#on training her. you know so another child didn’t die on his watch.

[raeofgayshine]

Whoops I accidentally found my will to write with a silly little au my friend and I made only it’s just little snippets of Bernard and Tim being parents while in their villain era (Tim is a Cobblepot, long story, Riddler accidentally brought home a stray), except their child has lightning powers and is also a Raiden clone from another world (again another long story, Liu Kang was making baby clones of the Kombatants but then Kitana caught him so he started yeeting them through worlds, Tim and Bernard wound up with Raiden and Jason actually adopted Kung Lao). And Tim kind of took after Oswald so he’s also running a club and doing a lot of business, shady or otherwise, making connections, etc. and Bernard runs the front of house for The Den (Tim’s club) so sometimes their son is there but he’s wearing a dragon costume so it’s fine, he’s like their mascot.

And it’s just my two favorite nerds doing their best to raise a child who has weird powers, but they have the support of their villain/murder family and Oswald and Ed/Riddler are proud grandparents and Steph is the favorite bi aunt and also godmother (and also Spoiler has become more like Red Hood these days. She’s realized being friends with Tim that things would never improve without getting your hands dirty. She kills people now, but mostly she just controls part of the city and helps Red Hood out. Also she’s dating Cassie/Wonder Girl but that’s not important.)

[elizabethemerald]

Don't Sneak up on People with Swords

@im-totally-not-an-alien-2 made a prompt about Danny sneaking up on Jason Todd and @sky00asara made a comment in the tags about what would happen if Danny did that to Talia. So here is my version of that! Enjoy.

Talia al Ghul watched her beloved from afar. He was out, again patrolling his city for those he considered wrong doers. Her son was by his side. She scowled at how Damian’s fighting style had changed, softened in the company of her beloved. Despite her love for the man under the cowl, he had a tremendous ability to take even the most ruthless of killers and change them to spare the undeserving. He had even tried it with her. 

She was hidden on the roof of an abandoned tower nearby. The tower had succumbed to fire and was now condemned until the city got around to destroying it properly. For now it made the perfect place for her to observe her beloved and her son work undisturbed. 

“Excuse me?” 

Talia whirled, drawing her blade as she spun. Her blade moved fast enough to almost cut the air itself yet the small shape ducked under her stroke and back-pedaled quickly to move out her range. 

“Jeez! Why is everyone in this city so jumpy!” 

The voice more than anything made her realize that the person who had somehow snuck close enough was an actual child. Their black hair and blue eyes made her wonder if this was another of her beloved’s adoptees. Except surely this boy was too young to catch Bruce’s eye? 

“Well maybe you should not sneak up on people?” Talia hissed, her voice soft yet stern. To say nothing of how a child who couldn’t be older than five had snuck up on her at all. 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t brood on the roof of my home!” The child snarked back, just like one of the Bat’s brood would, completely unafraid of the blade still in her hand. Talia raised an eyebrow at him then looked around at the burnt skeleton of the building they were standing on. 

“This building is not fit for human occupation.”

“Neither was the last place I lived.” He said dismissively. “This place hasn’t even killed me yet, so it’s practically a paradise.” 

She was tempted to take the child’s words as sarcasm, yet something in the way he spoke made her think he meant it more truthfully. 

“You’ve died before?” Talia asked. She relaxed her hold on her blade, allowing it to rest at her side. 

“Oh yeah, I die all the time.” He said, then he looked at her curiously tilting his head first one way, then another. “You’ve died too, huh?” 

She nodded, now examining him closely, looking for the signs she would recognize. She could see the hint of a scar on the boy’s palm that might have caused a death. 

“What is it with this town that so many people have died and come back?” The boy asked, apparently rhetorically as he didn’t let her answer. “First the stabby Robin, then the stabby Batgirl, then Batman, and even Red Hood. It’s like everyone I run into is contaminated.” 

Talia’s eyes widened. 

“You can sense those who have utilized the Lazarus Pits?” She would have to inform her father about this child. He could put the entire League of Assassins at risk. The child before her just shrugged. 

“I have no idea what that is. Red Hood mentioned some kind of pit as well, but I’ve never seen anything like that. I just know y’all are contaminated with ectoplasm, though not enough to make a core.” 

“What is this… ectoplasm?” Another name for the Lazarus Waters? Had there perhaps been a Pit outside of League control? In the midwest somewhere based on the boy’s accent. 

“Oh it’s this stuff.” He held his hand out and Talia couldn’t help keep her expression of shock withdrawn despite all her training as his hand filled with the glowing green light of the Pits. He held the Pit Water in his hand then tossed the glowing orb to his other hand in a half juggle as if he weren’t carrying the League's greatest secret and weapon. 

Nevermind telling her father about this child, he could never learn of him. If Ras had the power this child had under his control the world would never survive. There was only one option. She needed to train this child to wield this strength. With the stealth he displayed in sneaking up on her and his power over the Pits themselves he could make an assassin like the world had never seen. He could be the next Head of the Demon under her guidance. She knelt down to the boy’s level, slipping her sword back away as she did so. 

“Tell me, young one. Are you living in this death trap of a building all by yourself?” 

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of. I know I’m little, but that just means people are less likely to notice me. I’m able to steal all the food I need from that big box store down the street.” 

“Oh of that I have no doubt. My name is Talia al Ghul. What’s yours?” 

“Hmm. I’m Danny.” The boy seemed hesitant to trust her, which to be perfectly honest was probably a very smart thing to do, but at least she had a name for this gift of Lazarus. 

“Danny, how would you like to come live with me? You won’t have to steal any more, or worry about food ever again, and I could train you how to fight even better than the Bats.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her over closely. 

“Would I get a sword?” 

“If a sword is what you want, then once you were trained in its use I would acquire one for you.”

Danny looked like he was about to nod, but then he froze, his head tilting to the side as if he was listening to something. His eyes widened and Talia tensed. 

“Uh-oh. Fruit Loop incoming. I gotta go.” 

Talia half turned as she heard the sound of one of her beloved’s grappling lines catching on the building’s edge. By the time she had turned back to face him, Danny had completely vanished. She hadn’t even heard him leave. She stood and scowled as her beloved landed on the rooftop next to her. 

“Talia.” He grunted at her, glaring all the while. 

“Beloved. Must you ruin every nice thing in my life?” Talia snarled back. The boy, Danny, had the gift of Lazarus at his beck and call and Batman had scared him off. 

Bruce looked momentarily stunned at her fury, but quickly hid it behind his mask. However Talia couldn’t care less about her beloved right now. She just needed to lose him so she could return to find the boy. The boy who would change the world with his power. 

[silkscream]

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

[valliesworld]

You Mean Something

masterlist

simon “ghost” riley x reader, mentions of other task force 141 members

genre: angst

warnings; she/her pronouns, mature content, standard call of duty violence, cursing, kidnapping, mentions of self harm and suicide, mentions of torture, starvation

synopsis; after a failed mission that left you in the hands of the enemy, you finally realise how much Ghost cares for you

Distractions came easy to you, even if you tried your hardest to stay focused, to stay alive and awake, your mind still thought of him while you were being subjected to such torture. You think about his eyes a lot, how in his eyes his his humanity was shown, the person he really was. There were times it got lost, when he would that mask and military vest, when he would become the man the army demanded of him. But you saw it in his eyes that day in the sunshine, waiting for the cadets to finish training. You saw the humour that burned there too, the sort that stays for an eternity. There was something in his spirit that danced when he trains, like a fire giving just the right amount of warmth. You have seen it die too, the flames almost extinguished, when he was under the gun of guilt, shame and fear after a particularly hard mission. You know that isn't him, not the real version, the person you’ve grown to love with everything that is yourself. That's why you had to see his eyes before you go, to see the real him before you decided to give up and let death win. You wanted him to see you too, the girl who messes up, but would do anything in her power to keep him and the squad safe, to keep him emotionally healthy, no matter how deep his scars go. So when you think of him, you see a cheeky man who made cadets run laps til they turned green and hope to god he thinks of the vulnerable version of you, the one beneath the soldier.

In moments of silence, when your captors would leave you be, you would remembered the last conversation you had with your family. She had wished you well with tears in her eyes, making you promise you’d come back to her. Your father had been busting himself with house work, refusing to acknowledge that his youngest child was off to another suicide mission, just like he always did before you left. You had kissed your mother on the cheek as a goodbye, not promising a thing but granting her a smile, just in case that was the last time she’d ever see you again. Death wasn’t scary for you, you had accepted that you would die young, in your line of work death was not something that could be prevented, no matter how hard you might try. What did scare you though, was your nieces and nephews growing up without you, only seeing you in photos, it was your mother and father having to bury their youngest, it was your older brother and sister living without you. Death didn’t scare you, but the impact of yours on your family did.

You didn't know how long you had been held captive for, it could have been weeks, months, even years, at that point. What you did know was that the starvation they subjected you to as one last punishment had began to take it's toll on your body, your weight had dropped rapidly, leaving those metal cuffs loose around your wrists and ankles. At first it had been small strands of hair falling out from stress, then slowly it became more and more til you were left with thin strands to cover your head. Your body was always shivering, cold to touch, and you didn't know whether it was because you were forced to sleep on freezing concrete or if hypothermia was beginning. to settle within your bones.

Makarov had captured you for one thing, he had seen potential in you, wanted you on his side, and the only way he believed he could do that was if he broke you down into nothing, just to rebuild you as the soldier he always desired. He had watched from afar as you had taken down men three times your size, as you cleared bases by yourself, and how you lived up to your callsign. He knew you were young, younger than the other task force members, and with being young came being naive and impressionable, Makarov wanted to use those attributes and swing them to his favour.

In some of your exhausted delusions, you dreamt of your team, of your family. You had dreamt of your first Christmas with the task force, how you had sat in your room with the computer screen on, talking and listening to your family on the other line, wishing to be back home and apart of their celebrations, that was, until Gaz barged into your room and dragging you out for a Christmas surprise with your chosen family. You had dreamt of the day you accepted death, how you leant up against that brick wall, the rain pouring from above and mixing with your blood; red water sweeping the street. You had accepted your fate that afternoon, dying alone, until you knight in a shining skull mask whisked you off your feet and to survival. You dreamt of the day your nephew was born, how his tiny hands wrapped around your finger, chosing you to be his favourite person in that moment. You dreamt of many things, but one always kept returning. The delusion that Ghost would save you one last time.

"Fear is part of being human, Redback, it's the precursor to bravery. We need it, it wakes us up to what needs to be done. So feel it, own it, let it ignite your thoughts," Gaz's words echo in your mind constantly, they were one of the first words he ever spoke to you, and they resonated with her throughout her short years with the task force. They kept you alive at that point, they told you no matter how inhuman you felt, you were still alive, still breathing, still ready to fight.

Your cell was a hollow cube of concrete, one way in, no windows. In there you could have no idea how much time had passed or even if it was night or day. It was totally disorientating by design. Given enough time a person could forget their own name in there, and you were beginning to. The isolation was total and the stimulation was zero. No sound, no light, no furniture or cloth of any kind.

You could hear the sound of feet slamming against concrete, though your eyes never opened, refusing to see what was coming to torment you that time. They had stripped you of everything, they took your weapons, and your dignity. They had left you to rot in the cell in cotton underwear and a white undershirt, though both items were caked in dirt, grim, and stained with your own blood.

The sound of keys jingling had caught your attention, and when you opened your eyes you kept your gaze away from the intruder. Instead, you found the bruises and dried blood on your ankles far more interesting. The person had unlocked your hands first, fumbling with the keys as if he were nervous, as if something had gone wrong, and that had been his first mistake. When your hands were greeted freedom, you finally looked over at the man, your knife, the one they had stolen from you, sat perched on his hip. They had stolen your gear just to use it against you, and that fact gave you more motivation than anything previously, you wanted your things back.

Without a second of hesitation, your hands wrapped around the knife, plucking it from his tactical belt, your tactical belt, and plunged it into his thigh. He cried out in pain, something you never gave them the satisfaction of hearing, as he doubled over from the fiery sensation in his leg you pulled the knife out again and plunged it into his neck, blood that was not yours finally coating your body again. As you let out all your frustration on the man, pulling the knife out just to slam it back in over and over again, you began to register the sound of gunfire, the sound of Russian shouting, and the feeling of panic the base you were trapped within was beginning to feel.

Once you were positive the man below you was dead, you began stripping him as they had once stripped you. You took the keys from his cold, dead hands, and unlocked your feet from the shackles, your ankles screaming in relief. You then took his clothing, albeit they were far too large for you, they were better than what you had been forced to stay in for your time as a prisoner. Tightening the pants around your waist with your belt, you felt somewhat okay, you didn't feel helpless or hopeless, you felt determined, determined to get out of there yourself, since there would be no rescue party for you.

Gripping onto the rifle, one that wasn't yours originally, you began your escape. As you made your way through the base, leaving a trail of bodies behind you, you felt like yourself again, you felt like the soldier once were. You had reminded yourself of things that were facts; you were one of the youngest ever recorded female members to join the SAS, you were an accomplished soldier, a sergeant before your twenty first birthday, you were a force to be reckoned with; those facts kept you motivated throughout your escape, you were all those things, and more, and you could get yourself out of any situation.

Sticking to the shadows, you took down over twenty soldiers, cornering them til they were alone, and that tactic had worked well enough, til your luck ran out. The corner you took was one of bad judgement, over fifteen men resided there, all on high alert for your whereabouts, and with no shadows to conceal yourself, you had no other option but to simply turn back around, though when you did so, you found yourself face with thirty other men, ready to pounce. Weighing your options, you knew that to surrender was your only choice, if you wanted to stay alive. Letting the rifle hang from your shoulder, you held your hands up, defeat running thick through your veins.

They didn't make a move though, not one soldier stood out of line, all of them waiting for you to make the first move, to do something unpredictable, until he sauntered out of the crowd. Makarov's second in charge, Yuri, grinned like a mad man as he gripped you roughly, pulling you in the direction of another room and dismissing the men on guard. You were no longer deemed as a threat as he led you into the room, far nicer than the cell you had grown accustomed to.

He stripped you of your weapons, though he was not thorough, leaving your bloodied knife within your waistband as he took the rifle and pistol from your body, turning the safety on and throwing them across the room.

"I thought we beat the need to escape out of you," he tsked, hands feeling your body in a way far less appropriate than simply looking for weapons. "But I now see that you have to be broken in a different way to get you to comply with our rules."

Your heart dropped to your stomach as the five other men walked through the door, dragging their bodies with them. Three had a grip on Ghost's sluggish body, and two were struggling against Soap's protests. The men forced Ghost and Soap to their knees, Ghost having to steady himself by placing his hands in front of him to keep him from falling foreword. They had drugged him, most likely using the same one they had used to keep you compliant in the first weeks of your capture.

"Redback?" Ghost questioned softly as he looked towards you, confusion running through his mind.

"These two were found sneaking around our base," Yuri revealed, toying with a piece of your hair as he forced you to look at them. Soap held a look of distraught as he looked over at you, like he had just seen a real ghost, while Ghost's eyes held a look of resentment within them. You weren't sure who the resentment was pointed towards, but you had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't directed at you. "And now you'll watch them die."

Yuri stepped foreword, his own pistol raised, pressing the barrel against Soap's head as he looked back at you. With a clenched jaw, you pulled the knife from your waistband and pressed it against your wrist. The sharpness of it caused a small speck of blood to dribble down your arm and drip to the floor, but despite the sting you kept it in place.

"Makarov wants me, you kill them and I'll die with them," You spoke clearly, despite your voice being hoarse from not speaking for days on end. "How would that look for you? Under your watch, his prized possession dies because you can't do your fucking job right."

Yuri let out a dry chuckle, "so loyal," he commented, looking towards the men knelt before him, "and where are your pleas? When she was taken from you, you left her. Maybe you two would rather her blood spill to cover your sins."

"Shut up," You hissed, their silence to his words were deafening, a heartbreaking scene as Ghost looked anywhere but at you.

"I want you to memorise this moment, they weren't here to rescue you," Yuri growled, "They were completing another mission, and you so happen to be here as well."

Ghost's eyes, despite hooded with the effects of the drug, widened slightly, struggling even harder against the three men that held him in place. Soap on the other hand, used the distraction as an ample time to escape. Taking the gun from Yuri, Soap pointed it towards the men holding him down and left off two shots, killing them quickly. You had taken this opportunity to throw the knife, watching with a sickening smile as it lodged itself into Yuri's chest. Ghost, regardless of being under the influence of a drug, took down two of the men holding him hostage while Soap let off another shot into the final man.

Ignoring the two men, you walked over towards Yuri, watching as he spluttered out in pain. Hovering over him, you crouched down, twisting the knife deeper into his chest. Pulling it out, you relished in the pool of blood that began to form.

"I want you to memorise this moment," You repeated his words to him as you dragged the bloodied knife down his cheek, smearing his own blood on his face, "that nobody is here to rescue you." and with that, you plunged the knife up through his bottom jaw.

Months had come and gone, and you had not spoken a word to anyone on Task Force 141 since you had been brought back to the. safety of your base. The wounds, the injuries to your flesh would heal long before you're able to heal your brain. You had gone through a lot, many scars now littered your body, your ankles and wrists having a permanent red line from the rubbing of your shackles, and your mind was in shambles. Laswell had told you that they hadn't looked for you once, that they assumed you were dead and had even informed your family of you being killed in action. You felt almost betrayed that they didn't even bother to look for you, that the mission was more important to them, to Ghost, than to see you still breathing.

The doctors had gotten you healthy again, gave you the fluids and sustenance you had been deprived on before setting you up with a physiotherapist. That man had retaught you how to do simple tasks, explaining to you that the only reason you were capable of such things during your escape was because of the adrenaline coursing through your veins. It had taken you four months to get back to doing things on your own, and an additional three months before you were back to your usual abilities, and still within all that time, you refused to look at the men that had left you in the hands of the enemy. They had offered you leave, to go home and spend time with family, but if the mission was as important as leaving behind a team member, it only made sense to stay and complete it before gifting yourself with seeing your parents relieved faces.

The gym was quiet at three am, sleep no longer a need for you as it only plagued your mind with unwanted memories. The sound of your knuckles coming in contact with the rubber punching bag silenced your mind, created an inner peace within you as you assaulted the equipment. Nobody else resided inside as you continued to push your abilities, seeing just how long you could do this before getting tired. You used to be able to go for hours, but now, it seemed that you could only do half of that.

Your inner peace was quickly ruined by the sound of heavy footsteps, and before you could even register what was happening, his hands wrapped around your waist and pushed you against the closest wall. He turned you to face him, the hard skull plate from his mask was gone, his balaclava the only thing separating them from each other. His breathing was heavy and his eyes were hooded from lack of sleep, the black war paint he usually sported was not there, leaving his expressions easier to read.

"You never threaten to kill yourself to save me again," His voice was rough, reminding you of a hot long black in the early of the morning, bitter and abrasive, burning your tongue. "I'd rather get shot ten times over than ever see you do that again."

Scoffing, you looked at him with a frown, "A few months too late for this revelation, Lieutenant."

"I don't care," He huffed, grip on your waist loosening, "You don't get to do that shit, not anymore."

"And you don't get too care, why do you even care? Huh?" You spluttered out, words dripping with venom, "You left me there to die, Laswell told me everything, told me how you all didn't even give me a second thought, told my fucking family I was dead."

"I watched you die," He growled out, "I watched as that bullet went through your chest, as you fell to the ground."

"And you didn't think to check? The mission that important to you that you can't go over to a wounded soldier and check if their heart is still beating?" You all but screamed at him, if you were anyone else, your yelling at a superior would go severly punished, "I was wearing a fucking chest plate, you saw me put it on, you checked I had it on before we started that fucking mission, and you still left me for dead."

"You don't think I don't remember that now?" He yelled back. at you, voice booming throughout the gym, "You don't think I wasn't awake every night wondering about you? Thinking of things I could have done differently? I completed that mission and went back for you, you were gone."

"Why do you care so much?" You hissed at him, "The first time we met you told me that I'd be another dead body at the edge of your boot because you didn't think I was good enough, why care now?"

"Because you mean something to me," He revealed, though his words were sweet his tone wasn't, it was like he resented the fact that you meant something to him, "you mean more to me every single day, that's why I care."

[houserautha]

These Destined Ends

Part Ten

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: talk of death and dying, grief, reader gets to a pretty bad place, stabbing

A/N: It’s earlyyyyy. If this was a Friends episode, it would be called, “The One Where Reader Loses Her Goddamn Mind”

As a child, Gurney would take you to the seashore to reward you for a particularly good session, whether it be academic or physical training. You used to look forward to these rare occasions. Not only because you loved the sea, but because your beloved mentor would loosen and his scarred face would slip into a semblance of a smile. On this specific day, you remember the sky being impossibly blue and the water still as a puddle.

You had reveled in your good fortune.

Laughing, you had initiated your favorite activity — chasing the waves down the shore then running away as the tide crashed at your heels. The memory of that day invoked a sense of warmth and safety, enveloped by the sunlight and the briny smell of the sea.

You had taken a break from your antics to catch your breath when you noticed dimples forming in the sand whenever the water receded.

You squatted down, sea-sprayed pants rolled to your calves, to inspect your discovery. After a few moments, you realized that snails are causing the dimples, being no longer than your pinky nail and entombed in pastel-colored shells. Delighted, you watched them scurry to bury themselves in the sand before trying to grab one for yourself. You dug fervently in the wet sand, giggling as they slipped out of your still chubby fingers.

Finally, finally, you managed to scoop up a hunk of crumbling sand that hosted one of the tiny snails.

Crying out triumphantly, you hurriedly brushed the sand from its purple-colored shell and then held it up to the sun. The small, nearly translucent creature disappeared into its home. But you didn’t care. You found it and it’s yours. Gurney, sitting in the sand a few feet away, calls, “What did you find?”

You skipped over to him. Slowly uncurling your careful grip, you showed him your treasure.

“It’s a snail,” you had told him enthusiastically, “I caught him in the tide.”

Gurney smiled indulgently at you. “How cunning you are, Lady Y/N.”

You started to dance, nonsensical and without rhyme or reason, the dance of small children so possessed by happiness that you needed to release it somehow. “I’m going to take it home and show Papa,” you said as you spun away, snail clutched to your chest.

Later, Gurney approached you. His feet had been bare and encrusted with sand, face reddened by too much sun. He squinted at you. “Lady Y/N, I must tell you something.”

“Hm?” You had been busy balancing on a piece of driftwood, arms spread out like wings. You had transferred the snail to your pocket after worrying your sweaty palms would lose grip on him.

“You must return your friend to the sea.” When you gazed up at him in disbelief, he ruffled your hair. “It will die if you take it from its home.”

“But…but I love him,” you said with child-like solemnity. Your lower lip jetted out.

Gurney’s smile turned pitying. “I know you do, Lady Y/N. You have a gentle heart. But sometimes, when you love something, you must let it go so it can be happy and safe. You want your snail to be happy, don’t you?”

You paused and considered this, then nodded.

Stepping off the driftwood, you moved a few paces closer to the shoreline and laid the snail lovingly atop it. It wiggled into the sodden sand and vanished as the tide washed over it.

Tears that you were too ashamed to shed burned your eyes, and you sniffed.

“You did the right thing, Lady Y/N,” Gurney had told you, “because of you he will live another day.”

You thought that by journeying to Giedi Prime, by marrying the na-Baron, you would be ensuring the happiness and safety of your family and beloved mentor.

But now, like the tide washing over the snail, they were gone.

At first, you were detached from reality, wavering slightly. Asha and Feyd and the servants stared at you. It felt as if a numbing agent had swept over you, completely obliterating any sense of self. You ran the words over and over in your mind, hoping that if you repeated them enough you might be able to change their meaning.

The House of Atreides has fallen. The House of Atreides has fallen. The House of Atreides has —

Tears blurred your vision. Your lower lip trembled. You said, very quietly, “You did this.”

“Y/N,” Asha had said, stepping towards you.

“You did this,” you repeated louder, voice loathsomely tremulous. The numbness in you turned sharp and jagged. “You did this. You knew. You knew.”

Asha started, “We didn’t —”

“You think we did this?” Feyd snapped.

You barely heard him as the pieces fell into place, memories of the last few months surfacing and creating your gruesome truth. The threats from Rabban, the Sardaukar soldiers, Rabban’s recent departure. There was no doubt the Harkonnens were behind your family’s downfall. Had they all known? Were you just another pawn in another game that you hadn’t wanted to play?

Hysteria crept into your tone. “You knew. You knew. And you lied! You fucking lied! All this time you knew they were going to kill my family and neither of you did anything.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Feyd sneered.

Asha looked to him, alarmed. “na-Baron, perhaps this isn’t the best time to —”

“If I wanted to kill your family, I would’ve done it on our wedding day,” Feyd continued as if she hadn’t spoken. He advanced on you. “We had no hand in their deaths.”

“Don’t come near me.” You held up a hand to prevent him from getting any closer. Your gaze flickered between Asha and Feyd, to the servants watching the entire scene unfold with wide eyes. “None of you come near me.”

“Y/N —”

“GET OUT!” You screamed. Tears had streamed down your face then, which was surely reddened by anger and grief. “All of you! Get out!”

The servants scurried away, leaving Asha and Feyd in their wake. They stared at you; Asha in fright, Feyd’s expression unreadable. Your whole body shook with the concentrated effort not to launch yourself at them. “I never want to see either of you for as long as I live.”

Feyd’s mouth worked. “Fine.”

He spun on his heel and disappeared. Asha lingered momentarily, seemingly searching for something to say, but ultimately ended up trailing after the na-Baron with her head low. Now that you were alone, you flung yourself into your quarters and started pushing furniture in front of the door.

You wanted to be alone. And you never wanted to see another Harkonnen again.

That had been, what — three days ago? Four? You had stopped keeping track. After barricading the doors, you had alternated between wailing your sorrows and destroying everything you hadn’t pushed in front of the door. Then, from that night and into the next two days, you had curled into a corner of the room and slipped in and out of consciousness, getting up only to relieve yourself.

It was the third day, then, that Feyd began knocking. At least, that’s what it started as.

Soon he was pounding on the door, throwing his body against it, screaming and cursing and crying out your name. He roared, “You can’t stay in there forever!”

Each strike of his fists on the wood reverberated through you like a physical blow. Not once did you respond to him, much to his ire, demanding that you let him know you’re still alive.

Were you?

You weren’t sure. And even if you were, you had nothing to say to him.

Your sadness was a living, breathing thing, its arms reaching around your middle in an embrace that slowly squeezed the air from your lungs. You could feel it compressing your bones, your blood, pressing down on you with merciless force. Everything melted together in a devastating act.

And then, in fragments of time when you could wade through your crushing grief, grim realization would settle in.

The last time you had seen Jessica, you not only insulted her status but dismissed her from your presence. She’d tried to reconcile, through your father, of course, but you had denied her even that. Would you have felt as justified in your decision if you knew she would be dead soon?

Your heart panged at the thought of Leto, too — how you had so cowardly ran from him to avoid his disapproval of you. And now…now you would never see them again. Never hug your mother or feel the brush of your father’s beard on your cheek, inhale their familiar scents.

You were alone. Completely alone.

And worst of all? It was the fault of the people you had just decided worthy enough to trust.

This delivered a hit to you almost more crippling than the deaths of your family: the death of the new family you thought you found. Asha. Feyd. Their faces circled through your mind. You did your best to shove them away but sometimes you thought you saw them in the corner of your eye, heard Asha’s musical laugh or caught the fluid, graceful movements of Feyd’s stride.

And each time you turned in a flurry of hope that they were there. Because, despite their betrayal, you wanted them there to comfort you.

The fifth day passed. Your images of them increased, to the point that you staged arguments with them and raged and sobbed and came undone. You vaguely realized that the food you kept refusing was affecting you, the poison your body now depended on taking its toll without daily reinforcement. Your days became delusions and fake conversations. You were weak, mentally and physically, unable to move. Some of the nausea and fever returned from the first few days after dosing, too, rendering you powerless.

Your mind played tricks on you. A memory of Caladan superimposed on top of Feyd’s mouth, his body on yours, Gurney and your parents and the sea and the snail and your own bloodstained hands. The Feyd your subconscious conjured found you like that — crumpled and spent and sodden with tears — after you imagined he broke into your quarters.

Unlike the other images, however, this time he scooped you into his arms and carried you to the bed where he laid you down on the bedclothes and plied you with something bitter-tasting that drifted you off to sleep.

A bright light washes over you, and you slowly open your eyes. The first thing you notice is a warmth inside you that previously had been missing. Then, that you’re lying in the bed and the room has been cleaned and, for the most part, rearranged.

You jolt up. There’s a cuff around your left wrist, keeping you bound to the bed. It rattles as you yank on it, urgency seizing you.

“It’s just a cautionary measure, na-Baroness.”

A woman glides into view. By the crown of dark haired braided back from her forehead, you know she’s not Harkonnen. The woman stops at the end of the bed and smiles reassuringly.

“Who are you?” You croak.

“My name is Doctor Wyn. I am a physician that’s been called in to aid your recovery.”

You consider this. “Feyd-Rautha called you.” She nods at this, and in response you recline back against the pillows. “I don’t want to see him.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Wyn says. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I suppose.”

“Your body was suffering from the lack of nourishments and, without your dosage of poison, severely unable to regulate itself. Did you suffer any…delusions? It’s mostly commonly associated with poison withdrawal. I want to clarify what you remember of the last few days.

You hesitate but eventually recount your memories, including seeing Asha and Feyd. “The last thing I remember is a vision of…him.”

Wyn hums. “I suspect that was real, na-Baroness. He’s the one who managed to get to you. And in good time, too, you were close to death.”

“He…found me?”

“Yes, na-Baroness.”

You think back to your fragmented memory of the event, of Feyd’s pale, concerned face hovering over you as he tucked you into his body.

That had been real?

“Did he put you up to this?” You ask.

“No, he did not,” Wyn answers with a hint of amusement, “but he has been waiting anxiously for you to awake. Do you mind if I inform him? I will only be gone for a moment.”

You nod your assent. The thought of Feyd makes your stomach twist uneasily.

When she leaves, you turn your gaze up to the ceiling. The last few days float over you, the news of your family’s deaths. The numbness is now replaced with something you can’t quite name — not sadness or grief. It’s almost peaceful, except for a flicker of anger.

Wyn returns. You’ve moved yourself fully upright and flattened down your hair. The surprise is evident on her face. You tell her, “Let him in.”

“na-Baroness, are you sure?”

“Yes. Do it now.”

Wyn nods again before leaving. This time, the sound of approaching footsteps is only too familiar. Feyd freezes when he sees you. An indecipherable expression crosses his face before disappearing behind his usual indifference.

You take him in greedily — the contours of his face, his broad shoulders, plush lips. All of this pales in comparison, though, to the scar that starts at his right brow and slices across his nose to the opposite cheek.

Feyd examines you. “You look like shit.”

“I could say the same to you.” You want to know what caused the scar, but you don’t want him to know that you care. “Why did you save me?”

“It would be terribly inconvenient for me if you died.”

“Are you sure it’s not because I’m the only thing linking you to Arrakis?”

Feyd’s gaze hardens. “Explain.”

“Arrakis,” you repeat like it’s obvious, “isn’t that why all of this is happening? I’m the last of the Atreides line and as my husband you stand to inherit the planet.” And the spice trade.

“Admittedly, I’ve given thought to it,” Feyd says with a tired sigh, “as did my uncle, who I suspect orchestrated this entire tragedy.”

“Don’t separate yourself from him,” you hiss.

“Did you not hear me?” Feyd rounds the bed to your side. “The Baron has been acting of his own accord, scheming behind our backs, wife, with my idiot brother. And while we should’ve been retaliating, you’ve been…here.”

“Here, what? Mourning my family?”

“Do you not wish to avenge them?”

Your tongue rolls in your cheek. “I do.”

It’s true — his words fan the anger in you into a burning inferno. You do want to avenge them. You want the Baron to pay for what he’s done.

Feyd sits down on the edge of the bed, his weight dipping the mattress. His hand twitches as if to grab yours but ultimately thinks better of it.

“We can’t do it if you do not trust me and believe me complacent,” he says. “Tell me what I must do to prove it to you.”

You don’t reply. Instead, you stare at him, achingly beautiful, this man whose darkness calls out to yours. You can tell that he is earnest about this. His suggestion is a summation of your relationship thus far, you push him and he pushes back harder. Only, this time, you would push last.

“You hurt me,” you murmur, “and now I want you to feel the same.”

“How?” Feyd asks. Did you imagine his eyes flick down to your mouth?

“Give me your dagger.”

His movements are slow, deliberate. Not once does he tear his gaze from yours as he unsheathes the dagger at his hip. Feyd presses the handle of it into your palm. It’s heavy, a weight you’re not certain you can even wield in your current condition. You wrap your fingers around its leather grip.

And Feyd never even flinches as you plunge the dagger into him.

Part Eleven

Taglist:

@moonsoulk @heartarianagran @torchbearerkyle @unicoreads @taleah @mamawiggers1980 @jovialeggsbailiffsoul @harkonnin @avidreader73 @unicorntrooper @beebeechaos @kamcrazy123 @wo-ming-bai @kpopnstarwars @m-indkiller @dacreshoney @stopeatread @the-na-baroness @therealslimshady-1

[lvrcpid]

love / paranoia.

tonowari watched what was unraveling in front of him. scared you were going to do something drastic, he quickly put a hand on your shoulder as you followed behind neteyam, your tight grip still attached to his braids, but was shocked when you harshly pushed him away.

you then threw down neteyam down onto the hard floor as he rubbed his head and yelled at you “what the hell is your problem (y/n)!” quickly getting up and rushing to you, shaking your shoulders, trying to snap you out of whatever little fit you were having.

“get the fuck off of me!” you shoved him away, he stumbled back and fell into lo’aks arms. the family was..shocked to say the least. you rarely talked but this is the first time they had ever heard you yell like that. you asked tonowari to take tuk out of the mauri for a few to go to the ocean, she had done nothing wrong. she didn’t deserve what they had coming. when he fulfilled your wishes, you turned back to your family and shut the entrance of the mauri.

“i’m the one who has a problem..? no..no.” you chuckled, shaking your head. “i’m not the one with the problem, it’s you egocentric imbeciles who have no compassion or thought for anyone but yourselves!” you began, your face turning a dark indigo as you began to get angrier with each word you spoke.

“when was the last time any of you had hugged me? when?!” you started back up “it was..” jake trailed off, he really couldn’t remember when was the last time he held his oldest child. “silence. dead silence. do you guys even remember when i completed my right of passage?! oh yeah you don’t cause you guys weren’t there! you were never there for me!” tears started to brim your eyes as you continued.

(everyone cheer for y/n cause this is gonna be a long one)

“for 16 long years i’ve been the black sheep. neteyams shadow, lo’aks big sibling, tuks babysitter! there’s nothing special about me! at not once have you tried to make me feel that way! it’s always them over me! i’m the oldest! i’m the one who’s supposed to be olo’ekytan/tsahìk in training! not neteyam/kiri!” you paced around the mauri, meeting your fathers now crying eyes.

“oh you want to cry?! you want to shed tears now that your shitty parenting is coming to light?! i haven’t referred to you as dad in years!! years! and you want to cry ?? i don’t even know who the hell you are anymore, you could be walking around and i wouldn’t even bat an eyelash in your direction.”

neteyam and lo’ak were now crying, seeing you spit venom at your father. “oh please don’t tell me you two are crying?! i spent my entire life covering for you idiots! and not one thank you! god neteyam it should’ve been you!! you should’ve been the one to die! not me!!” you pointed to your chest. neteyam gasped and looked at you. you took that bullet for him?

“i’m so embarrassed to even call myself a sully..sullys stick together? yeah right” you were now full on sobbing , running a hand through your hair and clapping “come on! give yourselves a around of fucking applause for the best family of the year! come on!” you laughed through tears and shook your head when your family stood there awkwardly crying.

“you guys are pathetic..i actually wish eywa didn’t give me another chance. i hate you guys. every single one of you..” you spoke through tears , looking each and every single family member in their eyes, making sure they felt the hatred in your eyes . “you all are dead to me..never-“ your voice cracked. “never speak to me again.” and with that you left. leaving the remaining sully family members in ruins.

a few minutes had passed and the family was still in their state of shock. neytiri then broke down onto her knees , begging eywa to wake her up from this nightmare. lo’ak just stormed out of the mauri, angry tears sliding down his face. kiri just quietly slipped over to your hammock and laid down, hugging the cover up you had made yourself, letting tears fall onto it. neteyam just moved to the corner of the mauri and just cried. no matter how much he tried , he just couldn’t get the tears to stop flowing.

when tuk came back from her excursion with tonowari she was shocked to see the crying faces of her family. when she asked where you were, the little girl was shocked at the answer, immediately bursting into tears with the family. jake was quick at neytiris side, hugging her tightly and crying himself, praying that you would return to them.

but it was too late.

meanwhile with you, you were an emotional wreck. the tears wouldn’t stop and the sobs wouldn’t stop erupting, no matter how hard you tried.

the olo’eyktan and his family tried everything to calm you down but they knew you had to get this cry out. they could tell you were holding this in for a while and it was a long time coming.

tonowari genuinely thought about banishing your family back to where they came from that night. when your sobs began to die down, tonowari was soft at your side , asking “‘tìyawn just say the word and they’re gone..” but you couldn’t do it. granted they put you through hell.

they were still your family.

after you had calmed down, hours later. it was already past eclipse, the stars in the sky twinkled against the ocean as you sat on the rock near the sea.

tonowari and ronal were hesitant about letting you go, arguing that you weren’t really in your right mind and needed to stay by their side for the night. you quickly shut them down and walked to the ocean, the cool sand cooling down your warm body.

you didn’t move as you felt a strange presence arrive next to you. “if mom and dad are trying to get me home tell them no-“ you turned to meet face to face with rotxo, a sad smile on his face.

you sighed as you ran a hand through your hair, looking back to the ocean. “sorry, i thought you were my brother” you apologized, your tone of voice changing from the bitter one you held before. “no need to apologize..ao’nung told me what happened today..im sorry (y/n)..i know it must be hard for you” he added. “yeah tell me about it” you stretched , cracking your neck in the process.

a few minutes went by before rotxo spoke up again “we’re having a music festival tomorrow..i would love if you joined us..” he smiled towards you, hoping to at least lighten your spirits a little. “eh i’ll pass” you said, not really in the mood for a loud party. “please (y/n)? come on i’ll promise it’ll be fun!” he asked with big puppy eyes. you rolled your eyes before nodding. “fine” you got up, leaving him at the rock alone “you’re coming to get me” you said before walking back into the family mauri.

the party came quicker than you would’ve liked it to. you groaned as you were dragged into the festival. the sounds of drums and war chants filled your ears as rotxo and tsireya began to dance, ao’nung not far behind.

you were weary to the festival at first, but you gradually got more comfortable with each song. you were having a blast! but of course thanks to the wonderful author sae, not all good things last forever.

you plopped down on the floor and watched your friends/siblings dance around with eachother. suddenly you were tapped on the shoulder by an unknown person.

“(y/n)..can we talk?”

previous || next

tags 🏷️: @23victoria @avtprint @bucky12345 @boilingpots @Marcswife21 @elegantkidfansoul @itsyogurl @stars4deku @stvpidscvpid @uniltsatirey @urdeadpoet @annamarieisbae @graysonmalik2550 @blueberryfailureclinic @jordan-network @newjeansbonnie @stickyfictioninwriting @fanboyluvr @zatarias-pandora @jjkclub @elvyshiarieko @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @adaiasafira @scarletrosesposts @spicycloudsalad @vane28282 @nuttyrebelflower @aemondmyl0ve @msbimb0 @neteyamforlife @gamorxa @sharni07 @thegooberboy @theesexystallion @nanaitesully @destinylb @fandom-garbage @dakotali @1ntefly @kiricomics @osumarusjade @rosemaryblossoms @malfoylaufeysonweasleybarnes

[applcrumbl]

I see the way you look at her.

Pairings: Peeta Mellark X Reader Warnings: Y/N uses she/her pronouns, talk of cheating, talk of murder and death.  Author’s Note: Y/N is kind of a dick in this but that’s so slay purr for her

Summary: Peeta returns to District 12 after the 74th Annual Hunger Games to a girlfriend who wants nothing to do with him. 

The air in District 12 was thick with tension as the Reaping day unfolded, casting a shadow over the usually quiet town. The nervous energy in the square was palpable, each child from from age 12 to 18 lined up as though they were being put to death by firing squad. In a strange way, they were. Dressed in their finest garments, the kind that they would be proud to have on television, yet praying that their names were never called.

Y/N’s name was in the bowl 20 times this year. 15 as tesserae, for the grain and oil her family so dearly needed to survive, and the rest for the age she’d turned earlier that year. There were boys with twice as many in the other bowl. Her neighbour, Gale, at 18 years old, had his name in 42.

Yet, with only 5 slips of paper, Peeta Mellark was called. His eyes bore into hers as tears threatened to fall. She watched him hug Effie Trinket, clad in her Capitol Extravagance. Katniss Everdeen, the girl she’d played with since youth, stood with him.

Truthfully, she’d moved on from the shock that her lover was going to die quite quickly. He certainly was more likeable than the rest of the tributes, But there was not enough money in the entirety of District 12 to provide the sponsorships he would need to stay alive. Peeta was strong in build, but would never be able to hurt someone, let alone to the point of murder.

She sat with a group of girls in the square, watching Caesar Flickerman on the large screen.

"Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember.” Peeta says, “But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping." 

Furrowed brow, she listened intently to his words. Who else would he be talking about, if not his own girlfriend? If not herself.

“She have another fellow?" asks Caesar.

“I don’t know, but a lot of boys like her," says Peeta.

Alice Walker, one of the girls who sat with Y/N, turns to look. “Thought you an’ him were going steady?”

“We are.” She replies—confusion as to why he was talking about her as though she were someone else.

She turns back to face the screen. Eyes trained on Peeta, looking the same as ever - only cleaner and in nicer clothes. He still wore the silver ring she’d bargained for at the market. His 15th birthday gift - She had put her name in the reaping another time to afford it.

“So, here’s what you do. You win, you go home. She can’t turn you down then, eh?"

“I don’t think it’s going to work out. Winning...won’t help in my case," says Peeta.

“Why ever not?" says Caesar, mystified.

"Because...because...she came here with me.”

From the moment of Peeta’s admission, she secretly hoped that he’d die in the games. As much as she wanted him to come back alive so that she could kill him herself, she also wanted nothing more than to see him suffer.

Everything she’d done for him. Everything she’d been put through for him. All for him to be in love with Katniss Everdeen. She stopped watching the games after that.

That didn’t mean she didn’t hear all about District 12’s star-crossed lovers and how they won the Hunger Games by means of their love. She stayed far away from the train station, and its once-dull platform, now adorned with makeshift decorations crafted from whatever materials the citizens could salvage. She stayed far away from his family’s bakery, and his shiny new home in Victor’s Village. She stayed far away from any place where the boy could find her. But, that did not mean that he did not try.

Katniss once spoke to her in the woods, explaining that it was all a rouse for the Capitol. Y/N only believed it because Gale had told her the same thing before. Katniss pleaded with her to speak to Peeta and allow him to explain. If not for her own sake, then for his. “I can’t even look at him Y/N. But he shouldn’t be alone right now”

She wondered how a victor of The Hunger Games could be so desperate for company. 

It took a lot of her pride to walk to Victor’s Village that night. The air was crisp, and the stars overhead seemed to bear witness to the storm of emotions raging within her. Unable to quell the turmoil in her heart, she found herself standing outside Peeta’s home.

It was the first time that she’d seen him. A glimpse through the front window into the warmly lit kitchen. He was baking again, decorating a cake, much like he would have been before the games. Except now, he was thinner, his eyes more sunken, hands shaking as they pressed fruit into icing. 

Taking a deep breath, she approached the door. Knocking gently, the sound echoed through the quiet night.

"Y/N," Peeta said, his voice soft with a hint of regret. "I didn't expect you."

She met his gaze, searching for answers. "We should talk."

He nodded, stepping aside to let her in. The air inside was thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, a familiar comfort that felt oddly out of place given the current circumstances.

They settled in the living room. The fire roared, illuminating the large room in an orange glow. The walls of the ground floor were taller than the height of her entire house. And one of the multiple sofa suites was bigger than the bed her brother slept on. There was more luxury in a singular room than in any 5 buildings in the seam. 

She sat, conscious of the room she was taking up. It felt like she would be whipped for even being near. Peeta sat more comfortably, the silence stretching between them like a fragile thread. The girl took a deep breath, ”How are you?”

“Where have you been?” Peeta interrupts, “I’ve been looking for you since I returned.”

“Can you blame me?”

Peeta hesitates a moment. “No.” He admits, hands wringing together, “It was for show, Y/N. For the cameras and the Capitol.”

A curt nod. Her expression remained stoic as she processed Peeta's words. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, the crackling fire doing little to dispel the cold atmosphere that had settled between them.

"For show," she repeated, her voice flat. "So, all of it—the love, the sacrifice, the pain—it was all just a performance?"

Peeta looked pained, his eyes desperately searching for understanding in hers. "Yes, entirely. Katniss and I, we played along to survive. It was the only way."

“It was not the only way.”

“I never wanted it to be like this.”

“You could’ve fought. You could have-”

“I couldn’t kill her. And I couldn’t watch her die.” Peeta interrupts.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “But you could lead the careers right to her.” She deadpans, “And you did do that, by the way”

His shoulders slumped, guilt written across his face. "I never wanted it to be like this. I wanted us both to make it out alive. But they wanted a love story, and we had to give it to them."

“You don't get it, Peeta. You don't get what it's like to watch the person you love be in love with someone else, pretend or not.” Y/N shook her head, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "It was so embarrassing to hear about your 'epic love story' broadcast to the entire nation. Have people question me every single day about what happened between us.”

Peeta scoffs, standing up from his seat and pacing to the far corner of the living room. His hand rubbing his face, he forces out a laugh at her words.

“You had some uncomfortable questions forced your way, Y/N” He starts, “I was reaped for The Hunger Games. They are not the same.”

The room falls silent, save for the roar of the fire and the gentle hum of the lights.

“I did what I did, not to stay alive.”Peeta admits, “I couldn’t care less if I died in there, My family wouldn’t either-”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. But that’s not my point.” He breathes, “I needed to stay alive so that I could come back to you.”

Y/N remained seated, her eyes fixed on Peeta as he spoke. He turned to face her, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I needed to survive, not for the Capitol, not for the cameras, but for us. I wanted to come back to District 12, to you.”

She couldn't deny the sincerity in his voice, but the wounds ran deep. Having spent the latter half of the last 5 months hating his guts, she couldn’t forgive him easily. Hearing that he’d done it for her only made her feelings more scrambled.

 "Love is more than a performance, Peeta. It's more than a show for the Capitol.”

He took a step closer, his expression filled with regret. "I thought we had a better chance of making it out together than I ever would have alone.”

“But now you’re in it for life. After your victory tour, do you seriously just expect that you’ll be able to just ‘break up’? People who have suffered together like the pair of you have, don’t just call it quits.”

“We’ll figure it out, I just need time.”

Y/N leans back in her chair, eyes still trained on the broken boy before her. She tears them away to try and stop the tears that threaten to fall. “I saw the way you looked at her.” She admits. “I understand that you went through a lot together, but- But, you never looked at me like that.”

Peeta's eyes, full of remorse, met hers. He reached out, as if to touch her hand, but hesitated, fingers hovering in the air.

"I never meant to hurt you," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "But in that arena, survival seemed like the only option. It was never about choosing her over you."

He lowered his hand. "I know I messed up. I can't change the past, but I want to make things right, Y/N. I want a chance to prove that I can be the person you need."

She shook her head, a mixture of frustration and sadness in her eyes. “I think you need time to figure it out by yourself, Peeta”

"Give me time," he pleaded. "But give me time to figure it out with you.”

The room hung heavy with silence, the fire that danced in the hearth was slowly dying. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, as Y/N distanced herself from him, each footstep on the plush carpet seemed to amplify the quiet. 

“I should go,” she says.

“Please don’t.” He begs. 

Y/N hesitated, her hand resting on the doorknob. She wanted to turn around, to look into Peeta's eyes and find a glimmer of the person she had once loved. Yet, the fear of more disappointment held her back.

"I need time, Peeta," she finally replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, “We both need time. Alone.”

Peeta remained silent, watching her silhouette against the doorway, his expression a portrait of heartache. He wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap, but he didn’t.

“If you love someone, let them go.” He whispers, allowing her to open the door and walk down the snow-covered stairs. The hinges closed with a soft thud, and Peeta was left alone.

[whumpsoda]

Coming Back to Bite You Part 1 - Swept Up

Masterlist

Finally putting this out there, hopefully I continue it :) updates will probably be pretty slow and gradual!

cw: vampire whumper, kidnapping, hypnosis, alcohol use, mention of death

———————————————————————

He was going to throw up. 

Marshall gripped the can of beer in one calloused hand, taking an aggressive swig of the beverage, still cold droplets of liquid dribbling over his fingers. His throat bobbed with each continuing gulp, and his stomach churned in a boil of acidic bile. The bitter taste of alcohol coated his mouth, swishing off his tongue and dancing down his throat, until he realized he was going to choke. Marshall’s moist lips released the can with a weak gasp. 

He lazily dropped it to the concrete with a clang, the last sip of liquid slipping And seeping into the cracks of the concrete. With a groan he dug his trembling hands into the skin of his flushed face, bits of dried and cracked blood still crammed in rings underneath his crooked nails.

The sour smell of gore still tainted his runny nostrils, infecting the scent of his several tossed away and half finished drinks. Begrudged tears pricked at his eyes, leaving his vision glassy and wet as he desperately tried to wipe them gone.

He should’ve be used to it. Five plus years of vampire hunting experience should’ve prepared him, but it didn’t. It never did.

Marshall choked back a soft sob, brushing at his face roughly in an attempt to rid the tears stained with embarrassment. He didn’t know why he did it. Why he had for five years, and why he continued to. Why he still didn’t quit after seeing yet another young newbie die a gruesome death at the hand of a monstrous creature, with nothing to do to stop it.

How pathetic.

“Something wrong?”

His limbs froze rigid, the sharp, close words cutting through the nightly silence. He shifted, gaze meeting with that of a small woman seated neatly beside him. 

Her face was shadowed by the light shining upon her back, but he could still clearly see her soft grin and glittering eyes. 

“Um,” he sputtered, gears turning to catch his mind up with his mouth. “Leave, leave me alone.”

She grinned, eerily soft and sweet, tilting her head a smidge. The essence of a mother speaking to her child. “I’d love to help.”

Help? Puzzled anger bubbled bigger in his belly, only strengthened by her audaciousness. “I said,” he snarled, face twisting and seething, his crooked teeth bared in likeness to that of the creatures he was trained to kill. “Leave me alone.”

“Driving home?” 

Marshall groaned, sickly, taking a peek at his tattered old truck sitting in the empty lot. His vision shifted, rolling down to the can he’d placed beside his foot, previously filled with alcohol.

He gritted his teeth, grabbing the can once again and lifting it to his lips as the stranger watched. “Yeah? So what?” He spat, taking a petty sip. 

The woman sighed, her smug grin never so much as faltering. “Just thought I’d remind you.” She huffed, holding back a chuckle.

“Why don’t you just mind your own business?” Marshall grumbled, glaring sharply at the stranger. She simply giggled, dripping with condescension, waving him off. Was it so hard to get five minutes to himself?

“Oh, you are very funny, dear. A bit temperamental as well, I see.” She chuckled again.

What was her problem?

That was it. It was not the time. The stranger obviously didn’t have anything better to do than irritate someone crying in the middle of nowhere covered in grime and vampire blood, and seemed to be having a good time with it. Marshall, on the other hand, was no short of seething.

He pushed himself to his feet, wiping his cheeks of sweat and tears and adjusting his coat. Without another word he stepped to leave.

To his surprise, shocking strength wrapped around his wrist, holding him back and leaving him unable to walk off.

“Oh, please don’t go. I didn’t mean to upset you. Sit back down with me, won’t you?”

Marshall stared back in bewilderment at the woman firmly clutching his wrist. What? Confusion was boggling him, poking at his brain. Was she crazy? Who was she to think he would follow her request? After she’d been practically taunting him when he was obviously distressed?

Though-

He paused. He had meant to snap another insolent response, but nothing came out. Why did he-

His vision swiftly glazed over blurry, fogging up his eyes as they turned glassy and unfocused. Marshall wobbled in his spot, legs buckling and shivering with weakness. The ground spun under him, dizzying his head and coating his mind with wretched nausea. His fingers reached out for something to grab, something to stabilize him.

He needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit, he needed to sit-

He lazily stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet, plopping right back into his seat. This time, he was a smidge closer to the woman. Marshall’s head lolled into his hand, catching himself from such dizzying disorientation.

Why was he… back on the bench? Was he not just about to leave? Was she touching him?

Lightly she rubbed in circles over his back, a motion he almost took no notice of. “Sorry about that, dear. It’s alright now.”

“I… what…?” Marshall slurred, his mind still a thick sludge that desperately gripped the walls of his, hopeful not to slip further into befuddlement.

He… he’d felt similar. Before. Marshall knew the sensation well, the sensation of his brain slipping through his fingers like water, liquified and stolen right out from his own control. Stomped to mush.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no-

“Very pretty rings you have. Mind if I take a look?” She held his hand between both of her gloved ones, fingers trailing over silver that glimmered in the light.

“Um…”

Not waiting for an answer, the stranger swiftly slipped each ring off each finger, holding them oh so carefully. “Very nice. Very.” She inspected them for a moment, right before turning and tossing them in a garbage bin behind her.

With widened eyes he sputtered, lazily trying to claw for them a second too late. She swept right back into his personal space, forcing him to retreat back with distraction. “Hm. And what might that be?”

She pointed to his pocket.

To his wooden stake, a necessity for vampire hunters.

It couldn’t be-

“I- you, that’s-”

Before he could so much as react, she slipped it right from him with her impossibly quick and nimble hands. “A wooden stake? Silly, silly.” She tisked, ignoring his growing concern and tossing it to the floor. It rolled a few feet away, and with drowsy, draped eyes Marshall watched it crawl out of reach. “You won’t be needing that.”

Please, no-

“You! You- you’re-!” Voice rising with muddled heat, his brain’s realization was catching up with his mouth.

Oh, God-

“Relax. I’m just here to help you. Calm down, dear.”

“N-no… you’re-! Get off me!” He swiped at her outstretched hand, feebly slapping it away.

How could he have been so foolish? How could he have let a vampire so close? How? He’d been so distressed and out of it from that nights job he hadn’t even noticed. What a fool, what a fool, what a fool.

He recoiled, jumping right off the bench and running. With his brain already such a mangled mess he nearly fell over, only catching himself with one hand and pushing himself back up.

His steps were slow and drowsy, swaying arduously and dramatically on his weighted feet. Nonchalantly the stranger stood behind him, taking her sweet time to catch up.

“Go-! Go away! Go away!” he hollered, stumbling around in a growing daze toward his truck, slipping over nothing several times. Her follow persisted. “Go away!”

Her vampiric aura strengthened by the second, taking hold of his susceptible mind and pushing him back into a distant, fuzzy haze. His words were tumbling and quieting, his movements gradually decreasing.

“N- no… no… leave…! Go…”

Soon enough subtle fingers trailed swiftly down his spine, stopping him in place. “Shhh, shhh… relax, dear. Just allow your limbs to go all numb and sleepy.”

His shoulders buckled, jaw falling slack under the immense weight of hypnotic force. Even still, infected by disgusting pleasure, his stomach tensed with sour acid. “Nooo…”

She walked around him, meeting his gaze with sweet, mind melting eyes. “I know you must be scared, little one. My apologies for messing with you, I just couldn’t help it. I’ll be nice now, okay? So be a good boy and just sleep.”

Easy. She’d overpowered him, so easily. Five years of practice and he’d lost just like that. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic. How could he not hate himself? How could he not detest the world for such a fate he never deserved? Five years of service and he was going to lose his life at the hands of a vampire?

He’d been so careful.

“Just calm, oh so calm. Your mind settles, all sleepy and exhausted. Just let go for now. I won’t hurt you.” She soothed, cupping his face in her palms.

“Nuh… no… go…”

He didn’t want to let go. He had to escape. He wanted to escape. He wanted…

He wanted…

“Let… go…”

She smiled, warmth spreading through his belly, a blissful, distracting sensation that scattered any coherent thoughts clawing to the edges of his mind. “Good, good. Let go, dear. Just for a bit. You’ll have a very nice nap, okay? It’s all dark out here, which means you must be very tired. And nighttime means you sleep, doesn’t it?”

Marshall yawned, head lolling and body melting. He’d like a nap. He’d been working so dreadfully hard, he deserved one, did he not? A nap would be just wonderful.

“Aw, how cute. You’re so drowsy. Just falling asleep right in my arms, huh? Lovely. An easy catch, weren’t you?” He hummed in agreement, her words flowing through one ear and out the other. He was swiftly floating into unconsciousness, head gradually falling forward into his chest. “Shh… so very relaxed, sleep just holding your putty like mind in it’s hands. Just let go to the call of sleep and exhaustion. I know you want to, dear.”

It was strange, how delightful it felt. He’d been enthralled before, but never so deeply and thoroughly. His brain never so overridden. Why had he ever fought it? Why had he ever rejected such heaven? Marshall couldn’t so much as think of an answer.

Or, think at all, really.

Placing the kind pressure of her hand on the back of his neck, she easily guided the exhausted Marshall’s slick with sweat forehead into the nape of her neck.

“Good boy, good boy. Just let all your worries go. I tried so hard to make this easy on you, I know how easily fussy you humans can get. But everything is fine and calm. Calm and sleepy. Sleepy and relaxed. The darkness of the night makes you oh so exhausted and ready for bed.”

He shivered from the sound of praise, as well as the vampire stroking down his arms and stirring more pleasant feel as he drifted, brain coming to a stop. It felt better than it ever had to fall asleep. He smiled, and so did she. Even in the middle of winter, he’d never felt so pleasantly warm.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head.” She whispered sweetly, rocking him gently like a small child into an entranced sleep. “I’ll take great care of you, dear.”

———————————————————————

Next

Taglist- @softvampirewhump

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[fancyfeathers]

The Hydro Knight

(Yandere Childe) (Normalized Yandere AU)

What happens when Childe’s darling goes to the darling of Signora to learn how to defend herself and fight…

going from this post and the credit to the names goes to @busy-dadzawa-fish who I asked if I could use the names they came up with here as placeholder names for the other darlings when writing from different perspectives

You sat on your sleeping bag, your head facing up at the stars above you. You couldn’t sleep, not tonight, so while everyone slept you sat awake. The days merged together now, every day the same, just trying to survive. You think your birthday was coming up soon but Archons you can’t remember when. Ajax- no, Childe probably remembered, after all he remembered you even after he left for the Fatui. He came back only to ask your parents for your hand, no letters, no word from him, not even from his family, nothing. He was obsessed with the idea of you, the ide of how you were when you were young together.

So that leads you to where you are now, on the run with a few others, a knight and ballerina from Mondstadt, a librarian from Fontaine, a medic from Sumeru, and from your home land of Snezhnaya, a hunter, and who you knew the longest a shopkeeper named Keina. Honestly you felt the most pity for her, she had worked hard for her whole life, building up everything to own a small business that was absolutely torn down by the ninth of the Fatui Harbingers, Pantalone, all because she rejected her proposal. She had worked for everything only to be crushed under his heel. You felt so similarly to her, you were planning on running your family’s business one day, not being a harbinger’s housewife.

You decided to stop trying to sleep so you stood yourself up, walking off to find another clearing in the woods as to not wake the others up. When you first left Snezhnaya and made your first stop on in Mondstadt you had found an old sword that you had fixed up for you. You didn’t really how how to use the sword but you figured that having a weapon was better than not having one at all, plus with you having a vision it would be smart to at least have a weapon to use with it.

“You’re going to hurt yourself swinging your sword like that.” A voice caught you completely off guard and you almost screams, but you were able to whip your head around and you only saw the familiar face of one of your travel partners, Clarus a former Knight of Favonius until he left Mondstadt to accompany you all. He was just wearing his travel clothes and jacket, no armor or anything else, he must have just woken up. You watched as he walked over to you, and nudged your legs to stand farther apart with one of his boots. His hands took you by the arm and guided you on how to stand. “You want to win a fight, you need to know how to stand. If your feet are to close together any Fatui agent could easily kick your legs in and get you to fall to the ground.”

“T-Thanks…”

“Don’t mention it, besides I’d rather not see you die in a fight.”

He helped you train that night and other nights following, unsurprisingly he could not sleep either. Clarus was a surprisingly good teacher, with his formal demeanor you would have expected him to be cold and stern, but he was kind just quiet. You learned that he helped train and teach the younger knights. You never asked about his days with Signora, you figured it would bring back bad memories for him even if he said that you could.

Then the news of the death of Signora came to you all. When your heard the news all of you turned to face the knight, reading him for a reaction but he cried. When you asked him why he cried he smiled and said. “I weep for joy, I am finally free.”

If only it stayed like that…

After the news your lessons stopped as Clarus returned to the Knights of Favonius, back to his position as an instructor. Then not even a week later you received news on how he was attacked on the way back to his some in Springvale. He was missing…

Meanwhile at the Zapolyarny Palace the hydro knight was forced down on his knees by Fatui agents in front of the Harbingers and the Tsaritsa herself. His lip was bleeding and he wore more than a few bruises. The Tsaritsa smiled down at the beat up knight, the letter he was going to send to you in hand.

“Ajax, come here.”

At the goddess’ words the red headed harbinger walked over to the Tsaritsa‘s side and she handed him the letter, letting him read it.

“It seems like this knight has taken your fiancé as his newest student…”

[winter-soldier-101]

Why me! 2

Word count: 1317

AemondxReader

Aemond has been watching you from afar since the day he told you he would kill you and your babe so you’ve stayed away from him since then.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Rhaenyra asks you.

“How can I talk to him when he told me he would kill me and our babe if the babe didn’t look like him all because he thinks your son Jacerys is the father so you tell me how could I ever look at him the same.” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra.

“(Y/N) I know what he said to you but he does love you” Rhaenyra tells you.

“He told me that I let your bastard son touch me and of my babe looks like your bastard son he will kill us both that’s truly what he said to me so don’t fucking tell me that he loves me because he doesn’t love or care about me anymore” (Y/N) tells Rhaenyra and walks away from her and everyone else.

“(Y/N)” A voice calls out the voice of the one man she truly trusts.

“Elmo, is that really you?” (Y/N) asks as she holds him tight in a hug.

“How I’ve missed you so I miss seeing you run around Riverrun with Kermit” Elmo tells you as he lets you go.

Elmo Tully is like a second father to (Y/N) when her father died fighting in the StepStones with Prince Daemon, (Y/N) was thankful to Prince Daemon he had brought her fathers body back and paid mother some coin to help with everything.

“I want to go home Elmo” (Y/N) whispers out as she cries in his arms.

“I wish I could take you back home (Y/N) but I don’t want your mother and brothers to be in any danger” Elmo tells you.

“I do not want my child to know his or her father hates them so please if I die on my birthing bed take my child and never let Aemond near him or her” (Y/N) tells Elmo.

“I will do everything I can for you and your baby (Y/N)” Elmo tells you.

Aemond stood behind the wall of the secret passageway as he listened to your conversation.

“When Aemond told me he would kill me and the babe I thought about jumping from Maegor’s tower so we wouldn’t feel unwanted and unloved.” (Y/N) says as tears fall down her face.

Aemond listens to your cries and feels his heart break as you say you wanted to end your life because of what he said.

“(Y/N) it’s okay you can write to me and your mother any time and if you need me I will come.” Elmo tells you.

“I just want to tell the King that Jacerys is the father of my baby and let me and Aemond go away from each other.” (Y/N) tells Elmo.

“(Y/N) no you can not do that the King will punish you if he feels like you abandoned your vowels to Aemond” Elmo tells you.

“I know I just don’t know what to do.” (Y/N) tells him.

Three days later

“I have decided that my daughter and heir Rhaenyra Targaryen will be crowned Queen in a fortnight the ravens have been sent and all Lords and Lady’s shall be in attendance to celebrate their new Queen” Viserys announces to the masses and to his council members some shocked at the news.

“Your Grace, are you sure you don’t want to name your first son Aegon King?” Otto asks Viserys.

“Otto enough of this my daughter will be Queen and that’s final!” Viserys yells out making sure everyone understands.

5 months later

(Y/N) lay in her birthing bed as Maester Mellos tells the midwives to get some water and cloth as you begin to push.

“Princess get ready to push” Maester Mellos tells you as you let out a scream and push.

“One more push Princess” Maester Mellos tells you as you push one more time and stop when you hear a loud cry.

“A boy Princess” Mellos tells you as he shows you your son and gives him to the midwife to clean him up.

“Princess I need you to push one more time” Maester Mellos tells you as you push once again and hear another cry.

“Another boy Princess” Mellos tells you.

“Twins oh my Layla will you get Queen Rhaenyra.” (Y/N) asks her handmaiden.

“Twin boys Aemond” Alicent tells Aemond.

“Yes mother I’ve heard I’ll visit when I’m done training” Aemond tells Alicent as he leaves her alone standing there.

“Should I call you Queen Rhaenyra now” (Y/N) asks Rhaenyra.

“No you don’t have to call me Queen Rhaenyra (Y/N) your my good sister and oh your boys are beautiful (Y/N)” Rhaenyra tells you.

(Y/N) looks at her sons and sees both have white hair and not a single brown hair in sight (Y/N) lets out a little laugh.

“I don’t want him anywhere near my sons” (Y/N) tells everyone in the room as Alicent walks in.

“My dear girl, how are you feeling?” Alicent asks you.

“I’m fine Alicent where is my husband at?” (Y/N) asks Alicent.

“He went to the training yard for a-“ Alicent starts to tell you.

“Yes of course he did let him know he is not allowed in my room and he will not be allowed to see my sons” (Y/N) tells Alicent.

Three days later

(Y/N) holds little Aragon as Aeneys lays still in his bed but a soft knock wakes him (Y/N) puts Aragon down and picks up Aeneys and opens to see Aemond along with Jacerys.

“What are you doing here Aemond?” (Y/N) asks him angrily as Layla waits for you outside.

“Layla come in and take the boys please?” (Y/N) asks Layla.

“I’ve come here to apologize to you and Jacerys and see my sons.” Aemond tells you.

“No they are my sons not yours!” (Y/N) yells at Aemond and tries to close the door on him.

“(Y/N) stop I’m sorry I’m trying to make everything right and make it up to you.” Aemond tells you.

“No you don’t deserve to meet my sons” (Y/N) tells him.

“(Y/N) I’m going to see them so please move?” Aemond asks you.

“No, they are my sons, remember their bastards to you so leave me and my sons alone Aemond.” (Y/N) tells Aemond.

“(Y/N) let me see them now” Aemond says as he pushes the door open and makes way over to the boys.

“No stay away from my sons” (Y/N) says as she pushes Aemond away from the twins.

“(Y/N) enough!” Aemond yells as he pushes you to the floor.

“You will never put your hands on me again. If you do it will be the last time you have hands. Do you understand me?” (Y/N) tells Aemond as she gets up off the floor.

Aemond looks at you shocked as he holds his left cheek.

“You can see Aragon and Aeneys when I feel like you are ready to be their father” (Y/N) tells Aemond.

“You named them with me?” Aemond asks you.

“Yes I named my sons because their father wasn’t there for them when they were born” (Y/N) tells Aemond.

“(Y/N) I’m sorry that I hurt you and I’m sorry about what I said about you and the boys and Jacerys. I'm sorry for what I said about you and my wife and sons” Aemond says to you and Jacerys.

“I appreciate your apology, Aemond but I have not forgiven you yet.” (Y/N) says to Aemond.

“Thank you for apologizing uncle and I’m sorry about all the pain me and Lucerys caused you.” Jacerys apologizes to Aemond.

Taglist: @dc-marvel-girl96 @immyowndefender @izfrogzyy1 @lexi-anastasia-astra-luna @hc-geralt-23

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 38

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Ophelia Riorson)

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

Betrayal and anger is all I can feel from Violet as she takes in what’s just happened. Her eyes scan over us all as the Gryphon fliers leave. I can see how nervous she is as she takes us all in, her gaze hardening as it lands on Liam and I. Xaden and Garrick approach her as if she’s a startled animal, worried she could dart off if they make the slightest wrong move. So similar to who I’d approached Garrick last night.

”Were we ever really friends?” She whispers, turning to Liam and I. Her voice void of any emotion.

”We are friends, Violet, but I owe him everything.” Liam answers solemnly as he looks at her. “We all do. And once you give him a chance to explain-”

Another wave of anger barrels into me, causing me to stumble back into Bodhi who reaches out and steadies me. Bloody hell. She was angry.

”You watched me train with him!” She yells, shoving Liam’s chest, causing him to stumble back towards me which brings her attention back to me. “You both stood by and watched me fall for him! You told me I made the right choice!”

”Oh shit.” Bodhi whispers behind me.

”Violence, let me explain.” Xaden says as he steps towards her.

We all take a collective step back as power ripples through the air around Violet as she turns towards Xaden. “If you even think about touching me, I swear I’ll fucking kill you.” As if to cement her point lighting cracks across the sky.

”I think she means it.” Liam mutters as he stares up at the clouds.

”I know she does. Everybody, go back to the shore. Now.” Xaden commands, his focus fully on Violet.

We all hesitantly leave them. I know Xaden can handle himself, but Violet’s signet could be dangerous when she’s angry. Already proven by the lightning she’s managed to summon without even trying to.

And we do. I turn my back on my brother and Violet. And for the first time in my life, I’m actually scared to leave him alone with her as another lighting strike careens across the sky above me. Malek help us all.

”Well that went well.” Bodhi mutters sarcastically as we all make it back to the dragons.

”Well? You think that went well? She nearly fried us all.” Liam states as he looks at Bodhi as if he’s sprouted a second head.

”But she didn’t.” He states, just as another lighting strike happens. “Well not yet anyway.”

”She wont.” I tell them as I sit down against a boulder, leaning my head back against it as I shut my eyes. “She might be pissed, but she still loves him.”

”If it wasn’t for your damn signet I’d be questioning you a lot right now. She’s about ready to kill him.” Imogen states as she joins us.

Garrick chuckles, “So was Ophelia when she figured it out.”

”I was always curious, how did you find out about this? I knew Xaden planned to tell you, but he never said how you figured it out before he got a chance to.” Imogen asks, the gravel shifting next to me as she sits next to me.

I open my eyes and point over at Garrick. “This idiot over here got me one of my favourite foods that you can only get from Gryphon fliers.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation we’re in and what has just happened Imogen and Liam burst into laugher, Garrick glaring at the two of them as Bodhi stifles his laughter.

”And you’re meant to be the observant one.” Imogen jokes as she smirks at Garrick, causing him to glare at her more.

”Get ready to go. As soon as those two are done we’re leaving.” Garrick growls before walking off towards Chradh, leaving us all behind to fall into a fit of laughter.

Something is wrong. Something is very very wrong. This outpost is empty. Too empty for an active outpost.

”What the hell?” Garrick striding past us to observe the courtyard in the centre of the structure.

Our footsteps echo off the walls way more than they should. This outpost should have hundreds of infantry and riders stationed here. But as I reach out with my signet to feel for anyone else, I come up short. We’re the only ones here.

”Stop. There’s no one here. Divide and search.” Xaden commands us before turning to Violet and I. “You stay with Garrick, and you don’t leave my side. I don’t think this is a War Game.”

I nod and pivot on my heel to follow Garrick who waits in one of the archways with Imogen. Imogen leads the way as Garrick falls into step next to me, one hand grasped around a sword, the other ghosting my lower back. We search every room we come across. All of them abandoned and empty. Not a single thing left behind or out of place. This was planned and thought out. These people based here had time to pack up and leave. Finally we make it to the third floor where a lot of the leadership we’re based at outposts. Their offices lining the corridor. The three of us split up, knowing we need to hurry up. Just like the other rooms every thing is empty. Till the last one. Sitting on the desk in the centre of the room is an envelope. And envelope addressed to my brother.

War Games for Xaden Riorson, Wingleader of Fourth Wing.

I immediately recognise the hand writing. I’d seen it many times before while being under Melgren’s care. Colonel Aetos. That was his hand writing. Countless time’s I had been tasked with passing documents and letters between the pair. There was no denying that was his hand writing. I grasp the letter in my hand, rushing out the door and nearly crashing into Garrick who had clearly come to find me. He goes to ask me something, but as I hold the letter out to him he snaps his mouth shut. His eyes focusing on the letter in my hand. He takes it from me before grabbing my hand and leading me down the corridor to the stairs that will take us up to the tower.

”Imogen, we found something.” He calls out before rushing up the stairs.

I hear Imogen rushing to catch up to us as we bound up the stairs. I have to let go of Garrick’s hand due to him being able to skip multiple steps at a time due to this longer stride.

”I have something!” Garrick calls out, clearly being able to see Xaden from the tower.

As I make it to the top, I see Garrick vault over the edge to cross over to Xaden via the thick rampart connecting us to where the others are. Imogen and I quickly follow after him to join the others. I can already tell as we get closer Xaden has pieced together part of why we are here. The worry on his face is crystal clear as he looks down at Violet. Shit.

”It’s addressed to you.” Garrick says to Xaden as he hands him the envelope.

Violet glances at the letter, her eyes skimming the hand writing on the front. And I can tell she knows who it’s from as well. “That’s from Colonel Aetos.”

”What does it say?” Garrick asks, folding his arms over his chest as he waits for Xaden to tell him what it says. “What’s our assignment?”

”Guys, I see something just past the trading post,” Liam says to us as he looks over the village below us. “Oh shit.”

At the same time I feel the panic set in from both Liam and Xaden. I quickly rush over to Xaden and take the letter from him. My eyes quickly skimming over the contents. Oh shit. Instantly Garrick is at my side, my face clearly betraying my emotions as I stare up at Xaden in panic. We have been sent here to die.

”It says our mission is to survive if we can.” Xaden says glumly.

Garrick shakes his head at us, lacing his fingers behind his head. “That’s not….”

”Guys, this is bad.” Liam shouts as Imogen rushes to his side.

Xaden looks back at Violet who is very much blaming her self right now for what’s happening based off the guilt I can feel flowing off of her. “This isn’t your fault.” But I can tell she doesn’t believe his words as he turns to look at us all. His eyes settling on me. Our conversation from earlier becoming reality with the words that leave his mouth. “We’ve been sent here to die.”

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books @side-angel @wolfbc97 @just-an-ace-elf

[campbell-rose]

Helluva Rewrite: Millie

Okay, i dropped my phone in water and was so scared i'd ruined it, but thank the gods it was fine. Though it's fucked so i'm going to post all the IMP redesigns in short order before it dies and i lose them forever. Onto Millie!

I wanted Millie to read as a country girl. I remember being like ‘oh, that’s her voice?’ when I watched the first episode, because for some reason it just didn’t match her design for me. I considered giving her back the white splotch in her hair, but decided to change imps and give fem imps white horns. I’ve got two guesses for why it was removed: 1) she was originally trans and it was changed 2) the dimorphism of imps was thought of after the pilot. Either way, I like it. I suppose the explanation for this version since her horns are fem is she might have been born intersex?

I wanted her and Moxxie to contrast in their designs, as such she’s wearing less while he’s fully covered, she’s tall he’s short, etc... Now, as a Wrath imp, she has a darker skin tone and has spikes on her body.

Now, as a character, i'll build off of what the show has given us.

Supposedly Millie is secretly very insecure? From leaks she’s like willing to die because she thinks she’s holding Moxxie back and in Unhappy Campers she had that whole breakdown. Now, I think this actually could’ve been built up a bit.  

In the rewrite, Millie is the youngest of her five siblings and the second girl. Now, from the bat lets make her a bit of a drain on the family. They hadn’t planned for her birth, and it was another child her parents had to take care of with limited money. She picked up on this when she was little, realizing that her parents often cut corners and struggle, and she perceives this as her fault. This ties into how she mentions her family going to Loo Loo Land, except in this it was once and was specifically for her birthday. She knows her parents had saved up for months to afford the trip and feels innate guilt for it. Boom insecurity explained. 

Now, in this Millie meets Blitzo first. They bump into one another once Millie moves away from the Wrath Ring to Pride to try and alleviate her parents’ stress. During this time Millie has been working as an assassin for a couple months and ends up bumping into Blitzo who was hired by a different person to kill the same target. This would be during Blitzo’s attempt to start his business in hell killing demons. They fight for a bit, then realize ‘oh wait... let’s work together!’ so Millie was the first to join IMP. 

Millie trains endlessly. When she isn’t doing her job, she’s at the gym. She is constantly striving to be the best because her parents pitted her and her siblings against one another (unknowingly, with things like the harvest festival). As a person she is very observant and emotionally intelligent. She is very kind and loves conversation. She also is very tight with money, and very appreciative of any gifts she receives because she grew up with little. She treasures things genuinely and is just all around a very genuine girl. 

Now, other than fighting, she is fairly mediocre at anything else, due to the culture of Wrath mainly being kill or be killed and you have to be tough. One hobby and talent she does have and is working on is singing, something she shares with Moxxie and works as something they can do together. Millie loves to play guitar and sing and is constantly striving to improve. On the topic of Moxxie, Millie loves him deeply and wants only the best for him and some part of her feels like she isn’t enough. 

All around I want this Millie to come off as a very confident and genuine person, trying her best to push down the deep feeling within her that she is a drain on everyone around her. So when people start showing her with praise rather than screaming in agony she is enthralled. She loves the cheers of crowds, as it was often Sallie Mae getting cheered on during the Harvest Moon Festival while Millie was always second best. She wants that kind of adoration and acknowledgement. 

That’s it. Gotta work on finishing Blitzo and Moxxie rn

[tfp-enthusiast]

Perhaps another cons x teen femme bot 🙏 with any cons you’d like + shockwave!

Tho she isnt really innocent compared to your other post, she’s been affected by the war with struggles of isolating & depression etc. I imagine though the cons are tough they’d all feel something for her, she grew up in the war and didn’t get to experience the good they were able to :(

Con's X Teen!GN!Bot!Reader

[I'm happy that you liked it anon! I love the idea of the bots/cons having to care for a sparkling/teen and becoming attached]

[I may make an real series of this when I have my Inbox clear/mostly empty because I don't want to have yet another thing that I promise but don't work for months on *looks at the neutral bot AU*]

You where born in the middle of the war with only your carrier there for you. Considering the fact that you where probably the first generation born in the war you where treated entirely different that the ones before you.

You where trained to fight and defend yourself, your carrier was by your side every step you took, and while you where a very powerful young bot you still where just a child.

You already lost your Sire, it was only a matter of time until your carrier would die too, therefore was it the best decision, made by your carrier, to put you in a stasis pod and pray that you will wake up at a safe place and find a new family.

Soundwave

He learned of you because he sent Lazerbeak

He was a little surprised, not that anyone could see, when he saw such a young bot and impressed when he saw how you fought against the vehicons

You where still a little confused but used your size to your advantage but get caught by a group of vehicons at the end

When you first met him in person everyone was confused and a little creeped out because the both of you just stared at each other

Soundwave had to watch over you because you seemed more happy when no one talked with you

After some time and in private you would talk with him over the last cycles and sometimes about your 'childhood'

He thinks that it's a little sad that you only had war in your life until now and shows you pictures of cybertron before everything went down

Soundwave doesn't actually think that there is much wrong with you other than the fact that you seem to have some depressing thoughts when you think about your sire and carrier but Lazerbeak is your best emotional support ever

Shockwave

Meets you only because you get sent to his lab so Megatron can know what you could be useful for on the ship because you weren't trusted to leave the Nemesis at first

He grew relatively fond of you fast because you where very silent and only spoke when needed

He never even thought that there was anything wrong with you, sure you grew up in the war but that's how it works now, he only got a little curious after you spoke with him one day over your past

Over time you grew comfortable around Shockwave, and the other way too, and started to open up more

When you where helping him with inventions you where allowed to talk, unless he said something about it, and sometimes you would talk about what it was like when you where on cybertron

This led to him asking Soundwave for a special folder on your datapad of cybertron before the war which you where allowed to look at when you had free time or trouble slipping into recharge

While he is not the best at motivation he can be a good listener and thanks to his nature you know that when he says something he means it and for you that means a lot

Predaking

When you meet Predaking you have been on the Nemesis for a little while and where trusted not to run away so you where allowed to roam freely

While Megatron and the others where trying to find out what to do with a young bot like you you found yourself on the outside of the ship

You, like everyone else, saw a predacon for the first time in your life and even though you where a very mature bot for your age you still had some childish curiosity in you

So you approached him with caution and somehow you came there every cycle

When Predaking transformed for the first time you witnessed it and he could see your expression on your faceplates finally without having to guess what you feel

You just stood there like: O.O and tackled him with a hug

He was so proud of you for showing your emotions to him

He knows how you feel and helps you find out everything you can about cybertron before the war

There where many times where you, instead of Starscream, where with him and the both of you searched through the databanks to know more about cybertron

Often you both would fall into recharge while Predaking is curled around you, no matter if in root or beast form, and you would loosely hold an databank with pictures of cybertron while it still stood and was alright

Knockout

He learned about relatively early considering he somehow always knows the latest tea

You got sent into the medbay because of your little crash landing

First meeting was a little awkward, Knockout tried his best to get you to talk and is worried that you are just like Soundwave

When you are sent to him because it was needed to lear what you could be useful for, and they needed more medics, both of you internally dreaded the meeting

Over time you got used to each other and you actually had full conversations when you where alone

Knockout became some sort of therapy for you because he sees that you clearly got issues because of your past and the war you have almost every second cycle a 'therapy session' of sorts

Knockout loves to tell you about cybertron and even gets some videos about the different places across the planet

Breakdown

He was the first one to meet you actually because he was sent to investigate the crash and look for the bot that could be in it

Because you didn't know him and you learned to keep distance you kicked him into faceplate out of reflex

You met him soon after you get brought to the ship again and quietly said your sorry for what happened

Considering he's the most sympathetic bot on the ship you stay around him for the most part

That obviously doesn't go unnoticed and Megatron decides that you will just go wherever Breakdown goes

You both talk a lot once you get comfortable and Breakdown feels really bad for you and tries his best to give you what he had when he was still a young bot

This causes you to vent to him since he is the one bot you trust the most

When you can't recharge you often go into the medbay because Breakdown is almost always there and if not his habsuite is almost directly next to the medbay and you are always allowed to enter

On nights where you can't recharge and spend with Breakdown he often tells you about cybertron and his childhood memories

[and-justice-for-zoisite]

𝒞𝑜𝓈𝓂𝒾𝒸 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 (Fujin x Tsung! Reader)

Official Masterlist   -   Part 2

Summary: As the daughter of Shang Tsung, you have an expectation which was set to you since birth: to become the next champion in Mortal Kombat. Naturally, you were supposed to represent Outworld, however, when you come into contact with someone who saved you when you were a child, you realise your perception of good or bad is skewed, and he makes you reconsider your position entirely. 

Word Count: 8.4k words

This story was written with the song Cosmic Love By Florence and the Machine as the inspiration!

-

I hardly remember it happening. I was only but a small belle with a raging fire in her heart. I was so young. Adventurous.

Stupid.

I don't remember much of it. Of the accident.

Father said it looked like I fell in the river by the palace, during the harsh unforgiving winter, and would've surely perished had I not washed upon shore about twenty feet down the river.

But I don't think I could've washed up to the shallow bed of the river on my own. Someone was there. He saved me. He glowed in my blurred vision as I tried to blink the water out of my eyes and cough it out of my lungs. My body was cold, shivering, and my throat felt like it was freezing.

When I thought I was going to die there, father and his servants came to rescue me, one of them having seen me from a window and alerting everyone in close proximity that I had fallen into the river.

Father told me he'd never felt closer to death than that day. Losing me would've been the last of it, not after my mother passed. Ever since then, he's never taken me back to Earthrealm, my birthplace. I've resided in Outworld since age six, and never had any plans to go back.

Not until I met him.

-

"(Y/n)?"

…

"(Y/n)!"

…

sigh

"Where could that girl be?"

It wasn't unusual that Shang Tsung would find himself searching hopelessly for his dear and only daughter, within the walls off his grand palace that was due to serve as a venue for the upcoming Mortal Kombat he hosted every generation. Outworld had long claimed this right, and he was prepared for another victory. That would be ten consecutive victories, and he would finally be able to invade and claim Earthrealm with no consequences or backlash by the elder gods. He'd been waiting years for the event, and was eager to have his daughter participate as his champion.

Speaking of...

As the man came closer and closer to the east side of the palace, the sound of loud, familiar thumps became more audible as he walked further. He now knew where his daughter was.

With another sigh, he closed his eyes and abruptly teleported himself to his desired location - that was, just outside, by a scrub of trees, one of which his dear daughter was beating the ever living life out of.

"You know, if you keep neglecting to wear protective bandages, you'll damage your hands far beyond repair," Shang lectured her, noting the bloody state of her hands.

She stopped a moment to look at them, huffing and puffing as she pushed her sweat drenched hair out of her face.

"Damage is what makes me stronger, father," she huffed, wiping the blood on her top as she took fighting stance once again, "you want me prepared for kombat, don't you?" "Yes, of course," he smiled, watching as she continued to punch the tree, "but you don't need to focus primarily on your physical strength. You are a sorceress, after all." "But physically hitting something is what gives me satisfaction," she groaned, focused entirely on her training, "it's no fun if I do something as minimalistic as consuming my opponent's soul or setting a fiery serpent upon them." "But it is getting dark, my dear," Shang pointed out, "won't you come inside?" "I'll come inside when I'm done," she huffed between hits, "when it hurts." "Very well," Shang sighed as he turned to go inside, "just be careful."

She didn't say another word to him as he returned to his palace and she continued her make believe battle with this tree as though they'd been enemies for life.

(Y/n) couldn't feel the cold due to how much sweat she had produced from her, even though it was the dead middle of winter in that realm. She would only feel an occasional bite if she stopped momentarily for a breather, but would always continue non stop for longer periods of time.

She was never scared of the dark, not since she was small, nor was she scared of whatever may inhabit it.

But that night truly did make her forever cautious of it from that moment forward.

From behind the tree was a sudden burst of light, one that would've blinded her had the tree been a little more narrow. For the first time in a long time, she felt that pinch of fear in her chest as she stepped back with uncertainty in her eyes. That was when a man appeared from behind it, levitating and glowing. She could feel a cold breeze come off of him, and was at a complete loss of words as she watched him lower himself to the ground.

"Who..." (Y/n) began in a meek voice, mustering up the courage to put more power into it, "...who are you??" "I, (Y/n) Tsung, am Fujin," he introduced himself, "God of wind." "A god?" she asked, sceptically though his appearance did add up.

He nodded, gesturing a hand toward her.

"I have selected you as my champion," he disclosed, "to defend your birthplace of Earthrealm in mortal kombat." "Wait, wait...hold on," she said, flustered as she ran a hand through her hair, "my father has already selected me as his champion. And I may have been born in Earthrealm, but I represent Outworld." "Oh (Y/n)..." Fujin chuckled, approaching her further so he was within touching distance of her, "you've been my desired champion long before your father selected you."

His hands came to cup her face, and before she could protest, she felt his fingers on her temples and a vision suddenly overcame her. She went limp as she watched her memories. It was that day. The day she fell into the river. She could see it all happen from a neutral perspective. Her body sunk to the bottom of the river and she was caught on a log.

Then her perspective changed. She was herself once again, now at the bottom of the river. She felt herself freezing, when a pair of warm arms grabbed her wrists and pulled her out of the river, laying her in the shallows of it. Finally, after all these years, she could make out the face of her saviour. It was him. Fujin. She had been saved by the God of wind.

When she came back to, she gasped as though her lungs were full of water again, her knees buckling as Fujin helped soften her fall.

"I-it..." she looked up at him, "it was you."

He smiled at her and nodded.

"I've watched you grow, from when you were but an infant all the way up until now," he explained, kneeling down in front of her, his hands still grasping hers, "my brother told me you were a lost cause, but I've known since the moment I saved you that you'd become something amazing." "I..." (Y/n) whispered, shaking her head, "...I don't know what to say. I-I mean I'm so very grateful to have been saved by you, but I already have a place in the tournament." "No place is set in stone," Fujin informed her, "you may switch sides at any time you wish."

He let go of her and stood up.

"I'll tell you what, why don't you come and train with me?" he asked, the girl tilting her head slightly, "perhaps you can decide based off of that whether or not you wish to accept my invitation. It can take from a day, to the day before the tournament, and we can train for as long as you'd like each day."

He offered a hand to her.

"What say you, (Y/n) Tsung?"

That was how she ended up face first to the ground, eating dirt after Fujin had deceived her yet again in kombat for the fifth week she had known him.

"You are reckless, (Y/n)," Fujin told her from his place across from her, "you make predictions that you are far too confident of."

With a groan, she pushed herself up off the ground and wiped the dirt off of her face, finding blood in that mix which she then began to taste in her mouth.

"Any advice, oh mighty all-knowing god?" she mocked him, taking fighting stance once again as she prepared herself. "Expect the unexpected, my feather," he instructed, watching as she ran at him with determination in her eyes.

She went to punch him, and as he blocked it, she instead changed the attack while he was vulnerable and swung her leg to swipe him from his feet. While he admitted internally that she was clever for that, he was still able to dodge it with ease, hopping over her leg.

With one swift movement, he brought his firm straight hand down on her back. She cried out and fell once again, coughing violently at the way the attack winded her. Fujin stood patiently, waiting for her to catch her breath again, and once she had, she turned onto her back and breathed the air back into her lungs.

"How...how do you do it, Fujin?" she breathed out her question, the god smiling sweetly as he offered her a hand.

She took it and he helped her up, though placing a hand either side of her waist.

"Have you ever danced the waltz before?" he asked, though a flustered (Y/n) took a moment to answer. "N-no," she answered in a huff, crossing her arms against her chest, "why does that matter?" "I find kombat very alike to dance," he explained, grabbing her arms and gently unfolding them, "it requires much grace and agility to be effective."

He placed one hand on his shoulder, and the other kept in his own, while he let his remaining hand rest on her waist once again.

"Just follow my lead," he instructed, the woman nodding timidly as he only smiled, "to begin, step back on your right foot."

She did as instructed, and as she did, Fujin stepped forward on his left foot.

"Alright, now take a step to the left."

Again, she did as she was asked, and Fujin did the opposite to her.

She could hardly focus with the feeling of his hands on her body and the way his gentle breath would tickle her face. He smelled like a fresh spring morning, like mist and dewdrops and sunlight.

"Very good," he praised her, "now step forward on your left foot."

For all of this dance, she had been staring down at her own feet, shakily ensuring she made every step correctly. As many would know, it is proper etiquette to look your partner in the eyes while dancing with them, and while he understood why she would struggle with this, he'd still encourage it.

"(Y/n)," he began, his hand moving from her waist to pinch her chin as he drew her face upward so he could look into her eyes, "a dancer always looks their partner in the eyes when conducting a dance."

Staring into his glowing orbs like that, her words got caught in her throat, so she only gulped them back down and nodded. His hand fell away from her face and back down to her waist, and they continued with this lesson.

He tried to hide a giggle at how red her face was, not only from the mix of blood and dirt that she had neglected to properly wipe off before, but also from the blood that was in her face that told him she was flustered. He could almost feel the heat radiating off her face, but he started to think that maybe that was the heat from his own face he was feeling. Not nearly as intensely as she would've been feeling it, but he couldn't help but feel that maybe there was more to their relationship than sensei and student. He wouldn't jump to labels though, he'd merely explore this sensation with her, and whether she reciprocated these feelings or not was entirely out of his hands.

Fujin was snapped out of his thoughts when she stepped on his foot, though obviously by accident she was still very apologetic.

"Oh- I'm so sorry," she gasped softly, attempting to move away from him. "No, no, it's alright," he insisted, keeping a tight hold on her so she couldn't escape his grip, "you're doing very well."

It was from that point that (Y/n) actually began to consider switching sides. This bond she shared with Fujin ran deeper than she ever cared to consider, and she was yet to figure out just what she was destined to do.

-

"Are you alright, my dear?"

(Y/n) hadn't realised that she had been vacantly staring into her plate of food until the moment she heard her father's voice, looking up at the old man with a dazed look in her eyes.

"Huh?" she hummed, obviously having zoned out. "You've hardly touched your food," Shang pointed out, tilting his head ever so slightly, "is there something the matter?" "I-uh," she stuttered, shaking her head and rubbing her eyes, "no, I'm just...tired is all. Been training non stop for weeks and it's starting to catch up to me."

He smiled endearingly at her and pushed her plate of food closer to her.

"A champion needs their meals to produce energy," he encouraged her, "after all, you'll be fighting in the tournament in a few weeks. You will be my champion."

That horrid sensation of guilt filled her stomach once again, ruining her appetite and putting her entirely off of the meal once more. She loved her father, like any paternally nurtured child would, but after the time she had spent training with Fujin, she realised that her concept of what was good and what was bad wasn't taught correctly.

She was heavily conflicted, so much so that she couldn't even think anymore. And because she couldn't think, she could no longer sleep either.

-

(Y/n) didn't even want to raise her head when she heard the tapping on her window. She had hardly seen a blink of sleep since her conflicting thoughts began, and her face was far too comfortable nuzzled in her red velvet pillow. At first, she tried to convince herself that it was nothing more than a tree branch or an animal. But of course, what animal would tap repetitively like that?

With a huff, she lifted her head, slowly and painfully turning to see who it was that bothered her in this evening. She didn't know why she was even surprised, she always saw Fujin at this time of the afternoon, it was only natural he came looking for her after she remained loyal for every other day.

Deciding it was only right, she got up from her place on her oh so comfortable bed, leaving it's safety to open the window and see her friend.

"I'm sorry Fujin, I forgot," she sighed apologetically, Fujin shaking his head as a worried look carved itself into his features. "Don't apologise," he demurred, "are you alright?" "Y-yeah," she stuttered, rubbing her forehead, "I'm fine."

The man cocked his brow and tilted his head ever so slightly, and that was all she needed to see to know that he wasn't convinced.

“Fujin, I’m...” she began, closing her eyes as an attempt to stop them from tearing up, “...I’m conflicted.” He didn’t say anything, he only looked down briefly, and she could see that he understood what she was saying. When he looked up again, there was no particular emotion on his face, though it was comforting to her as he held his hand out. 

“Would you like to come with me, just for a while?” 

(Y/n) truly didn’t want to go anywhere right then, she was tired and upset and feeling more emotions than she ever had in her life. But something in her chest told her that she needed this, she needed to get away from her cave and feel something other than upset for a bit.

She didn’t say anything, she only nodded and took his hand and he helped her out of her window and to the ground. Though they had met the ground, he didn’t let go of her hand, he held it the whole time the two of them walked together in the dark, the forest only illuminated by his ethereal, godly glow which provided (Y/n) with a sense of security. He was warm, he always was. 

Shortly, the two of them had arrived at a small little lake/rockpool type thing that had the most beautiful little waterfall that fell into it. What set it aside from any regular little lake was it’s iridescent blue glow that emitted from the stones in the water, and the cute little fireflies that also glowed a gorgeous sapphire in colour. (Y/n) had never known such a place could exist in Outworld, she’d only thought it misery and evil. But she supposed that every world had it’s beautiful secrets. 

She’d spent so much time simply admiring it that she hadn’t noticed Fujin removing his shirt, and when (Y/n) did finally notice her face blew up in red and heat. 

“W-what are you doing??” she asked, flustered though unable to keep her eyes off of his muscular figure. “I’m going for a swim,” he explained nonchalantly, throwing his shirt over to a large stone so it wouldn’t get wet as he stepped into the shallow part of the water, “you should join me.”

She stood there a moment, shy and bashful, not really knowing what she was doing or where this was going. But why on earth would she pass up this opportunity?

With a huff, she began to disrobe yourself, having considered leaving her pants on but figuring that they would become too heavy in the water due to their baggy nature, so she removed them too. (Y/n) was left in her delicate unders - a white tube top and a matching pair of underwear. They were light and thin for a reason, but it turns out they wouldn’t serve her dignity well in water.

Timidly, (Y/n) approached the water, letting it surround her ankles as it was not freezing, but cold enough to be fresh and crisp to her skin.

“Come on, Feather,” Fujin called from further into the pool, “the water’s nice.”

She hesitantly heeded his call, subtly covering her chest out of embarrassment from the exposure, her skin covered in goose bumps as she didn’t dare look Fujin in the eyes. 

Since she had been looking down so long, she was startled when she was splashed with water - water which drenched her chest and even got to her face. (Y/n) looked up in annoyance, only to find Fujin floating there in the water with a cheeky smile adorning his lips.

“You were taking too long,” he teased, all annoyance on her side fading away as she matched his mischievous manner with an evil smirk. 

From under the water, she brought up a pair of glowing hands. Fujin knew (Y/n) rarely used her powers, so he was aware that she wasn’t just playing around. From behind him, she summoned a decent wave which drenched him completely, ruining his perfectly done up hair which he decided to undo. 

She’d never seen him with his hair down, and needless to say she was glad she drenched him like that for the sake of seeing just how long his hair really was. He just ended up rubbing the salt into the wound by flicking it back and forth, and by then she was sure her face was burning bright red. 

“Is that what we’re gonna do?” he asked, pushing his wet hair out of his face as you shrugged. “you started it,” (Y/n) said cheekily, slowly letting herself sink a little further into the water. “alright, if that’s how you’d like to play,” he began, drawing water from the lake with his wind abilities, “then we’ll play.”

(Y/n) shrieked as he splashed her with water once again, though that being one of joy as she had a smile on her face so big that it ached. She had completely abandoned the idea of timidity and embarrassment as she drew more water herself and battled with her mentor. Though when water had it’s limits, the two of them engaged in some light-hearted kombat. At first it remained traditional, with ordinary attacks that involved ordinary blocking and countering, though over time it became more of a playful wrestle, the two of them trying to overpower each other with more extended forms of physical contact, like grabbing each other by the arms and trying to push the other over. Laughter echoed in the rockpools, along with the splashing of water and occasional shrieks. Though when (Y/n) was about to overpower Fujin, he disappeared into the water. She knew what was happening, he was trying to sneak up on her. So she waited, listening carefully, feeling any vibration she could as she remained still in the water. her eyes were closed as she knew vision would be of no use to her in this stealth attack, only sound and touch were necessary. 

She could feel him, but perhaps a moment too late as he shot up from the water, engulfing her in his arms from behind as she tried to wrestle herself out of his grip in hysterical laughter. Though as she did, the two of them ended up wandering closer to the shore, and in all of their excitement, the two of them tripped on a larger stone and toppled to the ground. 

Fujin was careful to not allow all of his weight to crush her, since he ended up being the one cushioned by her falling first onto her back. All went silent as (Y/n) realised Fujin was hovering over her, a knee between her legs and his hands either side her head. Neither of them spoke, they only stared at each other, unmoving. She was absolutely fixated on him, not a single thought it her mind as he was the same. 

Though not a moment later did her thoughts sync, and she understood what exactly was happening. (Y/n) didn’t breathe when Fujin leaned down and captured her in a passionate kiss, only letting the air escape her lungs in a dreamy sigh when she returned his gesture in a fit of hunger and infatuation for him and only him. Her finger laced in his wet hair, and she felt a hand of his caress her waist so innocently yet so obviously out of sexual frustration. 

And in those waters he took her. 

She knew where she wanted to stand now. 

-

On the day of the tournament, (Y/n) woke up with not another emotion other than pure dread. She felt sick to her stomach from anxiety alone, and she had no idea how she was going to pull this manoeuvre off.  Though she knew she had to confront her father about it eventually, she wanted to put it off for as long as she could so she could organise her thoughts, be sure that this was the decision she wanted to make before she did something she regretted. 

She was already dressed in her lightest yet most extravagant clothing, the clothing she knew would provide her with the most flexibility and agility, that wouldn’t weigh her down or hinder her performance, because tournament wasn’t something to take lightly. And as she stared at herself in the mirror, adjusting her hair in a way that would keep it out of her face, a loud knock came to her door.

It was her dad, she knew that because he called her name. (Y/n) had no time to think, so she panicked and escaped through her window, running as fast as she could away from that place. 

In all of her anxious exhaustion, she found herself at the waterfall Fujin had taken her to that one evening - it was the only place she could think to go. She sat on the rocks, and it was there she began into uncontrollable sobs involuntarily. (Y/n) didn’t know what else to do, so she just cried and cried and cried. 

She were startled when she felt a cold hand come to her back, flinching as she looked back to see who it was. Even in her teary vision she could make out Fujin in all his beauty. At first he didn’t even say anything, he only scooped her up and sat with her in his arms, holding her like a child as he let her cry. He held her close enough so that his shirt could catch her tears, and his smell was of some solace to her, so in time she calmed down to a few stray tears and sniffles.

He adjusted her in his lap in a way that allowed him to see her face and cup it, affectionately wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

“You’ll be perfect today, my feather,” he whispered softly, “and no matter what happens, I’ll be here to ensure you have a warm home to fall back onto.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, and she gripped his hands like they were her lifeline, feeling more tears well up in her eyes as she simply started crying again. Fujin just kissed her face and held her tight, waiting patiently for her to be ready. 

-

Fujin entered the walls of Shang Tsung’s palace, his champion at his side as his allies stared in horror and shock. 

“What are you doing with that snakes’ offspring??” his brother, Raiden asked in disgust as his own champions mumbled amongst each other. “(Y/n) Tsung is my champion,” Fujin stated confidently, placing a hand on her shoulder, “she is on our side now.” “Are you crazy Fujin??” Raiden fumed, “you’ve recruited the enemy! You may very well have killed us all at that point!” “You don’t see humans like I do, brother,” Fujin nodded toward the woman, “Unlike her father, she is only young and has had the time and opportunity to see the light,” he looked back toward his brother, “have faith in myself and (Y/n), Raiden. I would never have recruited someone who would jeopardise us in Kombat.”

Raiden stared at (Y/n), analysing her and reading her character, reluctant to believe that she would be of any benefit to Earthrealm and it’s survival. But if he trusted anyone, it was his brother - someone like Fujin couldn’t be bewitched by even Shang Tsung’s own flesh and blood. With a sigh of defeat, he looked down and looked back up at her, placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t let us down, Tsung sorceress,” he instructed her, the woman nodding confidently as she straightened up. “You have my word, Lord Raiden,” she vowed, a delicate hand over her chest.

Raiden gave her a single nod, and left her side, instructing her as well as his own champions to follow suit. 

For the most part, (Y/n) recognised Raiden’s group of champions. Lui Kang, and his good friend Kung Lao, descendant of the great Kung Lao. Edenian allies Princess Kitana and her friend Jade. Though there were some military personnel from Earthrealm who she didn’t recognise. That wasn’t of her biggest concerns, at that moment she was more worried about how she would face her father. 

“Lady (Y/n) Tsung!”

Perhaps her father shouldn’t have been her top concern at that time. 

(Y/n) was startled when she felt a strong hand grip her wrist and spin her around, finding it was the emperor to this very realm, Shao Kahn, with his Naknadan debt collector goon, Kollector at his side as always. Obviously he hadn’t noticed the group she were with, assuming she had only gotten lost in the crowd as he was good friends of her fathers’ and would never think her to betray the man. The group unknowingly left her behind as she entertained the emperors greeting.

“Shao Kahn, e-excellent to see you as always!” she beamed nervously, trying not to sound too suspicious as the man placed his hands on his hips confidently. “I am keen on seeing you in kombat today,” he declared in his powerful voice, “I’m sure your father will be very proud.” “Uh, speaking of my father,” she began, scratching the back of her neck, “you haven’t seen him around yet, have you?” “I had just spoken with him, he was at the buffet greeting other guests and kombatants,” Shao Kahn answered, the woman nodding. “Okay, great, thank you. Be seeing you, Shao Kahn!” she thanked him briefly, rushing off before he could ask her why she went in the opposite direction to where he had directed her. 

(Y/n) wanted to find the group before she found anymore of her father’s friends who would no doubt stop her to talk to her about the tournament. But they, as well as herself, were lost in the crowd of mixed races from across the realms, though predominantly Earthrealmers, Outworlders and Edenians. 

Though despite her great efforts to avoid her father, (Y/n) felt his presence behind her and she was all too late to get away.

“(Y/n)!” her father called for her from behind, grabbing her wrist like Shao Kahn did but in a much gentler way, “where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.” “Father...” she tried to speak, though choking on her own guilt, “...I...”

He stared at her intently, waiting patiently for her to speak. But the words never came, and she simply hugged him. She figured that if she was becoming allies with his enemy, this would be the last chance she’d get to hug him again. Momentarily the man was confused, but didn’t make questioning affection a habit as he closed his arms around her and gave her a tender hug within the crowd. (Y/n) felt her eyes tear up, but she didn’t dare cry, she only savoured the moment, before he pulled back and gave her a proud smile that tore her heart in two. 

“Now come along, you’re to be presented alongside Emperor Shao Kahn and his daughter,” her father instructed.

Before (Y/n) could protest, he was dragging her along through the crowd, eventually coming to the thrones that centred what would classically be a ballroom, though in this case was a kombat ring. Though she had just interacted with him, Shao Kahn had quickly gone to claim his place on the centred throne, his daughter Mileena - a long time friend of (Y/n)’s - at his side in her own place. Being at the centre stage, she was much too afraid to begin confrontation then and there, so she obeyed her father’s orders of taking her own seat, beside her fathers which was next to Shao Kahn’s throne. Mileena looked across at (Y/n) and chucked her a playful glance, though not reciprocating her mood as she gave her a polite nod before looking back over the crowd. 

Shang Tsung captured the attention of eager kombatants as he stood up and clapped once, silencing the crowd. 

“In the beginning, were the elder gods. In their wisdom, they created a tournament to safeguard each realm from the threat of invasion,” he began as standard protocol, “once a generation, the finest warriors must battle to decide the fate of their realm. The winner will be granted long life and great power. If one realm wins the tournament ten times consecutively, they will gain the right to merge with the opposing realm, and rule as they see fit.”

His hands came to rest in one another before his chest, as he smiled ever so slightly.

“I, Shang Tsung, emissary of the great Shao Kahn - emperor of Outworld, winner of the last nine tournaments against Earthrealm - welcome you to Mortal Kombat.”

There was a surge of excitement and cheering within the crowd below, those of every race impatient to draw some blood and break some bones not only for the sake of their realm, but the sake of causing pain and suffering to others. Earthrealmers weren’t as keen on the idea of having fun here - only surviving and ensuring that this tournament wasn’t won by Shao Kahn at any cost. 

(Y/n) would fight by her father until duty called for her to switch sides - and such an event was inevitable. Her father turned around to look at her, stepping over to her side as he held a hand out for her.

“My champion, and only child, (Y/n) Tsung,” he announced as she took his hand and stood up, hearing the crowd cheer at her name, particularly those of Outworld as they knew her to put up a decent fight, “will be fighting on behalf of the Outworld tonight.”

Guilty, she looked over toward Fujin and his brother Raiden. The thunder god was glaring at her with hatred and a sense of betrayal, however when she cast her sight over to Fujin she felt a sense of relief wash over her, his eyes filled with nothing but love and patience as he knew she would not betray them that night. 

(Y/n) was met with her first opponent, an arrogant man who didn’t seem the slightest bit intimidated by her, most likely because she was only a girl to him, and where he came from, most girls didn’t really fight. That was okay, she wasn’t offended, in fact, his underestimation would give her an advantage.

The fight began, and (Y/n) unleashed her agility and skill, surprising her opponent with her speed and precision. She dodged his attacks effortlessly, countering with swift and calculated strikes. Each move she made showcased her mastery of combat techniques inherited from her father, combined with her own unique style. The crowd watched in awe as she gracefully evaded her opponent's every move.

As the battle intensified, (Y/n) could feel the eyes of her father and Fujin on her. When she remembered her father, she felt anxious. But whenever she remembered Fujin’s presence, she felt it working hard to wash away her anxieties, strengthening her resolve and giving her the power to continue. She tapped into her inner strength, focusing her energy and unleashing a powerful combination of strikes that left her opponent staggering.

With a final decisive blow, (Y/n) emerged victorious, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause. There, the man lay on the ground, a groaning blood covered mess, and (Y/n) could feel the guilt intensely as she looked across at him, knowing exactly what was to come next.

“Finish him,” Shao Kahn commanded of her.

She glanced at her father, who nodded solemnly, reminding her of the stakes they were playing for. This was it - if she finished this man, there was no way she could represent Earthrealm, like a contract, binding her to this land.

(Y/n) approached him, slowly, as everyone around them watched with anticipation, ready to see her tear him a part. At first, she was thinking of ditching this whole idea of joining the good guys and killing him, to save herself the pain of having to betray her father. But, when he looked up at her, outwardly unafraid though she could see a glint of fear in his eyes, she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

“...I...I can’t.”

There was a few gasps followed by a surge of chatter amongst the crowd at the shocking announcement. (Y/n) sighed as she extended a hand for the man. At first, he eyed it suspiciously, afraid that this was some sort of sick joke or set up which would lead to a humiliating death. She understood why he would think such a thing, but remained patient, tilting her head and giving him a sincere smile. 

Reluctantly, he reached out and grabbed her hand, surprised when all she did was help pull him onto his feet. She let go of his hand and took a step back, giving him a moment to collect himself. The crowd fell into a stunned silence, unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events. (Y/n) could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, but she could no longer hide from what was rightfully her fate.

“Father, I do not represent Outworld in kombat,” she began, turning to face Shang Tsung, “I don’t stand for these cruel things you promote within this land. I have seen the suffering caused by the tournaments - by Outworld, the pain and loss inflicted upon innocent lives. I cannot be a part of it any longer. Now, I fight for Earthrealm."

Shang Tsung's expression turned cold and furious. He couldn't believe what he was hearing from his own daughter. 

"You dare defy me, (Y/n)? After all I've done for you? I raised you to be a powerful sorceress, the next champion of Outworld!" 

(Y/n) stood tall, her voice unwavering. 

"You raised me to be more than just a weapon, Father. I have learned compassion and empathy. I cannot turn a blind eye to the suffering caused by these battles. Earthrealm and its people deserve a chance at peace."

Shang Tsung stared at his daughter in disbelief, as a piercing silence towered over the kombat hall. He was stunned, hurt, heartbroken, this couldn’t be true.

“You are bewitched, daughter!” he accused, pointing a finger at her.

(Y/n) shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes.

"No, Father, I am not bewitched. I have made a choice, a choice to stand against the cruelty and violence. I want to fight for a better world, a world where all realms can coexist in peace."

Shang Tsung's anger turned into a mix of disappointment and sadness. He struggled to find the words to respond, his voice barely a whisper.

"I thought I raised you better than this, (Y/n). But it seems I have failed as a father."

(Y/n) stepped closer to him, her voice filled with emotion.

"No, Father, you didn't fail. You gave me the skills and knowledge, but I have chosen a different path. I can no longer follow the path of darkness."

Shang Tsung looked into his daughter's eyes, searching for any trace of doubt or hesitation. But all he found was determination and resolve.

"Very well, (Y/n). If this is the path you have chosen, then I cannot stand in your way. But know this, you are no longer my daughter. From this moment on, you are my enemy - Outworld’s enemy."

Tears streamed down (Y/n)'s face as she nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. She didn’t say anything else - she couldn’t. The consequences of her decision had finally come crashing down upon her, but she knew she couldn’t fold to this guilt trip. She had to remain strong, for Earthrealm’s sake.

“Should anything have happened to you, I have prepared a second champion to use at my disposal,” Shang Tsung began, cutting through the silence once again and piquing everyone’s interest, “I suppose he will be of great use at this time.”

Shang Tsung clicked his fingers once, as if he were summoning someone.

“Prince Goro.”

(Y/n) felt her heart sink at the name which her father had called, hearing earth shaking footsteps which echoed within the halls of her former home as the warrior summoned came to the kombat hall.

The shokan prince stood tall and confident at Shang Tsung’s side, towering menacingly over everyone in the room with the staggering height difference and his sheer body mass. His four massive arms were a clear display of his formidable strength. Goro's eyes locked with (Y/n)'s, and there was a mix of curiosity and recognition in his gaze. They had crossed paths before, in training sessions and sparring matches when she was still under her father's tutelage.

But, like most Outworld fighters, he was merciless. 

“The tournament shall now continue.”

(Y/n) turned into the crowd, joining them with the man she had just fought following her as the next kombatants were prepared for the next fight. They approached the group which (Y/n) had entered with, and the tension that had been there before regarding her presence had diminished, which she assumed was from her display of loyalty. 

Fujin approached her, wiping the residual tears from her face as Raiden stared.

“I am sorry for ever doubting you, (Y/n) Tsung,” he apologised, though his voice was still firm and assertive, “I understand that it must’ve been hard to part with your father in that way.” "It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made," she replied, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "But I couldn't continue to stand by and watch the suffering. Earthrealm needs us now more than ever."

Now, most Outworld fighters seemed more arrogant than they were skilled, and now that (Y/n) had switched onto her rightful side, she was able to give her now fellow kombatants tips when fighting various opponents, and most importantly, pinpoint all of their weaknesses for her allies to use at their disposal. 

The tournament progressed nicely, and so far, no one who represented Earthrealm had lost a match yet, save for you defeating the man you had come to know as Johnny Cage at the beginning of it all. You guys were almost through with it all, having defeated most of Outworld’s opponents. All who was left now, was Prince Goro.

A member of the special forces, Jax Briggs, had volunteered to take on Goro, considering he was quite large and burly himself. (Y/n) wasn’t entirely confident in his ability to battle the shokan warrior, though she wouldn’t say anything out of fear of being criticised by her peers who were already weary of her. 

As Jax stepped into the ring, he prepared himself for the fight, stretching as his face displayed not even a hint of fear. After a moment, they were set to kombat. The battle between Jax and Goro commenced, the two combatants circling each other, measuring their opponent's strength. Jax relied on his immense physical power and combat training, while Goro unleashed his brute force and four deadly arms. 

With every strike, Jax's muscles bulged, and he displayed remarkable agility for his size. He aimed powerful punches and bone-crushing kicks at Goro, determined to bring the shokan prince down. 

The crowd held their breath, their eyes fixated on the intense fight unfolding before them. (Y/n) watched anxiously, her heart pounding in her chest. 

While the man did put up a good fight, it was only inevitable that he would become tired. 

Jax seemed to slip up, and Goro seized the opportunity and grabbed onto the smaller man’s arms. You bit your lip as you saw exactly what was to come from this.

Agonisingly, everyone watched as Goro began stretching the man, holding onto his body with his two lower arms while his two upper arms had a tight grasps on Jax’s arms. Jax began screaming as he realised what was happening, and soon enough, both of his arms had been torn clean off. 

There was an audible gasp within the audience, and it was clear who the victor was. 

Despite all the blood he was losing, Jax seemed to still be alive, as his special forces partner Sonya Blade dragged him out of the ring, allowing Raiden to seal his wounds over with his powers to stop the bleeding. 

(Y/n) looked between everyone, guilt pooling in her gut, and she knew in that moment that she could no longer hold her silence.

“I must face him,” she announced, causing the frantic chatter to cease as everyone within her group looked at her, “I’m the only one here who has the knowledge that I do about Prince Goro. And regardless, if anyone should die at his hands, it should be me - not anyone else.”

No one argued with her, they were all simply stunned at the announcement. Fujin approached her, placing a firm yet affectionate hand on her shoulder.

“I believe in you, my feather,” he assured her, his eyes fixated on hers, “you will not fail us today, you have my faith.”

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the imminent battle that awaited her. With her heart heavy and her determination unwavering, she approached the ring where Goro stood, his gaze fixed upon her.

As (Y/n) stepped into the ring, the air was thick with tension. The crowd fell into a hushed silence, their eyes locked on the sorceress about to face the monstrous shokan prince. She could feel the weight of their expectations and the weight of her own conviction.

Goro's four arms flexed, his eyes narrowing with anticipation. He towered over (Y/n), his towering presence seemingly insurmountable. But she refused to let fear consume her.

Their starting cue was called, and the kombat was instant. Compared to Goro, (Y/n) was obviously much more agile, so every reckless punch and kick he threw at her, she was able to dodge with ease, counterattacking swiftly with precise strikes. He was yet to lay a hit on her, and to him that was torture.

(Y/n) had studied Goro's fighting style extensively and knew that his size and brute strength were his greatest assets. She focused on exploiting his vulnerabilities, targeting the joints in his arms and legs, aiming to immobilize him and diminish his advantage.

Though, getting too close was a great risk, and it seems that not even she could evade his close contact attacks.

As she aimed to kick in the back of his leg while she presumed he was not focused, he spun around, his fist connecting with her face as she was sent flying backward, to the edge of the ring. 

There was a slight pause as (Y/n) regained her senses. That was the first hit he had made on her, and that may well have been enough to doom her for the rest of the match. She reached up to touch her face, finding that when she pulled her hand away, that there was blood, most likely pouring out of her nose though she couldn’t be sure.

Her eyes drew upward toward her opponent, and suddenly, they began glowing green as she conjured magic in her hands. This was an indicator that, should she win, she would not spare the Prince’s life. It was becoming all too real, and even the crowd was stunned by this revelation. 

Their fight continued, considerably more violent than it had been beforehand. The green magic which circled (Y/n)’s fists proved a worthy advantage, as her hits now seemed to pack a little more punch than before and had visible effects on her opponent. Goro could easily match this energy, and naturally his movements became more erratic, each hit he threw with the intention to kill. 

(Y/n) threaded in and out of his space, weaving through each hit he threw as she tried to get close enough once again to place a hit that would wind him enough that she could hit him with a final blow. However, in doing this, in her concussed state, she would find herself coat-hangered by the shokan prince, catching her on his elbow as he drew her in and began choking her out. 

Clawing at his arms, she spluttered desperately trying to free herself though at this point it was useless. Her face was becoming bright red as she suffocated, searching her mind for any answer at all which could help her out of this situation.

Her Earthrealm allies watched with anxiety, and Fujin’s patience had worn thin as he prayed for her to do something - anything, to defeat this beast and return safely to him. 

(Y/n) could slowly feel herself losing consciousness, as old memories played back in her mind. It was true - your life did flash before you when you were about to die. 

In her mind, she saw her earliest memories - her mother’s death, her near death experience, being raised by her father. 

Then, her most recent memories, and her encounters with her father before this moment.

"Damage is what makes me stronger, father," she huffed, wiping the blood on her top as she took fighting stance once again, "you want me prepared for kombat, don't you?" "Yes, of course," he smiled, watching as she continued to punch the tree, "but you don't need to focus primarily on your physical strength. You are a sorceress, after all."

(Y/n) felt a rush of adrenaline force it’s way through her body, and she felt herself react in a blanked out state of mind. Before she knew it, the Shokan prince was dead. 

Everyone observed in quiet shock.

Shoved through Goro’s face was the blade of a glowing green gauntlet which (Y/n) had summoned in her fist. As it retracted, Goro took a few mindless steps back before he fell to the ground. 

Goro, the Shokan Prince, was dead. 

Her father was right about one thing, she definitely could rely on her sorceress powers more often. 

There was an uproar of cheering and celebration, namely amongst her Earthrealm allies. 

Exhausted, (Y/n) collapsed, falling onto her back as she breathed heavily. In her blurred and muffled senses, she could still easily make out the face which hung over her - Fujin, of course, who was knelt down beside her.

Fujin's expression was a mixture of relief and concern as he gently cradled (Y/n)'s head in his hands. He could see the exhaustion etched on her face and the toll the battle had taken on her.

"You did it, my feather," he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. “You’ve saved Earthrealm for another generation. I’m so very proud of you, (Y/n).”

(Y/n) managed a weak smile as she gazed up at him. Even as she coughed up a little more blood, Fujin still couldn’t help but have an affectionate eye for her. 

As the adrenaline began to wear off, the pain from her injuries intensified, and her body protested against the strain it had endured. But she couldn't help feeling a sense of fulfilment and accomplishment.

Earthrealm was safe for another generation, and (Y/n) was safe with her lover in a new home. 

Though, these events would weigh on her for the rest of her life, and naturally, the consequences of her betrayal would come back to haunt her. 

-

Part 2 boys??? T-T

-

[restinslices]

Liar Pt2

Me finally writing the part 2?! Wow! So this part is honestly filler. It's Matthias being in his own head and meeting Nina, who will become an ally. Imma be real, nothing happens BUT LISTEN- it's setting shit up. Have faith. Enjoy his mental crisis. Druskelle!Matthias Helvar x Heartrender!Wife!Reader (she does not make an apperance-) Word Count: 2059 Summary: Ever since you've left, Matthias has had conflicting thoughts about your relationship and it's driving him insane, but an unlikely friend makes him realize not all hope is lost. Y/N - Your Name D/N - Daughter Name Link to part 1

(Lowkey should've used this gif for part 1 and part1's for this, but rip)

“Dear my love and life,

I don’t know what to say. Maybe I should say sorry again for the whatever thousandth time. I never know how to start these, so I always say I’m sorry. I wish Djel gave me the power to go back in time and fix the mistakes I’ve made. I wish I could go back and hug you when you told me about you being Grisha, instead of pushing you away. I wish I would’ve held you and told you I’d forever love you instead of calling you a witch. I wish when I woke up, I had my wife beside me and my daughter in the room next to ours. I have lots of wishes, and since I can’t change the past, I have a wish that’s selfish and cruel.

I wish you both were dead. I wish that the Druskelle had found and killed you two, or all of you instead of just Elise and Erik. 

I know I sound terrible, but not knowing where you are or how you are hurts more than you two being dead. I wish that one day, I’m sitting at home and someone comes in to say they found and killed you both.

Am I a bad person for thinking this? I’ve heard rumors about other countries. I’ve heard Ravka trains their children for war. I’ve heard Shu Han does terrible experiments on Grisha. I’ve heard in The Wandering Isle that the Kaelish kill Grisha so they can drink their blood. I’ve heard in Kerch, Grisha are put under contracts and basically become slaves. I’d rather you be dead than go through any of that. 

My love, you remember the day I proposed to you. I know you do. What you don’t know is that the night before I did so, I sat outside for hours. I couldn’t possibly sleep when I was terrified about what I was gonna do. I saw a star that shined brighter than the others, and for some reason, I thought it could be Djel watching over me. I prayed and begged Djel to convince you to say yes, and you did. 

Maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong. Maybe I’m too busy wishing, instead of praying, but I haven’t felt like praying in so long. Maybe if I find that star again, he’ll hear me better like he did the first time. Maybe I’ll get another chance and we’ll all run away. Maybe-”

“Anything going on up there?” the Grisha woman asked.

Matthias found himself writing a lot since you left. Not in some diary though. He’d write letters to you and his daughter, then throw them in the fireplace and watch it be engulfed in flames. 

At first the letters were angry and full of betrayal. You lied to him for years. You used him. That’s what he thought at first.

It had been days and you hadn’t been caught. He happened to have paper and ink around him, so he wrote this letter filled with insults, profanities and accusations, then he threw it in the fireplace. Although he wrote all this down, about how you were a liar and a witch, he didn’t go with the druskelle to try and capture you. Others assumed that your “witchcraft” made him still feel sick, but in reality, Matthias knew deep down that if he saw you he wouldn’t be able to take the shot. He would’ve been expected to either kill or capture his ex wife and child and he knew he couldn't. You were his love, and once your daughter was born, you both promised each other to make her number one in your lives. You’d raise her with love and guidance and make sure she never knew a lonely day. You even promised each other that if one was to die, the other had to keep going everyday even if they didn’t want to. You both promised to make her your whole life. Now he was expected to forget all about that. He wanted to forget all about you, but he couldn’t.

His letters went from angry to pleading. Sometimes his letters would be destroyed by his own tears before it even reached the fire. This especially happened whenever an important date passed, like your daughter’s birthday. It hit him hard then. The loneliness became more apparent. Matthias had quit being a Druskelle, telling Brum some bullshit about how his head still didn’t feel right and he didn’t want to mess something up. In reality, being a Druskelle didn’t feel right anymore. His brothers gave him sympathy, saying you were evil and he was strong for realizing this and breaking out of your spell, but it didn’t make sense. When people look back at their memories with a manipulator or abuser, they notice signs. They see things they didn’t see before. And while Matthias did indeed notice signs that you were Grisha, he didn’t see any signs of evil. 

Matthias knew you even before his family was killed, and you stood by him as he mourned. You stayed even when he was sure you’d leave. How could you possibly be evil? It didn’t make sense. 

Matthias doesn’t know why he accepted Brum’s offer to go on another exploration. Maybe it was loneliness. He had practically isolated himself for two years. No more you. No more D/N. No more brotherhood.

Or maybe he was hoping somehow they’d find you and he’d be able to escape with you.

Either way, he accepted. A mistake.

The boat ended up sinking and Matthias was sure he’d die, until he suddenly felt his heart speeding up in his chest. When he came to, he realized one of the Grisha, a heartrender with brown hair and a smart mouth, had saved him. Granted, it was just so he could push them to shore, but at least he was breathing.

They found a hut, slept by each other, and that’s when he realized two things.

Number one, your wedding ring, which he always kept in his pocket, was gone.

Number two, when the woman sped his heart up so he stayed warm, it felt familiar. It was how he felt when he laid next to you. He always assumed that maybe his heart beat so fast because being near you was the greatest honor and he hadn’t gotten used to it. He’d still say that was true, but the reality was that you used your power to keep him warm every single night. If he hadn’t been around someone, he might’ve cried.

He heard fingers snapping next to his ear. “Druskelle? Anyone up there?”.

Matthias blinked hard to snap himself out of his thoughts, then cleared his throat. His eyes had been on the fire in front of him the whole time, as if he could burn his letter like he usually did. He looked to the side as the woman sat next to him. He couldn’t even remember what they were talking about.

It was as if she read his mind since next she said, “you were telling me all about Fjerdan woman then you stopped. Hoping one appears?”.

“Yes” he answered without thinking.

~~~

Matthias refused to answer any of her questions. In all honesty, she was annoying him. She was incredibly nosey and kept insisting they were lost, but they couldn’t have been lost because Druskelle didn’t get lost! All trees look the same! Rocks look the same! A certain patch of snow looked the same as other patches of snow!

They were lost. Dammit.

Matthias sat on a big rock with a flat top in defeat. What good was being alive if they were just gonna freeze to death?

The woman sat next to him, “I’m gonna ask a few questions if you don’t mind”.

“I do mind”.

“What’s your name? I like ‘Dumb Druskelle’ but surely you were born with something else. Todd? A Kevin maybe? James?”. Matthias hated she gave the same comfort a friend would. It was strange. He didn’t know her, but he had been so lonely that he enjoyed having someone else near. And if he was gonna die, he wouldn’t mind dying with someone else. 

Although Matthias was silent, she kept going. “Who’s back home for you?”.

“No one” he thought.

The woman pulled something out of one of her pockets and presented it to him. It was your wedding ring, the one he thought probably sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Before he could speak she said “I grabbed it before it sunk too far. Figured I could use it as leverage to make you get us to shore, but you agreed before I could”. Matthias took it and since no one he knew was around, he put it back on.

Some people prefer the feeling of a weight lifting off of them, but he preferred the weight the ring added to his finger even if it wasn’t that huge of a change. The woman was still looking at him then he had an idea. If she was Ravkan and you ran there, maybe she knew you! He asked her if he knew a woman fitting your description with a child that had recently came to Ravka. When she said she was usually in and out of the palace, but had gotten a letter from a friend who mentioned a new Grisha with a child he felt conflicted. On one hand, this could’ve been you and this meant you were safe. On the other hand, this meant his daughter was probably being trained to become a soldier for whatever other war Ravka would join. 

She made a sarcastic remark, asking if he had been hunting this woman also and she happened to get away. He spilled his guts then. He told her everything. How you met, how you were always there for him, how you fell in love, your marriage, your child, the incident, him turning on you. All of it. It felt amazing to say out loud to someone else.

“You had an incredible wife but chased her and your child away? Remember when I said there was a brain inside all that muscle? I lied”. He didn’t argue. What was the point? “What would you do if you managed to see her or your child again?”.

He thought about this every night and he still didn’t know. He’d apologize but what then? Let you go? Beg for another chance? What if you had met someone else by now? “I don’t know” he answered honestly “but I’d beg for as long as she wanted me to”.

“You do realize that you were gonna kill more Grisha on that boat right?”

“You would go on trial”

“Your trials are a sham, we’ve been over this. The loneliness won’t end by becoming a Druskelle again. You and I both know it”. Matthias went quiet again as he thought. He hated she was nosey, he hated that everything that came out her mouth was sarcastic or said with an attitude, but more importantly 

He hated she was right.

“I have known one way my entire life. I don’t know how to be anything else. I… I don’t know if I can be better”.

“It’s possible” she said. She stood and moved so she was in his view. “Get on your feet-”. It all happened so quick then. She backed up, then all Matthias heard was the ground crumbling and her screams. He dived down, catching her hands. 

She pleaded for Matthias to pull her up and for a split second, he thought he’d let her fall. 

He refused to turn his back on anyone else though.

He pulled her up and let her catch her breath on the ground. After a few seconds, he stood with his hand outstretched, “Matthias… Helvar”.

She took his hand and let him help her to her feet. “Nina Zenik. Nice to make your acquaintance”. Matthias draped one of the fur coverings he was wearing on her shoulders then they started walking again.

“You saved my life”

“I put you in chains. It was the least I could do”.

“That’s all very true, but I was going to say something before I fell”. Nina grabbed his arm, making him stop and look at her. 

“I’m going to help you find your family”.

A/N: I need to stop deciding to write at 11pm-. Anyway, did anything really happen this part? No. Lowkey this should say part 1.5 but that looks ugly so here we are. I will not procrastinate for another two months, I promise. Also I remembered that Matthias is 18 and ya'll kid is 10, so uhhh let's say the kid is 6 and ya'll are mid twenties. Imma edit the last part too, don't even worry. I think part 3 will be the last part unless I decide it's too long and split it. Taglist: @luvrrish @katie-the-bookworm @favouritefeverdream (Idk if you wanted to be tagged, but you commented so imma do it anyway)

[slitheringghost]

Do you have a Sirius rec list? Please & thank you

with the words going out like cells of a brain by orphan_account (James/Sirius/Remus, 9.8k, M)

Rec: EVERYONE needs to read this fic. It's my favorite Sirius fic of all time and will make you cry and just ache inside. Despite the tag, the romance is nonexistent; it's about Sirius as a haunting and a ghost, as an angry and vicious and hurt and innocent child, with James and Remus trying to save him.

“I hate him,” Sirius admits. “But I left him to die. I’m fucking. Irredeemable. Or something. He was just a kid. You know what they did to me in that house? You know what they did to me? This is fucking nothing. I’d die in that camp bed and I’d be thankful it didn’t hurt as much as it could’ve. Oh, fuck, please don’t kill me.” His eyes, not present, go blank; he starts over.  - Whoever he’s screaming at, they must not answer him. He fists the carpet up in his hands and slams his knees against it hard enough to rattle the floor, too much anger for a small body.  “It HURTS!” he yells, sort of outraged in the way kids get when you don’t apologise for making them cry. “This hurts! You can’t just go, you can’t— I hate you!”  It’s his mother he’s crying to, Remus knows almost implicitly. Sirius has always been far too much like her. And he, too, would leave almost anybody bleeding like this and shut the door in their face. 

riding a freight train's solitary wail by orphan_account (Sirius & James, Sirius & Regulus, 4.3k, T)

Rec: Another heartbreaking must-read fic from the same author as above, about Sirius running away from home. I also recommend this author's whole harry potter what-ifs + speculatives series.

Hurricane Walburga is waiting for him back home, angry enough to tear off the roof. And fuck that, honestly. Sirius darts a hand overtop of the bright orange flame and it leaves little red scuffs over the meaty bit of his palm, streaky like stings or poison or something. Fuck that, and fuck her too, and he hopes she dies, he thinks darkly, kicking a stone against the wall and watching it clatter into the drainpipe. There's a poster for some funk band on the wall and they grin down at him, and Sirius hopes she dies. 

Catch a Glimpse by @ashesandhackles (Sirius & Harry, 428 words, G)

Rec: Heartbreaking mini fic that gets inside Sirius's head so well.

Lily and James stand among the wildflowers, smiling at him, having the worn look of photographs aged by time. He can smell salt in the air, a tangy wind that scatters the flowers, sparkling like embers, underneath their feet. "Did you see where Harry has gone to, Padfoot?" James asks. He was right here. In my arms, Sirius thinks to say. Right here with me. He should be right here.

A Christmas Debacle by @ashesandhackles (Sirius & Andromeda, Andromeda & Bellatrix, 2.1k)

Rec: A great Black Family Drama fic. Loved the family dynamics here!

Sirius could feel the beginnings of a fight on the night before Christmas. He was especially attuned to this - given that he was the cause of many of the fights that the dinner table would have witnessed.

The Truth in Potions by shaggydogstail (Sirius/Remus, Sirius & James & Lily, Sirius & his pet kneazle, 42k)

Rec: Another Sirius-centric fic of all time, and best portrayal of Sirius and Remus suspecting each other during the First War.

It was Harry that Voldemort wanted, Harry that Sirius had stood up in church and vowed to protect. Harry, who laughed and toddled and lived and who everyone fell in love with. How could Remus ever want to hurt him? It was Harry who, if Sirius didn’t stop fucking everything up would never live to see his second birthday. ‘Not Harry,’ gasped Sirius, and it was more like a sob. ‘Spare him, please, don’t hurt Harry. Kill me but don’t hurt him, please.’

This Widening Bed (This Bed Has Seen It All Remix) by shaggydogstail (Sirius/Remus, Sirius & James, Sirius & Peter, Sirius & Lily, Sirius & Harry, 4.4k)

Rec: Sirius Black, his bed, and the people he shared it with. A lovely friendship fic.

They’re breathless with laughter when James arrives to survey the room with mock-disapproval. ‘Just once,’ he says, as he throws himself down between them, ‘I’d like to come home from work and not find my wife and my best friend in bed together.’ ‘Just once you’d like to get here before we finish putting our clothes back on,’ Sirius retorts, and Lily laughs so hard she upsets the punnet of peaches, sending over-ripe fruit tumbling across the bedspread.

Alphard's Favourite by @thistlecatfics (Sirius/Peter, Sirius/Alphard, 4.7k, M)

Rec: An excellent exploration of sexual abuse with a fascinating rarepair.

What had set Sirius off became apparent with the next morning’s Prophet. The story didn’t make the front pages and was buried deep in the paper - an impersonal note in the financial pages and a lurid one in the society section, but enough students read enough of the paper that soon the entire student body had seen the news. Sirius Black was always good gossip. Sirius’s Uncle Alphard had left him gold. A lot of gold. An obscene amount of gold. Though why this made Sirius act out like he was sixteen years old and on the verge of running away all over again was still unclear to Peter. 

all time is unredeemable by slashmarks (Sirius & Bellatrix, Sirius & Narcissa, 5.2k)

Rec: The most heartbreaking and compelling Sirius and Bellatrix backstory - an eight year old Sirius is the one to drive Bellatrix to Voldemort because he thinks Voldemort would save her from their family.

He hoped it wouldn't be breaking his promise. But it wasn't being bad, really. And anyway if it would help Bella it would be worth breaking a promise. Even a promise he had sworn on his magic, even if it really did make him a squib. He didn't want them to kill Bella. He inched carefully in the direction of Lord Voldemort, not enough for Cissy to notice. He pitched his voice just loud enough that he knew the people in that corner would hear when he said, "They're not, though. Bella could do better. That blue light was the isgebind curse, right? That's the heaviest thing they've used and when I watched her teaching you she said she learned it summer after her fourth year."

I also recommend all of @gracelesslady23's fic - read here