have to bite my tongue and get on with it.

"fine," I shout," grab your bedding, it's larger than mine."

He jumps up, piling his sheets in his arms before dropping them in front of the fireplace. We sort it all out, layering some on the floor to keep the chill out. I snuggle under the blanket, looking up at him as he removes his shirt.

'Whoa, whoa," I yell," don't do that." he throws the dirty rag away and crawls into bed. His body gives my heart pause. The wound on his side has healed very nicely, looking more healed than I would have figured for only a few days. His stomach is toned, along with his chest. The fire allows shadows to dance over his torso, adding another level of appeal to his massive frame.

"skin to skin is better to keep warm. Don't have to waste time warming up the clothes," he explains, reaching out and tugging at my shirt. I slap him away, feeling more girlish at this moment than at any point in my life.

"No, no, I'll be keeping mine on," I curl my arms against my chest. He snorts, letting me be as he drops beside me. I watch him, still conflicted on letting this go on. Everything is so confusing. The goliath looks… well, attractive, lounging against the bed. His angry features look softer at the moment, almost relaxed. I don't like seeing him this way.

I lay upon the blankets, turning towards the fire. I jump when his hand curls over my stomach and tugs me against his body. He is so warm. It takes a considerable amount of effort to relax, trying my damndest to fall asleep. I close my eyes and try to pretend the warmth coming from my back isn't his.

Sleep eventually tries to take its claim. My mind fading in and out of rest. As I nearly give in I feel something press against my shoulder, foreign words being mumbled near my ear. His hand fists at my shirt, his head nuzzling against mine. I feel him kiss the back of my neck, mumbling more soft words to my back. I gasp at the feeling, my cheeks tingling from more than the fire. He stiffens behind me. Neither of us moves, neither of us makes a sound.

Nothing is said as we both pretend it never happened. Falling off into tense sleep.

The next morning is…awkward. He wakes up before me, jostling me awake as he runs out of the room. I believe he holds up in the bedroom but I can't tell or gain the courage to check. I'm in a flurry of thoughts as the tingle on the back of my neck remembers his lips. Why did he do that? Surely he hates me, or the most tolerates me. His constant disrespect to my species as a whole has shown his true feelings. For fuck sakes, he tried to kill me not even a week ago.

I circle on the thought the whole day, trying to make some sort of sense of the small bout of affection. It isn't till later that I think about my feelings towards him. I don't hate him, that's clear. I just have a bit of distrust for him. The war has been going on for years now, starting over something as trivial as land. It's grown into this hatred that's on sight. I've killed a few of his people and he has killed a few of mine. As is life as a soldier. But is that a factor now? This little bubble we have created seems to have made those rules disappear. He is domineering but kind, loud but sweet. I don't hate him, I just don't trust him.

He doesn't come back in as the night falls, staying in his room. The wood has dried enough to be used, keeping the fire large. I end up going to bed without seeing him that whole day.

The next morning I wake expecting to see him. I actually hope to see him, to get some sort of guidance on what to do around him. I look around the room, not seeing any evidence of him being here. I sigh, a bit sad at the fact he locked himself away. It's weird to be so disturbed at his absents. I ignore it and get on with the day.

The snow outside has begun melting, the sun shining brightly through the trees. It's still a good two feet and dangerous to venture in but the time here is coming to an end soon. As I watch the water drip off the roof, I grow nervous. I'll have to try to head back to my platoon soon, getting back to the war. That thought ruins my day.

The sun sets and the goliath still isn't here. Nearly two days now and I've heard nothing but some stomping around. At least I know he's still alive. I feel antsy now, tossing and turning in my cot. Why is he still avoiding me? It wasn't that bad what happened, is he embarrassed? Maybe I should go break the ice, make some peace before we part ways.

I shuffle out of my cot, wrapping the blanket around myself. Walking further into the house I stop in front of the closed bedroom door. What am I doing? Perhaps it's better to turn back and pretend nothing happened. Pretend that he didn't hold me close and whisper sweet-sounding words. A lapse of judgment happens to us all. I sigh.

Grabbing the knob I open the door. I shuffle into the darkroom, the light of the moon guiding me towards the bed. A figure sits up in the bed, glowing partially in the light. I walk around the bed, crawling in beside him. His large hands grab my hips to tug me closer. All thoughts evade me as I follow his lead. I throw my leg over his hip, straddling his lap. His hand glides up my back, petting over my braid. He digs his fingers into my hair.

"I wante-," he tries to speak. Words aren't important now. Without much thought I quiet him with my lips, taking his for mine. It's his turn to gasp, freezing while I slant my mouth against his. His fingers clench, tugging on my hair, reacting swiftly. His kiss is sweet. It's a warmth I've craved all day. I pet at his chest, touching the cold skin peeking out the tears of his shirt.

"you're cold," I mumble against him. He forces me back, licking at my lips. I trace his tongue with my own.

"you're so warm," he smiles.

His freezing fingers dig under my shirt to send a chill down my spine. I shutter in his hands, relishing in his touch trailing up to my chest. He kisses me as he twists our positions. Slowly, he guides me onto my back as he crawls over me. I don't bother thinking, wanting to focus on his touch.

He removes his shirt while I shove mine off. We smile at one another, leaning back into another kiss. I pull him close, straying off the cold with his heat. His hips slant against mine, grinding hard into my crotch. His hardening cock brings a zap of need to my body, craving more and more.

We can't wait a second more, peeling our pants off and guiding his large cock to my wet heat. I'm almost hesitant in taking him, his length and girth way bigger than I'm comfortable with. When he pecks my cheek I trust him to be gentle. I take his cock with a choked cry, his grunts playing around the quiet room. As he bottoms out we both take in a much-needed breath.

"Varoth," he says suddenly. I look at him bemused.

"What," I ask, grabbing at his arms.

"My name," he smiles," Varoth." I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. This whole time I never knew his name.

I chuckle," It's nice to meet you Varoth, I'm Evelina. You can call me Eve." he grabs my hand, holding my fingers in his palm as he lifts my knuckles to his lips.

"it's a pleasure, Eve," he presses a kiss to my skin. It's silly and sweet, I want to hit him or kiss him.

With our introductions out the way, he begins to pump. His hips slowly undulate, grinding into my hips with every descent. The feeling of him is beautiful, warm, and intoxicating. Part of me realizes the taboo of it all, sleeping with the enemy. Yet, I can't bring myself so care.

He fucks me like he cares, petting along my sides and worshipping every inch of me with his touch. His lips press every space he can reach, sucking and nipping to his heart's content. I can't look away, watching in awe as he lazily pumps his hips and kisses my chest. Not being able to take it any longer I drag him up, meeting his eyes with a smile. My thumb pets at his cheek before I slant my lips against his.

"you're so beautiful," he purrs against my mouth," so strong and determined."

"Yea," I ask, licking his top lip," I thought you hated how determined I was." his hands trail down to my hips, gripping them to buck harder in his next thrust.

"I hated how it pleased me," he groans," everything about you draws me in. That's the only thing I can hate about you." I flutter around him, twitching at his praise. His face clenches up for a moment, showing his blissful torment.

We make love this night, no doubt about it. Our slowly climbing peaks don't need to be rushed as we just enjoy one another. We kiss and bite, mumbling praises to the other as the fire inside stokes to an inferno. I break first, almost startled by the sudden pleasure. I writhe and cry out, clenching around him. He doesn't falter as he watches me fall apart. It's not till I'm laying exhausted in the sheet does he take his own end. His hips clap against mine, taking his fill before spilling in me. He groans long and loud, collapsing atop of me.

Sometime later we lay cuddled in bed. He curls around my back, hugging me at the waist. His arm pillows my head, allowing me to play with his hand. I compare our sizes, amazed at how easily he can fit my hand in his. His large fingers please me, them curling over mine.

"Were you embarrassed about the other night," I ask as I trace the lines of his palm.

He hums," I didn't know you were still awake."

"so you decided to hide in here till the snow melted," I tease. He grabs my hand in his, intertwining out fingers.

"It sounds childish when you say it like that."

"Well, it was," I say. He nips at my shoulder in retort.

"You have a power over me that makes me act like a whelp. I can't help but act a fool when you're near," he pecks my shoulder. I hum, smiling to myself.

We fall asleep in the cold room, keeping each other warm. It's the best sleep I've gotten since we got here. Though my toes feel near frozen and my thighs feel sticky, it's the most restful night.

Come morning I wake to a breeze ghosting over my back. I shiver, rolling over to snuggle into Varoth. Cold is all I'm met with. I stretch my arm out, feeling the empty bed. Confused I bolt upright, looking over the vacant area. I look around the room. His clothes are missing along with him. Perhaps he is already by the fire.

I get dressed and walk out into the main room. The only thing that greets me is a blazing fireplace, even the cots are cleaned up and put away.

"Varoth," I call out.

Nothing.

I search the whole cabin, an unsettling feeling curling in my chest. When I open the front door I get my answer. The snow has melted through the morning, coming to a manageable height. In the snow is footprints leading out and away. My jaw ticks as I slam the door shut.

Guess it's over now.

I pack up my things numbly. The hike through the woods is lonely, not even the birds keep me company. It's well towards sunset when I finally find civilization, a small town a few miles away from the woods. I make contact with the crew stationed here and get back to my life before everything.

The next few weeks feel hollow. Working has lost its appeal, it's passion. I fought for a purpose, to be free of the goliath's anger. To reclaim the lands they stole from us. It was a solid following, but now? Every fight I can't even bother to look at them, seeing the humanity in every single one. What's the point of reclaiming the mountains? Why try to take that away from them when it's all they have?

It's a month later when I resign from the war, dishonorably discharged. I try to live out of the path of the war but it seems there it's not much of an escape. The people still rant and rave about the goliaths. I pick up and leave, making it to a neutral town far away from it all. Starting a new life in a new land.

I make a career for myself as a blacksmith's assistant. The years of hard labor in the service have toughed me up for such back-breaking work. I offer the large orc my help in fetch tasks, at least till I learn enough to be of actual use.

"Eve," the orc grunts," you don't mind heading over to the lumbermill to get me some wood for handles?'

"Of course not," I jump up," anything to not be sitting in this sweltering heat."

The older man laughs, wiping sweat from his brow," you're telling me."

With an objective, I make my way down the village. The small hunting village is home to a melting pot of creatures. It's almost a haven for all. Orcs and dwarves work together along with humans and elves. It's nice living somewhere so accepting.

I make it to the mill at the edge of town. The saw is heard from down the road, the crew already hard at work. I walk around till I spot someone chopping wood in the center of a pile of logs. He is a pasty man, large and strong. I call out to him.

"Excuse me, sir," I shout over the saw. The man launches his ax down again, splitting the log easily. With that done he glances over his shoulder. I almost recoil at the sight, my traitorous heart lurching.

"Evelina," Varoth gawks. His deep gravelly voice nearly calms my nerves. It's nice to see him, at the same time that it isn't. I almost contemplate running.

"Varoth," I growl. He tosses his ax, walking over with his loud steps. His quick movement startles me into taking a step back. He comes to me fast, grabbing at my arms before I can race off. I fight in his hold, angry and frustrated with him. He left and it still stings. I never let myself think about it, labeling the memories as forbidden in my mind. He pulls me flush to his sweaty chest, my feet dangling off the ground. His mouth captures mine in a fierce embrace.

For a moment I can forget my ire, melting into his touch like a lovesick woman. I give myself that few seconds, and only that.

I push him away, shaking out of his arms and falling to the ground before slapping him across the face. He barely flinches, his head staying still.

"You don't get to do that," I stab my finger into his chest," you have no right!"

"I know," he grunts, looking at me with awe. He doesn't look mad or confused, but happy. It plucks at my nerves and my heart.

"Fuck you, Varoth," I spit," you don't get to grab me like that and kiss me as nothing happen. Like you didn't leave me alone in that bed, confused and worried. Do you understand how much it hurt to see your footsteps in the snow that morning? I had to suck it up for weeks, pretend that what happened never happened. I had to fight on like my enemy doesn't look just like you." a frustrated tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away and continue, letting out the anger and hate I've hidden for weeks.

"You made me so confused! I knew what I was before we fell off that hill, I knew what I fought for. Then you came and fucked me up, fucked me over. I was left conflicted and scared as I walked back to the life I knew. But it really wasn't the life I knew, it was all wrong. I had to drop everything I used to know and start all over again because you fucking kissed my neck and whispered sweet words. So fuck you, Varoth," I vent," fuck you."

Speaking felt like opening an old wound. I always imagined what would happen if I saw Varoth again. I thought I would just walk by him and pretend that nothing went on between us, to hold my head high and ignore him. I wanted to be better than this, to care as little as he did when he left. I hiccup, snorting back snot. I can't do that. That night meant more to be than him it seems.

I shutter as sobs try to wrack my body, the months finally catching up to me. Varoth tugs me into his arms, petting at my back as I cry. I beat at his chest, wanting to be angry, but all I feel is tired.

"I'm sorry, Eve," he crouches down to his knees, burying his face against my hair," I couldn't stay, we both know that. Saying goodbye would have been too hard for me. I was a coward, and for that I'm sorry." I let him hold me, stealing his comfort as it's what I'm owed.

"You should have said something," I mumble, exhausted, against his shoulder," I felt so used that morning. Like that night meant nothing to you. I could only think that you truly saw me as some low life human to be used and discard."

He recoils at my words, reaching up and cupping my cheeks. His eyes dart between mine, his brow pinched in concern.

"That night meant everything," he says sternly," I am just a coward who couldn't face the consequence of the next day. Do not think any longer that I wanted to use you because that is the biggest lie I can think of."

I can't help but snort in amusement," I guess you're the real poltroon."

He smiles, softening as he speaks," yea, I guess I am."

We stand in the lumberyard just staring at one another, so much left to be said. Yet, all I can think about is kissing those plump pale lips.

"Varoth," I cup his hand against my cheek," why are you here?"

His thumb pets under my eye," I moved here shortly after the snow completely melted. I couldn't fight in a war I no longer believed in."

"I understand that," I nod bitterly," should I be so bold to assume I'm the reason for that change?"

He smiles, leaning down to drop his head against mine," of course you are. Every change I've made since meeting you is your fault." I choke out a laugh, more tears rolling down my cheeks. Nothing stops me from reaching up and kissing his cheek, his nose, his lips. I've missed him. He returns the gesture, making a smile curl up my face as he kisses me everywhere.

"I have yearned for you every day," he kisses my cheek," scolding myself for being such a fool ever since."

I giggle from his attention," you have been known to be an idiot, but I've missed you too."

He stops his kisses, rolling his forehead against mine," do you think I'd be allowed to make up for lost times?"

"I don't know," I look to him with a teasing glint in my eye," you still have to make up for leaving me cold and alone in bed."

"That I do," he shuts his eyes," perhaps spend my whole life making up for that mistake."

It's a long while before we can gain the courage to split apart, making plans to meet up after work. He helps me carry the wood to the blacksmith, catching me up on his life since he found the village. I can't stop the smiling that graces my lips.

I think everything is going to be a-okay.

[babylooneytoonz]

Warning(s): Are they back to bickering again? Like an old married couple ? Bucky Barnes gets a surprise.

Please read the other parts of this book using links from the Masterlist.

Three more months later,

(Six months ever since you left the Avengers Facility)

Bucky lowered his cap, and so did Natasha, Steve, Clint and Sam as they pushed their way through a swarm of drunk college kids that were dancing to a loud, buzzing electronic music.

"All these years, and I still don't get how this is even good. Buck and I can tell you how a good clubbing was done, back in the 1940s– " Steve was screaming on the top of his lungs.

"God, this is giving me a goddamn headache, why are we here again?" Bucky raised a brow, and fixed a cold, impassive glare on Sam.

"I was born on this day. I have the right to call the shots." Sam pointed out, and Natasha just grinned, her body almost swaying to the beats that were playing.

"God, at least they have drinks. Come on punk. I think the only place the two of us can be is the bar." Bucky nudged Steve and Sam just rolled his eyes while he and Natasha started dancing, Natasha rolling her hips in a seductive way while Sam was just sort of moving his hands.

Bucky, Clint and Steve walked up to the bar and they fixed themselves in a corner, their eyes scanning around as Clint smirked, "Come on, loosen up, grandpa's. What are we drinking?"

"I'm not drinking– "

"We'll have the four roses bourbon– "

Both Bucky and Steve spoke at the exact same time, and Bucky narrowed his eyes as he looked at his best friend, "Really? You people drag me out here and we're not even drinking ?"

"Buck, what's the whole point of drinking when we can't even get drunk?" Steve just shrugged, while Bucky just shook his head.

"It's better than nothing."

"Well I can't win from you. Let's do it. Although I'm not sure I even heard about that before," Steve chuckled and pulled a barstool, so he could fix himself on it as Clint spoke to the bartender.

The bartender placed the drinks on the counter, and Bucky curled his flesh fingers around his drink, lifting it up and placing it to his lips, his eyes watching Natasha and Sam, as they made their way towards them.

"Not fair? You started without us, Cap." Natasha smirked at Steve, and leant against the counter so she can throw in her words to the bartender, telling him what she wanted to drink. Sam just made his way closer to the men, standing next to Clint and slowly turning towards three girls that were standing by the dance floor, their drinks in their hands, but their eyes were on them.

"Well check that out. I call dibs on the one in green. Damn." Sam smirked, and Steve just shook his head in disapproval, and brought his drink up to his lips, while Clint smirked and rubbed his palms together, "Nah, I'm good mate. You can have her. I have a good one back home."

"Hey, she is looking at you man." Sam nudged Bucky's knee using his elbow and he just rolled his eyes in the most casual manner and turned his head to listen to what Sam had to say, when his eyes fell on one of the girls, who was biting her lip, staring at him. Disinterested, he just turned away; back into his drink, staring at the glass when Natasha just blurted out, regretting her words immediately, "lover boy's just waiting for Y/N to come back, bring him the hottest woman on earth now, he would still want her back."

Bucky's grip tightened on the glass, and instinctively, Steve grabbed his flesh arm, to hold him back before he could lose his control and do something he would later regret.

"Barnes, I didn't mean it," Natasha immediately added.

"You women often say things that you never mean, which is why I don't bloody understand the things that goes on in those minds of yours," Bucky brought up his index finger, placing it on Natasha's temple, tapping it twice.

The lot fell silent then, each of them now lost in their own trivial thoughts. Bucky replayed the conversation he had with you in your apartment, and how you had said that you didn't mean it. He just scoffed, and shook his head, a little too obviously and Steve started looking at him, noticing his friend's sudden weirdness before his phone beeped in his pocket and he pulled it out. "Great, Tony wants us back at the towers. Someone hacked into two of the HYDRA bases systems in Kazakhstan and Hungary. It was live for two minutes before they took it off, but Tony managed to get his hands on a few cryptic codes and coordinates." Steve stood up, his broad, bulky frame almost blocking out the lighting behind him, as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

"Well, it couldn't have been the government, or CIA. Does Tony know the potential hacker?" Clint raised an eyebrow, and Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.

"Couldn't be traced. But again, if we can figure out those cryptic codes and coordinates, we will have a lead." Steve called out before turning around to leave.

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

"Romanoff, you get anything?" Tony called out, while Natasha just grunted in annoyance, not even bothering to crane her neck to look back from one of the computer screens, as her fingers skillfully glided across the keypad, typing here and there. Bucky leant by the wall, eyeing Steve's computer screen, watching him intently as he was struggling to turn the cryptic symbols into something meaningful.

"Bingo, I think I have it," Natasha yelled, and immediately, the four of them flocked around her screen, staring down at the brightly lit screen.

"Eighth Avenue, Tech Laboratories?" Bucky mumbled, his eyes squinted slightly as he leaned over Natasha's back, typing something onto the computer so that the maps came up.

"But those labs have been shut down ages back, illegal animal testing and shit." Tony replied, in a casual tone and Steve just bit his lip.

"That's the whole point, Tony. Whoever this is, whatever is going on, it's illegal, which is why there's this shade."

"Guys I hate to break it to you, the more we stay here talking, we might end up missing whatever is going on out there," Natasha deadpanned giving them a serious look, and Steve nodded.

It didn't take them very long to reach the old, abandoned laboratories that looked stale and dinghy in comparison to the other buildings surrounding it. It was weird and confusing why this building hadn't been taken down yet. Another thing to notice was, that the building, although miniscule, the empty land that was in the boundary of this building was massive, and yet secluded.

Bucky and Steve stepped off their bikes, while Natasha got off hers, with Sam riding pillion behind her. Their hands flew to their gun holsters and immediately, they drew out their guns. Their eyes fell on a black sedan that was parked a few meters away; and they knew that whoever this was, was probably still inside. Steve's index finger flew to his lips, as the four of them, with quiet steps starting making their way into the building, their eyes scanning the vicinity for anything that was off.

"Do we split up or – " Sam begin but Bucky have him a glare, and he pressed his lips shut, " my bad."

The four of them walked in deeper, noticing an intense change in the heat level inside as compared to the outside. The inside of the laboratories were freezing, and it felt like they were inside a freezer. Climbing a flight of stairs, making sure they didn't press much weight to the stairs, not wanting the stairs to announce their arrival, they stepped onto the first floor, and reflexively, they stopped, when they heard a familiar voice.

"Well, does everything look okay to you?"

Natasha's head snapped towards Steve in recognition, and his eyes widened, his own head snapping towards Bucky.

"Hey, why the fuck does the voice sound like Fury?" Sam whispered in Bucky 's ear.

"Because it's Fury, Sam."

Before Sam could speak, another voice reached their ears, and this voice was foreign, and unknown.

"Mr. Fury, this is something unlike I've ever seen. Those cells are multiplying at a rate faster than a normal human growth rate. These bruises, these bruises you see aren't something very common for a six month old fetus, yes they kick and all, but this is– "

"Holy shit, Fury probably knocked up a girl. Boy I think we are just at the wrong place at the wrong–  " Sam began whispering again, much to the annoyance of the others. They all turned towards him at the exact same time, ready to shut him up when a soft, feminine voice started speaking; a voice all of them were aware of.

"Did Erskine's serum cause any damage to my baby?"

James Buchanan Barnes turned white like a chalk. His eyes and his mouth were frozen wide open, in an expression of shock, and although he was staring straight at Steve; he appeared not to notice him at all, and all he could think of was what he had just heard. Steve took his best friend's side, placing his palm softly on his bicep, slightly shaking him out of his daze. Whoever that third person was, had probably left by now, and from what they could hear; it was just Fury and Y/N inside.

"I know you want to go and pull those motherfuckers out of their shitholes, Y/N, I really know you do, but right now, they are going to come after you and try to get their hands on that kid."

"And you think I'd let them ? I'd break every single bone in their bodies. Those pesky rodents, they deserve to be wiped off, you know it," You hissed, through pursed lips, unaware that a set of four eyes were now watching you and Fury from the corner. You were sitting on what looked like a gurney, your feet dangling off the edge. A loose fitting shrug was covering your shoulders, your palms cradling your pretty evident baby bump.

"I'm tired of dealing with your stubborn ass. This is the time to stay hidden."

"I am not going to do anything stupid Fury, not until this little guy's here," You hopped off the gurney, and ran your fingers through your hair, using your shrug to try and hide the bulge of your belly, before you looked towards the back entrance.

"Call me later, I'm gonna use that back door and get the hell out of here."

"Whatever, snarky," Fury smirked.

"Don't get started," you warned, making your way out through the back, your gun resting securely in the waist of your stretchable pants.

Nick Fury waited a few seconds until he had made sure that you had gotten out safely from the back. He then turned around, and casually started walking out; only to come face to face with four semi to super pissed Avengers.

"Fury," Steve was the first one to break the silence; and sensing that the four had probably heard it all, Fury lost the defensiveness in his stance and took a deep breath.

"Yeah, I didn't tell any of you because she didn't want me to," he was eyeing Bucky now, who had a tight squared jaw.

"How long have you known?" He raised an eyebrow, stepping in front of Steve.

"She came to me three months back, didn't know where else to go." He stopped speaking for a split second and then, in a low voice, almost grumbled under his breath, "I told her it is always a bad idea to hook up with a colleague; look where it landed her. First, it got her married to a fucking HYDRA dick, and second, it got her pregnant with a super soldier's spawn. When does she ever listen? And you, don't even get me started. You were the bastard that knocked her up."

"Come on, Fury. That's just harsh," Natasha chimed in.

"Guys, can I talk?"

Steve, Fury, Bucky and Natasha turned towards Sam and they gave him a quizzical expression, while Bucky just glared at him.

"The thing is, those coordinates, that hacked details, what the hell was that?"

Fury's eyes widened and he clenched his fists tighter against his side, stepping closer towards Sam, "What coordinates? What hacking?"

"It looked like someone hacked into the HYDRA system, we found these coordinates, and that's why we found out the secrets that you were hiding Fury," Natasha defended Sam immediately, as she winked playfully at Bucky. This is when Fury suddenly turned, pulling out his gun, and began sprinting towards the back entrance; as quickly as his legs could carry him, bolting down the lab.

"Where the hell are you going?" Bucky followed his pace with his own grueling pace, managing to reach him in a split second, and so did the other three.

"Those hackers weren't hacking from HYDRA. It was most probably HYDRA getting into our systems, the non official ones, to find her. They've landed on a jackpot, a freaking Winter Soldier baby. And if what you're saying is true, they're here already, and Y/N is probably in trouble."

Meanwhile, this wasn't supposed to happen, not again.

No one knew of this place, then who were these men?

You slowly slid your palm into your shrug, pulling out your loaded gun. You were pregnant, but you definitely weren't a damsel in distress, and if need arose, you were going to fight the HYDRA scum. Your mind was already working on the calculations; there were four of them, and maybe, there were more. They had a plus one on you, but yet, you had an edge. They couldn't hurt you, if what they really wanted was your child.

"Никто не должен умирать. Пожалуйста, пойдем с нами, и мы не причиним тебе вреда." One of them stepped towards you, and instinctively you stepped one step back, raising your gun in the air, until you were in a face off.

"Sorry, gentlemen, I don't do Russian, my mum did nag me to learn it, but unfortunately, I never did. Can we switch to good ol' English now?" You hissed, venom in your voice.

"Miss Y/N. Let's not do that, shall we? One squeeze of a trigger from either you or my men, it's going to be a disaster," the man spoke in thick Russian accent, and you rolled your eyes, trying to look through this man's mask. This was where you made a mistake. They had orders not to kill you, but not to not hurt you. You dropped your guard for one second when this man spoke, but just when this happened, the bullet from another man's gun hit you right on your palm and your gun dropped; clattering to the ground with a loud noise, leaving your palm in a stinging, burning pain, blood spurting out of the hole the bullet had made right in the center.

In that frozen second between the stand off you saw the man's eyes flick from you to your belly and a faint nod passed between him and his men, a sort of a signal. Your faces are unreadable, no fear, no invitational smirk, just plain hatred in your eyes, and passiveness in his. One of them suddenly lunged forward, when your reflexes kicked in, and you immediately ducked, this proving to be much more difficult now. You threw out your leg, kicking the man hard in his shins until he hit the floor hard with the blow, when another one lunged at you, trying to grab you.

Punches, kicks, hard blows.

You had lost to them once, and had been unable to protect your son, but this time, you were not planning on letting history repeat. You were going to fight, for your life, and you were going to protect this child, no matter what it took.

          ╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The four men and one woman soared through the hallway at the back, their guns blazing as they ran towards the back entrance from where you had just left, minutes back. Gunshots rang out from all around them now, which meant that Fury was right; HYDRA was here and you were in danger. Bucky could feel his heart beat in his chest, pounding, banging, trying to get out. He kept running forward and ahead of the others, feeling as though his blood were on fire. His limbs were moving on their own. He was disconnected from everything but the ever present sound of his drumming heart as he kicked the back door with his foot, watching it fly off its hinges and land a distance away with a crash.

The first thing their eyes fell on were the black uniformed corpses that were spread out evenly on the floor; two with a bullet mark, and two who had a gruesome bite on the side of the neck and the other one probably having had snapped his neck. But within seconds, Natasha's eyes had spotted you in a corner, sitting against the floor, your head resting against the wall at the back, your bleeding hand pressed against your chest.

Your eyes were open, your mind was awake and alert, but the adrenaline of it all was too much. You felt liberated, and free, that finally, you had managed to something you had failed in. You had, for now, saved yourself. And it was all on you.

The rest of the Avengers crowded around you, Natasha kneeling next to you as she shook you gently, her voice soft against your ears, "Are you okay? You took them out yourself?"

"Yea, I'm peachy."

Your smirk reached your eye, and everyone, including Bucky, gave you a smile back; they were all relieved. You placed your palms on the floor, in an attempt to pull yourself back up when Bucky suddenly stepped forward, leaning over you.

Your eyes met his, the second his eyes were face level with yours. The blue in his eyes looked bluer than the ocean. Six months, and you had forgotten how beautiful this man was, how beautiful, yet how broken. You placed your arm around his neck, a mutual understanding passing between the two of you, and the minute he sensed that you were securely latched to his shoulder, his metal arm held you from your waist, pulling you up to your feet until you were back up.

"Buck, we should all get back. Before they come back in more force," Steve commented, breaking the moment between the two of you.

"Well, this was nice," you drawled, absentmindedly, your hand flying up to your frenzied hair as you started curling your index finger against one of the strands. "I should leave."

"The only place you're going now is the Avengers Towers," Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you.

"Did I ask you? You don't have a say in this."

"Jesus, not the two of you again." Natasha sighed, in a frustrated way, running her hands through her hair as she walked off.

"Well, that's my kid in there. I won't take a no. Now, you can voluntarily choose to come with me, back where you should be or–" He took a step closer to you, his face bent slightly so he was glaring into your eyes, not with anger, but with a look of determination.

"Or, what?"

"I'll lift you up and carry you there myself."

Permanent Bucky Barnes Taglist :

@really-dont-forget-it

@thepeakygurl

@all-art-is-quite-useless

@baumarvel

@janajjj

@chipilerendi

@nyotamalfoy

@skittychat

@allidoiswritewritewrite

Want to be added to my taglist? Please fill up a form on this link. 💗

[buggiesbuzzing]

AMARANTH [ c. cullen ]

TITLE :: Amaranth

CHAPTER ZERO :: The Beginning of the End

PAIRING :: Carlisle Cullen x reader, various x reader

GENRE :: Drama

SUMMARY :: Once leading a life of what she seen as relative normality, a sudden change sends poor y/n into a disastrous spiral.

PREVIOUS <

NEXT >

MASTERLIST

Y/n had a normal life, as normal as she could possibly have, and she was happy with the mediocrity. She was rather successful; she was getting married soon, she was working as the personal assistant to a regional manager for some big corporate business and made good money — hell, she even made an effort to reconnect with her parents, before they passed away, that is — she even planned on going to college after getting married so she could pursue a career as a pediatrician. But, of course, life hardly ever goes as planned.

Her life came crashing down towards the beginning of January, during her bachelorette party with a few of her close friends. At first, she hated the idea of having a bachelorette party, but after endless pestering, her friends convinced her to go to a club with them. However, Y/n happened to more introverted and somehow came up with an excuse to hang out in the empty alley behind the club for a breather, and sneaking a secret smoke. She lit the tobacco and inhaled the chemicals, her lungs stinging since she'd abstained from cigarettes for a while. She knew they were toxic to her health, but in overly stressful situations, she would break out the ol' cancer sticks for a bit of relief.

The cool night breeze sent shivers down her spine. She was not wearing the most comfortable winter outfit. Quite frankly, she was freezing her tits off at the chill. The outfit she was in was a pretty small dress with a pair of black boots, revealing a lot of skin, which was borrowed from one of her friends’ closet.

Her cigarette had almost completely burned out when she heard some gravel being kicked around while feet quietly shuffled around on the ground. She became slightly paranoid at the thought of someone being in close proximity to her. She dropped the cigarette butt and stomped out the faltering flame, picking it back up once it was out and tossing it in an outdoor trash bin. When she turned back to see if an animal was causing the little noises, but she was met with a man who had stunningly pale skin and blond hair held up in a ponytail. She was terrified, and her eyes scanned him, looking for any sign of familiarity. Alas, she found none. He was wearing a pair of jeans, but no shirt, which she found strange, especially because it was January and there were flurries of snow falling to the ground.

Y/n had no idea what was going on, but couldn't help the small, scared whimper that she let out when he clamped his cold hand around her mouth with fast, bruising force, ensuring that she couldn't scream out for help. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he sunk his rather sharp teeth into her clavicle. She was terrified, she could only see a glint of red in his eye, before a rush of intense pain coursed through her veins. The blond pulled away from her neck, a bit of red liquid dripping from the corner of his mouth. She choked out a sob and fell to the ground once his hand left her jaw, bare knees hitting the rough, loose gravel.

The doors of the club opened, to reveal a couple of Y/n's girlfriends, worriedly chattering; the stranger darted off, not wanting to be caught. She struggled to stay conscious, her vision becoming worse by the second, black dots spotting her surroundings. She squeaked out a small "help" before collapsing on the ground entirely, the ache still running through her body.

The girls panicked, seeing their dear friend fall unconscious in their peripherals, turning and running toward her. At first, they thought she was a goner, but one of them thought to pull out a small mirror from their purse and stuck it below her nose. Although it was minor, her breathing caused a slight fog on the mirror, letting them know she wasn't dead yet. They let out sighs of relief and did their best to pick up their friend, but the heels they chose to wear were no help to them. Instead of attempting to lug her out and flag down a cab, they focused on trying to find out exactly what happened and who they had to kill for causing this.

One of the girls, Stephanie, looked her up and down, seeing if she had any injuries, and came across a large, bleeding wound on her neck that looked like a bite if you squinted. Stephanie pointed out the spot to the other girl, Lisa, while she fished a makeup wipe out of her purse. She used a wipe to clean up the injury, but Y/n hissed in pain as the wipe made contact with an open part of the wound.

Y/n's eyes opened, and she took a moment to regain herself, pressing her back against the wall of the building. "I. . . I'm gonna go home." She grumbled, bending down to pick up her clutch.

"Are you kidding, Y/n? You need to go to the hospital! That thing on your neck is disgusting!" Stephanie was shocked, she was clearly concerned about the wound, but Y/n didn't seem to care as much.

Lisa chimed in, "It could get infected if you don't get it treated, Y/n, you should have it checked out."

The corner of Y/n's mouth twitched upwards, a weak smile appearing. "Steph, Lis, I can take care of this, it's nothing," It was definitely not nothing. She could feel an ache all throughout her veins and her head felt like it was about to explode. Y/n didn't want them to worry, she knew them all too well and she knew that if the weirdo who bit her gave her some disease they wouldn't stop blaming themselves. "I'll go home, get some bandages and antibiotic ointment, then I'll be good as new. Don't worry."

The girls, very reluctantly, let her go — trusting her instead of arguing with their stubborn friend. "Do you want me to come with? I can help, it's kind of an awkward spot to be fixing up on your own." Stephanie offered.

Y/n shook her head and politely murmured, "No thanks, Steph." They respected her wishes and headed back inside while she caught a cab driving by.

It took only about fifteen minutes for the cab to get her home, opposed to the usual twenty — the driver had seen the dried blood that had stained her skin and decided that it would be best to get there as fast as he could. She thanked the man and paid her fare, plus a hefty tip, before stumbling into her home. It was around midnight when she decided to stop waiting on her fiancé, Tyler, to get home since he was working late, yet again. She dressed her wound in bandages and took some pain killers along with a shot of whiskey to dull the ache, then retired to bed.

The next morning, she felt nothing but the raging pain of her blood coursing through her veins like poison. She swallowed it down with a few shots of hard liquor and her daily medicine. The entire day she was on edge, always looking over her shoulder. She took the day off from work, but her husband hadn't; something about extra paperwork to file before dinner. His parents were coming over to celebrate their engagement over dinner, and although Y/n wasn't feeling good, she wasn't going to up and cancel.

Instead of making a meal, Y/n called a nearby Japanese catering company, ordering a few plates of assorted sushi rolls to be delivered by four o'clock. She didn't worry over the cost, but rather plopped down on the couch, trying to rest before she'd have to deal with her to-be in-laws.

She must've lost track of time because before she knew it, there was a knock at the door, and she was mindlessly getting up to open it. There stood an awkward-looking teen with a few insulated cases in hand. "Ms. L/n?" In response, she nodded and he gestured to a receipt sitting on top of the boxes. "Sign on the dotted line," The delivery boy pulled a blue pen out of his pocket and handed it to her, which she took with hesitation. She signed for the food and took the boxes. "Have a nice day!" He spoke quickly as she shut the door.

"Why can I still smell him? He smells like Frito's dipped in guac," Y/n grimaced, however, the stench made her hungry. "Whatever, I can dig in once they're here." She sighed.

Only moments passed before the door opened, revealing her soon-to-be husband, Tyler, and his parents. Tyler took it upon himself to set the table and help his parents settle in for their stay. Y/n stood in the bathroom, observing her neck and shoulder — whatever used to be there was now but a faint ring mark. Unfortunately, that didn't mean her pain stopped. Thankfully, she had a higher tolerance than most, and a bit of liquor helped.

They were part-way through dinner, and Y/n was picking at her second California roll. She could just barely stand the scents her nose was taking in — and the sushi wasn't the cause. She could separate the smells too; one of them smelt like rotting pears, another was a variation of sour wine, and the final one was by far the one that made her hunger plunge deeper — it was floral, and yet bitter. The sushi was no longer of any interest to Y/n; those smells, though, they were mouthwatering.

"Oh, dear, Y/n," Tyler's mother, Jill, started. "I just don't understand why you couldn't have made the food yourself; then again, you've always been quite a lazy lady." The last part was more of a reminder to herself but still, hurt Y/n nonetheless.

Y/n smiled, but everyone could tell it was fake, and there was nothing but pure rage behind it. "Oh, Jillian, you always critique my cooking skills anyways, so I thought why not save you the trouble and just get food elsewhere." Bitterness seeped from every word she spoke as she glared daggers at Tyler's monster of a mum.

"How thoughtful." The father, Wayne, added, shoving a spicy tuna roll down his gullet.

Jill obviously wasn't happy with the retort and turned to her beloved son. "I can't see why you didn't try to get with that Jessy girl at your office, she was an absolute sweetie; but I guess you like the sour bunch."

Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, if I were in your situation, I'd take the bait," He paused, taking a bite of another sushi roll before speaking up again. "Put in some extra hours, if you know what I mean." He spat, a piece of rice shooting out on his mouth and onto Y/n's nearby plate. Tyler let out a nervous laugh, looking towards his fianceé.

As she got angrier, the smells got more intense and the sound of rhythmic beating and rushing liquid filled her ears. She snapped her eyes shut so she could try to focus, but she just couldn't. Tyler attempted to bring her out of her pained expression with aggressive shoulder tapping, he was met with a push with massive force behind it. Said push sent him hurtling backward into a wall, causing his body to leave a hole in its place before he fell to the ground. Wayne stood up in shock, confused at what had just happened, and something had completely taken Y/n over.

No longer could she ignore her hunger, or the pent up fury within her. She leapt at Wayne, smacking his head against the wall harshly, before looking at Jill, who was going through her purse desperately looking for her Blackberry.

"No phones at the table, Jill." Y/n hissed before, kicking the leg of her chair, snapping the wooden block off, and making Jill fall to the floor.

To Jill, all hope was lost. Within seconds, Y/n fell to the floor and grabbed Jill's arm, biting it. The latter cried out, but Y/n quickly grabbed as much sushi as she could handle and shoved it into her mouth, muffling the screams.

Sharp and strong teeth replaced Y/n's former ones and she mercilessly sucked the blood from Jill's arm. Y/n's eyes had gone dark, and that was all Jill saw before she'd lost a large amount of blood and lost consciousness.

Y/n physically had to rip herself away from her would-be mother-in-law to prevent herself from draining the body completely. Once she had seen what was done, tears streamed down her face. Panic set in, and Y/n stood up and looked around at the mess she made.

Something felt off. Her hands wandered to her mouth, poking at her mouth to realize that her teeth felt much stronger than before and there was a thick layer of blood on her bottom lip. "Holy shit. . ." She gasped, scared of what idea came to mind. "Am I a fucking vampire?"

It sounded even more ridiculous out loud.

Her mind circled back to the blood dribbling down her chin and onto her blouse. What a shame. It was one of her favorites. How was she ever going to rid herself of this mess? This was her house, people in the neighborhood knew her, she would obviously be suspect number one and she had zero idea how to drop off the face of the earth.

Y/n's eyes shifted around the room, looking for some sort of sudden solution to her problems. Sushi, blood, candles, broken wood. . . Candles. . . Fire. She could burn the evidence. Her mind wandered back to the gas canister for her lawnmower; Tyler always kept it full so it would be there when he needed it. She rushed out to the garage, surprised at her speed, and retrieved the red can.

She poured gasoline on the floor, making sure the bodies were doused in the extremely flammable liquid. Let's be honest, if the bodies burnt enough, the police of this town probably wouldn't care enough to look too far into it — they'd most likely mark her off as deceased as well.

She had changed into a pair of thick spandex, a pair of comfortable sneakers, and a hoodie two sizes too large; and at the ripe, late time of '1:27 AM', Y/n snatched one of her lighters and her pack of cigarettes and went outside. She lit a cigarette and took a couple of moments to reminisce. She adored her house, but it could no longer be her home. She wouldn't be safe there, and she couldn't come back. She needed to be far, far away. She couldn't spend a second more there, so she took one last hit and flicked her lit cigarette through the door of the house and took off as flames spread through the house.

Hour, upon hour — they simply passed like minutes. It felt exhilarating to not be tired. She ran all night and the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, soft rays of light filtered through the crowds of trees. She was in a forest of some kind, and she had absolutely no idea where she was. After a couple of minutes of nothing but trees for miles, she stopped.

Somehow she felt absolutely no exhaustion from the obscene amount of physical work she'd just went through. She must've been at least a couple of states away, she should be safe.

tags :: @whattheheckisevengoingon​

[seoafin]

The only thing i could possibly think of was this: gojo and Geto making mc copy Dio when they learned her technique. They promised to steal bring her an old book from the restricted section of the school's library if she did. So you have a bribed mc jojo posing, souting ZA WARUDO at the top of her lungs while activating her technique and freezing the shamans in the courtyard. Gakuganji was there. Suguru filmed it for Gojo since the latter was too busy laughing his ass off. Shoko was disappointed. Good ol' days i'm telling ya.

Yaga has been pranked more than once. (He still doesn't know that mc's been stopping the growth of his beard ever since her highscool days after loosing a bet. She forgot about it. Gojo didn't.)

Aaaaaaa don't stop making me simp for Getwo, he's gonna plague my mind for the days to come T^T (one more reason for this arc to finish besides the pain finally ending: you blessing us with high quality writing on this smooth impostor. I can't wait! ^^)

but like... imagine if geto, still screaming in the back of his mind, is unable to prevent him from kissing mc. iMaGine. Him tilting her chin oh so gently, just like he did the first time. Something isn't quite right. But his lips are warm, so warm, and she could very well lose herself in this. This time, she closes her eyes. He chuckles in the kiss. A time manipulator and Gojo's most precious one trapped in his scheme? Hell yeah.

(Ripverse is golden i am telling you 😂 makes my mind go wild every single time you post something related to it! Do tell if me ranting over how much i love your content gets on your nerves though! Have a lovely night / day!)

asks never get on my nerves omg i’m just happy you enjoy ripverse!!! spam away my inbox is always open 😁

As a diehard jojo fan I wholeheartedly approve this message LMAOOO I can’t believe I forgot about The World!!! That’s like the number one stopping time power ❗️❗️

Geto and gojo would bribe her books omg. That’s like the only thing that works too because she wouldn’t want to break the rules for anything else. She’s embarrassed like hell afterwards (and gets chewed out by yaga along with stsg), but at least she can find comfort in shoko and the book!! Gojo holds the video over her head even today, and Shoko doesn’t tell rip!mc that she also has a copy of it.

Also I love the idea of rip!mc freezing things and forgetting about it!!! She’d freeze food left and right and thank god for it because otherwise it’d be rotting bc of how often she forgets about it. poor yaga’s beard. gojo making bets with rip!mc and her losing every single time. giving gojo control over her cursed technique does not bode well for anyone 😭

This makes me want to write more happy school day fics omg

and as for getwo...dont….don’t tempt me…..

If the shibuya arc ends with geto coming back let me tell you i WILL go feral and my inner geto whore is going to scream!!!

He just looks so good in those robes

[bird-in-a-cage]

Love your writing can you do 112 why can't I sleep? and 137 that wasn't there before? Much love! Hope you obliterate your writing funk! 💚💚💜💜💚💚

Thank you for the request! I was able to put them both together and this was a super fun one to start off with so please enjoy anon!

The prompt list is here if anyone else wants to request a number. There are many that haven’t been picked yet that I’d love to get my teeth into.

Solider

Soldier.

The word kept Billy awake. Many things kept him awake these past couple of days, but he could hear that word so clearly in the dark of his room. The world felt foggy and grey, a million miles away. Max and Neil and Susan. They were in the same building he was sure. Always were. But it didn’t feel like it. Didn’t feel like he was in his room, didn’t feel like he was on his bed with the top sheets kicked away. His brain was on fire. His skin was melting off his bones. Nothing was helping. Having the window cracked open only let in more humid Indiana air. It felt like he was sucking down soup. 

Since the nightmare that had been the factory nothing had been the same. He still wasn’t entirely sure what exactly had happened. If it was real. It couldn’t have been real. But he didn’t know how to explain any of it otherwise. Maybe that psychotic break was finally happening.

Soldier.

Billy cracked open his eyes in the dark. It hurt. Everything hurt. He’d been in pain before, many times, but never anything like this. It was an all out assault. It felt like something was trying to take his brain apart and make a home inside. No amount of migraine pills stolen from Susan’s purse were even touching it. Trying to sleep it out wasn’t working. Not when he could feel every part of him sweating, making his hair heavy and the sheets cling to his body like an unwelcome guest. Maybe it was just a fever, that’s the theory he was running with. A weird midwestern summer flu he just wasn’t indoctrinated too just yet. Next year though he would be just fine, because it worked like chicken pox clearly. Come the morning he could pound down orange juice and just try to carry on. Don’t show weakness.

Soldier.

That word again. Clear as day and just as bold. Billy couldn’t move or be forced to deal with another shooting pain rocketing up his spine like a dog was trying to use it as a chew toy. He’d been on his belly all night, thinking that would help. He’d been suffering for days, he’d try anything at this point. His room was cast in shadows from the streetlight outside. He hadn’t the energy to close the drapes. Hadn’t the energy to do much of anything really, but had to keep going. Don’t show weakness. 

It was agony.

A shadow shifted on the other side of the room. Slithered out from behind the dartboard and merged into the shadows of the things on the mantle. Billy blinked. He couldn’t do much more. The fire in his brain spiked trying to focus on it again. Made him physically groan out into suffocating silence, forcing his eyes shut for just a moment to ride out the wave of discomfort.

Soldier.

The voice sounded louder. Impatient. Sweat beaded off the tip of Billy’s nose into the damp pillow below. He didn’t feel alone anymore. There was a new shadow in the corner of the room now, when he could open his eyes again. The fire twisted and ragged but he forced himself to look. Look at what seemed to be the shadow of a pile of laundry. That hadn’t been there before. There was no pile though. There was never a pile. That wasn’t allowed under Neil’s roof. Hadn’t been allowed since day one. Billy blinked at it. Blinking through pain and sweat and tears threatening to form at feeling so powerless to something beyond his control. It had been many years since he had felt this weak. Being powerless to Neil felt different.

We can help you.

Billy wanted to talk back. Wanted to confront the voice in his head. Wanted to make this all go away. But it was just a fever. All he had to do was ride it out. He’d had fevers before, they were always worse before they got better. He’d take a cold shower in the morning, that might help. Keep to himself at work. He considered, for a small amount of time, calling in sick. He clearly was. But Neil. His wrath would be worse than any fever, no matter how genuine his pain was. It hurt to even breathe. Like his ribs were three short breaths away from cracking and collapsing inwards, shredding his lungs that were filled with thick air like feather pillows.

We can make the pain stop.

God Billy wanted that. To just close his eyes and sleep. Not feel his pulse like a jackhammer cracking his skull apart. Not feel every single nerve ending crackle like lightening with every accidental movement no matter how small. Not feel pain all the way down to his toes and to the ends of his ringing hair. The energy it was taking to be awake, it felt like weeks since he had last slept. He was so tired. Was he always so tired? It was starting to feel like he always had been, in one way or another. Always having to keep one ear open for heavy footsteps in the hall.

We can make you strong Soldier.

The shadow laundry moved. Inflated itself and swelled. Inched closer. Billy would have been scared by that usually, should have been, but his mind was foggy with increasing pain. Splintering with white noise. He wanted to scream but knew nothing would come out. He was going mad.

Let us help you Soldier.

Tears rolled down Billy’s cheeks, staring at a moving shadow that was creeping closer and closer. Growing tendrils, spindly and impossibly long like a horrific spider. Stretching out the entire length of his room. No. No this wasn’t happening. He wasn’t seeing this. He was just delirious with fever. A stupid midwestern fever. An invisible pile of laundry wasn’t inching closer to his bed he was pinned to with pain and sweat. He was just imagining it. He was imagining the voice too. The deep, scratchy voice that sounded barely human, like it was pieced together from other noises to impersonate speech. Like an alien would. None of this was real. Maybe the factory had been imagined too. Maybe that had been the start, he’d just blacked out and imagined it all. Somehow ended back at Cherry Lane.

But, god, he just wanted to sleep.

Billy blinked away tears and sweat as the shadow shrunk and slipped under his bed, disappeared from view like it had never been there. But he felt more frozen to the soaked mattress than ever before. As if pulled down and kept there, held tight by invisible ropes bound around his middle. He was exhausted. On the verge of breaking apart into a million pieces. The white noise behind his eyes turned spiky and sharp, stabbing and piercing. Stronger. There was only so much he could withstand. He was only human.

Solider.

He closed his eyes as a tendrel came from under the bed. Couldn’t stand the pain anymore. Couldn’t stand the delusions. And if whatever was happening, whatever was talking to him, whatever was making him delirious to the point of wanting to just pass out and have this all be over, then this thing could do whatever it wanted.  

Billy was done.

One moment he was on fire. The next he was cool. Cold as ice but able to breathe again. The fire inside his brain was doused. The white noise and the fog remained, he still felt miles away from anyone and anything, but the pain was gone. Freezing cold honey was poured slow and sweet down his spine. It was bliss beyond compare. It was quiet too. He couldn’t hear his heart ringing in his ears or thrumming over his skull that didn't feel like it was going to crack apart like a dropped dish anymore. He could finally get some sleep.

Solider. Rest. We have work to do.

[chocochar]

Hi I would like to request a scenario with the female reader having a fire eater quirk where she can eat flames and spit it back out 10 times hotter. The only trick is she can't produce her own flames. I would picture this reader as a delinquent who spray paints but isn't an actual villain till dabi notices her. End it as you like. Cheers ❤❤❤

(AN:  I think people are catching on that I like writing for Dabi.... lol Anywaaays so this took a different direction than intended. It also was waaay longer than expected too XD but yeah, I hope it’s okay! Reader is 18, a senior in school)

        (F/n) pants as she rounds another corner, running as fast as she can. She holds a spray can in one hand and a black mask hides her nose and mouth, her (hair color) hidden by a beanie and the teen dressed in a black hoodie and jeans to help her hide if she finds an alley she can slip into.

        "Get back here, you punk!!" She hears the policemen behind her shout and she picks up the pace, her legs growing tired and lungs screaming for air but the student keeps running. No one tries to stop her, although they probably figure the cops will catch up eventually and they don't need to get involved. 

        Fortunately (F/n) has come to know these streets like the back of her hand, so slipping down an alleyway she yells back,"Come on, move a little faster!" She can hear there footsteps growing more and more faint as she turns corner after corner starting to slow down herself. Finally she slips between two dumpsters, kneels, and makes herself as small as possible with her hood hiding her face. They're coming, but clearly they don't have a clue where she went when they turn down this alley, panting and ready to give up.

        "Damn, where did that kid go?"

        "I swear I saw them come down here," one replies, the two looking around and getting ready to pass the dumpsters. "Damn kids, spray painting a business." They stop in front of her a couple feet from her, and she stiffens wondering if they found her. 

        'Cops can be blind, but if they see me I'm gonna have a real rough time getting away this time...' She can only see their shoes under the hood but they haven't turned to face her yet so maybe not. She can hear a third set of footsteps coming from the other side of the alley ahead of them, the shoes tapping on the pavement with a slow pace.

        "Hey, you, you seen a kid running through her, dressed all in black, wearing a mask?" The first cop asks the third person to show up; slowly and carefully (F/n) starts raising her head to get a better look at them since they appear distracted. She freezes seeing the immediate fear on the men's faces when the unknown person gets closer.

        "W-Wait a sec, you're-"

        She jolts back in shock when suddenly bright, blue flames begin engulfing the two men and more than half the alley.

        'Wh-What the hell-?!' The teen presses as far back against the wall as possible feeling the heat licking at her face from the intense blaze and watches as one cop manages to use his quirk to deflect them long enough for him to run, his partner already a charred crisp on the concrete. The flames disperse and once the cop is gone and the third set of footsteps start up again, coming this way. (F/n)'s heart is pounding and she feels fear building the closer this murderer gets; they probably don't even realize she's there, and wracking her brain for information judging by the flames color, intensity, and their targets the person must be-

        "Pigs, always gotta make a fuss when they see us," a deep, rough voice speaks up breaking her train of thought and she looks up wide eyed when the unknown man steps into view; Dabi, from the League of Villains! She is silent, starting to shake when he stops and turns his head looking down at her. His intense stare and the way his blue eyes seem to almost glow in the shadowed alley, and the expression she can't read. For this moment she forgets how his quirk won't harm her and only stays still, hoping he'll just keep walking and ignore her. She may be considered a delinquent but a villain is still a villain, even if his quirk can't harm her he's still bigger than her and can overpower her if things got physical. 

        Fortunately he only says,"Guess I found you, not like they're looking for you now, though." before he looks ahead and keeps walking, passing the corpse without a glance and stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. She cautiously peeks out and watches him leave, her shaking ceasing but the girl not moving until she can't hear the click of his boots anymore.

        When he's gone she stands and gives a look at the body, swallowing. She didn't know this would happen, but it still doesn't help the sick feeling settled in her gut as she rushes out of the alley just as sirens are heard.

[X][X][X]

        A week has passed since what happened and (F/n) can't seem to get it out of her head.

        The fire, the death, the intense gaze, they won't leave her mind and even when trying to focus in school (which she doesn't focus much normally) she keeps looking back on that day. She did feel bad for the cop, even at certain points blaming herself despite knowing his death had nothing to do with her. But the main thing on her mind is Dabi. 

        What if he comes to find her and kills her too to get rid of a witness or something?

        He's apart of such a dangerous villain group, why would he let some trouble making kid off the hook? (F/n) has had run ins with the cops before, and while the other cop managed to survive he's been in the hospital in severe, life threatening conditions so they haven't been able to get anything out of him. Her quirk is known by the police, they wouldn't believe her, and worse may try to pin it on her. Maybe he assumed that.  Or she just wasn't worth the effort.

        This mixed with her dad's drinking getting worse she's left with little to nowhere to turn, and almost considers running away or moving in with her grandparents.

        Either way she's been watching her back more than usual, avoiding alleys for now just in case. Who knows what he'll do if they come across each other again.

[X][X][X]

        "(F/n), why the hell did you choose there to tag?!" 

        It's been 3 weeks since the incident, and (F/n) and her friend Hide are out tagging again. The two decided to spray paint the side of a very popular hero store, and now are once again running from a few police who were out on patrol.

        "You do know we could run into heroes right? Did you think about that?!"

        "We've almost lost them, Hide, here you take that way I'll go this way," she points, the two reaching an intersection. (F/n) goes right and Hide takes off left, the (brunette, red head, etc) running as fast as she can and luckily finding an alley entryway ahead right when she rounds the corner. 'I should be able to lose them in there!' She thinks, turning in and looking for a hiding place or ladder she can use to hide up on the buildings.

        But it seems she's made a grave mistake when her eyes meet very familiar cerulean. He's using his flames again, this time on some local gangsters judging by their clothes. Two piles of ash sit side by side on the concrete while the rest manage to run while he's distracted by her showing up. Dabi is staring at her, only this time his face shows more expression. He looks pissed, his brows furrowed and flames flickering over his right cheek and from his right elbow down to his fingertips. She's not shaking this time, but she still is frozen under his intense gaze as he faces her, his hand now covered in the blue fire.

        "You really don't have any other strategy, do you? Stupid kid," his voice is gruff and lacking emotion like before but there's a hint of something dangerous mixed in and lifting his hand he smirks. "And here I thought letting you go last time wasn't a bad idea, but sounds like you brought more cops this time too. Guess I'll have to take care of you this time before we run into each other again."

        (F/n) doesn't have much time to react when fire bursts from his palm aimed for the teen but luckily she breaks out of her frozen trance and pulls her mask down revealing her lips and face. Just as the fire reaches her she starts sucking it into her mouth, every inch being pulled into her mouth and filling her up. Dabi stops and actually looks taken back, his smirk gone and eyes suspicious. "You eat-?"

        Before he can finish she puffs her cheeks and his eyes widen, the man jumping out of the way behind a dumpster just in the nick of time as this time fire blasts past where he's hiding. She blows the fire out of her mouth like a dragon as it makes an 'o' shape, it not being as widespread as his own but he can feel how much hotter it is, having to cover himself behind his coat just to make sure his skin doesn't get worse or burn off completely. When it disappears he peers out, still processing this girl's quirk. It's.... Powerful and deadly, and works really well with his own.

        The sound of her running causes him to jump to his feet and rush out of the alley, watching the teen run off.

        He can hear the sirens in the distance as well as seeing people running, meaning it's about time to go, but he gives a second glance where (F/n) had ran off before disappearing back into the alley.

[X][X][X]

        "You encountered that Dabi guy?!!" Hide exclaims, the two at (F/n)'s apartment eating snacks and playing a multiplayer game together. He noticed how out of it she seemed when they met up, and now that she admitted what happened she's honestly wondering if he believes her or not.

        "Yeah, this isn't the first time either," she says, having trouble concentrating on the game. Her dad will be home soon, she wants to leave before that but he'll just get made again. "I managed to use my quirk, though, caught him off guard."

        "But like, isn't he a scary dude? He and the League? Aren't you scared?" Hide inquires, the boy watching her now and gauging her reactions. 

        She nods, then shrugs, setting the controller down. Without the hoodie the light bruising that's all but gone along with more recent marks on her wrists and arms is out in the open, the girl not hiding them when in front of Hide given he knows the culprit behind them. 

        "Yeah, but I doubt I'm worth that much trouble, they're probably too busy plotting more dastardly deeds," she laughs although it's light and almost forced. Hide sighs, patting her back, but hearing a car door slam she stiffens and he groans.

        "Want me to stay? Or do you think he'll be okay today?"

        She hates involving her friends in her personal things, especially when her dad is involved, so she shakes her head, forcing a smile and saying,"It should be fine, you should go home."

        The night air is crisp and cold biting at (F/n)'s bare skin as she rushes through the dark streets. She didn't even bother with a jacket, a new bruise on her forearm and the girl biting back the tears threatening to fall. 

        'I hate him, so much, I just... I wish he'd just disappear! Why can't he see how he treats everyone?! Why mom left us?! Why-'

        "Y'know, without that mask and get up you're actually pretty cute."

        She stops abruptly and freezes up when that familiar voice hits her ears again. Slowly she turns around and watches as Dabi steps out from the shadows, hands in his pockets and his expression aloof as always. His eyes are scanning the girl until they land on her arms, the lighting from the stores making it easier to see the bruises. She's sure it was just a trick of her eyes but it almost looked like his own turned soft, or something like it, but she's sure her mind is just messing with her.

        "Looking to kill me again?" She asks, facing him and while she's trying to stay strong he can already see how she's crumbling inside. "I didn't bring cops this time, but that doesn't matter, huh? You just want to take me out cause I'm a nuisance right?" Her tone has bite to it, while still being shaky with a tremble. But something tells him it isn't because she's scared of him. 

        Holding out her arms she exclaims,"Then do it, do it already! I won't stop you this time!" She waits for him to burn her to a crisp just like the others but is confused when he just rubs his neck and replies,"Keep it down already, do you want to wake up the whole neighborhood? I didn't expect you to be so noisy."

        "You... Aren't you going to kill me? Isn't that why you're here?"

        He shrugs, saying,"Keep being loud and I might, it'd be a shame to burn that pretty little face." But his words don't hold that same threatening tone like they did earlier that day, more like it's just an open threat. Her cheeks turn pink but she ignores it.

        "Then I'm leaving-" She turns ready to keep going.

        "Wait, dollface, I wanted to talk," he moves quickly stepping in front of her. They're only a foot away from each other now allowing her to smell the smoky scent on him and get a better look at his features, namely his scars, staples, and piercings. She takes a small step back in surprise and meets his hypnotizing orbs, also realizing he's.... Handsome, something she really couldn't admire before or ever think she'd have that sort of thought. Despite the scars and staples she feels her cheeks flushing, hell those add to his look; she almost wants to reach up and feel them, see if they really are real or not.

        She shakes her head and misses what he says while scolding herself in her head,'He's a villain, and he tried to kill me, stop being weird!!' "Wh-What? What did you say?"

        He narrows his eyes, not enjoying the way she's staring at him and even zoning out. To him she's most likely looking at his scars, whether that's a bad or a good thing he doesn't really care. But he lets it slide this time and repeats himself.

        "I said, dollface, I'm here to talk to you about something important. To be honest the League would've probably kidnapped you either way, but judging by those something tells me that won't be necessary," he gestures to her arms, and even surprises her when he takes hold of the one with the newest bruise and starts looking them over more closely. "Been a while since I've seen something like this..." he mumbles to himself, not stopping her when she yanks her arm back and tries to hide them, brows furrowed.

        "What did you need to talk to me about, and how important is it?" She asks without hesitation, her own wounds clearly being a touchy subject too. He puts his hands back in his pants pockets and stares at her, the teen shifting uncomfortably under the gaze of the beautiful cerulean.

        "The League is looking to recruit you," these words completely catch her off guard and her eyes grow wide while her mouth gapes. "Well, it's more like I was for once impressed by someone not looking to be a hero so I decided to tell our leader about you. After he bitched about adding another to our pile of misfits he agreed it'd be beneficial to add you on." He waits for her response, watching her face for any change in reaction. Her mouth closes slowly and she looks down, her mind buzzing and the girl almost wondering if she heard him wrong. She had to right? Slowly the reality sinks in as to why he came looking for her, the fact he admitted he was impressed with her quirk was quite the surprise too. He definitely doesn't seem the type to hand out compliments often.

        Looking back up she rubs her arm, biting her plump lip. Which he can't help but watch a little; she's cuter than he was expecting, and he oddly has this weird feeling stir in his chest when he looks at those marks all over her. They resonate with him, his own memories flooding through his mind, and while she'd be very beneficial to the League he now has other reasons for wanting to recruit her. He wants to learn more about her, get to know her, and show her how corrupt their society is. He also has this underlying feeling of protecting her, something he wouldn't do for anyone else but somehow this girl is different.

        "And why should I go with you?"

        "Because, sweetheart, we've been in the same boat as you. Mistreated, used, turned away when we needed help. This is a society full of falsehoods, corrupt bastards sitting on top, they care about you about as much as they did about the rest of us. And we want you to see that too," he states, before taking a step back and pulling his hand out of his pocket, holding it out for her to take. "I want you to see that. Come with me, and you won't have to worry about those ever again."

        A smile comes to his lips, waiting for her answer.

(AN: Okay so like, this was way longer than intended, like 3000 words and counting, also I left it open ended for either a possible sequel or for the reader to decide.  Also he’s totally not Touya in this lmao (〃￣ω￣〃)ゞ I hope it's okay, story also took a different direction too, hope Dabi wasn't OOC and hope you enjoyed lol)

[wunderlass]

Sidewalks are iced over and Darcy can't get to where she's going. Bucky tries to help her out but they end up in a pile on the ground. I love your fics!!!

Thank you Nonny! Here you go...

“Oh no! No no no no no no—”

Darcy’s only vaguely aware of Bucky creeping up behind her as she’s chanting her litany of denial. Probably because he is creeping, which he always refutes doing on purpose, but since she’s developed a sixth sense for his presence it’s led to less screaming on her part.

Though, if you pressed her, Darcy would admit the sixth sense is closer to a swarm of butterflies that flip out when he’s within ten feet of her.

“What’re you freaking out over?” he asks, peering out of the same window she’s staring out through. Gruff as ever, though she’s secretly thrilled he’s even talking to her. Normally he does an about turn if they’re the only people in the room and leaves.

“The sidewalks are completely iced over. Look at them!” She points at what, at this stage, look like exceptionally long, polished mirrors set into the road. A day of rain followed by an overnight freeze would do that.

“So stay indoors ‘til it melts,” he says with a shrug. “It’s cold as balls out there anyway.”

“I would, but I have to get to the post office,” she whines. “If I don’t get these parcels sent to day, they won’t be there on time!”

“It’s only a block away,” he reminds her. 

“I will die.” Darcy knows she’s being melodramatic but she can’t help it, his stoic exterior always gets to her this way. “Do you know how hard it is for me to walk across a normal flat surface with perfect friction and not fall on my ass? Very! Going out there today is asking for a broken leg.”

He’s silent for a moment before he speaks again, in that low, permanently husky way of his. “What if I came with you?”

Darcy’s so surprised she doesn’t really have a response for him at first. Bucky’s never volunteered to spend time with her before and hates leaving the safe house without back-up from others.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “Because it’s one thing for to risk life and limb when they’re mine, but another to risk somebody else’s.”

“I’m sure. The city’s quiet, and I can get around on ice. It’ll be a ten minute round trip, won’t it?”

“I guess.”

“Then suit up. Good boots and lots of layers. Meet you at the door in five.”

Darcy does as instructed, feeling a little bit like a blimp the way she’s swaddled in a sweater and coat, but at least it’ll be provide padding if they do go down. Bucky’s not nearly as bulked up, but he claims to never feel the cold like the rest of them do. His hands are gloved and he’s got combat boots on under his jeans, probably for better traction. Then he does something completely unexpected: he offers Darcy his arm.

“Are you sure?” she asks for a second time, and this time he only rolls his eyes in response.

He smells good up close, all soap and subtle aftershave, and she pretends the butterflies haven’t just started a riot inside her.

Their breaths fog out once they leave the apartment building, and Bucky takes the bag of parcels from Darcy so her spare hand is free. This doesn’t seem like the best plan to her, but it does mean she only focuses on keeping herself upright and doesn’t have to worry about anything she’s carrying.

In a holiday miracle, they make it to the post office with only a few worrying slides and false starts, but Bucky’s right about his ability to keep them on their feet. He waits for her outside but the line is short, since everyone else has stayed indoors and avoided the skating rinks the streets have become. 

It’s the return journey where they get cocky. They pace themselves a little too fast, and one mis-step sees the pair of them gliding along for a sickening moment. 

They know they’re going down, and there’s nothing they can do to stop it; Darcy’s ashamed to admit her arms start windmilling, even as Bucky grabs her around the waist to try and keep her up. Their eyes meet and she can see the whites of his before she lands on her ass, hard. The momentum keeps her sliding right down onto her back.

Then the wind gets knocked out of her lungs by Bucky landing on top of her. 

He’s a solid, heavy guy, but Darcy’s traitorous body is beyond caring about petty things like oxygen right now. He’s warm, and smells amazing, and she doesn’t care that she’s going to be one big bruise tomorrow.

“Did you break anything?” he mumbles somewhere in the vicinity of her ear, and she shakes her head, aware that her cheeks have gone from a rosy flushed-with-cold pink to something closer to Rudolph’s-nose red, if the burning she feels is any indication.

“No. You?” 

He’s already pushing himself upright and away from her, but all he ends up doing is getting onto his knees, one foot underneath him, and collapsing back on the pavement beside her.

Darcy can’t help it. She bursts into peals of giggles.

To her amazement, Bucky joins her. Not with giggles, but in deep guffaws that make his shoulders shake and her cheeks hurt from smiling. When they settle down, he holds a hand out to her, but all they do is push themselves upright and continue laughing at each other.

For the first time since she’s met him, there’s a sparkle in Bucky’s eyes. Humor, and something more, something like the interest she quietly carries for him.

In the moment before he speaks again, the humor vanishes, but the spark doesn’t. “Coffee?” he asks in that low rasp.

“Thought you’d never ask,” she replies, and puts her gloved hand in his.