#one of his war crimes is running from his marriage

[gilbirda]

Danny is the rightful Ghost King, but since he's not of age he needs a regent who is a) his species, b) his family, and c) an adult. The only adult haftas are Vlad or this Red Hood guy from Gotham that he's never heard of. Since Vlad is not going to happen looks like it's Red Hood, now how to make the guy count as family...

Jason has had a lot of weird shit happen to him over the years but a woman tracking him down as Red Hood to propose a temporary political marriage so he can be regent of a death dimension until her brother is old enough to rule in his own name is a new one for him. Of course he accepted. The only other option was apparently a creepy uncle figure. He's read enough romance to know a forced marriage of a woman to her creepy uncle never ends well. A forced marriage of a woman to a crime lord doesn't usually end much better, but he's ignoring that for now. He's going to woo and romance his spit fire of a wife with respect, spontaneous poetry, his damn good cooking, and by not being a Darcy. And he is going to rock not just this whole regent thing, but also and more importantly the mentoring her brother and his new ward on how to rule this dimension. Competence is always attractive. He runs a tight ship in his crime empire, surely running a dimension can't be that much harder.

He actually already has a plan on how he's going to handle the whole 'The USA declared war on the dimension he's regent of' thing. It's simple really he goes to the next family dinner and causes chaos. The faces everyone will make will be glorious when he drops that he's lord regent of a dimension, the USA is at war with his dimension, and it's such a shame that no one can meet Jason's wife or ward till there is a peace treaty. Then he just needs to sit back and watch the entertainment as his siblings realize he has forever won the position of favorite child by being the first married and first to give Bruce a grandkid. Also you know the chaos of Bruce willing to wage a one man war if necessary so he can meet his grandson. Jason figures it will take at most a month for the government to cave.

And like a cherry on top he's going to get on a medical treatment plan for the pit. Everything is looking great for him.

[flawseer]

#14 - "Fish"

Smaugust 2024

Here is Webs. Oh Websy... Perhaps one of the few dragons who can give Starflight a run for his money in regards to attracting misfortune. Much like Dragon Ball's Yamcha, nothing ever seems to go right for this old guy.

Here are some depressing facts about the life of Webs:

He was a soldier who became a pariah among his people for deserting during an important battle. This brought infamy and stigma to himself and his family by association.

He joined a group of political dissenters to end the war and redeem himself. Under their orders he was made to stage a kidnapping of the royal heir, which enraged the local government and necessitated his immediate escape from the country.

His wife got implicated in the kidnapping, and since she didn't flee with him, she was left to bear the brunt of a tyrannical and vengeful queen's fury. She died a cruel death for his crime.

His then-two-year-old son was left parent-less and grew up shunned by the populace for being his kid.

He can never return home, as he is a wanted man and will be killed on sight.

The organization he ruined his own life for later tried to kill him too.

He nearly got himself and his son killed by trying to appeal for mercy to a queen who he knows not to be particularly merciful.

While escaping from said queen he got poisoned and would have died, if his foster children hadn't bailed him out.

He is currently employed by the daughter of the woman who arranged his wife's death.

Said employer is also his foster daughter, who is dating his biological son, meaning said wife killer will eventually become part of his family via marriage.

It is unclear whether he is on good terms with his son, since they don't share many speaking scenes together and live in separate places.

When he was raising his foster children, he had an opportunity to teach the one who shares his heritage about their ancestral language--aquatic--which is very culturally important to their people. He declined to do this.

What he DID teach her is that the primary purpose of said language is to get hook-ups.

There is only a single moment in the graphic novels that shows him smiling.

Said moment occurs in someone else's imagination.

Everything in his life that he ever had a hand in has turned into abject failure. Everything that did not end in failure did so in spite of his actions, not because of them.

This is so sad. Why did I make this list? I'm sad now.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [25] - Steps

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Some plans require patience.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Attending couples therapy while there was an unofficial war in the city was quite strange but then again, this whole marriage was strange.

“Before we end our session,” Dr. Raynor said. “How are the intimacy journals going?”

You and Bucky exchanged glances before you both turned to her.

“They’re going well,” you said. “Mine is more detailed than Bucky’s, I also created a whole system to make it easier for you to read, would you like to read it now?”

“Not yet,” she said. “I think I’ll wait for you two to feel more comfortable with writing it down for a while. When you said a system…?”

“She gives it stars,” Bucky said helpfully and you nodded.

“I also got like, a color system,” you added. “I categorized it by each color like, how I feel, how I think he feels, how did we communicate before, during and after—”

“I can’t believe we didn’t consider your teacher fantasy,” Bucky muttered and your jaw dropped.

“I do not have a teacher fantasy!”

“Then why are you trying to get an A in therapy?”

“I’m glad you brought it up Bucky,” Dr. Raynor said and you gasped.

“But I don’t have a teacher fantasy!”

“No not that,” Dr Raynor said. “We said you would try a fantasy within the week. Did you?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“How was it?”

“I think I’ll let Bucky describe it,” you said, shooting him a look and his eyes widened.

“Charm!”

“What?” you said. “Think of it as revenge for that teacher student thing. Go on, tell her.”

  You and Bucky had decided on what you would tell her before the session but judging by the look on his face, Bucky had assumed you would be the one who would do the talking about that. You tried to bite down your smirk and cleared your throat, motioning at Dr. Raynor.

“Go on.”

“We uh…” Bucky cleared his throat. “Yeah, we tried a fantasy.”

“Which was?”

“We did the public thing.”

“Public thing,” she repeated and Bucky sat up straighter.

“Had sex in the back alley of the club,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and you nodded, smiling at her.

“The thrill of getting caught,” Dr. Raynor commented. “How was it?”

“Charm?”

“She asked you, not me,” you said, still smiling and Bucky cleared his throat again.

“Yeah it was great.”

“And Y/N?”

“I gave it five stars,” you said. “And used my purple glittery pen while describing it on the journal.”

“Your guess is as good as mine about what the purple glittery pen means,” Bucky told her and you heaved a sigh.

“Afterwards on the other hand,” you said. “Yellow pen, three stars.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky said, running a hand over his face and Dr. Raynor frowned slightly.

“Why is that?”

“I happen to think aftercare is important. Bucky disagrees.”

“I don’t—that’s a lie,” Bucky pointed out. “Charm, to repeat, I cannot give you pillowtalk in the back alley of a club.”

“See?” you motioned at him while keeping your eyes on Dr. Raynor. “Three stars.”

Dr. Raynor smiled at you before checking her watch.

“We’ll continue next week,” she said. “Keep writing on the journals.”

You nodded and stood up from the couch, Bucky doing the same.

“Have a nice day Dr. Raynor,” you told her and walked out of the office with Bucky following you. When you stepped outside, he let out a breath.

“Well that was something,” he said, checking his phone and you grinned.

“See? Told you she’d buy it.”

“Did you have to give me three stars?”

“It wasn’t for your hypothetical performance,” you reminded him. “And you said it yourself you’re not a pillowtalk guy.”

“Yeah that whole thing is bullshit.”

You arched a brow.

“I feel sorry for every girlfriend you’ve ever had,” you said. “Lunch?”

He shot you an apologetic smile.

“I have a meeting,” he said. “What with the attacks lately, can’t be too careful.”

“Ah,” you said and waved a hand in the air. “Sure, yeah. I’ll see you at dinner then?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll drop you off. Home or Becca’s place?”

“Becca is busy, I’ll just walk around for a bit,” you said and he hummed, then motioned at the bodyguards waiting by the car. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Seriously?”

“Yes seriously,” he told you. “Told you, can’t be too careful.”

You groaned. “I hate you so much right now.”

He let out a chuckle, then pressed a kiss on top of your head.

“See you at home princess,” he said and walked to the car to get in. You offered the bodyguards a small smile and started walking, fishing your phone out of your pocket in the meantime.

It rang only twice before Sarah picked up.

“You do realize that you calling me every two hours is a bit of an overkill?” she asked and you grinned.

“I’m worried about you, sue me.”

“Y/N…”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay!” you defended yourself. “I mean, after that night.”

“Everything is fine,” she assured you. “I’m alright. Besides, Sam is already pulling that overprotective bullshit, please don’t start as well.”

“Fine, fine…” you grumbled. “But you are being careful?”

“I will hang up on you.”

“No!” you protested, making her laugh.

“How was therapy?”

“It was alright,” you muttered. “Went as expected. Do you think I have a teacher fantasy?”

Sarah hummed. “Nah, you just have a praise kink.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw dropping. “Sarah!”

“What, you asked!”

“I do not have—”

“Please, it's very obvious,” she said and you let out a breath.

“Unbelievable,” you said. “I was going to ask you out for lunch but…”

“Does the lunch include me telling you what a good girl you’ve been?”

“I will hang up on you right now,” you said, making her laugh.

“Can’t do lunch, I’m busy,” she said. “Things are insane at the hospital lately, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you said. “I guess if no one is meeting me for lunch, I have no choice but spend a bunch of money on bunch of clothes.”

“That’s the spirit,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yep, be careful!” you told her and hung up, then turned to the bodyguards to let them know you would be going shopping but out of the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar black car pulling over. The bodyguards stepped closer to you but you heaved a sigh when your gaze fell on the plate of the car.

“It’s fine, it’s my dad’s men,” you told them as two men stepped out of the car.

“Ma’am.”

“Luke,” you said. “Brian. Long time no see.”

“Your father would like to talk to you,” Luke said and you pulled your brows together.

“My father is aware of the fact that phones exist, no?”

They didn’t reply and you threw your head back, then motioned at your bodyguards.

“Come along then,” you told them, approaching the car. “We’re paying a visit to my dear father.”

                                             *

Of course you knew your father wouldn’t approve of you going to the Wilson territory right after it got attacked but even you had to admit, you hadn’t expected him to send his men to pick you up to take you to the company. As you walked into the familiar skyscraper, you could feel the nervousness spreading over you but you frowned to yourself, rolling your shoulders back.

The days of you doing anything and everything for his approval was behind you.

After taking the elevator, you walked past the waiting room and your father’s assistant smiled at you.

“He’s been expecting you.”

“Lovely,” you said and knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

You opened the door and stepped inside.

“Father,” you said. “Your phone is broken or something?”

“Or something,” he said sternly, giving you a reprimanding look from where he was sitting behind his desk. “Sit down please?”

You bit inside your cheek, then made your way to plop down on the seat across from his desk.

“Nice to see you too,” you muttered and he let out a breath.

“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?”

“You mean other than getting picked up off the street by your people?” you asked. “I was shopping.”

“No, the other night,” he said. “I hear Bucky took you to the Wilson territory after the attack.”

“Bucky didn’t have to take me anywhere considering I’m not a goddamn pet,” you said tersely and he shot you a glare.

“Y/N.”

“And I’m a grown woman, father,” you reminded him. “I don’t have to explain to you where I go or when.”

“You’re my daughter,” he reminded you back. “My daughter who seems to love walking into danger.”

“It wasn’t dangerous.”

“I don’t know what Bucky has shared with you so far about these attacks but—”

“He shared more with me than you did,” you couldn’t help but point out. “HYDRA was the one who attacked the Wilson territory just like other territories.”

He ran a hand over his face.

“Sweetheart,” he said. “The city is very dangerous lately even without you rushing to places under attack. What if something happened on the way there? What if they weren’t done with the attacks? What if there was an ambush?”

“What am I supposed to do?” you asked back. “Stay at home?”

“You’re supposed to stay safe,” he insisted and you crossed your arms, leaning back.

“I am safe.”

“Are you though?” he asked you. “Because that right there was reckless. Your aunt agrees.”

“Of course she does,” you murmured and he drummed his fingertips on the desk.

“I’m worried about you,” he said. “So does she. So does Ian.”

“Ian doesn’t give two fucks about me much like his mother,” you said, making him run a hand over his face.

“Language.”

You licked your lips, not even commenting on it and he let out a breath.

“Do you still carry a gun?”

“Of course I do,” you said. “What am I, an amateur? Ian is the one who is too cocky to carry a gun, everyone knows—did you seriously call me here just so that you could reprimand me?”

“I called you here because I wanted to see you,” he said. “Can you blame me? You’ve been angry at me for a while now, we barely had the chance to talk just the two of us.”

You rolled your eyes, averting your gaze. “I’m not angry.”

“Aren’t you?”

You swallowed the bitterness at the back of your throat.

“You’re the boss of the family,” you forced yourself to say. “Who you pick as your heir is up to you.”

“I’ve never wanted the business to get between us,” he insisted. “You know that. Family is forever, business is just business.”

No.

Not really.

That wasn’t what you heard growing up, at least. Family and business were inseparable, everyone in this line of work knew it.

You pursed your lips together and shrugged your shoulders.

“I know,” you lied through your teeth and a silence fell upon you before you stole a look at him. “And…are you being safe? What with these attacks and everything?”

He smiled at you softly and waved a hand in the air.

“Always am.”

Worry churned your insides as you nibbled on your lip, your eyes darting over his face.

“Do you promise?”

“I promise,” he assured you and took a deep breath. “I’m not dying before you and Bucky give me a grandchild.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you shook your head slightly.

“I thought you said that’d make you look old?”

“I could be a young grandfather,” he pointed out. “I’ll hire a stylist and all that nonsense. Perhaps get a tattoo as well, or dye my hair.”

“Dye your hair to—”

“Sir,” the assistant knocked on the door. “Your one o’clock is here.”

You looked over your shoulder, then pushed yourself off the seat.

“That’s my cue to leave,” you said. “By the way, is auntie back because she had another breakup?”

He rolled his eyes.

“You didn’t hear it from me,” he said. “But apparently they had quite the fallout.”

“Meaning?”

“She burned his car before coming back here.”

“Figures,” you said after a beat. “Well, I gotta get back to shopping. I’ll see you later then?”

“Please do,” he said. “And pick up my calls so that I won’t have to send people after you, hm?”

“I’ll think about it!” you said, and walked out of his office to go to the elevator with the bodyguards following you.

                                                    *

Judging by the personal bodyguards patrolling the hallway, Bucky was already home by the time you returned home. You smiled at Hannah as you made your way through the hallway, then opened the door, peeking your head in.

“Buck?”

“Hey babe!” he called out, no doubt for the bodyguards to hear as well and you bit back a smile, then stepped in and closed the door behind you.

“Hey,” you said, “You’re home early?”

“Yeah, one of the meetings got cancelled,” he said as you stepped into the kitchen, then gasped at the brand name on the takeout paper bag.

“Yay!”

He chuckled and came closer to kiss you on the head, making your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, your favorite.”

“Did you also get the—”

“Chocolate souffle from the same place, yes,” he said. “In the fridge.”

You grinned at him. “Five stars.”

“Yeah keep that in mind,” he said, grinning back before pulling your seat. You let out a laugh and fixed yourself in an exaggerated manner before sitting down and pulling the bag to yourself, then took out the box.

“I really don’t think it’s as good as you claim it is,” Bucky pointed out and you glared at him as you grabbed your fork.

“You take that back about my sweet and sour duck.”

Alpine jumped on the counter and you clicked your tongue.

“Alpine, no it’s bad for you.”

“You know you don’t have to explain that to her every single time we eat, right?” Bucky asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’d be rude,” you said as you put Alpine back on the floor. “So, how was the meeting?”

“It was good,” he said. "Talked to Sam.”

“How is he?”

“Pretty pissed off,” he said. “Can’t blame him.”

“Me neither,” you muttered and he nodded.

“And now we know what shipment your father put Ian in charge of.”

Your head shot up. “What?”

A lazy smile pulled at Bucky’s lips.

“And it’s coming next week,” he said. “The perfect time for him to prove himself, or…”

“Or fuck it up,” you finished his sentence and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Or that.”

You bit inside your cheek, your heart pacing in your throat.

“Bucky,” you said. “It’s going to be dangerous.”

“Mm hm.”

“I mean it,” you insisted. “Are you sure about this?”

He tilted his head, that mischievous light still playing in his blue eyes.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, Charm,” he said. “You know that already.”

You could feel the happy fluttering in your stomach and you let yourself smile back at him, then took a deep breath.

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s show the city who the real heir should be then.”

Chapter 26

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty - Playing Happy Families

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

2.2K words

Series Masterlist

“Please, Carlos, I didn’t kill your father,” said Oscar. He still cowered behind Y/N, still used her to protect him from the wrath of her husband.

Coward, thought Carlos as he stared at him, his expression filled with fury.

Oscar was scared. Of course he was. He was merely a mouse facing down a lion. “What were you doing in my house, then?” Carlos asked, once again attempting to pull his wife closer. But Y/N stayed where she was. She wasn’t budging.

“I was doing work for Mark!”

“What sort of work?” Now, don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t entertaining this idea of Oscar on a mission for Webber. He couldn’t have been, not when everybody (including Webber) was compromised.

Oscar opened and closed his mouth several times. He couldn’t speak, not when he was oh so afraid. “Carlos, let him speak,” Y/N said, finally taking a step closer to her husband. She placed her hand on his chest and Carlos visibly deflated. For the first time in their marriage, Y/N felt like she had power.

When he did, Y/N turned to Oscar. “Go ahead.”

Oscar sucked in a deep breath. “Mark had me out renewing contracts for the weapons trade.”

“Why? Why did he send you in person?”

“Because I needed a distraction.”

“From?” Carlos’s questions came in quick succession.

Y/N looked between the two of them. It was like a game of tennis, the two of going back and forth.

But then Oscar looked straight at Y/N. It was clear, to Carlos, at least. And it infuriated him. He would have stood up, threatened Oscar with his fist, but Y/N still had a hold of him. And he didn’t want to do anything to upset his wife, his love.

“I believe him,” she said as she cupped his cheek. “I really don’t think he’d do anything to hurt us.”

But Carlos couldn’t accept that, not with the footage he had seen. He knew what his wife was saying, that Oscar wouldn’t have broken into their house or threaten them in any way while she was there. That Oscar cared for her too much.

Carlos let out a sigh. “Hand over any weapons you have,” he said and Oscar lifted up his suit jacket, revealing that he had no weapons on him. An uneasy feeling bubbled up in his stomach. In the video he had watched, Carlos had clearly seen a gun in Oscars hands.

“Why did I see you on my security footage?”

Oscar shut his eyes. He knew this was coming, and he knew Carlos wasn’t going to believe anything he had to say, but he said it anyway. “I watched the guys that broke into your house drive away. If I wasn’t on my own, I would have tried to stop them, but I had to get into the house, had to make sure Y/N was okay.” He struggled to look Carlos in the eye. “I saw Sainz on the ground and I had to check he was okay. Because, if someone can get to a head of family, then none of us are safe.”

Suddenly, Carlos fell against the wall. “Carlos!” Y/N gasped as he held onto her, pulling her with him. He looked at his wife, his pretty little wife. The woman that had been by his side through all of it. Not once had she complained as he kept her in this little cabin.

He reached towards her, pushing her hair away from her face. “Mi amor,” he said as he breathed out. “He died trying to protect us.”

Y/N threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. Her head was against his chest as Carlos held her tight, more for himself than her.

It seemed, for just a moment, Carlos had forgotten that Oscar was there with them. Holding the back of Y/N’s head, he stared at the Australian man across from them. “I will tell Webber that I have you. We’ll decide what to do with you after that,” he said and let go of his wife, walking over to the laptop on the desk.

“I’ll make something to eat,” Y/N said and walked into the kitchen. Oscar followed her.

“You can take a shower, if you’d like to,” she offered as she turned on the stove, Oscar sitting at the table behind her.

He shook his head. “Later,” he said and shrugged off his suit jacket. “I… is Carlos going to kill me?”

Without meaning to, Y/N snorted. She let a laugh and shook her head. “No, Osc. I won’t let him,” she said as she filled the pot with pasta. Too much for three people, but Oscar had said he hadn’t eaten in a while. He was bound to be hungry.

“What happened between you and Carlos?” He asked and she turned towards him, confusion written on her face. “Last time I saw you, you hated him.”

Oh, that was right. She had, hadn’t she? She had hated him. God, that felt like so long ago, now. She couldn’t imagine hating him now. “I don’t know,” she answered as she began cutting up chicken and adding it to a pan. “Being trapped alone with someone really changes things,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, Oscar. I don’t love him, but I could. I think I’m falling for him.”

“If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you,” said Oscar, incredibly mature of a twenty-two-year-old.

From the doorway, Carlos cleared his throat. Y/N and Oscar both snapped their attention towards him, waiting for him to speak. “I have informed Webber that you have made it to my safehouse,” he said as he leaned against the doorframe. “We have come to an agreement that if you anything goes wrong, Webber will dispose of your family.”

Oscar gulped. “What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t threaten my wife in any way, and you’ll be fine,” he said and walked back towards the laptop.

“See, you’ll be fine,” said Y/N as she plated everything up.

***

Their already odd situation seemed to be even weirder, now. At first, Carlos wanted to force Oscar to sleep on the floor, treating him like a disease-ridden dog.

But Y/N didn’t allow that. She got whatever cushions and pillows she could and set up a makeshift bed on the kitchen floor for Oscar. She had given him a blanket and made sure he had something to drink before she and Carlos went to bed.

For the first week, Carlos insisted on locking the door through to the kitchen. He still didn’t completely trust Oscar, no matter what Y/N had said and no matter the threat that was looming over him. He kept his gun under his pillow, ready to stride whenever necessary.

But, as time went on, Carlos began trusting him more and more. He listened as Oscar and Y/N sat together in the kitchen, chatting around the kitchen table. He watched how Oscar was with his wife, sweet and caring but not in a way that would have him concerned.

It was like they were playing happy families, the boys getting along for the sake of Y/N.

After two and a half weeks, Carlos had to make a supply run. They’d managed to ration out the food for as long as possible, but they were running low, extremely low.

“Does anybody need anything?” He asked as he walked into the kitchen, looking between the two of them.

Y/N looked at Oscar. She stood from the kitchen table and walked over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes as she whispered something in his ear.

Carlos let out a gasp. He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her, closing his eyes as she leaned into him. “I’ll get some,” she said and kissed her again.

“Just don’t get your hopes up,” Y/N replied as she walked him towards the door of the cabin.

“I won’t,” Carlos said and kissed her again before he left.

After what she had told him, things were beginning to make sense for Carlos. His wife had woken up in the early hours of every morning to throw up. Carlos was concerned, but she was always feeling better as the day went on, telling him that it was just nerves.

It was hard not to get his hopes up, but this was what Carlos had wanted since he was twenty. It was a long time coming; the timing couldn’t have been more right. But it was also terrible, terrible timing.

He knew what he had to do, knew he had to get her back into the safety of their house as quickly as possible. But, was the house really safe anymore?  

The footage of the people that had broken into their home had circulated through the chat forum that had the other heads of families. They’d learnt it was the same group of people that had attacked them. They’d all taken the same thing: paperwork. Details of deals and crimes that they had committed. Their trading routes and what they traded, the money they made. Details of people in other families or people they were going to have killed.

If the authorities, those more powerful than the people the heads of family paid off, got a hold of that paperwork, they were fucked, royally, royally fucked. But Carlos couldn’t think about that right now. He was going to be a dad!

Maybe, he was maybe going to be a dad. He couldn’t let himself get his hopes up.

In the town, Carlos bought what food they would need. He wasn’t concentrating much as he grabbed what they needed. His fathers house still needed to be checked, but Carlos imagined the scene there would have been much the same as his house.

They needed to move, to find somewhere new to live. Somewhere with a lot more security, somewhere nobody would find them. Somewhere they could raise a child.

Carlos grabbed a three boxes of pregnancy tests. He got a proper pillow for Oscar and headed home.

It was strange, being outside of the cabin. Carlos had never felt so naked, so unprotected before. He didn’t feel vulnerable, per say. Not like somebody was watching him as he made his way back to the cabin.

When he walked in, Y/N greeted him immediately, jumping up from the kitchen table to run into his arms. “Did you get it?” She asked and Carlos nodded his head. He reached into the bag and pulled out three boxes of pregnancy tests. He placed them in her arms and watched as she ran into the bathroom.

In just a few minutes, he’d find out whether he was a father or not. Carlos busied himself with putting away the things he had gotten from the shops. He gave Oscar the pillow he had bought for him and waited in the kitchen for Y/N to emerge from the bathroom.

Carlos and Oscar hadn’t talked without Y/N there, not since the night of their wedding. “So,” Carlos started as he looked at the younger man.

“So,” Oscar replied, patting his thighs. The clothes he was wearing belonged to Carlos, but there wasn’t anything else for him to wear.

“When this is all over, would you go back to Norris or Webber?” Carlos asked as he got himself something to drink.

Oscar shrugged his shoulders. “Webber, I guess. He’s my boss, so, unless he sends me somewhere else, I’ll be with him,” he said, now scratching at his legs. He looked at Carlos, properly looking into his eyes. “I really am sorry about your father,” he said, and Carlos swallowed the lump in his throat. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

Nodding his head, Carlos took a sip of his drink. Before he could reply with anything, Y/N ran into the room, at least three pregnancy tests in her hands. She held them up to Carlos, her expression not giving anything away.

Carlos took one of the pregnancy tests from her hands. Two little lines sat on the stick. With a shaking hand, he took another stick, this one also having two little lines. He grabbed a hold of the last one, also having two little lines.

He said nothing as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up. “We’re having a baby!” Y/N cheered as she wrapped her legs around Carlos’s waist. “We’re actually having a baby.” She was quieter this time, resting her forehead against his.

Carlos kissed her. It was long and slow and passionate. He refused to pull away until his lungs were crying out for air. “We’re having a baby,” he echoed as he walked out of the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind him. “We’re actually having a baby.”

He was so fucking happy.

Taglist: @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie @yukheizcigarettes @rewmuslupin @hollie911 @ashy-kit @ririgy @stqrgir1 @zaynzierulez @minkyungseokie @rafaaoli @carolinesainz @ashies-ln4op81aa22 @measimp @mizelophsun11 @eviethetheatrefreak @andydrysdalerogers @formulaal @graciewrote @biancathecool @evans-dejong @sparklyperfectionstranger @venusesworld @goldenharrysworld @cassie0sstuff @gracielukey

[kurokawaia]

❛ NEW START ❜

PostWar!Uchiha Sasuke X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.6k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW;

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) hi again!! im the one who requested for the domestic sasuke fic! so for the domestic fic i was thinking either marriage domestic fic or a post-war fic like hospital visits or catching up?? 💗 - ANON

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

You and Sasuke were kids, perhaps six or seven, fooling around the training grounds that bordered the Uchiha compound. Both of you were panting and panting it out after playing tag for a couple of hours or so, on occasion with Itachi showing up to give you both something to drink. Every match you did, Sasuke won them all. Always faster, always a step in front of you, but you never minded that. It was fun being around him, catching the rare smiles and hearing the carefree laughs. You plopped yourself down in the grass, small chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Sasuke sat beside you, his face flushed from running, but his expression calm as always. The two of you stared up at the sky, watching as the first stars started to appear. "I'm going to be the strongest shinobi," Sasuke told you with confident delicacy, as if he had decided upon it long ago. You nodded, smiling softly. "I'll be strong too… and I'll always be with you." Sasuke looked at you, his dark eyes gleaming with a rare softness. "Always?" he repeated. You nodded again this time more determinate. "Always." Then out of nowhere, you blurted, "When we grow up, we are going to get married." Sasuke blinked, clearly taken aback. "Married?" he repeated as if to wrap his head around such a concept, not truly knowing of the meaning, but he liked the notion, being with you all of the time! "Yeah," you replied though you have absolutely no idea what marriage entails. You just knew that you wanted to remain by his side, whatever it took. "That way, we'll always be together, whatever happens." Sasuke was quiet a moment longer, before giving you the barest of smiles, one that was over so fast if you had blinked, you would have missed it. "Alright," he said low enough so that his voice was barely audible above a whisper. "We're getting married." By that time, you didn't realise it, but that harmless promise promised became something you would cling to for so many years later. The only thing that brought you to believe that Sasuke will come back to the village was that he kept his promise, to be with you for all time, to marry you.

Years went by, and that innocent childhood promise was dulled when Sasuke never came back, but then, the war happened. The war had torn so much apart, but Sasuke did come back.  It had leapt in your chest when you first heard Sasuke had been brought back, injured but alive. Running to the hospital, the hope of seeing him overwhelmed your sense of caution. But getting there, he'd been asleep, unconscious from the toll the battle had taken from his body. You look at his left arm, which was now gone. What an idiot. His face was pale, his dark hair fanned out on the pillow, his arm bandaged heavily. A sight of him like that vulnerable, worn down made your heart ache. You stood at the edge of his bed, unsure what to say, your hand reaching out and stopping just shy of touching him. "I'm here, Sasuke," you whispered, even though you knew he couldn't hear you. "I never stopped waiting for you." There wasn't an answer, just the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. You watched him for what felt like hours, hoping maybe, just maybe, he would wake up and you could tell him everything

He didn't.

The next time you see him, the situation is quite interesting, you had asked Kakashi were Sasuke was as he wasn't in the hospital and you were told he was... elsewhere. Sasuke has been taken into custody by the Interrogation and Torture Division due to his crimes. 

They were dealing with his fate, and though they had villagers both within his support, against him, and everywhere in between, you know it wasn't going to go easy on him. You wished to see him, and with some reluctance, they allowed you to have a small visitation with him. Down the corridors of highly guarded cells, they took you, stopping at the one that housed Sasuke. 

There was that loud creaking of the opening door, and there he sat, hands bound in chakra-suppressing restraints, his head turned away from the door, he could feel it was you, it was obvious even if his eyes and arm were bound. "Sasuke." Your voice was weak, almost quivering, as you took a step closer toward him.  At first, he said nothing, hi head was angled to the ground, not waiting to face you. Then softly, almost to himself inaudibly, he added, "I'm so sorry." It took you a moment to process the words coming from his lips, as Sasuke rarely, if ever, apologized, let alone something huge as what he had pulled. You swallowed, kneeling down in front of him as your hand reached out to touch his despite the restraints. "Sasuke..." you started, your voice on the verge of breaking. "I am," he cut in, his voice now grating but still with that edge of emotion. "I need to apologize. For everything. For leaving, for hurting you, for what I've done… You could read in his posture, the weight of what he was doing and what he had done, he had hurt you so much, that he tried to kill you three times. It wasn't about the war, nor the village, literally everything, every decision he made that further distanced him from the promise you made as children. "I don't care about anything else," you said, steadiness, with the well of tears brimming in your eyes. "I care about you. You came back, Sasuke. That's all that matters." "I don't deserve it," he muttered incoherently. "That's not for you to decide," you said, your hand clenching hard around his. "We were supposed to be together, remember? No matter what. You can't just decide you don't deserve that." Then Sasuke exhaled the softest of sighs, his head bowing slightly. "I'm sorry," he said again, yet it sounded different this time, less for his guilt, more for what he had lost, for what he yet could keep.

You reached up and carefully lifted his chin so he'd look up at you, though his eyes were covered, at least his face was angled towards your own now. "I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, your thumb brushing against his cheek. "We'll figure this out. Together."

Sasukes head fell to your shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered so quietly you would have missed it if there was sound in the room.

when you two are married >.<

The sun peeks through the thin curtains of your shared bedroom. You stir slightly, your body wrapped up in the cocoon of blankets and tangled up in Sasuke. You turn your head slightly, your eyes barely open, to see him beside you. His face is relaxed in sleep, the furrow in his brow smoothed out. Sasuke peaceful, unruffled-in the home you've built together. You'd never imagined living like this, not back then, not when things were still so tenuous. His breathing evens out into a rhythm and you spend several more minutes doing nothing except staring at him. He is forever unreachable, even when he is right beside you, yet here with just the two of you, it's not quite so much the case. With you, Sasuke can be himself. You reach out, your fingertips brushing against his cheek gently, and he stirs. His eyes flicker open, revealing those eyes you've grown so accustomed to-only now, of course, with that new rinnegan you're still getting used to. For a moment, he looks disoriented-like he doesn't remember where he is-but then his gaze reaches yours and mellows out. A giggle almost slipped past your lips at the sigh as he was so cute. "Morning," you whisper, barely heard. He grunts in return-the sort of sound that makes one smile. So like him. After all this time, together, he still manages to remain the same in small ways. Sasuke isn't a morning person, at least, not when words are involved. You prop yourself up on your elbow, the blankets pooling around your waist as you lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips. Are you hungry?" you ask, your fingers brushing through his dark hair, still slightly tousled from sleep. He grunts again, but you can see the ghost of a smile tugging on one corner of his lips. "I'll make something," you say softly, though a part of you wants to stay in bed with him a little while longer. Before you can pull away, Sasuke's fingers wrap around your wrist in a light but firm grasp. "Stay," he mutters, his tone husky with residual sleep. You can't help but smile at the uncharacteristic plea as you settle back into the bed beside him, tucking your body close to his as he pulls you near. His arm wraps around your waist as his forehead presses against yours and the two of you are still, tangled up in one another. The silence between you is comfortable; neither of you has to say anything. Sasuke's hand moves in a languid pattern up and down your back. "I was thinking." you start off softly, breaking the silence, "perhaps we could go visit Naruto and Hinata later. It's been some time since we've seen them." Sasuke is silent for several moments, his body showing only the barest hint of tension at mention of his old comrade. Things have eased some since the war was over, but there is still a distance between them-something faint and lingering and awkward, which neither of them can quite chase away. "Maybe," he says at last, his voice low and small, not unkind. You smile, knowing that's as close to a yes as you're going to get. Progress, you tell yourself silently as you feel a surge of gratitude that Sasuke's at least willing to make the effort. It's more than you could've hoped for a few years ago. His hand resting on your back stops moving, and he shifts slightly, his lips coming into contact with your forehead. "I'll go," he says softly, which takes you a bit by surprise. You lean back just a bit to look up at him, the ghost of a teasing smile tugging at your lips. "Is this Sasuke Uchiha actually agreeing to willingly spend time with Naruto? He rolls his eyes at the teasing, but the barest hint of a smile tugs at his lips. "Don't push it," he mutters, the words devoid of any real bite. You chuckle softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Sasuke doesn't respond to your laugh, but the way his hand tightens around your waist says enough.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list | uchiha m.list

taglist :: @enouche @lovelyandproblematic

@sugu-love @why-are-you-still-awake

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Heyy I saw ur post asking for asks and I absolutely love ur writing + I’ve had such bad Tim brainrot so I was wondering if you could write smt abt Tim just like gradually moving into the readers home and sort of like coparenting the readers cat

Tysm if you chose to write this 🙏🏽🙏🏽

A/N: Yes I can absolutely write this for you nonny! I hope you don’t mind too much but i changed the cat to a dog because I am HORRIBLY allergic to cats and if I have to suffer my readers also must. In actuality tho I just have spent very little time around them over the years and have no clue how to realistically write owning a cat.

Tim Drake x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Reader is described as wearing makeup, canon typical injuries (Tim gets hurt on patrol), reader is described as taking care of Tim’s injuries, reader has a period, reader gets sick from her period, brief description of throwing up, reader has very painful cramps, reader takes typical cramp relieving medication (ibuprofen)

————

You thanked who ever was up there that Tim and your dog got along the first time you introduced them. You hadn’t planned on doing it today, but Tim had arrived early and you weren’t going to make him wait outside simply because your dog might be territorial.

You stand nervously by Tim’s side as he reaches his hand down for your German Shepherd, Ares, to sniff carefully. He takes a few moments after smelling Tim to eye him warily before letting out a dramatic huff and retreating to his spot on the sofa to stare Tim down.

You give Tim a chaste kiss on the cheek in relief before retreating to your bedroom to finish getting ready, “Make yourself at home Tim, I’ll be ready in just a few minutes!” You call over your shoulder as you close your door.

After you had finished your makeup and threw your wallet and a few other necessities into your bag in a rush you exit your room and just before you can call out to Tim to let him know that you’re now ready you see him seated on the opposite side of the couch from Ares.

Well, maybe saying they got along was a bit of a lie. They weren’t truly getting along so much as Ares wasn’t trying to fight Tim, and was even letting him sit near him. A miracle for your reactive dog.

“Tim?” You call out gently, not wanting to break the moment too harshly. At the sound of your voice Ares gets up and runs to your side like you were returning from war. You lean down to scratch in-between his ears as Tim approaches you much more calmly, a gentle smile on his face.

“You look amazing babe.” He mummers softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently, Ares whining in contempt at your attention being stolen.

“You ready to go?” You prompt gently, at Tim’s nod you take his hand and lead him toward the door, Ares right on your heels, whining like you were committing a most horrible crime.

As you exit your apartment and nudge Ares’ snout inside from where he was trying to follow you, you’re taken aback when suddenly Tim reaches forward and gently pats Ares on the top of the head, mumbling a soft “I’ll bring her back soon buddy.”

To your shock Ares doesn’t seem to mind the gesture, and as you finally get your front door closed and move to leave your apartment building your mind keeps drifting back to the sweet interaction with one thought repeatedly popping up in your mind, “Is it to early to be thinking about marriage?”

————

You love Tim, it’s something that you had realized early on in your relationship, but you swear he’s going to send you to an early grave with the amount of stress he puts you through. Almost every night for the last two weeks he’d shown up on your fire escape battered and bruised beyond recognition. The first time he’d done it you had to put Ares in his crate and throw a blanket over it, scared he was going to try and attack Tim with how he was growling and putting his haunches up.

By tonight however he’s grown used to the nightly intrusions, as he contents himself with watching you patch Tim up from his spot on the couch. You’re standing between Tim’s spread legs as he sits on the couch in front of you, running your hands up and down his bare arms carefully, checking for any other injuries he might’ve not told you about but mainly reassuring yourself that he’s here, and he’s okay. This is the worst shape he’s ever come to you in and you have to be sure that you haven’t missed anything.

Seemingly reading your mind he softly mutters, “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands find your hips as you stand between his spread legs. You vaguely realize that he’s gazing up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. “I promise.” He whispers, leaning forward to bury his face in your stomach.

You run your fingers through his hair, trying your best to detangle it from his night of crime fighting. “You know I’ll always be here for you.” You begin, “But you have got to take better care of yourself.” You can’t help but gaze at the canvas of his ribs, pale skin mottled with shades of blue and black. His arms are covered in cuts, a number of which you had to stitch up. You hated how steady your hands were getting with that damned needle.

He lets out an ambiguous groan and tightens his hold on your hips, when he speaks you can barely hear him from where his mouth is pressed against your shirt. “‘M sorry.” He mummers.

You let out a sigh and tip your head back to stare at your ceiling as you tangle your hands in his hair. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You sigh softly. “Just careful.”

After a moment you gently pull him to stand and begin guiding him to your bedroom with a hand on his back, which he lets you do wordlessly. You move to your bed and begin gently pushing him to sit.

He lets you push him, offering no resistance as he turns himself to lean against your pillows, poorly concealing a wince as his stitches pull and scrape against the bed. You watch him with a concerned furrow in your brow. “One second.” You mummer, side-stepping Ares, who had silently followed you into your bedroom.

You move to your dresser and pull out a change of clothes for him. He had started to keep clothes at your apartment after several instances of him spending the night as Red Robin and not having any civvies on hand for the next morning.

Tim lets out a grunt of displeasure when he sees you have one of his t-shorts and a pair of shorts in hand. “What? You don’t like me in just my boxers?” He says with a smirk of his face that has no right being that attractive when you can’t do anything about it.

You let out a groan and throw them on top of your dresser reluctantly as you go to sit next to his reclined body. “I just don’t want you to get cold.” You mummer, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek.

“I’m not that fragile.” He says with a soft laugh, leaning into your touch eagerly.

You lay down next to him and drape your arm across his chest, being careful to avoid his injuries as he gingerly wraps one of his arms around your shoulders. “You’re not doing any work tomorrow night or the next.” You say bluntly as you gaze at his injuries, a firm look on his face.

Tim sighs and gets a vaguely guilty look on his face. “Babe I would if I could but Bruce-“

You sit up just enough to give him a firm glare, one that he knows better than to argue with. “If Bruce gives you shit for not going out and risking your life while seriously injured I’m kicking his fucking ass.” You practically growl, leaning forward slightly to get your point across.

Tim rolls his eyes and lets out a grating sigh as you lay back down against him. “I’d pay money to see you fight Bruce.” He mumbles tiredly.

“If he tries to make you go out tomorrow you’re getting your wish.” You say. The moment is cut-off however when Ares jumps up on your bed and curls over your feet, and much to your shock, Tim’s as well. When you turn to give him a surprised smile he is already dead asleep.

————

You can’t believe yourself, honestly you can’t. How the hell did you manage to get sick right before Tim was supposed to get back from his mission? You let out a soft whine as you finish puking your guts up and double check that the toilet flushes properly. You lean back slightly and attempt to orient yourself. You get your period every week and yet still you haven’t managed to master the art of not letting it beat your ass.

You look over at Ares’ soft whine, he’s seated himself at the bathroom door and is watching you carefully to make sure you’re okay. He only abandons his post at the sound of the window opening, loud barks and whines making his excitement clear to anyone who knows him. You curse yourself quietly as you force yourself to stand and grab your toothbrush from its spot next to Tim’s, quickly plopping a generous amount of toothpaste on it and shoving it in your mouth. You hope Ares distracts Tim long enough for you to attempt to hide the evidence of your monthly illness.

You quicken your movement at the sound of Tim calling your name. Spitting out your toothpaste and quickly rinsing out your mouth at the sound of him approaching. As he peers around the doorframe to gaze at you lift your arms and smother him in a hug which he eagerly returns. “I missed your pretty boy.” You say blearily as you run your hands over his shoulders and down his back, checking him over for injuries.

He lets out a soft, tired laugh against your neck at the nickname, his muscles slowly but surely relaxing at the feeling of you finally with him again. You squeeze him around his middle gently, being mindful of any potential injuries as Ares lets out a whine at being ignored and swats Tim’s armor covered leg with his paw. Tim huffs out a laugh and pulls back from you, crouching down to Ares’ height and letting him lick his face where his domino mask was a moment prior.

You watch the scene affectionately when suddenly you feel a drop in your stomach, you rub your hand over your uterus to try and ignore the feeling but a moment later you’re gripping the sink in pain and letting out a low groan. Tim stands up quickly, his hands finding your shoulders and straightening you up just enough for him to look you over.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” He asks you quickly. You move the hand you were gripping the sink with to wave him off dismissively only to be shown that was a stupid idea when your cramps double in intensity and you nearly fall to the ground in pain, only held up by Tim desperately grabbing you by the armpits and lifting you into a bridal hold.

He moves you so quickly you barely have time to register what’s happening before he is lowering you down on your bed, running a hand over your forehead soothingly to clear any hairs that were sticking due to sweat. “Have you taken any medicine for it yet?” He asks in a soothing mummer.

When you give him a confused glance through the pain he offers you an explanation despite the slight pink now tinting his cheeks. “You were due for your period, and you were brushing your teeth when I arrived which indicates you threw up which is typical for you on the first day of your period. Plus you sent Ares to come greet me instead of doing so yourself.” At the sound of his name Ares invites himself onto your bed, lying over your legs and resting his head over your uterus defensively. You and Tim both instinctively move to scratch in-between his ears.

“So uh-“ Tim clears his throat. “Should I go get you some ibuprofen?” He asks meekly.

You grab his hand a place a reassuring kiss to the back of it. “Would you please baby?” You soothe.

Tim gives you a firm nod and moves to do so, Ares lets out a soft whine when Tim leaves the room but doesn’t move from his spot on you. Tim returns a moment later, a bottle of ibuprofen in one hand and a glass of water in his other. He sets both on your nightstand before carefully counting out your desired amount of ibuprofen, handing it to you, and carefully tipping a mouthful of water into your mouth once you go to swallow them.

“Thank you.” You say as you attempt to relax against your bed. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” Tim quips, smirking at you as you roll your eyes playfully, he leans forward to press a kiss to the center of your forehead. He lingers a moment before pulling back to look at you, at the lack of eye-contact he hesitates a moment before asking, “What’s wrong baby? Are you in pain?”

You shift uncomfortably for a moment, causing Ares to grumble, before muttering out, “I’m sorry you have to take care of me.”

Tim balks at your words and grabs both of your hands securely, shuffling closer from where he was sitting by your reclined form to press your forms together gingerly. “Don’t say that baby,” he soothes “I’ll always take care of you.”

You shake your head softly, trying to suppress the tears you feel coming to your eyes. “Wanted to take care of you.” You mutter, avoiding his concerned look, “I was so excited for you to get back.”

Tim holds your face and gently wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “You always take care of me baby, it’s the least I can do to take care of you once in a while.” He all but whispers, pressing your foreheads together.

Suddenly Ares is also attempting to press his face against yours, nosing his way in front of Tim’s and licking your face eagerly, causing you to giggle and Tim to let out an offended sound at his spot being stolen.

“See?” Tim says after a moment of Ares’ enthused licking. “Even Ares wants to take care of you.”

You shake your head with a soft sigh as Ares finally calms down, moving to protect your feet and let Tim take over soothing you once more. “My boys.” You mutter gently, giving Tim an affectionate look.

“All yours.” Tim confirms, moving forward to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Always.”

[revoevokukil]

TW3 Story Leaks

It's Saturday, and I bring you some cold, hard rumour.

It seems somebody on reddit is working through the leaks of The Witcher 3, claiming approximately 300k of lines relating to the previous story iterations also leaked in 2023. Much of what they are claiming matches with the leaked files from 2014, which I have also worked through. There is completely new information too, though, and they plan on publishing their work-through early 2025.

So far, this is the information I've gathered from their posts:

Iorveth's daughter was Vernossiel. Her quest had her involved with a cult of the Bloody Mother; spores from a particular "flower" affected her thinking so she got brainwahsed into being sacrificed in a ritual killing in order to rise as the Bloody Mother herself.

Cerys was fake-Ciri.

The Baron (or Baron’s men?) was originally a rapist.

The Big 4 was originally Big 5, including Isengrim. Isengrim and Iorveth had houses in Novigrad.

Vincent Meis' model existed.

There was a quest with “thralls” (most likely Following the Thread involving Jad Karadin and the Faroe island) where Geralt would temporarily get married to a chieftain’s daughter.

We’d lock Yennefer in dimeritium handcuffs at one point to prevent her from interfering with the King’s Gambit questline.

Avallac’h provided Geralt with the means to warg as a rat in order to eavesdrop on the meeting of the Big 5 (including Isengrim) on Dijkstra’s ship. (Iorveth was planning on blowing the ship up.)

The Catriona Plague questline. It had a Nilfgaardian general Martin running a krankenhaus, where was infecting his countrymen with the plague and stealing their valuables. He made deals with Gaunter O’Dimm (his involvement in HOS is as a leftover from here) to get a cure for the Catriona, then with Gaunter’s archnemesis to get to keep the cure. Geralt had to figure it all out as Catriona was becoming more and more rampant and the faction with the cure would have huge leverage in how the war questline would resolve. Geralt would get the chance to hand the cure back to Gaunter, to Radovid, or Emhyr.

Iorveth got infected with Catriona, then infected Thaler to improve his morale on getting a cure (Thaler promised Iorveth a cure for assassinating Emhyr or some such.)

The war quest lines were somehow related to the dreamer Corinne Tilly who was a Nilfgaardian spy.

Voorhis laid siege to Crow’s Perch because Temerian rebels took it over.

The Sabbath originally had slave markets, an orgy meadow, and ritual suicides. Changed after 2014.

There was an option to assassinate Radovid after taking out Roche, so Dijkstra's rule was always an option.

Roche originally preferred fighting for Temeria no matter what. Reason of State had Roche vs Thaler and Dijkstra.

Radovid was more like his W2 self. Emhyr "more like Stalin."

Radovid took over the Temple Isle.

Emhyr was supposed to appear in the army camp center.

If Emhyr lost, Voorhis would overthrow him.

All the content showcasing Nilfgaardian war crimes was cut: a Nilfgaardian general was spreading the Catriona plague, robbing his dying countrymen; Voorhis' cruelty during the siege of the Crow's Perch, Nilfgaardians' direct attack on Kaer Trolde.

Crach died during the battle for Undvik and Voorhis negotiated over his body; the corpse was returned and Nilfgaard respect local burial traditions.

Melusine quest line had more content related to blood shrines.

There was an opportunity to try and convince Caranthir to betray Eredin, after which he'd get replaced by some elven lady (Isilira?). (Conflicted about this, as in 2013 leaks it seemed Caranthir knocks Avallac’h out on Naglfar when Geralt and him try to infiltrate it.)(Isilira is the lady you meet in Avallac’h’s lab in the released version.)

There was a sequence in White Orchard in the Empress ending where Voorhis had announced he'd arrive and propose to Ciri in few days, but Ciri lost Emhyr's signet ring to prove his approval of the marriage. Then some kind of gamble ensued under the influence of a Korred, and Ciri decided if she'd win she'd marry and if not she'd run away (not sure if this shouldn't it be the other way around).

Gameplay-wise:

There was a 'vital spot' system, where you gained points by performing various actions and could then use those points to perform combat moves that would either weaken of 1-shot an enemy.

Manticores were cut.

Players could buy boats and horses; rowboat for rivers and lakes.

Wind tunnels and proper storms in which a boat could tilt over.

Water combat was cut.

Focus mode in combat was cut.

[leavemetrappedinacage]

EVERYTHING WAS A MISTAKE — i. cheater.

⤷ summary: Leaving home isn't hard, coming back to home is, you're determined to find your sister, but Gojo has many things to say to you.

⤷ pairing: yandere!satoru gojo x fem!vampire!reader.

⤷ warnings: angst, abuse (physical assault), a bit of gore, blood, abusive behavior, it's implied that Gojo has assaulted reader other times in the past, gaslighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of death, psychological violence (Gojo is manipulating the reader into thinking that everything is her fault), spoilers (JJK0).

⤷ more information about story: here.

⤷ notes: this chapter is a bit hard to read (it was hard to write too), if you are in an abusive relationship or have just come out of one reading it may cause triggers, so please stay safe. 🤍 (I forgot to post the chapter yesterday, sorry. 😭)

⤷ word count: 2867.

Human lives are bubbles floating on the surface of the water, fleeting, but the life of a vampire is perennial, like the Pinus longaeva, which will last for millennia if it is not uprooted. You let go of Satoru's clothes, to whom you were clinging tightly until recently. The words he said to you seem like a bad joke, but the part of you that knows him knows that he wouldn't lie about such a serious matter. A million possibilities run through your head and none of them seem right. Your older sister is the current head of the clan, she succeeded your mother after her death, she is also married to Satoru's older brother and is therefore part of the Gojo clan by marriage, no one in their right mind would harm her, unless they wanted to provoke a war that they would never win.

In the past, after you broke one of the clan's three taboos, your sister came to understand your side of the story, and although you confessed your sins out of your own mouth without showing remorse, she knew you well enough to know that you would never commit a crime of this proportion unless it was truly necessary, you were hot-headed, not a serial killer. However, there was a limit to her influence, your sister had to withdraw from the investigation not long after, the other investigators claimed there was a conflict of interest and personal motivations on her part because you belong to the same lineage, although you knew very well why they wouldn't allow her to investigate, you comforted her by saying it was all a mistake.

You accepted the death sentence so that her and her family's reputation wouldn't be tarnished by her crimes, but when you found out what they would do with your corpse after your death, you had no choice but to run away. You escaped from prison and left everything behind, so you would never see your family again and would forever be an outcast, but you knew that Gabi, your beloved sister, still had hope.

You fall to the ground on your knees, your heart breaks into a million pieces that you may never be able to put back together, the tears flow endlessly, but you don't make a sound. Your sister once told you: "One day, I will die, and you will be the last member of our family. And when that day comes, you'll miss me so bad when I'm gone, Y/N!" She said it laughing, you didn't care because she was the head of the clan, and just like your mother, she would die of old age with three children or more, but now those words blowing in the wind have taken on a new meaning, as if she knew deep down that it would happen. You put your hand on your chest and lean forward until your face touches the carpet, you open your mouth to scream, there's no strength left in you to do so, only a bitter taste of defeat in your mouth.

Satoru gets down on his knees in front of you and hugs you, you don't pull back because it's the only comfort you can have right now, you cling to him like you're clinging to your last thread of hope, you allow yourself to cry because it's the only thing you can do right now. He's never seen you react like this, you never cry, you didn't shed a single tear at your own mother's funeral, you were like a beacon in the middle of a stormy night, strong and resilient, no one has ever been able to shake you, so seeing you so vulnerable makes him feel he needs to protect you. He lifts your face with both hands and wipes the snot off with the sleeve of his shirt, you're a wreck, but you muster the strength to get up. Now with a clear head, you know you have to solve this problem, no matter what.

"I'm going to kill them all." You mutter, the glow you're carrying fades and gives way to a gloomy aura, you turn away from Satoru, you're planning how to kill these people, there are too many of them and only one of you, but you've been in a similar situation before, so you think it won't be a big problem. "Thanks for warning me, but I don't want you to meddle this time, it's a matter of fa-"

Satoru suddenly interrupts you. You don't have time to associate what happened right away, it was so fast, only then do you realize that he's hit you, you touch your cheek and it's hot and tingling, your ear is ringing as if a bell is inside your head, and it feels like one of your eyes has popped out of your skull because you're not seeing well. You're so bewildered that he has to hold you so that you don't fall to the ground again.

"I don't know what the hell you're thinking, but stop. Now." He gently grabs your face and presses down on your right eye with his thumb in order to put it back in place, and you stand there as if you were a doll being carefully repaired. "You're a hothead, aren't you? God! Are you thinking of killing someone else? I hope not, I don't want to have to do it again." He scolds you, he doesn't like the idea of having to hit you, but you always cross the line, it's so annoying. "If you make a single slip-up, everyone's efforts will be for nothing, your sister's life is at stake and we still don't know the intentions behind the kidnapping, so. Stop. Acting. Impulsively." He spoke slowly and nodded, waiting for you to agree. "Answer me."

"But-"

"Answer." Somehow his aura seemed to pressure you, it's always like this, he says he doesn't want to hit you, but if you keep doing things the way you want, he'll hit you again and again until you stop, you shrug and he sighs. "Y/N... answer me, I won't do it again, so be a good girl and say you won't do anything."

"I won't act on impulse, I promise."

"Yes, yes. I knew you were still a good girl." His tone of voice has changed, the pressure on his shoulders is also gone, he pushes back a lock of hair and kisses your forehead, it's almost as if he's someone else. "I'd love to spend some time with you here, but we have to go now."

"Now?" You hear a pop, Gloria and the children are still waiting for you, you can't leave without saying goodbye, you look around the room for the bread basket and find it completely ruined, you let out a breath of air through your nose. "I couldn't go and see any of you anyway."

"Who are you talking about?" Satoru grabs you from behind and buries his face in your neck, you're tense and stiff, it would be bad if he found out about Gloria, he's not the kind of person who tolerates jealousy. But fortunately he doesn't seem to know, he sees the basket of bread on the floor and remembers the children you greeted earlier. "I didn't know you liked children so much."

"Oh, yes, of course?! So you were stalking me at that time too?" He replies with a 'mhmm', you roll your eyes. "You're awful." You let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "Oh, I never had a chance, did I?"

"I'm glad you know your place." He's so overbearing and arrogant, yet if you had only half the power he has, you'd act like it too. "I'll help the children later if you behave yourself on the journey back."

"Really?" Your shoulders relax, you lean in to look at him, he nods in agreement and you're relieved, but everything has a price...

"But you'll owe me one." He whispers unassumingly. "Two, actually." He holds up two fingers, you choke. "Or have you forgotten that I'm going to have to take you in secret?"

"I thought you were going to give me up! I even thought I would need Suguru's help."

"Of course not!" He shouts, irritated, an icy chill shakes your body, you lower your head and he continues shouting. "What kind of monster do you think I am? I would never hurt you, Y/N. I... I... forget it." He pushes you away and massages his temples, then stops abruptly and runs his hand over his face as if he's just remembered something. "Oh, one more thing, Suguru is dead."

"WHAT?"

"I killed Suguru, he committed some crimes, but nothing compares to the fact that he hid you from me." Satoru lets out an infamous chuckle, you can't believe what he's just told you, but given the circumstances, you know he's not lying, the only person who knew your whereabouts was Suguru. "You remember when you abandoned me, don't you? Didn't you think about me? How I might feel?"

"You weren't the only one I left behind, and-" You start to speak, but he signals you to shut up and stop making excuses he doesn't want to hear.

"But as far as I know you haven't abandoned Suguru, have you?" You feel the air get heavy and Satoru's shadow covers you, he seems much bigger than you or you're feeling too small, you don't know, you go back and grope the tree, there's nowhere to run, you close your eyes and wait, maybe for the next slap or something worse. "He told me everything before he died... so we have a lot to talk about, Y/N."

Mistrust is like a deadly poison that eats away at you from the inside, it makes love grow cold, but it also gives birth to a weed called resentment. There's no fixing something that's been broken, when you put the pieces back together, the cracks and scars of the breakage will be there forever, it will break again if you fill it with water. There is no way to mend the heart of someone who has already been betrayed or abandoned.

Satoru look at you with a fake smile, the corners of his mouth are twitching, a bad sign, there's no escape for a change, there's only the two of you on this deserted house, even if there was someone here no one would come to save you, there's no place you can use to hide, but there's no way and no reason to hide when the Six Eyes are looking for you. You open your mouth, but give and accept that there is no other option but to stay quiet, he seems satisfied with your decision, the smile on his face widens.

"Satoru..."

"You cheated on me." He repeats with tears in his eyes.

"WAIT, WHAT? I never cheated on you." You choke, you don't know if he's making it up or Suguru said something that made him get it all wrong. "I don't think this is the time or the moment to talk about it."

"But I do." He retorts. "You disappeared for ten years, Y/N. DAMNED. TEN. YEARS!" He puts a lot of emphasis on that. "You didn't try to contact me during that time, you didn't even make an effort to make me try to understand your side, but..." He paused dramatically. "There was enough space for Suguru to continue in your life. Do you know how painful it was to find out from him that you'd been in contact and seeing each other for all those years?" He frowns and laughs like a maniac. "What about me, Y/N? I was alone in the dark for ten years. I had no news of you, I didn't know where you were, how you were or if you were even alive, but he knew because he told me before he died." He scratches the back of his neck and bites his lower lip. "You didn't even bother to break up with me."

"You turned your back on me first! You spent weeks ignoring me before everything happened and-"

"Because YOU were hiding things from ME!" He shouts and points at you accusingly. "I never knew your side because you didn't trust me enough to open up to me, your own boyfriend." He uses both hands to point at himself, the veins in his neck and forehead bulging, he's furious. "But Suguru knew, because you told him everything, didn't you? You even asked for help to escape."

You choke, you don't know if Suguru revealed all the details to him, but your mind goes blank like a blank canvas for lack of arguments, you can't retort, because what he's saying is the truth, at no point did you consider the possibility of trying to contact him, you didn't explain why you killed all those people in the first place, you just accepted the fact that he hated you and decided to walk away without saying a word. Who told you he hated you? Did he really think you were a monster? The fine line between what was true and what wasn't was so thin that you couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"I forgave you for killing those people and for running away, but this..." He points at you and for a portrait of you and Suguru on the bedside table, then makes a cutting sign with his hands, shaking his head frantically. "I'll never forgive that. Never."

"I'm sorry."

"It's too late to say you're sorry." Satoru reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black blindfold. "You never really loved me, did you? You loved him, I was just... an idiot. That's the truth. I was just a substitute for him."

You see the tears streaming down his face, he brushes them away with the back of his hand as if he doesn't want you to see him cry, you feel your stomach lurch, you don't have the courage to approach him, it's bad enough to know that everything that happened in the past was a big misunderstanding, to be abandoned and in a way betrayed, you can't measure his pain. And although you have your share of the blame for his suffering, he has to understand that you were on the run, many came after you to kill you, familiar faces, you have a lot of traumas to carry, and you don't want or need to carry the weight of this ill-fated relationship, but you can't help it.

"I expected a little loyalty from you. But you're one of them." Satoru refers to the fame of vampires and their multiple partners, but you're not like the others, you really only loved him, but he's so blinded by hatred that he can't see. You love him so much that you trusted him with your life. "You... you cheating bitch, I did everything for you, I... I even tried to forgive you for it, but then you started thinking about going after him? HAHAHA, I'm really stupid."

"I'm not a cheater. I've NEVER cheated on you." A lump forms in your throat, you can barely defend yourself against these unfounded accusations, based on jealousy and paranoia, you sniffle and wipe away tears that wanted to escape from your eyes. "I swear, I never did that, I-" 'love you' You continue the sentence mentally.

You endured everything in silence for fear of sharing the burden with someone else, because you are afraid to lose everyone, but you also believe that if you had been honest from the beginning, he would have understood you, and maybe your sister wouldn't have had to go through what you're going through now, but now it's too late to be honest.

"You just used me and are still using me for your own gain, you just want to ensure your sister's safety and leave. Like everyone else... I'm just a tool for you."

"That's not true, stop it."

The truth hurts, and he's telling the truth, from the beginning you thought of him as a tool to find your sister, but not everything is true, you also want to spend time with him, since finding him again has ignited something inside you, but you don't have the strength to go against him. You take a step forward and he moves away, you reach out to touch him and he rejects you, it's so painful that you'd rather he hit you, you grab his hand and he's so cold, so distant, as if an abyss were separating you. You open your mouth to beg for forgiveness once again, but you feel a stinging pain in your head and heart, a buzzing in your ears makes you dizzy and makes you scream hysterically, your nose and ears began to bleed non-stop.

"Y/N?" Satoru's voice becomes distant and his image blurs. "Y/N?! Are you all right?"

"I... I... I feel... so... sorry... I... will... tell you... everything..." Your vision suddenly darkens.

The last thing you hear is Satoru's voice shouting your name.

[enaelyork]

Can we get a Cooper Howard x female reader fic where reader is in an abusive marriage and he helps her leave (by any means necessary)? Need him to get violent and defensive over me -swoon- and of course they end up together?

Thank you in advance!!

Hi my dear !

That's a good idea, i try to make something =) Let's go.

Pre-war/ Divorced Cooper/ Cooper x f!reader.

Warning : Abusive mariage/ violences/ injuries.

Ask for Cooper Howard is OPEN

- I'm divorced.

What luck.

She looked around, as if arguing with him was a crime punishable by death. There was nothing wrong with that, though: Cooper had been her friend throughout her adolescence and they had lost touch until this filming. What a strange coincidence that fate decided to put him on her path again.

Him, so charming and luminous while she had decided to join the darkness.

- I don't know if you can call that luck.

She jumps. Damn, had she said those words out loud? Red comes to her face as she completely drinks her glass of champagne, pouring out apologies.

- It's not. No. I didn't mean such a thing. Really, I'm sorry. And don't think I'm unhappy with my husband, it's just that.

- You are here.

His voice made his blood run cold. A bit like every time she emerged behind his back. He was a shadow always lurking behind her, even when she couldn't see him. A shadow that terrified her. Had he seen it? Had he seen the mask of terror settle on her face? Had he noticed everything she tried to hide behind her long-sleeved dress in the middle of summer? He understood, by discovering this man, what was going on in his life.

- Oh, you're good, Travis. She said, trying to hide the hint of panic that distorted her voice. I guess you remember Cooper. We went to high school together and I now work with him on set.

His silence was worse than a sentence. He looked at Cooper with an undisguised desire to drag you away from him. But as usual, Travis, your perfect little husband, knew how to play his role perfectly in public.

- Y/N told me so much about you. I've seen your films, you know? I find you brilliant.

He had grabbed her hand and she had guessed the grimace that her husband was trying to hide. Cooper, for his part, had a glint in his eyes that she didn't know existed, a glint resembling anger. - Likewise, Travis. She is full of praise for you. It was totally false.

He had just discovered her husband's identity and the only thing he could have seen during the early stages of filming was how important it was for her to finish on time. How important it was that we didn't see her smiling in any public photos, or even her own shadow. How important it was that she was invisible.

- I think Y/N and I are going home, right, darling? She nodded automatically: it was the only thing she was allowed to do when he gave her an order and her hand gripped his arm so tightly that a grimace of pain tied her mouth.

- We hadn't finished our discussion.

No one around them suspected what was going on, there, in the middle of the large gala hall in which the producer had decided to give a reception. It was going to turn into a fiasco, soon, if they continued to stare at each other like two animals ready to devour each other.

- It's finished. Darling. We're going back.

She wanted to protest. Telling him that she wanted to stay with Cooper and continue to be herself. Simply live. But she didn't have the strength, at no time had she had the courage to say no, to take her things and leave. Which made her, in his eyes, more worthless than she had ever been. Her eyes met Cooper's, and she hoped she wasn't too pathetic when her husband's impulse pulled her away from him. But his gaze, the one that looked at her at that precise moment, will probably haunt her for the rest of her life.

What a terrible irony.

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

They never spoke about it again.

Cooper had tried, between two scenes, at every pause, to discuss the incident with her, but Y/N kept dodging the question. She knew that if she were to confess the horror to him, she would never be strong again. And then it was Cooper. How would he view her if he learned how ruined her life was? How would he look at her, compassion or, worse, pity?

No, that was out of the question. You were hitting on him, you little whore. The violence of his words and gestures still resonated within her several weeks before.

The suffering was so firmly anchored in her that she had done everything possible to avoid being found wanting: walking along the walls of the film set like a ghost, she did not linger after the day and returned directly to the House. But that wasn't enough anymore.

Travis became more demanding of her every day, more possessive too, going so far as to control his own appearance.

- I wish you would resign. He dropped this bombshell over breakfast, a few months after filming began.

- Sorry ?

Without looking up from his newspaper, his feet resting on the table and ignoring the pancakes she had just prepared for him, he continued his cruel sentence.

- You heard what I just said. I was nice to you by letting you work for my friend Jim, but you screwed it up again. You are not capable of doing what I ask you. You're not capable of anything, in fact.

- You can't ask me that, Travis, please. I like my job. I'm sorry, just tell me what to do.

Without her expecting it, the newspaper flew towards her, slapping her face violently. A cry of surprise, immediately muffled by the violence with which he grabbed her arm.

- You see, that’s the problem with you. You are so stupid that you don't even understand when you exceed the limits. If you had listened to my demands from the start you wouldn't be here. So tonight, you better quit that job. Did you understand ?

She had nodded, hoping that this way he would finally let go, that her blood would be able to circulate in her arm again. But he threw it back with such violence that her body hit the kitchen shelf, knocking down a few cups which shattered on the floor.

- And put it away! Always making a mess.

It wasn't long after he left that tears flooded her eyes.

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

Nothing had gone as planned that day.

After tidying up the kitchen, cleaning the sores that dotted her skin, Y/N had arrived on set late. A delay that had not escaped Cooper and his suspicious gaze. He shouldn't have known anything. However, while she was trying to flee, he followed her in the corridor leading to her dressing room, trying to call her in vain.

Don't turn around. Don't turn around.

But when he blocked the door to her den, preventing her from taking refuge there, Cooper not only discovered her distress. He saw her eyes red with tears, her hands bruised and, worst of all, fear flooding her irises.

- It's him ?

Y/n's lips began to tremble like never before, not even her legs were still able to keep her upright. So, without her having time to understand what was happening to her, her body abandoned her. Her mind tried to live in denial but nothing else in her could reject the evidence.

It was destroyed. Yet her legs never touched the ground, her body did not shrivel against the wall. Because the warmth of Cooper's arms enveloped her in a feeling she hadn't known in a long time.

Sweetness.

So she forgot everything. The fear, anguish and guilt she felt at being in such a situation. She forgot the pain that ached her arm and shoulders and, instinctively, she hugged him, hoping that this way he would keep her alive.

- You have to leave, Y/N.

Filming had been suspended today and Jim had believed Cooper's lies about feeling unwell. However, she did not return home, remaining locked in this lodge as in a bastion.

Leave ? The idea had already crossed his mind. It would have been so simple if she didn't depend on Travis for a whole bunch of things. Being an actress was not an easy job and the income was irregular at such a stage of her career. So she rejected the idea, shaking her head vehemently.

-I can not do that.

- Of course yes. You can. Just gather your things and go.

- How ? Eh ? Do you think he won't stop me? Really, it's impossible.

Cooper had no intention of stopping there. She knew it. But what could he understand about her life? He who had a happy marriage and whose divorce had gone smoothly? She knew that he was on good terms with his ex-wife for the well-being of his daughter, that this divorce had gone smoothly because they had realized that they no longer aspired to same thing. Barb had been an exemplary wife, their marriage had been based on mutual trust and they had separated on good terms.

So what could he understand about her life? Why did he seem so heavily affected by his situation?

-I will help you.

She raised her head. Had she really heard what he had just suggested to her? A nervous laugh escaped her lips before she stared at his determined expression. Was he serious?

-You go pack your bags and I'll come pick you up.

- To go where ? I have nowhere to go, Coop! My friends don't talk to me anymore and you saw the way he reacted when we...

Her words died in her mouth, realizing that she had called him by his nickname for the first time and that she hadn't completely rejected the idea.

- I can talk to Barb about it. She has friends in the region who will certainly be delighted to host you. He paused, visibly hesitant to finish his sentence.

-There is room at my house.

- At your house ?

There was nothing in her stomach but butterflies trying to escape. Had he really just asked her to live with him? It took her breath away, so much so that she had to blink several times to make sure she was awake.

- You would have your privacy, obviously. But it’s a base not too far from work until you can find a place of your own.

She had grabbed his hands without realizing it, as if to hold on to a rampart before falling into the void. Cooper had just offered to live with him, and the idea brought a little warmth to her completely bruised heart.

- He's not going to like this idea at all.

- But it's the only option for you to get out of this, Y/N. I don't know how you feel about this man, but for your own well-being you need to leave.

She didn't know it. What she did know, however, was the effect Cooper had on her life. It wasn't just savior syndrome. Since seeing him again on that set, something inside her had cracked, a shell that she had tried to erect to prevent herself from loving anyone, including herself.

- It's OK. She finally gave in.

The smile Cooper gave her then would stay in her mind for a long time.

- Should I contact Barb?

- No. It's with you that I want to live.

Realizing too late the fervor of her words, she put her hands over her mouth to prevent her from saying something even worse.

- If you agree, of course...I...I don't want to impose myself. Oh, god, I'm so sorry.

- You no longer have to apologize for being yourself, Y/N. It's all over now.

His hands were still in hers and Y/N wondered why he didn’t take them out as soon as he had the chance. Sitting face to face, they looked at each other in a strange silence, charged with a gentle and soothing tension. A deep relief came over her at that precise moment.

She was going to leave. Leave with Cooper. And she could no longer hold back her tears.

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

- Did you do what I asked you?

- Of course.

No.

She hadn't done any of that. She had neither resigned nor decided to cut ties with anyone. Instead, she came home in the afternoon to pack a suitcase and wait. Wait for the right moment. Travis had a charity event that night. A gala to which he had not invited her. Pretending that she had no place there. So much the better.

This was the perfect opportunity to put the plan into action. This evening, Travis showed no attention towards her. Yet that was what he did when he had obtained satisfaction: a tender gesture, a chaste kiss on her cheek.

He just brushed his fingertips against her shoulder, a movement that sent a jolt of terror through her.

-Don't wait for me to eat, I'll be back very late.

And silence returned almost immediately, freeing his heart from the vice that was compressing it. It didn't take long for her to contact Cooper, take down the suitcase she had hidden in the attic and come back down to the forecourt.

When she finally saw the car appear, a wind of relief chased away the fear that still held her back.

Then she froze.

Terrorized.

It wasn't Cooper's car.

He had come back. He had forgotten something and came back to get it.

- What are you doing here ? His voice was laced with a rage she had never seen before. A destructive, petrifying rage.

- I…Travis…

- What are you doing here with this damn suitcase?

The kick sent the latter flying to the other side of the sidewalk. Usually, Travis didn't show any aggression towards her in public, but this time, discovering her outside with a suitcase in her hand had got the better of his legendary self-control.

-Did you want to leave? Did you want to do this dirty trick to me, little whore?

She was screaming. She hoped that someone would come out of these nice little tidy houses to get her out of there. But nothing. Not a single neighbor wanted to get involved in this carnage and she was going to pay dearly for it.

He pushed her violently, causing her to fall onto the lawn in their garden. The pain pierced her back so violently that it took her breath away, but when his hand grabbed her hair, she screamed so loudly that her voice hoarse.

- Shut your mouth ! Shut your fucking mouth! Piece of…

Travis didn't have time to finish his sentence. Something had stopped him.

A violent shock that had just hit his jaw, forcing him to release his grip on her hair.

-Cooper!

- Get in the car. Hurry up.

She wanted to cry, to stand there and watch Travis wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth. But the fear that still animated her gave her the impetus to flee without looking at what was happening before her eyes.

Cooper had arrived and he had just hit Travis with such force that he could barely keep his balance.

- I'm going to find you, bitch! he exclaimed towards her. But Cooper's hand grabbed him so tightly by the collar that he couldn't take another step.

- You're not going to do anything at all, because if you try to approach her again, I can't guarantee you that I'll settle for a punch.

He violently pushed Travis away, letting him fall to the ground before turning around. At that moment, Y/N became aware of her husband's weakness. He had been merciless with her because she was fragile, that was the only reason he had fun with her.

And it was over.

[alanagrey]

Dark Bucky Barnes One Shots

ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪs ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪsᴛᴜʀʙɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs.

��� indicates my personal favourites, but all the below fics are absolutely fantastic.

◌ One Shots

Two Graves, by @highonmarvel

→ [no description]

Cut, by @boxofbonesfic ✸

→ [You haven’t been having the best luck on dating apps, but you’re willing to try again]

disturbed, by @twjournals

→ [leaving the woods did nothing to keep the darkness from following you home]

Concrete Jungle Rapunzel, by @imanuglywombat

→ [You spend your days locked in a gilded cage, high above the concrete jungle, waiting for Bucky to return]

Doctor, Doctor, by @honeyhan-123

→ [With a bullet in his arm, Bucky seeks medical attention and a certain surgeon catches his eye]

What You Can’t See, by @honeyhan-123

→ [Bucky doesn’t understand how you could think were were just a one night stand]

R U Mine?, by @cryptidcasanova

→ [You made the mistake of falling for the mysterious stranger you met in New York. Unfortunately for you, you never asked about his line of work]

Goosebumps, @cherienymphe

→ [Living with your roommate was a dream come true…until she met Bucky]

Ten Steps, by @darkthallas

→ [A home intrusion by The Winter Soldier that doesn’t end so well for you]

After Party, by @xxindiglow

→ [Bucky doesn't take kindly to rejection]

Til Death Do Us Part, by @cherienymphe ✸

→ [after your arranged marriage has served its purpose, you bring up the inevitable topic of divorce. It is only then do you realize that you and your husband might not be on the same page]

swimming pools, by @sgt-seabass

→ [Bucky pays you back for your time as his contact by teaching you to swim]

You Can Cry, @highonmarvel ✸

→ [Biker!Bucky takes a liking to a sensitive girl]

You Know Better, Don’t You?, @xxindiglow

→ [Bucky doesn't like being told to move on. Ex-boyfriends are a pain in the ass]

blackout, by @our-destiny

→ [no description] [He was always watching. Everywhere you go he was always there keeping an eye on you]

Warm, by @highonmarvel

→ [Vampire!Bucky saves you from a car wreck]

Dumb Bunny, by @lunarbuck

→ [The Wolf sees you walking through the forest on your way to your grandmother's house, and he just can't help himself]

Take Me Home Tonight, by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

→ [You run into a familiar face while working]

You’re My Obsession, by @navybrat817 ✸

→ [You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve]

Best Man, by @navybrat817

→ [Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier]

Send Me An Angel, by @navybrat817

→ [Bucky thinks you’re an angel]

Run Like Hell, by @navybrat817

→ [You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though...and you’re not getting away from him that easily]

Caught in the Sirens, by @straywords

→ [After getting away from your ex, you spend the majority of your time looking over your shoulder. When Officer Barnes then takes a special interest in your case, it seems too good to be true]

Tempest, by @highonmarvel ✸

→ [The storm brewing outside is nothing compared to the one in here]

Polaroids, by @highonmarvel

→ [You find out your boyfriend’s into photography]

HR, by @highonmarvel

→ [Your ex has made sure you’ll never get a job in NYC again, but you’re determined to keep your head above water. Just as things are getting too bleak to bare, you meet James Barnes]

Himalayan Salt, by @highonmarvel ✸

→ [You’re assigned to a notoriously grumpy war vet, but he’s different with you]

[From] Run All You Want, by @angrythingstarlight

→ [no description] “Where is my wife?”

Hell could freeze over, by @straywords

→ [Bucky sets out rules and you set out to break them]

You just let it happen, by @highonmarvel ✸

→ After witnessing an ostensible but seemingly non violent crime in its outcome, you push it to the back of your mind, but the offender escalates.

[scribbleseas]

in love & in war: the one where he meets you

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: The reader’s opinions are a bit old-fashioned, and they don’t reflect my own! Besides that, I’m sure there will be some explicit content down the line, but honestly, this story is much more romcom than our usually scheduled programming. It’s just a silly palette cleanser in season for Valentine’s Day.

Author’s Note: Hi! You guys expressed that you guys like more frequent posts, and I’ve reached a bit of a roadblock on my main Ciel fic right now. I thought I would write up a quick beginning to a potential drabble series! If you guys are interested in this premise, let me know! It’s fun to write such chill stakes content for once lol. Also, this isn’t based off a particular request! I’m still playing with my ideas from those, and at this point, I can confidently say you guys are getting either a one shot or a 1-3 part series based on one. Thank you all for submitting, and feel free to keep them coming.

Happy Reading!

- Dan

| NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

MASTERLIST

In Conference

Late May, 1895

Your life was nowhere near as easy as it seemed.

Perhaps, the average onlooker might see you and presume that the expensive jewels wrapped around your neck and your fingers were the most burdensome aspect of your privileged life. Or perhaps they might have thought it would be the pinch from your stately heels or the strain from a brilliant, yet strategic, permanent smile.

Your business smile. Your future-Countess-of-Richmond smile.

But they couldn’t have been more wrong.

This very moment was exact proof of that— you were in the midst of your world collapsing. The abject shock rattling through your mind was akin to a nightmare. Your eyebrows pulled together in a contentious pout, the horrified look you used to get away with your most childish crimes from your parents.

“Marriage? Simply not.” You begged, alreadying feeling your will to fight waver under your father’s tired stare, your mother’s pained grin. “I’m only—”

“Of perfect age to begin looking for a potential partner. 22 is well past ready, I would say,” your mother answered for you.

“I would be— but—” you sputtered like a fish out of water only to inhale deeply through your nose. You needed to collect yourself. Negotiate thoughtfully and logically. That was the only way to get yourself out of this.

“Speak with intent, Y/n,” your father interjected boredly, retraining his attention on the business reports he was reading. He fixed his glasses, pushing them further up the bridge of his nose.

Speak with intent. You knew those words well. They were your solace, the lighthouse in the storm that came with childhood temperament. Your father, no matter the cause of your distress, would answer: Speak with intent.

“Right,” you cleared your throat apologetically, glancing down at your hands as they sat clasped in your lap. “Sincerest apologies, sir.”

Your father hummed, eyebrows jumping a fraction of a centimeter. He picked up his pen and scribbled his signature at the bottom of the report. Your mother’s hand fell on the nape of his neck to make him turn his gaze back up at you. He hesitated before doing so, waiting to click a stamp onto the signed report.

“I do not wish to marry,” you enunciated your words carefully, confidently. “At least, not yet,” you added, now catching your father’s attention for the blunder. “I’ve yet to meet someone I love,” you felt your face redden, a desire to run back to your room threatening to overtake your fortitude. You were only so strong under your father, the Earl of Richmond’s deliberation stare. It struck fear into the other side of conference tables, lecture halls, and courtrooms. And now, across his desk at his only daughter.

Before your father could remind you that love wasn’t the most important aspect of a successful marriage, your mother interjected gently.

“What about the Duke of Clarence’s son, Antonio? He seemed to like you,” she prompted. Wrongly. You’d danced with Antonio at the Summer Solstice gala that the Pembroke family threw annually. The man opted to use the waltz’s entirety to brag about his family’s Italian vineyards and his love for agriculture. And, of course, his admiration for your father’s entrepreneurial genius. His shipping empire, TransAtlantica, had just successfully fortified shipping systems in all of the states; a step forward from simply cycling through all major ports along the east coast.

“He doesn’t love me,” you complained, “he loves TransAtlantica. He’d much prefer to marry our family corporation!” Antonio was suitable. He was decent, but that’s all he truly was to you. It’s all he ever could be.

You met your mother’s eyes pleadingly, and she pursed her lips, fully knowing the next words out of your mouth. You had a deal. From a young age, you knew the Richmond family, the Y/l/n line, respected contracts more than all else. Since you turned 17, you had one signed by all three parties and dated.

Your mother sucked in a breath through her teeth. “I remember the deal,” she said, taking a moment to consider her own words. The corners of her lips twitched as if she was attempting to hide her amusement with you. She understood— her own father, your grandfather, was just as militant, stiff with professionalism. Promises were negotiations with terms, signatures, and stamps. There were no arguments this way. “Dearest,” she addressed your father, the hand that was on the back jumping to his shoulder, “you do as well.”

“Do you?” You challenged, indignantly crossing your arms. “I request you restate the terms, mother.”

“If we are to pressure you into marriage before you feel ready, you must consent to the courting party,” your father took the liberty of answering gruffly. He squared his shoulders, regarding you purposefully— equal parts exhaustion and respect for your endurance. He cultivated it, after all. It was a fire that burned in your family for generations, as sacred as a temple flame.

“Yes,” you affirmed, “and so, I must choose the man I wish to be with.”

“With respect to your titles— no one below your station. And he must be chosen by the end of this courtship season,” your father added, negotiating. He tilted his head, analyzing your next move.

You knew of the first term since you were a child. You even remembered the exact day you learned them. You were a young girl, a little younger than seven. A young commoner boy had attempted to hand you a rose. Your maid at the time had scolded him for standing in the way of a noble family, since he had stepped out in front of you. It was a discernible moment, truly.

As for your father’s second term… you were unconvinced such a thing could be done.

“The end of the courtship season is in four months,” you replied, frowning. You were sure you met most eligible men in your social class. How were you to form a genuine connection in such little time? Even if you couldn’t find love per se, you still wanted to find someone you were compatible with.

“If we reach that deadline and you find no one, we can talk about it,” your mother answered. “And, you must allow me and your aunt to fix you on outings with suitors we like.

“Fine. Only if Daphne joins me,” you replied, knowing fully well that you weren’t allowed anywhere without your handmaiden present.

. . .

Next week

Your mother was sure not to waste any time in beginning to schedule supervised outings with a different well-educated and ennobled man that was within the appropriate age constraints. You’ve never had such a boring week, brutally torn away from the studies you adored so much.

“—And we’ve got another vacation home down in Tuscany, I think,” the Viscount Lineford’s son concluded, taking a peremptory drink out of his tea. He was dressed crisply in beige trousers that rolled up past his ankle and low leather shoes. His sterling watch sparkled in the spring sun.

You fought a building yawn that tempted the back of your throat, determined to hide your exhaustion with the man. It was a good effort, but you certainly weren’t impressed.

“That must be incredible,” you answered absently. “It must be such a lovely foreign getaway for the Lineford family,” you grinned diplomatically, blind to the horror that twisted his — you didn’t care to remember his name, unfortunately — face.

“Foreign? Excuse me Lady Y/n, but my family traces far back into Italian culture that we are practically Roman…” he started, only for you to interject.

“Will you just excuse me, please?” You struggled to keep the desperation out of your face, calmly searching for your supervisor. She was meant to be sitting at a table nearby, merely ensuring that your outing remained within polite societal constraints. More importantly, Daphne served as your escape when your potential suitors proved most unbearable. All you needed to do was subtly tilt your fan to your left ear and the woman would always scramble over to you with an excuse to steer you out of any scenario you found distasteful.

Such as this one.

Daphne never normally left your side, a realization that allowed worry to creep into your tone. “I’m unsure where my maid went, and I would like to fetch her,” you replied, standing and shouldering your small day bag over your shoulder.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, chuckling with bitter disbelief at your rudeness. Ladies were supposed to be demure and polite. You were impatient and honest, a product of an Earl knowing that his daughter was the object of his legacy. Your father trained you as he would a son, and your tutors followed in suit. “Surely you’re joking; this is the middle of our tea.”

Her pocketbook and her sweater weren’t even sitting on the chair she had been occupying, causing you to blink at the empty table in disbelief.

“No, I’m not. I think something might be wrong,” you shouldered past the man, stepping between other individuals sitting at the common tables in the park.

“Fine, you aren’t worth it anyway!” He called at your back, but the words hardly registered with you.

The area was rather common for courting pairs to visit in the early spring. However, it could also be populated with…criminals. “Excuse me,” you mumbled, quickly walking down the paved pathway through the greenery to the main sidewalk, the London pavement heavy with pedestrians. The streets were perhaps more crowded with carriages and sweating horses.

You couldn’t be alone in the city! As a woman of your stature, it simply wasn’t done. Never. Ever. It was an affront to your teachings, and it was unsafe. You needed your friend, not some stranger.

“Where is she?” You mumbled, rapidly attempting to discern every face that passed you. Surely it wouldn’t be long until someone recognized you— you were one of the most photographed families in the country. In fact, you were fortunate no one had offered your location to the press while you were on this outing. You never would have heard the last of it.

Some took hold of your handbag and darted off, using your distractedness to his advantage. He ran to the end of the block and crossed the street, weaving through pedestrians once the crossing guard allowed your side to walk over. If your hand hadn’t been tightly clutching the strap as you walked, you never would have noticed.

You did your best to pick up your speed and chase him, yelling out.

You cried out, glancing down at your long springtime dress. Your short heels were nowhere near efficient enough for you to make a chase out of the robbery, nor should have needed to! Even still, you lunged into the street — without looking.

In fact, if you had committed to your step, you would’ve been flattened by an oncoming carriage, given that the crossing guard had ordered pedestrians to stop passing moments prior. The only reason why you didn’t make the life-ruining step seemed to be… a tall young man with a serious face and staggering presence. He only had one exposed blue eye, the other was concealed by a black eyepatch. His grip tightened around your arm, pulling you intimately into his chest.

You breathed heavily, tearing yourself out of his arms. A flair of irritation caused you to glare at him as you righted your stance and smooth your dress. However, he did save you from a potentially life ending situation. His immediate insurance of your safety was more meaningful than a misaligned gown that you fixed in seconds.

In fact, the moment truly was a bit theatrical. The man was handsome enough to make you smile with uncertainty, your irritation melting. “Thank you for that,” you said, relieved that the sidewalk seemed to clear, the crowd dispersing from the main street. “I could have been killed.”

“That would have been quite a shame,” he replied, locking eyes with you. The man made a thin attempt at returning your smile. He was enchanting, regal… your heart skipped a beat, considerably flustered.

…Until he spoke again, completely distorting the immediate magnetic lure you felt from his sharp features: “Rather careless of you, my Lady. You ought to be smarter than that.”

You frowned. “In case you failed to notice, that man stole my handbag and essentially disappeared,” you snapped impatiently. It had your identification, emergency notes in case you needed to purchase something, the current novel you were fixated on…how were you meant to return to the estate now?

“You weren’t catching him, I don’t think,” he noted astutely, watching you as you stepped past him to go in the direction you came from. Perhaps Daphne circled back to the park in search of you. You absolutely needed to find her.

“Thank you for your help. Good day,” you answered brusquely, continuing to walk. However, he remained in stride with you, still unabashedly smug. It quickly absolved you of any former gratefulness you had toward the man for pulling you away from oncoming traffic. Perhaps it might have hurt less to have collided with a horse and a carriage over the velocity and mass of this random man’s ego.

“What, don’t tell me you going to go chase him,” He said patronizingly, a sardonic pull infecting what you thought was initially a careful smile. No, the man was just another arrogant bastard, it seemed. “In those shoes, especially,” He perused, causing you to stop once more and regard him.

“I am a noble woman, you will not speak to me in such a manner no matter what line of—“ you caught the sapphire family and silver crest rings around two of his fingers — “mediocre destitution you come from!” You jabbed purposefully, undeserving of his rudeness and his condescension, no matter what title he occupied in your class. You were the partial inheritor of TransAtlantia; you trained to run the company to some degree since you could speak. Few could step to you.

“I believe I said good day, kind sir,” you added poisonously, daring him to continue to test you before speeding back towards the park. You needed Daphne, you needed an officer…anyone besides this pompous— you ended the thought before you could further infect yourself with such unladylike curses.

It really wasn’t so easy being the daughter of an Earl.

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“I’ve planned things so Lady Y/n’s maid is off helping a little girl find her mother; I separated the two by distracting the girl with a kitten. Y/n will panic without her maid being within her immediate reach, drawing her out to the street. I will cause her to put herself in harm’s way by distracting her at the corner of 89th Street and Arthur. Be ready by the street post. I’ve made the new paralegal late to his case, he will have instructed his butler to drive quick. You will need to pull her away from the street. If you miss, things may end rather…unfortunately for the young woman,” Ciel Phantomhive’s butler, Sebastian Michealis, outlined.

Sebastian was Ciel’s head butler, his head chef, head landscaper, tailor, tutor… but most importantly, the Earl of Phantomhive’s contracted demon. The supernatural being was at his disposal and his bidding; his new role being the most interesting one of all: matchmaker. He fabricated a scene for Ciel to meet Y/n Y/l/n, and ideally, make her love him.

It was simple, really. Ciel needed a wife; Y/n’s family needed a competent businessman to run that prosperous giant of a shipping enterprise; and most importantly, the woman seemed to be rather competent. The only danger to his strategy was, of course, Y/n’s foul storybook idealism, apparently. Ciel knew Y/n was highly educated and well graced in ettiquiete, but she seemed intent on finding some happily ever after of sorts.

She wanted a husband— a bloody love match. No— she needed an actor to convince her that she was worth marrying beyond the incredible status she represented. There was no asset greater than a title and an economic monarchy to inherit, and securing such a prize meant that Ciel needed to woo her.

“My Lord, you must be considerate, but not too kind. Though you should also refrain from acting too smugly or the lady may take offense,” his butler had offered some horrifically embarrassing — and incredibly unhelpful — acting lessons for him to express the particular warmth Lady Y/n seemed to be looking for.

Love. A feeling Ciel hadn’t known in around nine years. Arguably, it could’ve been more. And yet, in order to stop being solicited by desperate mothers and unlikely candidates, he was securing his bride.

According to Ciel’s butler, that meant he needed to create a memorable foundation in the woman’s mind, an introduction that would leave her curious, impassioned. Wanting more. Something to make him stand out amongst the other faceless, classless mouth breathers who would be vying for TransAtlantica, now that word of her search for a suitor was widespread.

The company and Y/n’s hand were all one in the same courtship, and Ciel was sure the was going to win both.

The Earl of Phantomhive was never one to lose. He’d be remiss to start now.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Black Tea & Pastries Part 2 | #LeviMonth2024 Fluff Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.6k ✧ notes ➼ canonverse, post-war!levi x barista!reader, fem!reader, alcohol mention, part 2 to this 😌 ✧ comments ➼ levi month entry for august 22! i fell in love with these two goofs so i made a part 2 hehe ✧ join my levi month taglist here!

{{ August 19 (Post-War: Marriage) | August 24 (Crime + Secret Relationship Part 1) }} Masterlist

Seeing Levi at the cafe every day was something that you had grown to expect. You'd come in for your shift, he'd pop in during the afternoon—sometimes the morning if he wasn't too busy—you'd give him his black tea and pastry, chat a bit, and then he'd walk you home after your shift. It was a pattern that you easily settled into.

You'd occasionally catch him strolling outside your apartment since you lived on the same street, but he was usually with Gabi and Falco and on his way to help out with the post-Rumbling restoration efforts. You had made multiple notes to yourself to chat with him outside of your home when the opportunity arose, but it never had. At least you could look forward to seeing him at the cafe.

That was precisely why you felt just a hint of concern arising within you when you realized that it almost closing time and you had yet to see Levi pop in. He visited late sometimes, but never this late. Now that you thought about it, you didn't really see him come out of his apartment earlier in the day either.

You thought it was silly, but you went ahead and made his favorite black tea and grabbed the day's pastry special for him. You knew that you shouldn't be giving your customers special treatment, especially since you had already stopped charging him for his orders, but you had this pleasant feeling arise within you ever since you first saw him and it had only grown stronger within the past few weeks of hanging out with him.

With everyone else, you had to pretend. Your Marleyan friends were a bit wary of your heritage as an Eldian, customers couldn't be bothered to learn your name, and your boss was focused much more on performance than your actual well-being. Yet, around Levi, you felt like you could be yourself.

You were walking home, clutching the pastry bag in one hand, and holding the to-go cup in another, praying that the tea wouldn't be cold by the time you arrived. A part of you was even getting nervous.

What if he judged the fact that you brought his order specifically to his apartment? What if he thought you were being weird? A part of you was even tempted to change your mind entirely and go home with the snacks and keep it for yourself just to avoid having this interaction.

Still, you bit your lip and took a deep breath, stepping up to his door.

You were just about to knock when the door opened. Levi had heard you step up.

You blinked at him in surprise for a split second, startled by the fact that he already knew you were here before you could practice the script in your head as to why you had brought him his order.

"Hi."

You quickly shoved the tea and pastry bag at him before he could respond.

"…I brought you tea-"

You paused, internally cringing upon realizing the time of day.

"-despite it being the evening…"

The black tea had a considerable amount of caffeine in it, so there wouldn't really be a reason for him to want it this late into the evening.

Levi gently took the cup and pastry from you, noting that the beverage was still warm despite being brought out into the cold.

"It's okay, I don't really sleep anyway."

A slight wave of relief washed over you. You kicked your feet at the ground, awkwardly shuffling around and not knowing what to say, but not wanting to leave either. You did miss him today, after all.

"…would you like to come in?" he questioned, finally breaking the silence. "It's a bit chilly, and I have the stove running."

The sudden and unexpected question momentarily made you freeze. "You inviting me over for dinner?"

You felt him pause, getting caught a bit off-guard himself.

"…or is this to follow-up on our 'outside of the cafe' conversations?" You looked back up to him, watching the small smirk form on his lips.

"Perhaps," he muttered without specifying which question he was referring to.

Levi always had a unique ability to calm down your nerves without even intentionally trying to. As soon as you made eye contact with him, you felt your anxiety dissipate into excitement.

"Let me drop off my stuff at home, and I'll hop back over," you agreed with a small smile and nod.

Levi acknowledged your request with a small nod of his own.

“Door’s unlocked. Just pop back in so you don’t end up dragging my ass away from the stove again.”

You gave him a bashful smile in an attempt to hide how flustered his comment made you, before quickly turning to head towards your apartment, trying to slow down your pace to contain your excitement.

As you set your stuff down once you got inside, you noticed the bottle of wine that had been collecting dust on your counter. You had saved it up from when a bad date blew you off, and the idea of going through it now with Levi seemed oddly fitting.

After changing out of your barista uniform and into something more comfortable—a casual and loose-fitting sundress and sandals—you grabbed onto the bottle, wiping off any collected lint from the surface, finding yourself unable to contain the smile on your face upon thinking of spending the evening with him.

It only took you about ten minutes before you were heading back, hesitantly opening the door to his place. You were suddenly hit with a waft of the stew he was making, one that seemed hearty and filled with a spicy aroma that indicated that cooking was one of the few hobbies he had picked up since retiring after the war.

You slowly stepped inside, waving at him once he noticed you. His eyes ran down your figure, and you immediately felt your face heating up from his sustained attention.

“I didn’t want to just be in my work uniform,” you mumbled quietly. “Did I overdo it?”

“Not at all,” he reassured, giving a slight shake of his head. “Come in.”

You looked around the living room as you took off your shoes, noticing that the furniture was in the process of getting moved around. It didn’t take you long to deduce that he was renovating, and that it likely explained his absence from the cafe today.

It wasn’t anything too fancy—just the installation of a windowsill garden—but it required him to move furniture around, which was significantly more difficult since he was living alone, with his knee acting up a bit today that resulted in it being a bit more painful moving around compared to usual.

“Pardon the mess,” he muttered, motioning towards the mini-garden that you had noticed. “Was trying to get this set up, but this damned couch was in the way.”

Levi usually hated messes, but it couldn’t be helped for now. He had to pick and choose his battles, and he chose to prioritize preparing food for the week instead of reorganizing furniture that he’d ultimately have to move again anyway.

The garden itself was roughly half-way done. It needed some clean-up and the furniture needed to be put back, but it looked like he got most of the hard work done today. You took a look at it and made a mental note to maybe help him clean up and finish up the garden tomorrow since you had the day off.

You looked back up at him as he gestured over towards the table. Your eyebrows slightly furrowed into a concerned frown when you noticed that his limp was a bit more obvious than usual—he was having a bad knee day.

You set the wine bottle down onto the table and, instead of taking a seat, joined him in the kitchen to help him out.

He was indeed making a stew. It was easy to store, and would be a cozy meal given the fact that it was beginning to get chilly outside.

Levi didn’t complain, and in fact welcomed your presence in the kitchen with him, allowing you space to portion out the stew for the two of you to bring over to the table before he began scooping the rest into a spare container to store for later.

It was a small kitchen, and you had to dance around each other as you walked back and forth, but working together with him felt effortless, and gave the both of you a nice experience in domestic life that you hadn’t been able to ever have before.

You felt your cheeks heating up again upon thinking about any possible future occurrences of this with him. You certainly wouldn’t mind.

“…I brought some wine, if you were interested,” you announced as you brought two wine glasses over to the table and popping open the bottle.

Seeing his nod, you filled your glasses before taking a seat with him to enjoy your impromptu dinner.

You had enjoyed your evening walks home with him from the cafe, and had gotten concerned when he failed to show up today, but you certainly didn’t mind if the result was spending the evening with him in his residence, sharing a warm meal, and chatting without the constraints of the time spent walking home.

#: @shayewrites @littlerequiem @mostlilo @humanitys-strongest-brat @dustbuniesworld @levisrations @ebechnasheim @moonchild-angel @jayteacups @bipolargatto @samackermaan @deepzombieyouth @levkuna @levisfavoriteteashop @ackermanswifee @ae-chidori @2dsimpomg @anti-cupid

[eternal-echoes]

The poll

I don't think it's just that; I think more and more people are realizing that every child deserves a mother and a father and legalizing gay marriage deliberately deprives a kid of one of them. Orphans and children of single parents always long for their missing parents.

While there are unfortunate circumstances like death of a parent or divorcing an abusive spouse that makes it inevitable, ultimately since children are made through the biological union of a man and woman, their spiritual relationship with them should be preserved.

Since we're not just a material being, we're also of both body and soul. Not Cartesian dualism but Hylomorphism where the union of body and soul makes one nature.

The only two ways a gay couple can have a baby is either through surrogacy and/or adoption. Along with its ethical concerns with buying a baby, a gay couple taking a newly born baby from his/her mother is depriving that child with the much needed bonding time with the mother (i.e. breastfeeding, cuddling, etc). It's illegal to sell a puppy within 8 weeks of birth because it would be too cruel to separate it from its mother,* then how much more devastating would it be when it comes to a human child? And a child's need for a mother doesn't stop when he/she no longer needs to be breastfed, the mother is essential for the child's emotional maturity as well.

Here is a video of Ryan T. Anderson back in 2014. I'll highlight some important points but the whole video is really good.

Marriage exists to unite a man and a woman as husband and wife to then be equipped to be mother and father to any children that that union produces. It's based on the biological fact that men and women are distinct and complementary, it's based on the anthropological truth that reproduction requires a man and a woman, it's based on the social reality that children deserve a mother and a father. ... Marriage is the institution that different cultures and societies, across time and place, developed to maximize the likelihood that that man commits to that woman, and then the two of them take responsibility to raise that child. Part of this is based on the reality: there's no such thing as parenting in the abstract; there's mothering and there's fathering. Men and women bring different gifts to the parenting enterprise. Rutgers sociologist professor David Popenoe writes, "The burden of social science evidence supports the idea that gender differentiating parenting is important for human development and the contribution of fathers to childrearing is unique and irreplaceable." He then concludes, "we should disavow the notion that mommies can make good daddies, just as we should disavow the popular notion that daddies can make good mommies. The two sexes are different to the core and each is necessary, culturally and biologically for the optimal development of a human being." ... The impact of marriage. So why does marriage matter for public policy? Perhaps there's no better way to analyze this than looking to our own president, President Barrack Obama: "We know the statistics that children who grow up without a father are five times more likely to live in poverty and commit crime, nine times more likely to drop out of schools, and 20 times more likely to end up in prison. They're more likely to have behavioral problems or run away from home, or become teenage parents themselves. And the foundation of our community are weaker because of it." ... President Obama sums it up very well: what we've seen in the past 50 years since the War on Poverty began, is that the family has collapsed. At one point in America virtually every child was given the gift of a married mother and father, those numbers right now: it's more than 50% of Hispanics children are born outside of wedlock, more than 70% of African Americans are born outside of wedlock. And the consequences for those children are really serious. The State's interest in marriage is not that it cares about my love life, or your love life, or anyone's love life just for the sake of romance. The State's interest in marriage is ensuring that those kids have fathers who are involved in their lives. ... If the biggest social problem we face right now in the United States is absentee dads, how will we insist that fathers are essential when the law redefines marriage to make fathers optional? ... Think about the social consequences if that's the direction the slippery slope in which marriage redefinition would go. For every additional sexual partner I have, and for the shorter lived those relationships are, the greater the chances that I create children with multiple women, without commitment with either to those mothers or to those kids. It increases the likelihood of creating fragmented families and then big government will step in to pick up the pieces with a host of welfare programs that truly drain the economic prospects of all of our states. ... So for all those reasons this is why the State and all states have an interest in preserving the definition of marriage as a union, permanent and exclusive of a man and a woman.

Also an article supporting some of Ryan T. Anderson's points:

It’s worse to be raised by a single mother, even if you’re not poor.

The reason for this is that fathers tend to be the disciplinarian in the family. They provide the moral framework in his children's lives.

Reminder that even though the Catholic Church does not support gay marriage, it doesn't mean that she hates gay people. There is a ministry called Courage International where people with same-sex attractions are encourage to live chaste and holy lives.

*Original wording taken from here.

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty-Four - Taken

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

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Lando Norris did exactly what he said he was going to do. Now that there were no threats held over them, he flew to the Netherlands. Only two of his men were with him as he used his private jet to pick up his sister.

His knee bounced as the jet landed in the Verstappen hangar. Lando had called ahead, told Verstappen what was going on. Verstappen was more than happy to oblige. (Verstappen was a very cold and calculating man. He didn't much care that Y/N was in his house and left Max to deal with her. She was more a bother than anything else to him and he was more than happy to get rid of her).

Max wasn't happy with Y/N leaving the Verstappen stronghold. In her he'd developed a friendship, and she had been something of a perfect (platonic) companion. Happy to spend time with him while he did his thing and she did her own thing.

They watched movies together, just happy to spend time around each other. It made the time that Carlos was away pass quickly and distracted her from missing him terribly.

But she did still miss him terribly.

Max stood beside Y/N, several of his fathers men surrounding them as Lando's jet touched down in front of them. "I'm gonna try and get into contact with Carlos, tell him where you've gone," He called over the sound of Lando's jet.

"Just don't make him worried!" Y/N called, Lando walking off of the jet. "I don't want him panicking while he's busy!"

Max nodded his head as Lando strode over, round sunglasses covering his eyes. "Let's go," he said the moment he reached his sister, grasping a hold of her arm. Behind his sunglasses his eyes glanced down, looking towards the bump that wasn't there yet.

But she didn't let him pull her away. Y/N stepped away from her brother and launched herself at Max, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you," she whispered and kissed his cheek.

Lando gave Max a nod and grabbed a hold of his sister once again. He gently pulled her away, pulling her back towards the jet. This time she went with him, walking up the steps and climbing into the jet.

Before she knew it, they were in the air, leaving the Netherlands and getting further away from the country she now called home.

***

For twelve weeks Carlos was stuck in Spain, missing his pretty little wife. He had no pictures of her, nothing to remind him of her. In those twelve weeks, Carlos had never felt so lonely.

Was this how she felt during the start of their marriage? Regret filled him when he thought about it.

He wanted her home. Now.

But he couldn't. Carlos couldn't have her home until he knew the house was completely safe.

The first thing finished was the door, the one that needed a retina scan to get in. It was incredibly expensive, but Carlos would spend all of the money in the world to keep Y/N safe.

New cameras, new gates and new alarm systems had been installed. Carlos got rid of his at home golf course, filling in the holes and flattening out the banks.

Instead of the golf course, he had a play area installed. A little slide, a sand box, swings, and more. Carlos was also having a small slide installed in the pool. He was going to give their little one everything.

As the walls were built around the house, Carlos emptied out his room opposite his own. Well, it wasn't his room anymore. It was theirs, his and Y/N's. Anyway, he emptied out the room opposite, which was once a guest bedroom, and painted the walls.

Pink or blue were the colours he spent way too long debating over. But he didn't go with either colour, instead painting the walls a nice, olive green.

It was just the base. What Carlos wanted more than anything for their baby's bedroom was a mural of animals. A collection of jungle animals in trees, painted on the walls, or badgers and foxes prancing around in sweaters (but Carlos was leaning more towards the jungle animals).

His laptop was full of open tabs of baby things. A crib, a mobile to hang above the bed, a wardrobe (one pink and princess themed, one cream, ready for the couple to decorate it). He'd picked out giraffe rug to go with the potential jungle mural, and a collection of books, some in English and some in Spanish.

Carlos hated that he was doing it without Y/N, but it made him miss her just a little bit less, getting the room ready for baby Valentina or baby Oscar.

He ordered the crib, but everything else he'd do with Y/N. As Carlos sat on the floor of the baby's room, he smiled to himself. He couldn't wait to have the two of them home.

***

Oscar stepped out of the car, looking at the familiar house. It was fortified now, with high walls and two gates before you got to the main house. But it wasn't quite finished yet, the Spanish mansion looking like a construction site.

On Carlos's command, Oscar had been allowed through. Carlos opened the door, allowing him in, and Oscar ran up to the office.

But Carlos wasn't in the office. He was opposite and over one, in the room that was for the baby.

Oscar gently knocked on the door before allowing himself in. The door had been painted cream, a different colour to the rest of the doors in the house, with a space left for a name.

"Hey," said Oscar as he looked down at Carlos, constructing the crib. "Where did you send her?"

Carlos placed the piece of crib he was constructing to one side and let out a sigh. "I sent her to the Verstappens," he said and leaned back on his palms. "I sent her somewhere she would be safe, and Norris decided he wanted to bring her back to England."

Oscar glared at the floor. "Well, at least she's with family now," he said, trying to justify it as he leaned against the wall.

"Just one more week and I will bring her home," Carlos said and looked up at Oscar.

Oscar pulled off his suit jacket and got to work. He helped Carlos set up the crib and hung the mobile above it. The two of them worked together to put together the book case. "I was going to wait for Y/N to do all of this," said Carlos as they screwed the bookshelf into the wall, preventing it from ever toppling over.

"Sorry," Oscar said somewhat sheepishly as he pulled his suit jacket back over his shoulders. "But this was fun. Have you guys thought of names?"

Carlos only smirked.

***

The Norris house wasn't well fortified. It wasn't fortified at all. But Lando didn't have anybody he loved and wanted to protect, so he didn't do anything to make the house more secure.

There were a few extra cameras and a few alarms on the doors. But that was it.

And then Lando brought Y/N home. He brought his sister back to her house, a place she hadn't been to since their fathers funeral. So much had changed since then. She was carrying a child now, actually in love with the man she had been forced to marry.

Even though the Norris house wasn't well fortified, Y/N couldn't stop herself from feeling safe. This was her childhood home, where she had grown up.

Once again, just as they had at the start of this story, Y/N and Lando sat in the library, playing a game of chess. She was winning, as she always did.

Normality was nice. But, as nice as it was, Y/N missed her husband.

"Your chess game has gone down hill," said Lando as she took his queen. Yes she was winning, but it had taken a lot longer than Lando expected.

Y/N looked at her brother through her lashes. She hadn't played chess for the entire time that they had been in the safehouse. She knew she'd lost her touch, but she was still winning. Her time in this house was going to be spent playing chess.

Lando tried to spend as much time with her as he could. Who knew when Carlos was going to come and get her, to take his sister away from him again?

Y/N had been in the Norris house for four weeks before she started showing. Just a small bump, she didn't need to start wearing stretchy clothing just yet.

"Have you thought of names?" Asked Lando as they ate breakfast together after four weeks of living together again.

Y/N swallowed her breakfast. "Briefly, yeah. We talked about it just before he flew back to Spain," she said, leaning her head against her hand.

"If it's a boy would you name it after dad?"

Y/N looked at her brother. She hadn't even considered naming the child after her father. Guilt settled in her stomach as she realised she considered Oscar as the namesake before she thought about her father. But no, she wanted to name the baby after Oscar and that she was going to do (if it was a boy).

Time worked in a funny way. She had spent ten weeks back in her childhood home, twelve weeks in total away from her husband. Y/N didn't know it, but this was the day he was coming back to her, returning her to the home he had now made safe for them.

But she'd never find that out.

Like I said, the Norris house wasn't well fortified. Lando had only been targeted once and that was it, he didn't think he needed to fortify it more. Maybe it was his age, or his lack of experience as a head of family.

They broke into the house in the early hours of the morning. Those that had been on watch were tired after hours protecting the house.

It was easy for them to climb in through Y/N's bedroom window, knock her out before she knew what had happened, and take her away.

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[tornedheart]

War Trophy — Yandere Aemond Targaryen

GIF by @aemondtargaryensrider

Warnings: unhealthy relationships, war crimes, implied dub-con, forced marriage, pregnancy mentions, isolation.

Bringing you as a hostage wife from Harrenhal feels like an awesome idea from Aemond, a pity you may have different feeling in this matter.

Aemond had told you that it could could have been a rocky first meeting, but war was never fair so it was only a question of both of you to pardon each other and move on.

He didn't seem to notice the blatant difference between he storming Harrenhal with a dragon and burning everything to the ground to her simply trying to run away from it.

And then being dragged in the same dragon to King's Landing because the man had felt a connection with you, it was almost like love at first sight, he told you once, when you were intertwined in bed, his fingers drying the tears that stained her face.

It didn't matter to him that he killed your family, destroyed your house and stole you. It didn't matter how you had cried in the wedding, the option to refuse was never present.

There are the never ending whispers, some which you are sure the speakers aren't even bothering to try to not be heard, most of them blaming you for seducing a prince.

Aemond can conjure a multitude of nicknames, they should be so sweet, almost all of them make your stomach turn. Little trophy seems to be his favorite, you can guess that the memories it brings to him must be different from yours.

It must not be the one of seeing death walk directly towards you — drenched in blood and smelling death — only for him to throw you onto his shoulders and march towards that fire breathing beast. Not the lingering touches and the paralyzing fear that stroke your body, and not the pit that opened on your stomach when his mouth approached your ear and the talk started.

He seems to bask in delight in the fact that you are unable to approach anyone at court, not with the stares full of disdain and the way most of the ladies shunt away when seeing you walk in their direction.

Aemond knows he has a marvelous way to ward off the loneliness, he tells one night, how maybe a children or two (or three, or four, or…, but he thinks saying this so soon may be a bit pressuring) could keep you company. His hand hovers in your stomach for a bit, he tells how he may had already put the babe in you.

You know no maester will ever give you moon tea again.

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[cherryheairt]

"Eager for a niece or nephew already?" Daenys asked, corners of her mouth lifting. One day, she hoped for many nieces and nephews to surround herself with if she truly did end up a spinster. If so, she was comforted with the fact that she had only brothers, thus would have all their wives be moved to Dragonstone or the Red Keep to allow everyone to be close together.

"Indeed. It's been a while since Winterfell's keep has been graced with younglings."

Daenys almost snorted at the strange name for children but kept it to herself in hopes of not offending him. Northerners and their strange vocabulary. "I quite agree, it is rather quiet in the Great Keep."

Is it too soon to say that I hope the little footsteps and giggles that fill the walls of Winterfell are Daenys' babies with Cregan? Despite his initial mistrust and reservations, Cregan begins to fall in love with the princess so subtly that he doesn't even seem to realise it. It's one thing to worry about the daughter of the heir to the throne being well cared for and safe while she's under your responsibility in your house, but it's quite another to comb her hair and teach her how to hunt and fight. I mean Cregan first turned away when the princess washed her hair, but then braided it (I say that at that moment the idea occurred to him and he was grateful to have had an annoying sister in childhood). Apparently Cregan was jealous that Seamus had saved her before him. Cregan has taught her to hunt and fight because he cares about her. Cregan has deliberately looked at her legs, plus he sleeps next to her (I say that when they slept Cregan felt the softness of the princess's hair and thought again to braid it just to touch it freely, besides looking at her freely). Now Cregan is very worried about what Seamus is going to do to her now that he has taken her away from him.

The same goes for the princess, she seemed very worried because she thought she always ruins things when she talks to Cregan (because of the death talk). Plus she was too worried that if she hadn't got the Targaryen genes he might never have paid attention to her and would have mistaken her for any lady from any other House. It is no accident that she thought that when she previously compared Cregan to a prince. It seems a subtle hint of romantic feelings on her part.

Was it casual when you braided my hair and asked how I want my funeral rites to be????

Yes! I'm glad you noticed the transition between him respectfully looking away and then offering to DO her hair for her when he noticed how much she hated doing it every morning.

Neither of them even seem to notice, but theyre both being consumed entirely by the thought of the other, even imagining life before them is a distant memory by now.

Little Dragon-Wolf 'pups' or 'hatchlings' are what I think they might call their kids. I was just thinking of making a drabble about wolf pack behavior and comparing that to their future dynamics 😌

She has spent her adolescence thinking her only interactions with kids will be with her nieces and nephews, not her own children. She's in for a world of surprise there.

Imagine the thoughts that Daenys has running through her mind currently, and when she was alone with him in the woods once again. This giant beast of a man looking at you spitefully, telling you that you only need to be alive and nothing else. Cregan knows the mind of a man and has sent countless to the Wall for their crimes against women. Alone for hours on dragonback, where not even your dragon, who is seen as a God to the smallfolk, can help you.

I think the Starks are quite like royalty in their own way. They govern and dictate themselves. They are entirely ignored by the Crown until they need fighters for wars that don't involve the North one bit.

Unfortunately, even after marriage Cregan would not officially be called a Prince. Like Ser Laenor and Lady Laena who married the Prince and Princess and never changed titles.

Also, that makes me wonder about the canon events in the book. If everyone but Aegon and Viserys is gone, Daenys would be the heir as the eldest child of Rhaenyras. After their eventual marriage, would Cregan leave Winterfell to be King Consort, or would they be doomed to live the rest of their lives apart spare from occasional visits to the other. It's a tempting angsty end, one that Daenys would probably not be able to cope with alone.

I hope everyone is content with how the romance is progressing, I feel as if it is fast-paced but I know I can't wait forever for the romance aspect lol