#she said “effort is a shield to protect yourself”
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Alpha ATEEZ x Assistant Omega Reader
Warnings: omega reader, alpha ateez, scenting, heats, ruts, slow burn, eventual smut, forced command, more to come!
When Y/n accepts a position as assistant to alpha K-pop group ATEEZ, she's prepared with professional skills and scent blockers to hide her omega status. What she's not prepared for is the immediate, inexplicable connection she feels with all eight members—a resonance that defies her careful boundaries.
As Y/n becomes eerily attuned to their needs, her suppressed omega nature begins to emerge: purring for the first time in years, responding to alpha growls, feeling safe in ways she never has before. When a protective incident reveals the depth of the members' attachment to her, Y/n must confront the possibility that what binds them together is something ancient and profound.
Authors note: So it’s a long one, but we are finally getting into the good stuff! Possibly a double update tonight also! 💜🔥
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Masterlist Ko-Fi☕️
Chapter 8: Rising Heat
The three weeks following the pool incident had transformed the atmosphere in the ATEEZ household in ways both subtle and profound. What had once been an undercurrent of unspoken attraction had evolved into something far more charged, a constant awareness that crackled between you and the members like electricity before a storm.
Wooyoung, emboldened by your playful response to his "Tulip" nickname, had become increasingly bold in his flirtations. Where once his comments had been theatrical and over-the-top, they now carried a heat that made your pulse quicken despite your best efforts to maintain professional composure.
"Good morning, beautiful," had become his standard greeting when you entered the kitchen each day, delivered with a lazy smile that lingered on your face longer than strictly appropriate. His casual touches—a hand on your lower back as he passed behind you, fingers brushing yours when handing you documents—had multiplied, each contact deliberate and charged with intention.
Just yesterday, when you'd been reaching for a file on a high shelf, he'd appeared behind you, his chest pressing lightly against your back as his arm extended over yours to retrieve it.
"Let me get that for you, Tulip," he'd murmured directly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. When you'd turned to thank him, you'd found yourself trapped between his body and the filing cabinet, his dark eyes intense as they studied your face.
"You know," he'd said softly, his voice dropping to that register that made your omega stir restlessly, "I keep having these dreams about tulips. Very... detailed dreams."
The implication had been clear, and for a moment you'd felt your resolve waver under the heat of his gaze. It had taken every ounce of your self-control to duck under his arm with a breathless laugh, muttering something about needing to check the day's schedule.
Mingi's response to the pool incident had manifested differently but no less intensely. His protective instincts, already pronounced, had amplified to the point where his alpha presence seemed to surround you like a shield whenever unfamiliar people were present.
During a meeting with external producers the previous week, you'd felt him before you'd seen him—that warm, encompassing energy that made your omega want to lean into his strength. He'd appeared at your side as if materializing from thin air, his tall frame creating a subtle but unmistakable barrier between you and the alpha producer who'd been standing a bit too close for comfort.
"Y/n," he'd said, his deep voice carrying undertones that raised goosebumps along your arms, "Hongjoong-hyung needs to see you in the studio."
It had been a lie—you'd discovered later that Hongjoong had been in dance practice at the time—but Mingi's protective fabrication had extracted you from an increasingly uncomfortable situation with practiced ease.
When you'd confronted him about it afterward, he'd simply shrugged, unrepentant. "You looked uncomfortable. I couldn't just stand there and watch."
"I can handle myself, Mingi," you'd protested, though your heart had fluttered at his protective instincts.
His response had been to step closer, close enough that you had to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. "I know you can," he'd said quietly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from your face. "That doesn't mean you should have to handle everything alone."
The gentle touch had lingered, his thumb tracing your cheek with reverent care that made your breath catch. For a moment, you'd thought he might kiss you—had seen the intention form in his dark eyes—before professional reality had reasserted itself and you'd both stepped back.
But it was your interactions with Hongjoong that had become most dangerous to your carefully maintained equilibrium. The leader's responses to your increased comfort in your role—and perhaps to whatever he'd witnessed that night by the pool—had evolved into something that walked the finest line between professional and intimate.
His touches had become both more frequent and more deliberate. A hand on your shoulder that lingered just a moment too long when he leaned over to review something on your tablet. Fingers trailing across yours when he handed you your morning coffee, the contact seemingly accidental but repeated too often to be coincidental.
The comments, too, had taken on layers of meaning that left you breathless and confused in equal measure.
"You're getting very good at handling all of us," he'd observed just yesterday, his voice laden with double meaning as he watched you coordinate eight different schedules with effortless efficiency.
"It's all about finding the right... approach for each individual," you'd replied, matching his tone despite the heat rising to your cheeks.
Hongjoong's smile had been slow and appreciative. "You certainly seem to have figured out what works for us. Very... responsive to your methods."
The conversation had been ostensibly about your professional capabilities, but the undercurrent had been anything but professional. You'd felt it in the way his eyes tracked your movements, in the slight huskiness that crept into his voice when he spoke directly to you.
Most concerning of all was how your body had begun responding to their increased attention. Despite the scent blocker that prevented you from detecting their alpha pheromones, your omega nature seemed to be awakening to their presence in ways that bypassed your rational control.
You'd started experiencing a restless energy that built throughout the day, particularly when surrounded by multiple members. Your skin felt more sensitive, more aware of every casual touch and lingering glance. Sleep had become elusive, your dreams filled with scents you couldn't quite recall upon waking and touches that left you aching for something you couldn't name.
The night sweats had started two weeks ago—waking up overheated and disoriented, your body feeling like it was searching for something missing. You'd attributed it to stress from the comeback preparations, but deep down, you suspected something more fundamental was happening.
Your omega was responding to the pack of alphas around you, even with the blocker in place. The realization was both thrilling and terrifying.
---
Tonight offered a rare respite from the intensity. The members had gone out for a team dinner, a final celebration before the official comeback activities began tomorrow. You'd been invited, of course, but had declined, claiming exhaustion and the need for an early night.
In truth, you'd wanted the space to breathe, to exist for a few hours without the constant awareness of eight alpha presences that had your omega in a state of perpetual alert.
The house felt different in their absence—larger somehow, but also strangely empty. You'd eaten a quiet dinner alone, caught up on some administrative tasks, and then found yourself drawn once again to the pool.
The water called to you like a siren song, promising the same peaceful reset you'd experienced that first night weeks ago. This time, you chose a different bikini—a deep navy blue that complemented your skin tone—and made your way outside without bothering to check if any lights were on in the main house.
The pool area was bathed in soft underwater lighting, the surface of the water perfectly still and inviting. You dropped your towel on a nearby lounger and walked to the pool's edge, testing the temperature with your toe before slowly descending the steps.
The water was perfect, warm enough to be comfortable but cool enough to be refreshing against your overheated skin. You ducked under the surface completely, letting the water envelope you in its weightless embrace before surfacing with a contented sigh.
"Well, this is becoming a habit."
The amused voice from the darkness made you jump, your heart immediately racing as you spun toward the source. Hongjoong sat in one of the loungers you hadn't noticed in the shadows, his posture relaxed but his eyes unmistakably fixed on you.
"Hongjoong!" you gasped, instinctively sinking lower into the water until it reached your collarbones. "I thought you went to dinner with the others."
"I had a headache," he replied, his voice carrying easily across the quiet space. "Decided to stay home and get some air." He gestured vaguely toward the pool. "Didn't expect to get such an... enlightening view."
Heat flooded your cheeks at his words and the obvious implication. "How long have you been sitting there?"
"Long enough," he said with a small smile that managed to be both innocent and thoroughly wicked. "You swim beautifully, by the way. Very... graceful."
The compliment, delivered in that slightly husky tone he'd been using with you lately, sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the water temperature. "That's a very polite way of saying you were watching me like a creep."
Hongjoong laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "Guilty as charged. Though in my defense, you're in my pool. I think that gives me some viewing rights."
"Your pool?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. "I was told it was for everyone."
"True," he conceded, rising from the lounger with fluid grace. "Which means I can use it too, if I want."
The suggestion in his tone made your pulse quicken, but you weren't about to back down from whatever game this was becoming. "The water's perfect," you said, your voice deliberately casual despite the way your heart was hammering against your ribs. "Plenty of room for two."
Hongjoong's eyes darkened at your words, something predatory flickering in their depths. "Is that an invitation, Tulip?"
The nickname, delivered in his voice rather than Wooyoung's playful tone, sent a jolt of electricity through you. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just being polite to the homeowner."
"Politeness," he mused, beginning to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness. "Is that what we're calling this?"
You felt your breath catch as he revealed the toned chest beneath his shirt, the fabric falling to the ground beside the lounger. Your eyes tracked the movement of his hands as they moved to his belt, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing.
This was dangerous territory—alone with one of the alphas under your care, both of you in various states of undress, the professional boundaries you'd carefully maintained becoming increasingly blurred. But something about the night, about his presence, about the way he was looking at you like you were something precious and desirable, made caution feel less important than the heat building between you.
"Maybe you should define what 'this' is," you managed, your voice slightly breathless despite your attempt at composure.
Hongjoong paused in removing his belt, his eyes meeting yours across the pool deck. "Honestly? I'm not entirely sure. But I know I don't want to stop finding out."
The admission hung between you, honest and vulnerable in a way that made your chest tighten with emotion that went beyond simple attraction.
"Well," you said, surprised by the steadiness of your own voice, "you can't find out anything standing over there fully clothed."
It was a clear invitation, perhaps the boldest thing you'd ever said to him. Hongjoong's smile was slow and devastating as he resumed removing his belt, then his pants, until he stood at the pool's edge in only his black boxer briefs.
Your mouth went dry at the sight of him—lean muscle and golden skin, the underwater lights casting interesting shadows across his torso. When he caught you staring, his smile turned decidedly smug.
"See something you like?" he asked, echoing your earlier boldness.
"Maybe," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "Guess you'll have to come closer to find out."
Without breaking eye contact, Hongjoong walked to the pool steps. The water rippled around his feet as he slowly descended, his movements deliberate and measured. You watched with bated breath as the water rose around his calves, his thighs, his waist, each inch revealing and concealing in equal measure.
When he was fully in the pool, standing just a few feet away from you, the atmosphere crackled with potential. The space between you felt both vast and nonexistent, charged with everything you'd been carefully not acknowledging for weeks.
"Now what?" he asked softly, his voice carrying easily across the water despite its quiet tone.
"Now," you said, your heart racing as you met his gaze, "we see what happens next."
Hongjoong took a step toward you through the water, his movements creating gentle ripples that reached you before he did. Something mischievous sparked in your chest at his approach, and you found yourself swimming backward with a teasing smirk.
"Running away already?" he asked, amusement coloring his voice as he continued moving toward you with deliberate intent.
"Not running," you replied, laughing as you put more distance between you. "Just making you work for it."
He swam after you with easy strokes, his technique far more efficient than your playful backward paddling. When he gained on you, you squealed with laughter and darted to the side, using your smaller size to your advantage as you evaded his reach.
A low, playful growl rumbled from his chest—a sound that was purely alpha and sent a thrill straight through your omega core. When you glanced back at him, his eyes had taken on that distinctive golden glow that marked an alpha's heightened state.
"Oh no," you gasped with exaggerated fear, though your delighted grin betrayed your true feelings. "The big bad alpha is after me!"
"You have no idea," he replied, his voice dropping to that dangerous register as he surged through the water after you.
You squealed again, half-swimming, half-splashing as you tried to reach the other side of the pool. But Hongjoong was faster, stronger, and far more determined. Just as your fingers touched the pool wall, his hands found your waist, spinning you around and pinning you gently but firmly against the smooth surface.
"Caught you," he murmured, his body caging you against the wall, the golden glow still evident in his eyes as he looked down at you.
The playful chase had left you both breathing hard, water droplets clinging to his dark hair and running down his face. In the underwater lighting, he looked almost ethereal—dangerous and beautiful in equal measure. The space between you had disappeared entirely, his chest almost touching yours, his hands still resting on your waist beneath the water.
The air crackled with tension that had nothing to do with the game you'd been playing and everything to do with the weeks of carefully controlled attraction that had led to this moment. Your eyes dropped to his lips, then back to his golden-flecked gaze, and before rational thought could intervene, you were pulling him down to you.
The kiss was electric, months of unspoken desire finally finding expression. Hongjoong's response was immediate and intense—a low growl rumbling from his chest as his arms came around you, pressing you more firmly against the pool wall. Your legs found their way around his waist instinctively, your body responding to his alpha presence with an intensity that should have alarmed you.
His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, teeth grazing your lower lip in a way that made you gasp and arch against him. The sound seemed to drive him wild—another growl escaping as his hands tangled in your wet hair, his body grinding against yours in the weightless embrace of the water.
You lost yourself in the sensation, in the feeling of finally giving in to what had been building between you for so long.
"Hongjoong," you breathed against his lips, and the sound of his name in your voice seemed to undo him completely.
He responded to his name with a growl that vibrated through his chest and into yours, the sound purely alpha in its possessiveness. His hands slid from your hair to cup your face, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.
"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked, his voice rough with want and something deeper. The golden flecks in his eyes seemed to pulse in the underwater lighting, hypnotic and predatory. "What you've been doing to all of us?"
Your omega preened at the admission, satisfaction flooding through you at concrete proof of your effect on the pack leader. "Tell me," you whispered, your legs tightening around his waist as you felt him shudder against you.
Instead of answering with words, he showed you. His mouth found that sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, and the sensation of his lips and teeth against your pulse point made you see stars. A soft whimper escaped your lips—a sound that had him pressing you harder against the pool wall.
"That sound," he groaned against your throat. "You have no idea what those little noises do to me."
His confession sent heat racing through your veins. The knowledge that your responses affected him so strongly, that the pack leader himself was losing control because of you, was intoxicating beyond reason.
"Show me," you challenged breathlessly, your hands sliding over the wet planes of his chest. "Show me what I do to you."
Hongjoong's eyes flashed at your bold request, the golden glow intensifying as his alpha responded to your invitation. His hands slid down your sides, tracing the curves of your body through the water with reverent touches that made you shiver despite the warm temperature.
"Dangerous words, Tulip," he murmured, but his touch belied any hesitation. "You sure you can handle the consequences?"
Your only response was to pull him closer, your lips finding his again in a kiss that was answer enough. The barriers you'd both carefully maintained were crumbling, three weeks of mounting tension finally reaching its breaking point.
The privacy of the pool area felt like its own universe. The underwater lights cast everything in an ethereal blue glow, making the moment feel dreamlike and removed from reality.
Hongjoong's hands continued their reverent exploration of your body, each touch deliberate and worshipful as he mapped every curve through the warm water. When his fingers finally found their destination, sliding between your thighs, the discovery he made there drew a sound from him that was purely primal.
"Oh, fuck," he groaned, the curse rough and broken as he felt the unmistakable evidence of your body's response to him. Even through the water, the slickness was obvious, and the realization that you wanted him this desperately seemed to shatter what remained of his control.
The sound he made—part growl, part whimper, entirely alpha losing his mind over your readiness—sent electricity shooting through your nervous system. Your back arched against the pool wall as his fingers explored with gentle reverence, his touch careful but insistent.
"You're so..." he started, then seemed to lose the ability to form words as his forehead dropped to rest against yours. His breathing was ragged, his entire body trembling with the effort of restraint. "How are you so perfect?"
Your only response was a soft whimper that echoed across the water, the sound making his eyes flash gold again as his alpha responded to your obvious pleasure. The knowledge that you were affecting the famously controlled pack leader this strongly was almost as intoxicating as his actual touch.
Hongjoong’s finger slid over you clit, drawing slow, lazy circles as you moaned into his mouth. You were shaky and he’d barley touched you.
"We should..." he breathed against your lips, though his actions contradicted his words as his touch became more purposeful.
"Should what?" you managed, your voice barely more than a whisper.
"Stop," he finished, though the word carried no conviction whatsoever. "This is..."
"Perfect," you completed for him, and the soft moan that escaped him at your declaration suggested he agreed completely.
Your hands, emboldened by his touch and the way he was losing himself in you, began their own exploration down the planes of his chest. The water created a dreamlike resistance to your movements as your fingers traced over defined muscle, following the path downward with deliberate intent.
When you finally reached your destination, slipping beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs to wrap your fingers around him, the contact drew a sharp intake of breath from both of you. He was hard and wanting, evidence of just how much this moment was affecting him, and the realization made you whimper softly against his shoulder.
"God, Tulip," he groaned, his voice strained and desperate as your touch sent shockwaves through his system. His hands tightened on your waist, fingers pressing into your skin as he fought to maintain some semblance of control.
The feeling of him in your hand, solid and real and desperately wanting you, made your omega sing with satisfaction. You held in your primal need to purr with satisfaction, even with your hazy mind you didn’t want to slip any omega traits.
As he slipped a finger inside you, you bit onto his shoulder to hold in your sounds. Your hand moved slowly, teasingly along his shaft, thumb circling his tip.
His response was immediate and intense—a low growl rumbling from deep in his chest as his hips moved involuntarily into your touch. The sound was purely alpha, primal and possessive in a way that made heat pool in your belly.
"You're going to kill me," he breathed against your throat, his voice rough with want as your gentle exploration continued.
The golden glow in his eyes had intensified, the alpha in him responding to your bold touch with an intensity that should have been frightening but instead felt like coming home. Every exhale against your skin sent shivers through you, every small sound of pleasure he made in response to your ministrations feeding the growing need in your core.
"Don't stop," he pleaded softly, the vulnerability in his voice making your heart race even faster.
"Holy shit!"
The startled exclamation from the pool deck shattered the moment like glass. You and Hongjoong broke apart, both turning toward the source of the interruption to find Wooyoung standing frozen by the sliding doors, his mouth hanging open in shock.
For a moment, nobody moved. You remained pinned between Hongjoong's body and the pool wall, both of you breathing hard, while Wooyoung stared in what appeared to be equal parts amazement and indignation.
"This," Wooyoung finally said, pointing dramatically at the two of you, "this is exactly what I wanted to do the other night when I saw Tulip swimming, but Seonghwa-hyung scolded me and said I needed to 'respect her privacy' and 'maintain appropriate boundaries!'"
Hongjoong chuckled, though he didn't move away from you, his body still shielding you from full view. "Well, technically—"
"Oh no," Wooyoung interrupted, turning toward the house with mock outrage written across his features. "No technicalities! This is pure hypocrisy!" He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted toward the main house, "SEONGHWA-HYUNG! COME SCOLD THE CAPTAIN! HE'S DOING EXACTLY WHAT YOU SAID I COULDN'T DO!"
The sound of his voice echoing across the property made you bury your face against Hongjoong's shoulder in mortification, though you couldn't suppress the laughter that bubbled up at the absurdity of the situation.
"You're going to wake the entire neighborhood," Hongjoong told Wooyoung, though his voice carried more amusement than actual concern.
"Good!" Wooyoung replied unrepentantly. "Everyone should know about this flagrant double standard! Where's the fairness? I demand equal swimming rights!"
The sound of the sliding door opening with more force than necessary announced Seonghwa's arrival before his exasperated voice carried across the pool deck.
"Jung Wooyoung, what in the world are you shouting about? It's nearly midnight and the neighbors—" Seonghwa's lecture cut off abruptly as his eyes landed on you and Hongjoong still pressed together in the pool, both obviously disheveled from your passionate encounter.
A deep blush immediately colored Seonghwa's cheeks, spreading down his neck as he took in the scene—your legs still wrapped around Hongjoong's waist, his hands on your bare skin, both of your lips swollen and hair mussed from the intensity of your kiss. For just a moment, his eyes flashed that telltale golden glow, his alpha nature responding to the charged scene before him.
"I—" Seonghwa started, his voice slightly strangled, before he visibly collected himself, the golden fade from his eyes as his expression shifted to stern disapproval. "Kim Hongjoong! What do you think you're doing?"
"I can explain," Hongjoong began, though he made no immediate move to release you, his protective instincts clearly warring with the need to face his pack mate's scolding.
"See!" Wooyoung exclaimed triumphantly, pointing between Seonghwa and the pool. "See how his eyes went all glowy too? But when I wanted to swim with Tulip, suddenly I'm the inappropriate one!"
You couldn't help the giggle that escaped at the absurdity of the situation—being caught in a compromising position while Wooyoung used it as evidence for his case about swimming inequality. The sound seemed to break whatever spell had been holding everyone frozen.
"I should probably go change," you said softly to Hongjoong, your cheeks burning with embarrassment but unable to suppress your amusement at the chaos you'd inadvertently caused.
Hongjoong nodded reluctantly, his hands sliding away from your waist as you unwound your legs from around him. "We should talk," he murmured quietly, meant only for your ears.
"Later," you agreed, your voice barely a whisper as you moved toward the pool steps.
As you climbed out of the pool, water streaming from your body in the soft lighting, you were acutely aware of three pairs of alpha eyes tracking your movement. Seonghwa's blush deepened as he quickly averted his gaze, while Hongjoong made no attempt to hide his appreciation. Wooyoung, however, seemed to see an opportunity.
"You know what?" Wooyoung announced, suddenly moving toward the guesthouse with clear intent. "I think Tulip might need some help getting dried off. You know, making sure she doesn't catch a chill or anything. I'm very helpful with towels!"
"Oh no, you don't," Hongjoong said immediately, moving to get out of the pool.
"Jung Wooyoung, absolutely not," Seonghwa added sternly, stepping between Wooyoung and your retreating figure.
Wooyoung stopped short, his mouth falling open in renewed outrage. "Are you KIDDING me right now?" He threw his hands up dramatically. "This is exactly what I'm talking about! Hongjoong-hyung gets to make out with our beautiful Tulip in the pool, but I can't even take a innocent swim? Where is the equality? Where is the justice?"
"There's a difference—" Seonghwa began.
"Between what?" Wooyoung interrupted, his voice rising with theatrical indignation. "Between him kissing her and me wanting to swim? If anything, swimming is more innocent! I wasn't planning to ravish anyone! I just wanted to enjoy the water like a normal person!"
You paused at the entrance to the guesthouse, glancing back at the increasingly absurd scene playing out on the pool deck. Even in your embarrassment, you couldn't help but be charmed by Wooyoung's dramatic defense of his swimming rights.
"Wooyoung," you called out, causing all three men to turn toward you. "Maybe tomorrow we can all swim together. You know, during normal daylight hours when it's less... complicated."
Wooyoung's expression immediately brightened. "Really? You promise?"
"I promise," you confirmed with a smile, then looked pointedly at Seonghwa and Hongjoong. "And I trust that both of you will behave appropriately in broad daylight."
Seonghwa cleared his throat, his blush still evident. "Of course. Appropriate behavior. Absolutely."
Hongjoong just smiled that dangerous smile that had gotten you into this situation in the first place. "I'll be on my best behavior," he said, though his tone suggested his definition of 'best behavior' might be different from Seonghwa's.
"This is still discrimination," Wooyoung muttered, but he seemed placated by your promise. "But I suppose I can wait for proper swimming justice until tomorrow."
With a final amused shake of your head, you slipped into the guesthouse, leaving the three alphas to sort out their pool politics on their own. Through the glass door, you could hear Seonghwa beginning what sounded like a very serious lecture about appropriate boundaries, while Wooyoung continued to interject with increasingly creative complaints about the unfairness of the situation.
---
The sliding door to the main house had barely closed behind the three alphas when Wooyoung's voice rang out dramatically through the living room.
"Everyone! EVERYONE! Come witness the hypocrisy! Come see the injustice!" he called, his voice carrying the theatrical flair of a Shakespearean actor delivering a soliloquy. "Our dear captain has been stealing our poor assistant's innocence in the pool!"
Hongjoong groaned, running his hands through his still-damp hair as he followed Wooyoung and Seonghwa into the house. "Of all people, it had to be Wooyoung who found us," he muttered, shooting a pointed look at the dramatizing alpha.
Seonghwa couldn't help the chuckle that escaped at Hongjoong's expression—part mortification, part resignation. "You did choose a rather public location for your... moment," he pointed out with barely suppressed amusement.
The sound of multiple footsteps thundered down the hallway as the other members, apparently having returned from dinner while the pool drama was unfolding, converged on the living room with varying degrees of curiosity and alarm.
"What's Wooyoung shouting about now?" Yunho asked, appearing first with Jongho close behind, both looking slightly concerned by the volume of Wooyoung's announcements.
San emerged from the kitchen, a late-night snack in hand, his eyes immediately taking in the scene—Hongjoong's damp hair and flushed cheeks, Seonghwa's knowing expression, and Wooyoung's practically vibrating with excitement to share his news.
"Stealing innocence?" Yeosang inquired dryly, settling into his usual chair with the patience of someone accustomed to Wooyoung's dramatics. "That seems rather serious."
Mingi appeared last, his tall frame filling the doorway as his sharp eyes assessed the situation. "Why are you all wet?" he asked Hongjoong directly, though his gaze flickered toward the pool area visible through the glass doors.
"BECAUSE," Wooyoung announced with theatrical flourish, spinning to face his audience, "our fearless leader was caught red-handed—or should I say, lip-locked—with our beautiful Tulip in the pool! Making out like teenagers while the rest of us were denied even basic swimming privileges!"
A collective sharp intake of breath filled the room. San nearly choked on his snack, while Yunho's eyes widened comically. Jongho's mouth fell open, and even Yeosang's typically composed expression showed genuine surprise.
"You were what?" Mingi asked, his voice dropping to that dangerous low register that indicated his alpha was taking very keen interest in this development.
Hongjoong sighed, accepting that there was no escaping this interrogation. "We were swimming. Things got... carried away."
"Carried away!" Wooyoung exclaimed, throwing his hands up dramatically. "That's one way to put it! I walk out to enjoy some fresh air and find our captain with his tongue down Tulip's throat, her legs wrapped around his waist, looking like they were about to—"
"Wooyoung," Seonghwa warned, his voice carrying clear authority. "That's enough detail."
"But the injustice!" Wooyoung continued, undeterred. "When I wanted to swim with her that first night, suddenly I was inappropriate! When I tried to help her dry off tonight, suddenly I was overstepping! But Captain gets to play tongue hockey in the pool and that's perfectly fine?"
San was now openly grinning, clearly delighted by this turn of events. "So our Tulip finally cracked and jumped our leader? I'm impressed."
"Actually," Hongjoong said, a small smile playing at his lips despite his embarrassment, "I think we both jumped each other."
"Details!" Yunho demanded, settling onto the couch with the eager expression of someone settling in for a good story. "We need all the details!"
"You absolutely do not need all the details," Seonghwa interjected firmly, though his own curiosity was evident in his expression.
Jongho, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, finally spoke up. "So... what does this mean? For all of us?"
The question hung in the air, suddenly shifting the mood from playful interrogation to something more serious. Everyone seemed to understand the weight of what Jongho was really asking—because whatever was happening between you and Hongjoong wasn't occurring in isolation. The connection, the pull, the inexplicable bond they'd all been feeling was something that involved all of them.
Mingi moved further into the room, his expression intense. "Did she... did she say anything? About what this means?"
Hongjoong shook his head. "We didn't exactly get to the talking part before Wooyoung made his dramatic entrance."
"I prefer the term 'timely intervention,'" Wooyoung corrected with a sniff. "Who knows what inappropriate activities might have continued without my presence!"
"You mean the same inappropriate activities you've been trying to initiate for weeks?" Yeosang observed mildly, earning a guilty look from Wooyoung.
San leaned forward, his expression more serious now. "But really, hyung, what are we doing here? We can't all pretend we don't feel it anymore—whatever this connection is with her."
"It's getting stronger," Yunho admitted quietly. "Whatever's happening, it's not going away. If anything, it's intensifying."
Mingi nodded in agreement. "My alpha's been going crazy lately. Especially around her. And tonight, knowing she was in that pool..." He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.
Seonghwa, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up. "Which brings us back to Jongho's question." He looked directly at Hongjoong. "What does this mean? For our pack, for her position here, for whatever this bond is that we're all feeling?"
Hongjoong was quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with the implications. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of his leadership role. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I know we can't keep pretending nothing's happening. And after tonight..." He paused, touching his lips unconsciously. "I don't think any of us want to pretend anymore."
"So what do we do?" San asked. "Do we tell her how we all feel? Do we ask her what she wants?"
"Do we find out if she feels it too?" Yunho added.
"Oh, she feels it," Wooyoung said with confidence. "Trust me, that kiss wasn't one-sided. Our Tulip is just as affected as we are."
Mingi's expression darkened slightly. "But what if she's not ready? What if this complicates everything for her?"
"Then we wait," Seonghwa said firmly. "We support her, we're honest about our feelings if she asks, but we don't pressure her. Whatever this is—mate bond, pack bond, whatever—it has to be her choice too."
Hongjoong nodded, appreciating Seonghwa's wisdom. "Agreed. But no more pretending we don't feel anything. If she asks, we're honest. And if opportunities arise naturally..." He shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips. "Well, we'll see what happens."
"Opportunities like midnight pool sessions?" Wooyoung asked hopefully.
"Opportunities like being genuine with her about who we are and what we're feeling," Seonghwa corrected, though his tone was gentle. "Not ambushing her with towel assistance."
"My towel assistance is top quality," Wooyoung protested, but he was grinning now, the earlier dramatics giving way to genuine excitement about this new development.
As the conversation continued, each member processing what this shift meant for their group dynamic, none of them noticed the small figure in the guesthouse window who had been unable to resist watching the animated discussion in the main house—or the way your hand had unconsciously drifted to the scent blocker behind your ear, your omega instincts stirring restlessly as if sensing the alpha pack's collective focus on you, even from a distance.
Next>>
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#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez smut#jeong yunho#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#san x reader#jongho x reader#yeosang x reader#kang yeosang#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#song mingi#choi san#choi jongho#ateez ot8#alpha beta omega#a/b/o dynamics#a/b/o#ateez angst#omega reader#omegaverse
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Note: I'm using the translator because I'm from Brazil but I love your arts and I wanted to make a request
Could you make a Y/N witch? or if you prefer to draw just cookies, a Beast version since in the last post it was an Ancient version pls
"All things are difficult before they are easy..."

May i introduce you to, The Witch Of Patience, Y/N!
She is one of the most beloved and a wondrous witches among the group of witches! Many says that she had been the one whom was most dedicated to the world of cookies, sharing them life and patience itself.
She has the closest relationship to The Witch Of Light! A loyal and great trustworthy companion! Y/N is a huge inspiration for the witches to continue going on forward with their duty.
Y/N puts a huge amount of effort into giving the world of cookies hope, giving them the patience and tolerance they needed. She attends every matter about the cookies, the rise and fall of the 5 great cookies as such.
She had only one singular wish, is to deliver patience and peace to every being... to see them thrive with hope. For the darkness to wander far away from the peaceful world.
She and the other witches all worked together, creating a wonderful world, shielding it from the unfortunate, the chaos and mischief, the darkness.
But... their efforts and hard works soon came into a watse, as just one singular prideful witch, had ruined everything they had worked so hard on.

It is said, that the witches all crumbled into mere powder, their souls slowly drifted away into the wind. Yet, The Witch Of Light used her very own power to put their souls into cookies, fuelled by her very own Life essences.
The witches all landed and scattered all around the cookie world as cookies, the world they have made, full of lively desserts and pastries. They all have the chance to witness their very own creations thrive and fall, civilization rise and flourished.
Yet, they have fallen into a long slumber, drifted into a deep sleep all across the world. Losing ther chance at seeing the cookie world. They waited to finally be awaken from their sleep for so long...
Will they ever be awaken?

In the abandoned halls within the castle walls, a seeker of truth has entered, wishing to seek out the true truth of the past of the castle.
It seems, her arrival to the castle walls has awaken the cookies from their forever slumber, as they finally opened their eyes, standing up once more.
In their very own world they created, born from The Witch Of Light's wishes.
The cookie of patience has finally, been awoken.


"I will protect this world, with all my might."

It is said that, if you ever feel an unusual amount of peace and patience in your dough... she might be nearby, watching over everything around.
She wanders all around Earthbread, exploring every bits and pieces of this world, seeking her companions, and wanting to witness the world of desserts thrive with her own eyes.
Every where she goes, she delivers patience to all the cookies and beings around her, filling them with a newfound hope and perseverance.
If you wish to seek her for yourself, you must accomplish it. Remember, patience is the key to finding her.

#cookie run x reader#crk x reader#cookie run#y/n cookie#cookie run x you#y/n#x reader#cookie run witch’s castle#character design#character x reader#cookie run kingdom#cookie run kingdom x reader#cookie run witch's castle x reader#art#artwork#my artwork
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Collision
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, blood, injury, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you find yourself in the hands of unexpected saviours after an accident.
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Helmut Zemo
Note: Ugh, here we go.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
A loud bang awakes you.
You're not in your bed. Not sleeping. That cloudy feeling in your head combines with the haze of dust across your vision. The same ash coats your skin, suffocating as you writhe beneath the weight that pins you.
You moan and cough, dizzy and dazed as your mind turns slowly. You reach up instinctively to drag yourself free of whatever is on you. The effort does little more than pull more scraps of plaster towards you.
You fall flat and wheeze. What the heck happened? You blink and try to wipe the grime from your face.
It comes in patches. The big building, the interview, your borrowed heels. The desperation that's now turned dire as you stare at the singed ceiling.
"Dammit," a voice snarls as there's a clatter. Some metal thumps and there's a hiss. "You goddamn--" the man stops himself. "I said no bombs."
"You said you wanted a way in, soldat," the lilted slither returns.
"Don't call me that. I'll break your jaw," the deeper voice warns. "I doubt that thing you're wearing will protect you. You look stupid."
"Well, forgive me for having taste," the other man snickers. "You got what you needed--"
"I don't need all this. Do you have any idea the kinda shit that's gonna rain down on me. You're lucky this place was as shell--"
Your throat clogs with ash and you cough again. You try to wet your lips but even your tongue is pasty with the stuff. Their voices silence. You listen but only hear one pair of steps.
A shadow appears on the other side of the lumber and metal that traps you. Another from your other side you don't hear. You raise your palm helplessly to shield yourself. Blood covers your fingers, one of them bent to the side. You whimper and choke again.
"Shit, I told you--" The bare-faced man snarls at the one in the strange purple mask.
"She was not in my calculations," the other rebuffs.
"Not in your--" the other huffs and stops himself. He drops to one knee over you. "Miss, miss, can you hear me?"
You try to answer and your voice comes out like a fizzle. He shakes his head and turns to sneer at the other man. He stands and lifts the thick pillar from over you, clearing away the rest of the mess.
"Little help," he snips at the other.
"I think you got it," the other pulls a thin thread free of his glove.
"Miss," the other man kneels again, feeling around his belt. He frees a canteen and searches his pockets. He shrugs and pours the water over your face. He wipes the dust away with his hand then put the neck above your lips. "Don't swallow, you gotta rinse this stuff out."
He fills your mouth and you gag. He hurriedly sits you up and you hack out the liquid with a rattle. Your arms hangs at your left side and you grunt at the pang in your bones.
"Zemo! You just gonna watch."
"Yes," the other man answers smugly. "What are we going to do with the creature?"
"You're serious?"
"I am... on the lamb, as you say," the other shrugs.
"Get the car," the man holding you up growls.
"Wh-what..." you can barely speak for the pain. Your head droops as the room tilts in your vision and you stare down at the red stain across your pressed blouse. Blood. Your blood.
"Go!" The man yells.
The footsteps of the other scamper off beneath his grumble. The man lifts you as you put your head back and scream in horror. You feel the blood draining out of you.
"Shh, stop," he hisses as he walks over the piles of rubble. "Don't do that, alright? You gotta calm down."
"B-b-but..." you babble and put your hands to your side, feeling the warm stickiness.
"That's it, doll, put pressure on it." He girds as he nears the blown-out wall.
You whine and quake as you obey him. You tuck your chin down and focus on containing the flow. An engine whirs up and he angles you around to open the door. He slides you into the backset and follows you.
"Go," he orders the driver.
"Oh, Barnes," the man he called Zemo tuts. "Not such a cold heart after all."
"Be quiet," he snips. Barnes?
He slides something free of the pocket in the door and opens the small chest. He takes out gauze and folds it in layers.
"Let me get a look," he touches your hand with his. His fingers are forged in metal. Huh?
Your hand slips and he wipes with the gauze. He hums as he leans in, parting the torn fabric around the gash.
"Not awful," her mutters.
"Dying," you murmur.
"No," he insists. "Zemo, what are you doing? Taking in the sights?"
"Be calm. It wouldn't do to draw attention," he insists.
The other man growls again but keeps tending to you. He tugs your shirt up above your chest and wraps your middle, padding around the cut with a thick layer of cotton. He knots it tight then puts his fingers to your neck.
"Pulse is strong," he says then feels along your arm. You cry out as he touches left. "Can you move it?"
You try and shriek again.
"Dear man, her screams are rather distracting."
"Shut up." Barnes' lips thin. "Alright, uh," he unzips his jacket and slips his hand under, fishing around. "Just relax, doll. I got something will help you until we get you fixed up."
He slides out a metal tube. You squint, your lashes still covered in dust. A sharp point pops out the end. Before you can react, he jabs it into your upper arm. A coolness spreads through your vein and tingles over you, washing out the agony.
"Zemo..." Barnes hisses as your eyes drift upward into the sockets. "... you goddamn idiot."
💞
Swaths of black and grey fold into each other in the abstraction of your subconscious. You forget the ruin, the blood, the fear. You forget yourself as you sink into the pit.
A glimmer of light breaks the void. A thin line between your eyelids. Your skull pulses and you feel as if you're moving. You open your eyes completely. You're still. Laying on your back, propped up slightly, in a king bed.
Where are you? The world around you is unfamiliar. The tall posts of the bed frame, the canopy pinned back behind them, the silky duvet and sheets. For all the comfort, you are entirely uncomfortable.
Your shoulder hurts, your ribs and side too, your face is thrumming, and your finger is on fire. You look down at your right hand. Your pink is wrapped and splinted. Your left shoulder is achy, your arm bent into a sling. The blankets are folded right beneath your elbow, hiding the rest of your injuries.
You remember the earth shaking, the dust, the voices. Those men...
You peer around as slowly the edges of your vision sharpen. There's a large painting showing a scene of ribaldry, men and women from another era sloshing wine without modesty. The furniture is antique and polished, well-kept, the wall-paper vintage but not gauche.
Next to you is a folded paper standing like a pyramid. Next to it, a golden bell. The card reads; ring me.
You whimper at just the thought of moving. You don't even try your left arm. You reach and grab the handle, your pinky kept straight in the splint. You tinkle the bell and the noise rattles in your head. You put it down to quiet the sharp noise.
You wait. You don't hear anything. Nothing changes.
You close your eyes and ease against the pillows. You hurt so bad. You wish you could just go back to sleep but the pain keeps you restless.
There's a creak. You look out from beneath your lashes as the door opens. A man enters. Brown hair, browner eyes, and a permanent smirk written into his thin lips.
"Darling, you are alive!" He raises his glass of dark liquid and slurps bawdily. "Cheers to you."
You blink. You know that voice. The buzzing in your ears clears.
"Zemo?"
"You remember!" He winks triumphantly. "Ah, but you must be miserable. Scotch?"
He comes closer and offers the glass. He wears a silken robe that gives a peek at his fluffy chest hair. You frown and shake your head, grimacing at the ripples of pain.
"I do recommend it. In your state, especially."
"Zemo," his voice rolls like silt in the air. He backs away and turns to watch the other man enter. The one with the metal arm.
"Barnes," you croak.
He stops short and looks at Zemo. "Bucky," he corrects you.
You can only nod. Just once before you moan and quiver against the pillows.
"It must be wearing off," he shakes his head and approaches. He opens the drawer of the nightstand. He takes out another metal tube. "Half-dose this time. Don't wanna make a habit."
He pokes your arm again. Too quick for you to react. You sigh as the soothing floe overrides your pain.
"You do like them sedated, eh?" The other man teases.
"Why are you in here?" Bucky spins on his cohort. "Hm? And why aren't you dressed?"
"You should be praising me. I was quick to respond for her call for help. I did not even fully draw my bath. I came at once."
"With scotch?"
"Well, forgive me for enjoying the finer things."
"You are unbelievable."
"Me? You are the one who absconded with a casualty."
"I did not--"
"You should've taken her to hospital."
"You said--"
"You don't usually listen to me," Zemo counters coyly. Your eyelids droop as their argument turns to low drones in your itchy ears.
"Doll," Bucky startles you as suddenly he's beside you, sat on the edge of the bed with a glowing glass of water. "You need to drink some. Eat too."
You gurgle senselessly. He leans the brim on your lips and slowly tips it into your mouth. He gentle rubs your throat to make your swallow. It's almost soothing.
"We're just gonna get you back to new then..." he trails off into a sigh. "Wasn't supposed to happen." He trades the glass for a bowl. "Soup."
He offers the spoon. You bat your lashes and open your mouth numbly. He feeds you the warm broth. You close your mouth and gulp with effort.
"Sorry, ya know? It's not-- not what I'm doing-- I thought--" he shakes his head. "Does it matter what I say? Look at you."
You don't say anything. You can't. He feeds you another bite and you shakily move your right hand towards him. You touch the hem of his shirt. He looks down in confusion.
"What?" He furrows his brow, blue eyes swimming like water sparkling over the coast.
"Know... you." You utter as your brain flickers.
He shrugs and scoops up more soup. As he hovers it before you, you groan and lift your hand to touch his. You brush the metal plates of the heel cradling the bowl.
"Hero." You say as the thoughts slowly piece together.
He sighs and looks down. His jaw clenches and his nose flares. He glances over his shoulder.
"Trying," he utters.
You keep your hand up, shifting it to look at your pinky. You frown. He does too. He rests the spoon in the bowl and gently guides your hand down.
"Tried to fix you up," he spoons up more soup. "Gonna be a bit."
You take another bite. It's better the more you eat. Not as stringent. Your stomach slowly adjusts.
You watch him as you eat. That seems to make him nervous. You remember him from pictures and videos. On the news. In history books.
"Bucky," you say.
"Just like I said, doll," he affirms.
You nod and open your mouth again. He puts the spoon in and you suck it clean. Now he watches you.
"Sorry about my... about Zemo."
You shake your head and wave weakly. You push your hand on the bed and try to sit up. His eyes flash.
"Woah, don't-- you gotta take it easy."
You fall back and whine. He sets the bowl down and turns to help you, sitting you up higher as he adjusts the pillows. He draws back, his hands brushing your sides and he sits again.
"Doll, you need anything, you say so." He eyes you with concern. "Already did enough damage."
#bucky barnes#helmut zemo#dark bucky barnes#dark!bucky barnes#dark zemo#dark!zemo#zemo x reader#bucky barnes x reader#series#marvel#mcu#fic#dark!fic#dark fic#avengers#captain america#winter soldier#falcon and the winter soldier#collision
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♡︎ part7. picnic
・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader
・❥・ summary: you`ve planned a surprise for Vi, wanting to ask her a serious question.
・❥・ genre: smut + grumpy x sunshine
・❥・ word count: 1.7k
✎ warnings: only fluff tbh
RIDE ON ME masterlist



the last week had been simply amazing. you and Vi enjoyed every moment together. you were constantly surprised that beneath her strong, independent exterior, there was a tender side—a girl who dreamed of love. her outward appearance was like a shield, protecting her from the outside world. yes, she could be cold, closed off, and sarcastic, but with you, she was trying to open up. you understood how much effort that took for Vi, so you valued it immensely.
at the university, your friends were shocked by the recent turn of events. “girl, I didn't even manage to finish my homework, and you not only found yourself a girlfriend, had fun with her, but also aced today's project. do you teach a time management course?” - your friend laughed.
but not everyone took the news so lightheartedly. a few days ago, Vi explained to Kate that they wouldn't be able to see each other anymore. from Kate's angry expression that you'd seen in the campus halls, you figured that she understood the reason. several times, you wanted to talk to her but couldn't find the words. it would have been better to speak to her alone, though, because with her entourage around, that conversation would be even harder. when you told Vi that you wanted to talk to Kate, she just stroked your cheek and said, - “you don't owe her an explanation, cupcake. we weren’t together, you didn’t break up any relationship.”
however, you thought differently. yes, they had never officially been a couple, but there was something between them, and you knew it mattered to Kate. besides, you hadn’t apologized for the scene in the café on the first day, so a conversation was overdue.
today was another Friday, and you were excited for the weekend because you planned a surprise for Vi. you wanted to show her how much these relationships meant to you. after a lot of thought, you decided to invite her on a picnic. it might not be exactly her style, but it would be more fun than sitting in a restaurant. you didn’t want to spend the last warm days of the year indoors, so you prepared everything like in a movie: a basket, a blanket, a few pillows, and some tasty snacks. your eyes sparkled with excitement, and you couldn’t wait for the evening.
your phone buzzed. "I miss you. when do your classes end?". the text made your smile so wide that you had to cover it with your hand.
"at three. by the way, don’t plan anything for the evening. I have a surprise for you," you replied, waiting for her response.
"please tell me it's your delicious signature carbonara," Vi's text made you laugh, remembering your first evening together. "how much things have changed," - you thought to yourself.
"no, but thanks for the compliment. wait until tonight, and you'll find out," you answered and put your phone back in your bag.
the last class felt like it was dragging on forever, you couldn't wait to finally run home and hug Vi. when the lecture ended, you threw all your things into your bag and rushed towards the exit. as you walked down the hallway, you noticed that everyone was turning to look at you with a curious expression. "did Kate spread some rumor about me?" - was the first thought that crossed your mind, "but I don't have time for that."
finally, the fresh air hit your face - it was pleasant and warm, the sun was shining, and you felt reassured that the picnic was definitely a great idea. at the entrance of the campus, your friends stood with strange smiles on their faces.
“what?” - you asked in surprise. – “is there something on my face? why is everyone staring?”
“well, technically... she could end up there,” - your friends burst out laughing at the joke, while you looked at them in confusion.
“are you going to explain, or should I wait until you're done laughing?" - you said, a bit irritated, demanding an answer.
“someone's here to pick you up,” - one of them winked at you.
“who?”
one of your friends nodded toward the bench across from the campus. your mouth literally fell open in surprise. Vi. "what is she doing here?". without wasting a second, you quickly said goodbye to your friends and headed in her direction.
“don't forget to use protection, kids!” - one of your classmates called out behind you, provoking another wave of laughter from your friends.
finally, you reached Vi, and she was smiling at you. her hair blew slightly in the wind, the sun highlighting its beautiful color. she was dressed in black jeans, her white top, and a red leather jacket. "wow."
“hi, you look amazing,” - you said sincerely, touching her cheek.
“you look stunning too,” - she said, taking your hand and pulling you close.
“I hope you don't mind me coming unannounced. I missed you and decided to pick you up,” - she said, gently stroking your fingers.
a smile spread across your face as you locked eyes with Vi. “not at all," - you replied, leaning in to give her a soft kiss on the lips. she was incredible.
“when do I get to see my surprise?” - she asked. "oh, the picnic, right! we need to hurry to catch the sunset."
“I need to stop by home, change, and grab everything we need, and then we'll head to the park,” - you explained, trying not to give away too many details.
“I can't wait,” - she said, kissing you gently on the cheek, which made you smile even more.
on the way home, you held hands as she told you about her training. Vi had found a job teaching kids boxing. your heart was warmed by how easily she connected with the little ones.
“I know you still haven’t found a job. if you want, we could work together. there's an open manager position at the boxing club. I know it's not related to your field, but the pay is decent,” - she said, squeezing your hand a little tighter.
“that sounds great, but...” - you paused for a moment before continuing, “I’m worried that you might get tired of me. you’d already see me every day at home.”
she stopped and took your face in her hands. “cupcake, you could never bore me, don't even think about that,” - she said, stroking your cheek with her thumb. “besides, I can always take a break from you when you're at university,” - she added with a wink and a smile.
“I hate you,” - you laughed, looking into her eyes.
“I think it's the opposite,” - she whispered softly before kissing you. the kiss was passionate, yet so warm.
when you got home, you gathered your things and changed into more comfortable clothes - a simple tracksuit, sneakers, and your hair pulled back into a bun. when you came out into the hallway, Vi was sitting on the couch, her elbow resting on the back of it. she looked at you slowly, smiling as she tilted her head slightly to the side, and said - “you’re the most beautiful girl in the whole world.”
“Vi, are you kidding? I’m literally just in a tracksuit with no hairstyle,” - you said, smiling in disbelief.
to Vi, it didn't matter whether you were lying in her bed naked, your hair all messed up, or dressed in a "simple tracksuit" - to her, you were perfect. she gave you one more look, filled with unmistakable admiration, and then you both took each other's hands and headed towards the park.
after laying everything out as it should be, you pulled Vi onto the blanket with you. the weather was incredible, a gentle breeze tickled your face, the sun warmed your body, and the rustling leaves added a sense of calm. you offered her the snacks you had prepared beforehand, and the two of you started talking. the conversation was simple and easy, never once did you have to plan your dialogue in advance, the words just flowed naturally, and she listened attentively. it felt like you had been talking for ages when Vi looked up at the sky, her face glowing beautifully under the starlight. you hadn’t even noticed it had gotten dark. this must be what it's like to talk to the right person - no need to structure the conversation or tailor your words for a response.
“thank you,” - you said suddenly, the words slipping from your lips.
“for what, cupcake?” - she asked, turning her gaze from the stars back to you. “it seems like I should be thanking you for such a wonderful evening surprise that you planned for us.”
“thank you for being you,” - you said with a warm smile. "I think it's time to tell her the real reason I planned this evening."
“I know we haven’t really talked seriously about what’s going on between us,” - you said, taking her hand – “but I want to tell you that in the short time we’ve spent together, you’ve become one of the most important person in my life.” a smile spread across her face, and she squeezed your hand tighter.
“I don't want this to be just a fling. I want it to be something serious. do you...” - you felt nervous as you approached the question you wanted to ask. “do you want to be my girlfriend?”
she seemed a little surprised, but she held your hand close to her, studying your face. there was a brief pause, and you felt a bit uneasy. "maybe I misread the signals, maybe...?"
“yes,” - she said, her smile practically glowing. “I would be the happiest person in the world if you were my girlfriend.”
Vi pulled you close to her. she kissed you, not letting go of your hand.
“this is the best evening of my life”
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Idea by @idfkeatdust
I originally wanted the reader to be a child of Hestia but only to find out she doesn’t really have any kids. (From what I’ve read) So that’s out of the question. Love that for me 😂
Also Luke acting like a big bro to the younger campers lives in my head rent free. This is too long and probably doesn’t make much sense but I was like half asleep whilst writing this and unable to figure out how to end this seamlessly, so blame that and shitty writing.
Luke vividly remembered the exact moment he fell for you as though it were yesterday, how could he not when it was one of the only things that brought him any semblance of happiness and normality within the typically grim life of a demi-god.
It was during your first ever game of capture the flag at camp, you were allied with the blue team and stationed with the flag as a defender, tasked with the important job of stopping the red team from snagging it and claiming victory along with bragging rights. You were hyper vigilant of everything, from your stance, to the way you held your sword and shield like a iron vice, right down to the pace of your breathing and even made a headcount of every time you blinked as to stop yourself from your mind over reacting at every sound the forest made; believing it to be the enemy team making their move ahead of time.
If you were under any other circumstance, Luke would’ve found this kind of thing reaction endearing but it didn’t matter in the end because the blue team ended up winning out against the red team, all thanks to Luke and his excelled talents in swordsmanship and leadership as per usual.
What really sealed the deal for Luke in his feelings for you however was how genuinely happy you seemed upon hearing the news that your team won. You looked towards him with the brightest eyes and sweetest, widest smile he’s ever seen on the face of anyone he had ever met previous to you, and yet he couldn’t help but attempt to imitate your blinding smile but failed as it felt disingenuous; that typically tends to happens when you’ve won at pretty much every capture the flag since arrival, serval times over.
‘We won?’ You asked, still smiling.
‘Are your ears filled with cotton?’ Like asked rhetorically, holding you by the shoulder, smiling back at you. ‘yeah we won. Why? You act like this is your first time winning anything?’ He continued and takes in the way you averted your gaze elsewhere as though pondering whether or not you should admit something to him, only to look back at him and say ‘well I never got to do the winning as I was never given the opportunity to be on the winning team. The winning side.’ You admitted, shrugging your shoulders. ‘Only ever on the losing side. So I tend to treasure the times where I do win, even if it’s small victories, they still mean something in the end.’ You added.
Luke’s smile softened as he hears this, whilst also finding immense respect for you in recognising and taking pride in triumphs in ways that others would consider not worth the effort in obtaining; it truly made him think back on how he had taken his own achievements for granted and instead of celebrating the fact that he even won at all. ‘That’s one hell of a way to look at victory,’ Luke chuckled, ‘but I’ll let you what, stick with me and you’ll always be on the winning side.’ He promised, squeezing your shoulder as he began to drag you back towards the dinning pavilion.
‘You really want me on your team?’ You said incredulously as though you couldn’t believe what you were hearing before adding. ‘I didn’t really do anything other than defend the flag.’
‘Protecting the flag is a pivotal part of the game,’ Luke began, ‘it wouldn’t be called capture the flag if protecting the primary objective of the game wasn’t top priory for maintaining a single teams victory, whilst also attempting to steal the enemies flag that’s being heavily guarded to death.’ He says and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his ending statement, which made him warm inside from that fact that he had obtained his first small victory in making you chuckle; Luke was staring to slowly understand why you choice to savour the smaller victories in life, it definitely had it’s merits. ‘So to answer your question, yes, I would love to have you on my team. A hundred percent.’ He adds and once again your blinding smile was back on him and in that moment Luke felt as though he had finally won at life.
Now all he wanted was for you to stake claim to his heart because it was already yours and will be yours long after; Being yours would be his life’s greatest achievement.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
While Luke fell first, you fell harder for him then you thought you would after capture the flag.
He was the first ever friend you made at camp, which he continued to be even after you moved out of the Hermes cabin after being claimed as the child of Erebus, primordial god of darkness and shadows, so it was only natural that you wanted to take up any given opportunity to spend time with Luke and utilise every second of every minute to the fullest.
Yeah, he was conventionally attractive but that was merely a bonus to the perfect personality he had as camp half-bloods’ golden boy. What really sold you on him was how brotherly he acted towards the younger campers; making sure they were okay, giving them an answer to their every question, going out of his way to make sure they were settling in fine all the while being their resinated tour guide through camp and trying out various different activities to determine who their godly parents were based on what they excelled at.
He tried implementing a sense of normality for them, whether it worked or nor didn’t matter, it was the thought that he tried to remind these younger demi-gods that they were allowed to be human, and not the weapons that they were soon going to unfortunately be trained into. You were aware of Luke’s stance of the Greek pantheon of gods and goddesses and their blatant neglect and mistreatment of their children, only bothering to take notice of them when they could be proven useful to go on menial quests that untimely mean nothing, only to then be discarded soon after like a severely damaged toy; never to be played with again by it’s owner.
It was the inevitable fate of all demi-gods in Luke’s eyes, no valour, no glory, no memoriam, only the fact that a burned burial shroud of your godly parent is all to remember you by because in the end it wasn’t you -the demi-god- who was being remembered; it was the weapon you were moulded into by force for your parent’s honour that would be remembered.
However in the moments where you stood a distance away from the archery range, watching as Luke forced the newest addition to camp into crouching to avoid a rouge arrow that flew over their heads and implied itself deep into the trunk of a tree; it was obvious that the kid should be kept far away from from a bow and arrow for the foreseeable future as archery was defiantly not within his skill set, seeing as he could’ve easily just struck somebody with that stray arrow of his but you couldn’t help but smile at how Luke helped the boy up by his arm, checking him over for injuries while also asking if he was okay.
‘You alright there Damien? You’re not hurt anywhere are you?’ You heard Luke ask the younger lad with chestnut hair and wide doe eyes filled with fright, looking him over one more time to be certain that he was indeed injury free.
‘Y-yeah, I don’t think archery is my thing.’ Damien replied and Luke’s face of worry was soon replaced by a relieved expression, followed by a chuckle in disbelief as he raised a brow at the kid, as he then said ‘you don’t say? Now how about we put that down and go somewhere else before you let loose another route arrow, how does that sound?’ Damien was quick to discard the bow and arrow as though it burned him and went to follow Luke but before you could go back to what it was you were doing before you had gotten distracted, you heard Luke’s voice speak up once again, this time it was closely behind you; ‘Quick detour before we move onto the next activity Damien, there’s someone special I want you to meet first.’
Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a familiar arm drape across your shoulder and pull you into his side, finding yourself on the receiving end of one of Luke’s pretty smiles that had your insides melting like butter, but all you could do was reciprocate his smile with one of your own, unknown of the affects it had on the son of Hermes; though it was apparently obvious to the young lad standing awkwardly off to the side as he innocently asks. ‘Is this the person you couldn’t stop saying had a smile that could outshine the stars?’ Your eyes almost bugged out of your head at the comment as your heart leapt into your throat, even Luke looked a little taken aback by this kids openness and had to cough into his hand in hopes of hiding his flustered expression.
‘Damien this is y/n, child of Erebus. y/n, this is Damien, our newest addition.’ Luke introduce you to one another, clearly avoiding the question Damien made earlier as though he didn’t hear it, but Damien was obviously a smart kid as he saw through this as one would a glass widow.
‘It’s nice to meet you Damien, I hope Luke hasn’t scared you too badly yet.’ You joked, nudging the aforementioned boy playfully in the side, wanting the boy to feel at ease. ‘Accusations!’ Luke cried, nudging you back, causing you to laugh, making him smile in response. ‘These are false accusations being made to tarnish my name and drag it through the mud out of sheer jealously.’
‘Jealously?’ You replied, brow raised as your arms crossed over your chest. ‘Since when and I’m only looking out for Damien’s best interests at heart, being stuck with you is a fate I wouldn’t wish upon my worst of enemies.’ You continued to jest, another thing that you loved about Luke was the fact that you didn’t have to be overly serious with him, that didn’t mean you weren’t against having deep conversations because you’ve had them before down by the lake, but it was moments like there’s where having a bit of a laugh and a banter with one another was enough to make you temporality forget the reality of your lives and act your age for once; It was considered a distraction but a welcomed one indeed.
‘And yet I didn’t hear you voice any of this when I was showing you camp on your first day now did I?’ Luke replied cheekily as he looked over at Damien with a thumb jabbed in your direction, adding, ‘you hear what I have to deal with all the time Damien. Honestly they’re such a nightmare.’ Damien smiled and you could see the look of pride shine within Luke’s eyes at that, as though proud of himself for easing the tension from Damien’s poor shoulders.
You hope that one day you’d get the opportunity to tell him how you felt, whenever that may be because you honestly didn’t know much longer you could make yourself wait, but until then you were more then willing to play the long game.
#pjo x you#pjo x reader#pjo imagines#pjo imagine#pjo fanfic#pjo tv show#pjo series#Percy Jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#luke castellan x you#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan imagines#luke castellan fanfic
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Criston Cole - Where Honour Lies
Summary - Her frantic rush to avoid punishment turns into a confrontation when she collides with a knight, whose cruel words push her to act out. As tensions rise, someone steps in to protect her. An unexpected bond forms—one that hints at something deeper, yet still uncertain.
Pairing - Criston Cole x reader
Warnings - Violence (one slap)
Word count - 2117
Masterlist for Criston • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

I never meant for things to turn out like this, but somehow, it feels as though my life has always unravelled against my will.
No matter how carefully I try to control it, things slip through my fingers, spiralling into chaos.
That morning, I had been hurrying through the training grounds, clutching my book tightly, determined to take a shortcut and shave precious minutes off my route.
The Septa was going to be furious if I arrived late to another lesson, and I had already exhausted my supply of excuses.
Rhaenyra, of course, could be late as many times as she wished—the privileges of being the realm's princess. She had a way of smiling sweetly and sidestepping consequences entirely, her status a shield from reprimand.
Alicent, however, was never late. She moved with such practised grace, always punctual, always poised, as though she had calculated every step she took in advance.
But me? I was never so fortunate. Scattered and frantic, I often found myself trailing behind, scrambling to catch up. Today was no exception.
I darted across the grounds, my attention focused on the Septa's looming displeasure rather than the present moment.
Knights were training, their swords clashing and boots thudding against the packed dirt.
I weaved through them, trying to be swift and unnoticed, but my mind was elsewhere, spinning with a hundred concerns. I barely registered the figure in front of me until it was too late.
I collided with him, hard.
The force of the impact sent me sprawling to the ground, my book slipping from my grasp and skidding into the dust. I felt the sting of gravel against my palms, the rough scrape of the ground biting into my skin.
Groaning, I pushed myself up, wincing as a dull ache spread across my limbs.
My head throbbed where it had hit the earth, but the pain was nothing compared to the wave of humiliation that washed over me.
I glanced up, expecting at least an apology, or a hand offered in aid.
Instead, the knight I had crashed into barely gave me a second glance. He turned away as though I were nothing more than a nuisance, not even worth the effort of acknowledgement.
"Watch yourself," he muttered dismissively, his voice dripping with disdain.
I stared at him in disbelief, the injustice of it burning in my chest.
My gaze shifted to my book, lying forgotten a few feet away, now smudged with dirt and dust—another mark against me when I faced the Septa.
But more than that, it was his indifference that stoked the fire inside me. It wasn't enough that I had fallen in front of everyone.
To not even care if I was alright? To treat me like I was invisible? It was beyond arrogance.
"Rude and unseemly," I muttered under my breath, though my voice carried louder than I had intended.
His head whipped around at my words, a scowl darkening his features.
Clearly, I had caught his attention now. His conversation with his fellow knights was abruptly forgotten as if my defiance had piqued his interest in the worst possible way.
"You walked right into me," he growled, his tone as sharp as a blade, eyes narrowing.
I rose to my feet, brushing the dirt off my dress with more frustration than care.
"And you could have had the decency to help a lady to her feet," I snapped, bending to retrieve my book, now streaked with grime.
The knight scoffed, the sound dripping with mockery.
"You noble-born women are always complaining about something," he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.
There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, as though he found my indignation amusing, a mere trifle to laugh at.
I straightened up, clutching my book to my chest like a shield, my anger simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.
"Perhaps if you knew the meaning of courtesy," I bit out, my voice steady despite the fury I felt, "you might understand. But clearly, that's beyond you."
His laughter echoed through the training yard, loud and unabashed. It drew the attention of a few nearby knights, their gazes flicking toward us with mild interest.
My cheeks flushed with heat—not from embarrassment, but from the sheer audacity of this man. He was mocking me as if my words were some grand jest meant for his amusement.
The nerve! To treat me like I was nothing more than an annoyance, a joke to be laughed at.
I could feel the eyes of others on me now, waiting to see how I would react as if this were some sort of performance for their entertainment.
But I refused to back down. I would not let him make a fool of me, not today.
His laughter slowly faded, but the smirk remained, pulling at the corner of his lips. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, mocking tone that only I could hear.
"You should be more careful where you walk," he said, his eyes raking over me with a lewd glint, "unless you want to end up in more... compromising positions. Not that anyone would be surprised."
I gasped, the words hitting me like a slap in the face.
The blood rushed to my cheeks, and I could feel my heart pounding wildly in my chest. I was frozen for a split second, disbelief paralyzing me as his meaning sank in.
The casual cruelty in his tone, the vulgar implication—it was utterly out of line, a violation not just of courtesy but of basic decency.
Before I could even process what I was doing, my hand shot out, instinct taking over. The sound of the slap rang through the air, sharp and decisive.
My palm stung as it made contact with his cheek, the force of the blow snapping his head to the side. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but stunned silence.
Then he turned back to me, his eyes blazing with fury. The smirk was gone, replaced by a cold, dangerous look that sent a shiver down my spine.
His hand curled into a fist at his side, his muscles tensing. He took a step toward me, his intention clear.
"You little—" he growled, raising his arm as if to strike me back.
But before his blow could land, a strong hand shot out, gripping his wrist mid-swing.
The knight froze, his eyes widening in surprise as he turned to face the man who had stopped him.
Ser Criston Cole stood there, his face set in a calm but unyielding expression. His grip was firm, ironclad, and he held the knight's arm as though it weighed nothing.
"That's enough," Criston said, his voice low and measured, but there was a hard edge to it, a warning that could not be ignored.
The knight sneered, yanking his hand free from Criston's hold. He glared at me one last time, hatred simmering in his gaze.
"You'll regret that," he muttered darkly, but with Criston standing between us, he didn't dare move further.
With a final, contemptuous look, he turned on his heel and stalked away, shoulders rigid with barely contained anger.
I stood there, still breathing hard, my heart racing from the adrenaline coursing through me.
My hand still tingled from the slap, and a part of me couldn't quite believe what I had just done. But the larger part of me—fueled by indignation and righteous fury—refused to feel any regret.
Criston turned to me, his expression softening slightly. "Are you alright, my lady?" he asked, his voice quiet but steady, as if what had just happened was an everyday occurrence.
I nodded, still too shaken to trust my voice. My chest heaved the remnants of fear and anger swirling inside me.
I met his eyes, grateful beyond words that he had stepped in when he did.
I could still feel the weight of the knight's threat lingering in the air, but with Criston here, it seemed distant, almost unreal.
"Thank you," I managed to whisper, my voice finally finding itself.
Criston inclined his head slightly, his eyes scanning the crowd of knights who had been watching the scene unfold.
"It's nothing, my lady," he said, his tone polite, though there was a flicker of something deeper in his gaze—an understanding, perhaps. "You handled yourself well."
I wasn't sure if he was being entirely honest, but I appreciated the sentiment all the same.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. Criston stood before me, tall and steady, a calming presence amidst the chaos that had just erupted.
His eyes, dark and thoughtful, held mine for a moment longer than necessary. The intensity of his gaze made me feel both safe and suddenly self-conscious.
I brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, realizing how dishevelled I must look after my fall, and the heat in my cheeks intensified for a different reason.
"You're quicker than most men I know," Criston remarked, a glint of admiration in his eyes. "And braver, too. Few would dare slap a knight in front of his comrades."
His words made me smile despite the lingering tension.
"Bravery or foolishness?" I asked with a light laugh, brushing the dirt from my dress once more. "I'm not sure there's much of a difference."
"Perhaps," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "But either way, you stood your ground. Not everyone does."
The compliment hung in the air between us, and I found myself unexpectedly flustered by his words.
There was a warmth in his gaze that made it hard to look away, as if, for a moment, the rest of the world had faded into the background, leaving only the two of us standing amidst the chaos of the training yard.
"I'm glad you were there," I said softly, feeling the weight of his presence more than ever. "I don't think my slap would have been enough to stop him."
I laughed, though there was an underlying truth to my words. My earlier defiance had been instinctive, but his intervention had been crucial.
Criston's expression grew more serious.
"You shouldn't have to deal with knights like that," he said, his tone quiet but firm. "Some men forget their place, especially when they think no one is watching. You were right to call him out."
"Even if I overstepped?" I tilted my head slightly, curious about his response.
His eyes flicked down to my book, still dusted with dirt, before returning to mine. "Some things are worth overstepping for."
His words sent a shiver down my spine, though whether it was from his meaning or his tone, I couldn't be sure.
There was something about the way he looked at me in that moment—like he truly saw me, not just as a noblewoman or a lady, but as a person deserving of respect.
I felt my heart flutter and quickly reminded myself that I was still very much late for my lesson.
The Septa's wrath would only grow with each passing minute, and while this encounter had been unexpected, I couldn't afford to linger much longer.
But I found it difficult to break the connection between us as if something invisible tied me to Ser Criston in that moment.
"I should go," I said reluctantly, my voice softer than I had intended. "I'm already late, and the Septa is not as forgiving as you are."
Criston's smile returned, softer this time, almost playful. "Then I won't keep you, my lady. But if you find yourself in need of assistance again..." He trailed off, a teasing glint in his eyes. "You know where to find me."
I laughed, the tension easing from my shoulders. "I'll keep that in mind, Ser Criston."
With one last smile, I turned to leave, my steps quicker now as the weight of my impending tardiness settled back in.
But as I hurried away, I couldn't resist the temptation to glance over my shoulder one last time.
He was still watching me.
Standing tall in the training yard, Criston's gaze followed me as I rushed off, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.
Our eyes met for just a fleeting second, but it was enough to send a wave of warmth through me, a sensation that lingered long after I turned the corner and disappeared from view.
The Septa's lecture would be harsh, I knew, but at that moment, all I could think about was the way Criston had stood between me and danger—and the way his presence had made everything seem a little less daunting.
With my heart still racing, I hurried toward the Septa's chambers, but my mind was already wandering back to the training yard, to the knight who had stepped in to save me.
I did hope we crossed paths again... in better circumstances.
A/n - Dropped the book im reading rn in a puddle yesterday x
#house of the dragon#house targaryen#hotd#hotd x reader#house of the dragon x reader#hotd one shot#hotd season 2#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd fanfic#team green#criston cole#criston cole x reader#criston x reader#hotd criston#ser criston cole#criston cole imagine#criston cole x you
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Evermore
Dracule Mihawk X Reader
-Your evermore with Mihawk is a story to be told
Chapter 5: Now I Know She'll Never Leave Me, Even As She Runs Away
The sun had just begun to cast its gentle glow over Mihawk's castle as he stirred awake, his keen senses picking up on the absence of your presence beside him. Immediately, concern surged through him, and he swiftly rose from the bed, his steps hurried as he left the room. He called your name, his voice echoing through the halls, but there was no response.
He found you outside, surrounded by a group of monkeys. His frustration was palpable as he approached, his voice laden with exasperation. "Love, what are you doing?"
Startled by his arrival, you turned to face him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. You tried to put on a brave face, but your trembling lips betrayed your emotions. "I need to get stronger."
Mihawk's gaze softened, and he reached out to pull you into his arms. "The doctor said you shouldn't. Your health is already bad enough as it is pregnant, love..."
Tears welled in your eyes, and you choked back a sob. "If I don't get stronger, how will I get better? I need to—"
"Y/N." His voice was firm yet gentle, a plea laced with concern. "Let's get back to bed, okay?"
He held you close, his arms a protective shield around you as he guided you back to your room. The weight of your emotions pressed upon him—the fear, the uncertainty, the desperation. It had been twelve weeks since you found out about your pregnancy, and every day had been a struggle, a delicate balancing act between hope and despair.
Your journey had taken a disheartening turn when you learned about the fragility of your health and the risks your pregnancy posed. The doctor's words had struck like a blow, leaving both you and Mihawk reeling. The doctor had somberly explained that your body, already weakened, was further strained by the pregnancy, with the baby consuming what little vitality you had left. It was a cruel irony, one that made your hope for the future feel like a distant dream.
In the aftermath of that visit, you had pushed yourself, driven by a desire to overcome your condition and protect the life growing within you. But despite your efforts, your health continued to decline, and Mihawk watched helplessly as the light in your eyes dimmed.
"Y/N, I want you to rest," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the storm within you. He guided you back to bed, his touch gentle and reassuring. He lay beside you, pulling you into his embrace as you finally allowed your tears to fall.
"Why... why can't I just... get better?" you whispered through your sobs, your voice tinged with frustration and a profound sense of helplessness.
Mihawk's fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch tender as he wiped away your tears. His gaze was filled with a mixture of compassion and longing. "Love, you're doing your best. But there are battles that even the strongest cannot win alone."
As he held you, he could feel the fragile threads that bound you both together—the vulnerability of life, the uncertainties of the future, and the depth of your love. The weight of your shared struggle hung in the air, a testament to the intricacies of existence and the strength that could be found in the warmth of an embrace, the whispered reassurances, and the steadfast presence of a partner who would stand by your side, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
In the quiet of the room, as the sun's first rays peeked through the window, Mihawk held you, his heart aching with the desire to shield you from pain. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice soft yet resolute. "You're not alone in this, Y/N. I'll be here with you, every step of the way."
~
Shanks observed his friend and co-celebrant, Mihawk, as he sat on the couch, leaning against the backrest. The celebrations had carried on into the evening, the sound of laughter and music filling the air. Shanks approached Mihawk, a knowing smile playing on his lips, as he offered him a drink.
Mihawk shook his head, declining the offer, his expression impassive. Zoro appeared behind Shanks, his usual grin in place, and without hesitation, he snatched the drink from Shanks' hand, taking a hearty swig.
Perona, with her characteristic directness, chimed in, "Oh, come on, Mihawk! Loosen up a bit. It's a celebration!"
She extended another drink toward Mihawk, her tone both playful and insistent. Zoro laughed, raising his newly acquired drink in agreement. "Yeah, even the world's greatest swordsman deserves a break sometimes."
Mihawk's lips twitched into a faint smile at the banter. "And why would I need to 'loosen up,' as you put it?"
Perona chuckled. "Because it's your birthday, duh! You're supposed to enjoy yourself."
Mihawk's gaze shifted toward the playful exchange between Zoro and Perona before returning to Shanks. "I prefer to enjoy the celebration in my own way."
Zoro's laughter rang out once more, his arm casually slung around Shanks' shoulder. "He's got a point, Captain. Mihawk's always got that 'taking care of everyone' vibe going on."
Shanks grinned, nodding in agreement. "He does have a habit of keeping us in line, doesn't he?"
Mihawk's expression remained stoic, but there was a subtle twinkle in his eyes. "Someone has to ensure you don't burn down the island in the process."
Shanks laughed heartily, raising his drink in a mock toast. "To Mihawk, the world's grumpiest babysitter!"
The four of them shared a brief moment of camaraderie, the teasing and laughter. As the night wore on, the celebrations continued, the weight of their respective titles and responsibilities momentarily set aside in favor of shared laughter and lighthearted moments.
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princess protection program⋆⁺₊❅ s.todoroki x reader

chapter 1 ⋆⁺₊❅ the leaves unfold, the king lies cold
series masterlist here!
content warnings - includes depictions of violence, mention of death, family loss & k!llings / executions
six months ago…⋆⁺₊❅
the kingdom of virelia was known for its jewels found around the kingdom. it was a prosperous place that many rich and noble people enjoyed. but with prosperity came inequality.
the whispers of a rebellion flooded the streets of the poor. within a few years, a secret resistance group emerged from the shadows, attacking the royal palace during one of their infamously known galas. galas that held tables full of five star meals and champagne while the common folk died of starvation.
the attack came without warning. it started when women were protesting in the morning against unfair pay. what was meant to be a peaceful protest turned violent. the protest was hijacked by resistance fighters, encouraging officers to abandon their posts and join them. by the time night fell, the so call officers and soldiers found themselves against the tyrant king.
the grand halls of the palace echoed with chaos. gun shots, cries for help and an angry mob filled the empty rooms of the palace. the once glittering ball room, full of golden and encrusted diamond chandeliers was now a scene of a massacre.
you clutch onto the pearls around your neck before asking in a trembling voice, “father, what is happening? why is everything burning? there’s so much fire…” you stared in horror at the chaos unfolding around you. a garden that was built for your 7th birthday, was now being burned to ashes before your eyes.
from the reflection of the window, you see your eldest brother approaching you. before you could seek for further reassurance, your eldest brother drags you away from the sight.
“we must go immediately, n/n.” he urged with the hint of fear in his voice. you could see past his facade of bravery, and saw his terror.
he draped a coat over your head shielding you from the rebellion that now reached the palace walls. despite his efforts, you peaked your head out. your heart drops at the sight.
nobles were herded like sheep into separate groups; men, women and children were all separated. you watched in silent horror as the rebels slowly raised their guns to their heads.
the deafening sound sound of gunfire filled the palace, each shot was followed by blood curdling screams of terror. the ones who survived the firing squad were shot once again. you cling onto your brother tighter.
“get on this train, you’ll have someone waiting for you at the end of the ride,” your brother said, his voice firm but trembling. you felt yourself being pushed onto the train along with the other commoners.
you reached your hand out, “please! please, come with me!” you begged as your voice broke.
his hand was hesitant to reach out but he decided against it. he shakes his head and steps back as the train began rolling. through tears, you watched as his figure grew smaller and smaller.
just as the train was to turn the corner, you caught a glimpse of his final moments. two men, holding him by his arms as another brought a gun to his head.
present…⋆⁺₊❅
shoto had just finished a semester at ua. he was exhausted and dreaded coming home for the winter break. but alas, the universe was not on his side once again!
shoto stood in the doorway of his room, throwing the suitcase to the side before being startled. an unfamiliar girl, sitting criss-cross on his bed. you turned her head towards him and gave him condescending look.
“you’re in the wrong room,” he said with no particular emotion behind it.
you tilted your head, “actually, i’m not. this is where they told me to stay.”
shoto frowned, “they?” was this one of natsuo’s girlfriends? perhaps a family friend?
“your family,” she replied, her voice steady but full of frustration. “they insisted i stay here until… until it’s safe for me to go home.”
he sighed, already feeling his patience slipping. “and why aren’t you safe to go home?”
she’s the first to break eye contact as she looked down at her hands. “it’s really none of your concern,” she mumbled. suddenly, her false confidence she previously had was gone.
shoto crossed his arms, “it is when you’re in my room.”
he flinched at the harsh glare she gave him, her condescending tone slowly creeps back. “do you think i want to be here?! do you even know who i am? i wouldn’t be caught dead sharing a room with somebody like you!”
his brows furrowed. “someone like me?”
she scoffed, standing up and brushing past him. “forget about it, you commoners wouldn’t understand.”
she walked out, leaving shoto with a confused and irritated feeling in his chest. whoever the girl was, she clearly had issues. and he was stuck dealing with it.
his thoughts were cut short by a gentle knock on his bedroom door. he lets out a weary sigh before opening the door. in front of him stood his older sister, fuyumi, with an apologetic look.
“shoto, i’m sorry we didn’t necessarily tell you about y/n and about her situation..” she began as she allowed herself in, closing the door behind her.
“y/n?” he questioned as if the name rung a bell. he mutters your name over and over again while he walked over to his bed. where has he heard the name?
“who is she? and why was she in my room?” he interrogated.
he could feel the hesitation radiating off fuyumi as she struggled to say the right words. “she’s… she’s a prin- or was the princess of virelia. her kingdom got overthrown, and father agreed to take her in. she’s been staying with us for about six months..”
shoto stared blankly, unresponsive. fuyumi fidgets with her hands before speaking up again, “father said she’ll stay with us until they find a safe way for her to live on her own.” she had hoped that shoto would’ve given you some sympathy points and let her slide.
“that still doesn’t explain why she’s in my room. why my room?” he asked bluntly, completely ignoring your tragic backstory.
“we’re short on space. apparently were going under renovation..!” she mentioned as an attempt to lighten the mood. “father said it’d be fine since you’re only here for the break. how long is that? a week? two?”
“try three months.” he snorted as he contemplated his life decisions. he runs his hands through his hair and looks over at fuyumi, “there’s no way you expect me to share a room with her. her attitude is terrible, her perfume reeks off my bedsheets and she’s practically renovated my room.”
“shoto, can’t you try and be a little be more understanding? she just lost her entire family, her home and she’s grieving.” she explains, “plus, she’s not used to this world. she doesn’t know any better.”
“grieving or not, she had no right to give me an attitude. or takeover my room!” he retorted.
fuyumi takes a few breaths before responding calmly, “grieving or not, she’s still in pain. don’t be like him, you’re better than this.”
with that, she left shoto alone in his overwhelming thoughts. he sits on the bed that you were once on moments ago, thinking of the kind of life you left behind.
‘i guess we’re both uncomfortable with this..’
tag list (open) - @wonlluvie
#my hero academia shoto#mha shoto#my hero acedamia#mha#shoto#shoto todoroki#shoto todoroki x you#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto x y/n#shoto x you#shoto x reader#mha todoroki#mha touya#mha fuyumi#mha rei#mha natsuo#mha endeavor#mha enji#enji todoroki#endevour#todoroki x reader#touya todoroki#todoroki family#rei todoroki#natsuo todoroki#fuyumi todoroki#dabi todoroki#mha x y/n#mha x you#mha fanfiction
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"I blamed myself."
Ford paused mid-sip of his evening coffee and raised a brow at Shermie. He made a motion with his hand for Shermie to elaborate.
Shermie sighed.
"I...well...do you remember when you and Stan...the month of the science fair..." Ford's eyes widened.
Surely Shermie didn't mean...Ford and Stan did their best to hide their ...disagreements (fights, they were fights- they didn't think the were fights then but looking back it was clear Stan and Ford were fighting)
Sure, Ford and Stan didn't yell at one another. Not like Ma and Pa.
Never like Ma and Pa, it was scary enough before Shermie, they had no regrets staying up late to make sure little Shermie slept soundly through the night.
Ford thought Shermie didn't notice. Hell, he and Stan didn't even notice, not until the night Stan snuck into the school, only then did the older Pines twins realize they'd been silently fighting with each other the entire time. One brother chomping at the bit to leave, the other stubbornly trying to keep everything the same, clinging to what was safe and familiar because he didn't want to be left behind.
Ford thought Shermie was too young at the time. He wouldn't notice, there was no way he could have noticed, not after Ford and Stan did their best to shield Shermie from the mess that was their family.
...and a small part of Ford didn't want to acknowledge the fact that despite his best efforts, Shermie didn't get out or Jersey unscathed.
He didn't want to acknowledge that he failed to protect both of his younger brothers.
"I used to ask mom why you and Lee Lee seemed to be aging backwards," Shermie continued. "She could never give me an answer."
"Aging backwards?" What could Shermie have meant by that? Was it-maybe he also sensed Ford trying to pull away while Stan wanted the three of them to stay together. Maybe it was how Ford and Stan's tempers grew shorter and shorter as the science fair grew nearer.
Or maybe Shermie was referring to how he was practically abandoned by his older brothers. Ford read less and less to him, focusing more on academic pursuits. Stan spent more time working on the Stan-o-war and now that Ford was older he was starting to see how confused little Shermie must've been back then.
Shermie went from having two doting older brothers to primarily spending time with Ma because Ford and Stan were stubborn fools who got too lost in their own heads-
Instead of voicing the thoughts running through his head, Ford asked what Shermie meant by saying he blamed himself. Shermie fiddled with his hands and looked to the side.
"Shermie, hey," Ford said, reaching to place what he hoped was a comforting hand onto his youngest brothers shoulder. "Why would you blame yourself?"
"Whose blaming who?" A familiar gravelly rasp asked. Ford didn't have to look up to know it was his twin.
Stan had walked into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands, curiously glancing between Shermie and Ford. "We pinning something on someone? Look, if a cop asks ya something you got the right to remain silent."
Ford groaned, momentarily forgetting his concern towards Shermie thinking he was to blame for Ford and Stan's falling out. "Two out of three of us having...history with the law is enough for this family."
"Could make it three. What do ya say Sher-bear? Wanna pull a heist with your big bros-"
"Was it my fault?" Stan's mouth snapped shut. He raised a brow at Ford. "What's he blaming himself for?"
Ford shrugged. "Us aging backwards, apparently."
"What, like...damn, what was the word Mabel used again? Started with an 'R,' apparently a lot of older siblings do it?"
"Regression," Shermie quietly supplied. "She was studying about age regression tendencies for one of her classes." Stan snapped his fingers. "Right, that! Wait, hang on. I don't think we regress. DO we regress, Ford?"
"Hey, don't ask me," Ford said, hand not holding his coffee raised. "We had the same childhood, we're biased." Although, compared to Dipper and Mabel, Ford was slowly beginning to see maybe he and Stan were...for a lack of a better word, lacking in the emotional maturity department.
Okay, so maybe some research on emotional-regression could potentially be beneficial. Not that Ford would ever admit that out loud.
Ford set his cup on the t-rex skull table and took a seat on the floor, looking up at where Shermie sat on Stan's armchair. "Wait, why would it be your fault?"
"Yeah, you were a kid," Stan chimed in, setting the popcorn bowl beside Ford's mug. "Why would how we turned out be your fault?"
"Didn't I steal your childhood?" Ford blinked at Shermie. "...Huh?"
"I-so much of my childhood was just you two and Ma. If Ma wasn't around, I'd always go to you two. I went to you two when I was hungry, when I wanted a toy, when I wanted to do something for my birthday-"
"That's just us being your older brothers," Ford interrupted. "We chose to do that."
"Did you ever do anything without thinking about me first? Truthfully, did you ever head out on one of your adventures without making sure Ma was home first?" Ford exchanged a glance with his twin again.
"...Yes?" Stan hesitantly answered. "I mean, it's not like we...always...we totally...huh."
"Huh?" Ford echoed.
"...Okay, fine, so yeah we may have tried to make sure you at least had it kinda better than we did. But you were our baby brother, Shermie, you needed Ma, and us, and all that squishy mushy affection stuff."
"I still don't understand why you think us possibly regressing is your fault," Ford added. Shermie sighed again.
"Regression happens when a person doesn't get to fully experience childhood. This results in the individual adopting habits or interests that they should have had growing up."
"What, so you think because, and again, we chose to, help mom out with you, it's your fault our brains wanna do stuff we shoulda done as kids?"
"Normal childhoods don't involve learning how to build toys for your younger brother, Stanley. Normal childhoods don't worry about your younger brother not having a lunch for school, normal childhoods don't involve saving your allowance to get a cake for your younger brother's birthday while ignoring your own birthdays-"
"We chose to do all of that," Ford repeated his earlier statement, not wanting to hear his youngest brother blame himself for what he perceived as robbing Ford and Stan of their childhoods. "We chose to help Ma look after you- Stan and I even promised Ma that we would protect and look after you. You didn't take anything from us."
"But-"
"Shermie," Stan cut him off, "You were, what, Mabel and Dipper's age when shi-shiitake mushrooms hit the fan?"
"Niblings aren't here," Ford reminded.
"Oh, right. Ha, force of habit. Anyway," Stan continued with a wave of his hand, "Our issues? And our brains being weird? That's on Pa."
"But-"
"Stanley's right, Sherman. Pa should have stepped up to teach you, that shouldn't have fallen onto us. That was Pa's fault."
"And we were just in a crummy financial situation. Also not your fault, now quit blaming yourself and eat your popcorn," Stan muttered, scooping the popcorn off of the table and plopping it onto Shermie's lap.
Ford nodded in agreement. "You didn't force us to do anything, Shermie. Pa should have stepped up, and when he didn't we did. Nothing about us is your fault, okay?"
"...okay."
"I know you don't actually think it's okay," Ford said, "And that's alright. Stan and I will just keep telling you it's not your fault until you believe it."
#gravity falls#j writes stuff#parentified!Pines au#I didn't know how to end this-#it doesn't want to give me a good ending-#anyways#bon apple teeth y'all who like this au#stanley pines#stanford pines#shermie pines#proshippers dni
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Burning love.
Superman x Firefighter!GN!Reader
Warnings: Fire, lack of air, kids in danger, fire, a cat stuck in a tree
2370 words
Masterlist
Summary: Being a firefighter in metropolis is hard work, sometimes you need to ask for help from your boyfriend.
A/N: I'm back! Sorry it took so long, this one was sitting in my drafts at, like, 80% done for a couple months. Didn't have the energy to finish it :/.... But now I'm back, and I'll do a few requests before getting back to my series
As soon as you got the call you guys knew it was a big one. You’ve been doing this job long enough that you could tell when a fire was gonna take a lot of effort to get under control. Metropolis was especially flammable this time of year, summer brought warm and clear skies but it also dried the air and lower levels of humidity made it so a spark could start a fire.
Not even the nighttime was safe, it was around 23:30 your station got the alert, and you all got prepared speeding out in the truck hoping to get to the building in time.
—---
A few tense silent minutes later your team got to the building and realized this was gonna be a long night. You immediately turned to your captain,
- I’m going in. - You said simply
- Not without backup you won’t - She looked to one of your colleagues - Jackson! Go with L/N
You smiled a tight smile at Jackson, he always was the one that got into these situations with you.
- Try and keep up - You said picking up the oxygen tank
- Dude, you’re always the one that slows me down - he shot back. You two always did little jokes like this to hype each-other up before you went into a building.
Both of you turned back to the burning building getting ready to go inside and search for victims. Not before you subtly pressed a little button inside your pocket. This fire felt like it could turn into a catastrophe very fast.
Inside the building you and Jackson went through it like so many times before; getting people out, breaking down obstacles and making a path so you didn’t get lost. That was… Until.
- Jackson! Need a hand! - You yelled out, the fire was roaring around you and the smoke was starting to thicken. A piece of the wall had fallen in front of a door and you hear a little boy inside crying out for help.
- Help! Please! My mom isn’t doing well! - You heard him cry out between coughs.
- Just hang on kid, we’re almost there. - You swung your ax again and tried to muscle through. Still not enough. - Jackson! - You screamed again, you saw his blurry figure move next to you
- On three! - He screamed and counted. On three you both threw your bodies onto the piece of debris finally getting through the door.
You clocked the kid and his mom, the mom wasn’t moving except for a few coughs, the child looked no more than five years old, scared out of his mind and coughing badly.
- Get the kid, I got the mom. - Jackson said, you nodded and knelt to pick up the kid
- Let’s go buddy, we’re getting out of here. - You said trying to sound comforting.
- What about my mom? - He asked.
- My friend over there has her, you’ll both make it out. - You picked him up. - We’re going, okay? - He gave you a small nod and you tucked his head on your shoulder, doing your best to shield him from more smoke than he had already inhaled.
You turned around to see the silhouette of Jackson walking out carrying out the mom, making your way towards the exit your foot went through one of the boards, getting stuck.
The child screamed at the sudden drop but you assured him everything was fine and started to take your foot off the hole. The smoke was starting to thicken and your fire protection outfit was starting to get warm, you could feel yourself getting tired but you had to keep going. You could see the corridor that led to the exit. This boy had to get out, he had to be with his mom. So, with all the strength you could muster… You grabbed your ax, bringing it down on the trap you were stuck in! Finally getting it out and running towards the exit.
At some point you must’ve holstered the ax since both your hands were clutching the little boy, but you were on auto-pilot just gunning it for the exit.
When you smelled the fresh air you were able to open your eyes fully and see the ambulances outside, a paramedic met you half-way. You dropped the kid off, after a bit of coercing the little boy to let go, you looked back at the building. The flames getting bigger by the second and you knew there were more people inside, but before you could make the decision to go back in. You saw him.
- Superman!
Clark Kent, currently Superman, hoping to go see his partner soon
- C’mon little buddy, there’s no need to be scared - Clark spoke softly with arms stretched out
The cat, Teddles as he had learned from the little girl crying below, was still a little scared, understandable since he was on top of the tallest tree in Metropolis Park. Clark smiled and spoke.
- You’re gonna be fine, Teddles. - The cat’s head perked up at the mention of its name. - Yes, Teddles, come on
The cat, without warning jumped into Superman's arms, only because he was indestructible that he didn’t get scratched.
Clark swooped down holding the cat.
- Here you go - He said to the little girl, who was now hugging her cat and wiping her tears - Keep a better eye on him next time.
- Say “Thank you Superman” - Her mother said in a soft tone
- Thank you Superman - the little girl said opening a small smile
- You’re welcome - He said, kneeling down and the cat a couple scritches, poor thing must have been on that tree for hours.
- Thank you Superman, I didn’t want to stay out this late but she was really worried about the cat. - The mom said to Clark - I’m sure you didn’t expect to be picking cats from trees at this hour…
- It happens more often than you’d thi- - A beep, no multiple beeps. Three short followed by three long, in a repeating pattern. SOS! - Are you guys okay? - He asked the two, after a short nod Clark took off at super speed flying, trying to hear where you were.
He knew that your job was dangerous, handling fire everyday was hardly a “safe job” but he wasn’t one to talk about safety. So when he managed to make you take a little clicker with you, just in case you needed his help, he was always on the lookout for it. You hardly used it, something about him already having his hands so full all the time and you being able to handle your tasks without a “super-crutch” (your air quotes). But you both knew you wanted to impress him.
He began to make a lap of Metropolis trying to locate the sound’s origin. He found it.
The building was an inferno, he had put out bigger fires sure, but this one had people inside it. He started to look into the building trying to find you, when he heard your voice.
- Superman!
He smiled wide before landing beside you, you had a line of ash around your nose and mouth probably from wearing the oxygen mask and spoke.
- Is everyone out? - you shook your head
- The higher floors still have people, our ladder can’t get close enough.
- I’ll get them - He nodded - Will you..
- We’ll get the fire under control - You finished his sentence before looking around and sneaking a quick kiss on his cheek. - For luck.
He blushed a bit and took off, disappearing into the burning building.
Inside the building Clark began to go through each floor with precision, break down doors, grab whoever is inside, get out, get in, repeat. It took him a while but with your help getting the flames down he was able to get everyone with only minor injuries.
After getting everyone out Superman began working on the fire itself, flying around the building so fast he was creating a vacuum in the middle. Sucking the air from the building, putting out the flames. He heard you telling everyone to back away, knowing the effects of his speed, not long after the building was left as a giant charred and smoking.
Clark stared at the smoking building for a while looking for whatever had caused it to go up in flames when the sound of your voice calming down an old lady cut through his focus. He smiled, the fire was already out and maybe you had some insight.
Landing behind you the old lady that was sitting on the stretcher widened her eyes at his appearance.
- I’m fine, dear, I think you should take care of him. - The old lady said to you, he saw you tilt your head in a little confusion but still nodded and turned around. The old lady’s stretcher getting wheeled out by a paramedic
- I don’t think he needs any help. - You chuckled when you looked at him, reaching up and wiping some ash from his face. - There we go.
He smiled a bit at the interaction.
- Lieutenant L/N. - He said in a semi-serious voice
- Superman. - You replied in the same curt tone
- Do you know what might have caused this? - He asked
You shook your head but gave him a smile.
- No, but I think the reporters coming will probably be able to get more information. - Your smile turned into a smirk. - I’m sure Ms. Lane would be delighted to have the byline all to herself.
- She wouldn’t dare. - He smiled back. - But you’re right, maybe the reporters will have better luck.
You looked behind him and met his eyes.
- Well? Are you gonna ask questions? Or Answer them? - You nodded your head to the news vans driving up to the smoking building. Clark looked back and smiled.
- See you in a bit. - He chuckled before taking off.
Lieutenant Y/N L/N, Firefighter, dreading this next part
You were dreading this next part, hearing questions you couldn’t possibly know the answer to, being flashed by cameras and filmed by a lot more and while having to keep a cool head even though you were still high on adrenaline.
The only saving grace was the cute reporter from the Daily Planet and his best friends would be here as well, their questions weren’t easier to answer but you knew they wouldn’t take your words out of context and plaster some lie on the front page.
You adjusted your uniform and wiped some ash from your face, taking a deep breath, you went to your captain.
- News vans are here - You said in a tone more akin to “a caravan full of flaming bears are here”
- Damn they’re fast, can you..? - She looked at you, letting out a resigned sigh as you nodded, you knew she’d tell you to handle them. But you could dream.
- Yeah, do you have anything for me to tell them?
- Tenants think it’s a gas leak, apparently it was supposed to be fixed tomorrow but… Well - She gestured to the building.
- Late night snack?
- Late night snack.
- Alright, that should be enough. Don’t leave without me, boss. - You said as you started making your way to the modest number of reporters coming, it was almost midnight! Don’t they ever sleep?
The police had arrived at some point and already established a perimeter, not allowing the reporters to come closer to the injured or the hot rock that was once livable. You touched one of the officers on the shoulder, asking to be let through, he gave you a sympathetic look before letting you get to the journalists.
—--------
The whole process must’ve taken, like, half an hour but it felt like an eternity. The same questions being asked, some of them were more invasive than others, the only saving grace were the two reporters and the cameraman from the Daily Planet.
- Lieutenant L/N. Lois Lane with the Daily Planet - You heard Lois say making you turn your head to her, you could see Clark beside her with a note pad while she was using her phone to record your voice and Jimmy was behind them with a camera. - What kind of precautions do you think people should take so this doesn’t happen again?
You smiled a bit, these were the kind of questions you want to be asked but they don’t make for good headlines, so everybody skips them. Not the only two reporters that you know have ears and don’t have to repeat questions.
After the round of questions, the police started to usher the press away. You decided to answer one more question, from the cute reporter with the glasses.
He blushed, and you realized you had said that out loud.
- I mean… I’ll answer one more question before going back. - You cleared your throat.
Clark stepped up, adjusting his glasses in the most adorable way possible.
- What was it like, working with an all powerful and strong being, like Superman? - he asked, a grin on his lips. The man didn’t like to talk about his other life most times, but you could see he wanted to put you on the spot.
You rolled your eyes but answered dutifully, wiping the ash from your face.
- Well, he could have arrived sooner couldn’t he? - You smirked, looking at him from the side. He narrowed his eyes at you, just at the corner of your vision - But this way you can see that the Metropolis Fire Department is always there for you!
You finished with a little ad for the department, just like the chief taught you. You gave the crowd of reporters one last scan before your eyes settled on Clark, he was writing in his notepad probably in the shorthand way he always used while in interviews, he tried to teach you how to read it once but it was way too difficult for your brain. Clark looked up and saw you staring at him, he gave you a small genuine smile before a few cops started to usher out the reporters.
You saw them walking away and couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the sight of Clark’s neck having ash over it, clearly a spot he had missed when changing.
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Hi again! Can you do a dva x fem! Reader fic which reader is a dps agent, and they take care of each other after a rough mission?
Kiss it Better
D.Va x fem! DPS Agent
"Hey, you okay?"
Hana's voice calls out to you but she sounds like she's miles away from you. Your gaze is stuck on your bloody hands, the callouses on your palms are peeled and ripped off, leaving pads of blood and raw flesh. The skin on your knuckles aren't any better. Shades of purples and reds have overtaken your natural skin color, dried blood caked into certain areas too. There isn't an inch of you that doesn't ache; your feet blistered, your legs sore, your torso bruised, your face cut, everything hurt.
You're pulled back to reality when a softer hand squeezes your shoulder gently.
"Y/N?"
It's worrying how much effort it takes to look up at the Korean girl but you do so anyways. A small cut decorates her bottom lip and you wish you had the strength to stand up and kiss it better but you would probably collapse if you tried.
"Honestly I feel like I'm dying."
The stupid, lopsided smile you give her is meant to lighten what you just said but it only makes her frown grow bigger.
"Should we stop by the Overwatch base?? I can call Angela and tell her it's an emergency"
"Wait Hana no- I was joking"
"That's not funny Jagi! I'm worried, you look like shit"
"You say you feel like you're dying all the time"
"It's funny when I do it"
The conversation distracts you from the ache in your bones and you two keep talking until you physically can't keep your eyes open any longer. Somewhere during the conversation Hana had sat down next to you in the ship which allowed you to rest your head on her shoulder. About an hour or so was left until you reached Korea so Hana pulled out her phone and started playing random games until you landed.
A small nudge to your head wakes you up. You grunt from the pain in your neck after having to lean down at an awkward angle to rest on Hana but it was worth it. Hana gets up first, she had only gotten a few minor bruises since she was shielded in her Mech. Her hand outstretches to you and you take it gratefully, boosting yourself with your free hand for extra support.
The walk through your headquarters is a painful one. Your arm is wrapped around Hana's shoulders as you limp to your shared room. Every now and then she glances at you with a worried gaze but you meet it with a half smile.
Once you two reach the room, your mind is set on hibernating for the next few weeks but Hana has other plans. She drags you to the bathroom, grumbling something about cleaning you up.
You sit on the toilet lid as you watch the small girl pull out the med kit from the drawers.
"How long do you think we're gonna do this?"
The words escape you faster than you thought they would. Hana glances up at you with a confused expression.
"What do you mean?"
"Like..Missions and protecting the world. I love it but I don't think it's sustainable for my body. Next thing you know I'm gonna be losing a body part like Cass or Rein."
A small punch is delivered to your arm at the joke.
"But doesn't it feel hard for you too? And I mean mentally"
Hana pulls out a cotton pad and dabs saline solution onto it, she brings it up to a cut on your nose bridge.
"Yeah, I'm definitely a lot safer because of my Mech but I get the mental part. Sometimes I feel like my youth and "golden years" have been stolen away from me to protect Korea but it was my choice, you know?"
The sting from the saline disinfecting your wounds makes it hard to respond but you nod with shut eyes.
"But don't stress, I'm sure we can retire at some point. Then we can be old and domestic like your cheesy movies."
Hana kisses the tip of your nose at the end of her sentence which makes you smile.
"I can't wait to grow old with you"
She rolls her eyes at the corny line but her smile grows from it. Once she's done disinfecting everything, she nudges you towards the shower. Hana strips first and turns on the hot water. Normally you would be jumping up and down at a chance to shower with her but the effort it takes to stand makes you dread it.
Throughout the shower Hana washes your body gently, making sure to kiss your cheek apologetically whenever you wince from the pain. You both towel off and you launch yourself at the bed, content to just lay there naked.
A cool gel being applied to your body makes you jump. You look towards your torso to see Hana rubbing the gel along your ribs and stomach to help the bruising. She applies bandages on those spots to lock in the gel. The way she pokes out the tip of her tongue as she concentrates makes you smile adoringly at her.
When she packs up the med kit you pull her down to lay next to you.
"What about you?"
"I'm fine, I probably got one bruise at most"
"Oh! That reminds me-"
You lean down to kiss her lips softly. When the kiss ends you kiss only her bottom lip which makes her giggle.
"What're you doing weirdo?"
"Kissing your lip better"
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"The Assistant and The Star"
Chapter 4: The Solstice Ceremony
Three times did the trumpet sound. Everyone within Rosas were gathering at the castle. Before the raised platform, stood two rows of soldiers surrounding a large sum of people. Every soldier held up a shield and faced the outside crowd. Ahead of that row was Dario. Next to him stood the youngest and shortest recruit for the army. Short brown hair and holding a small shield, he had a shovel in hand. Before them both was an angry old woman.
“Come on, boy! I only gave a wish last month! Can’t I give him another wish today?!” The old woman demanded. Dario shook his head. She wasn’t on his list and he didn’t know her name but he recognised her face. She did give a wish last month, so she completed her yearly tax. “That was the only wish you can give. You can only make a new wish next year.” He signed. The lady scoffed. “This is ridiculous! I used to make a wish to the King every month 15 years ago! We all could!" She spread out her arms, registering everyone coming down to the castle. "Can’t he make an exception? What if I told you that I knew his assistant.” She cooned.
“No, you don't.” The recruit named Gabo chipped in. He took three steps towards her. “Listen. I don’t know why the King is taking less wishes. It’s not my job to know. I don't care enough to know. You’re welcome to stay to watch the Ceremony but wait until next year to make another wish.”
The old woman crossed her arms and sighed. “Okay.” She said while she turned around. She took a few steps away before taking a running start back and leaped over Gabo to the lineup. Dario was quick and snatched her midair. He placed over his shoulder and walked away even as she thrashed. “Put me down, you giant brute! I will-”
*BONK*
“OW!” She cried, placing a hand on the spot of her head where Gabo’s shovel was. He pointed it to her. ”Next year. New Wish." He told her sternly. Gabo then smiled, “Enjoy the Ceremony.”
Dario gently put the woman down on her feet and returned to Gabo's side. She was stunned. Mouth agape at their “audacity”, but left nonetheless.
“Is this what you have to deal with every month?” Gabo said. Dario sadly nodded.
“Well why didn’t you tell me sooner? I'll try to convince my aunt to let me out here monthly.”
Gabo’s aunt, Martha Weber, is an officer for the royal guard and in charge of positioning guards to surround those giving their first wish of the year. To protect the line from scavengers that will try to sneak in to make another wish. Gabo has been a recruit for 2 years but he is 15 years old, too young to be a guard or be given a real sword. He’s not even supposed to be out with the guard tonight.
Dario asked Gabo a week prior to help him handle aggravated locals. After a good 3 days of persuasion, Weber allowed her nephew to help guard at the Ceremony, but only for today. He still wasn’t allowed a steel sword but there were no rules against steel shovels.
As those two worked on, another pair slowly made their way to the castle. Sakina and Sabino. "Saba? Are you alright?" Sakina asked Sabino, who dragged his feet behind her. Utterly exhausted. It was a long and disappointing day for Sabino. He was out in the city all day with his lute. He played loud, he played slow, he played fast, he played as he danced! All his best efforts to attract attention to his music, but no one stayed. No one stood by to hear the entirety of a song or cared to consider what it meant. Only ones that came and stayed were a few stray cats and geese, all of whom who walked away well roused.
His songs had their desired effect but no human had enough patience to let them work.
"It's a tale as old as time, Sakina." He sighed.
"Saba. You should rest yourself and your mandolin for a while." Sabino nodded to that. There was another suggestion Sakina needed to make but how could she phrase that it might be considerable but not ruin his mood further."
"And, dare I say it, would you like to sit back and let Magnifico take over the reins on your wish? And play your music for yourself?"
"No." Saba said with no hesitation.
"Listen, I know this is important to you but, you've been doing it for so long. Maybe focuse on playing for yourself without public attention."
"Sakira!" Sabino looked at her with wide eyes. "You might as well tell a baker to not to care that no one ate their large cake!" He held up his mandolin case. "I didn't spend my 40s learning the mandolin to not share music with others."
"Yes. I understand that but... the public eyes are dull. They have the same with the dancers. Unless it has to due with the King or a wish, you have their attention for 5 seconds. They light up for as long as the Magnifico or Asha is around."
"And it is because of their apathy that I do what I do. The years I spent learning my craft were some of my best, and I want others to live that luxury. I'm happy to let Magnifico help me but I don't want to sit by and do... nothing with my power." He looked up into the sky. Still too bright for stars to show. "I had this wish since Tomás was a boy and took me to see the stars. And it breaks my heart to think that matter how many times I write it down or how long I work on it, I might not live to see it come true." Sabino looked to the castle. "Must it take the death of a man for people to re embrace the growth of artistry?"
"And you still work to revive Rosas, even if you only reach one person?"
He held his mandolin case tighter as he turned to her. "No one deserves to live and die without a chance to attempt to make dreams come true." He smiled at her.
Sakina became quiet at his words. She looked at him with uncertainty. Sabino simply looked back with determination. She placed a soft kiss on his cheek. They stood in silence in the light of the sunset before continuing on to castle.
- - -
At the side, behind the stage, Queen Amaya and Assistant Asha were seated in two elegant chairs. In Asha's lap was the ceremonial chest. In her hands, her favorite sketchbook. She showed the Queen a sketch of a boy with a giant robot.
"That is a neat concept. Are they friends?"
"Best friends. The boy reads the giant stories. I got idea from Talos."
"The bronze giant? Built by the god, Hephaestus?"
"Yeah, that one! Though this one would be iron."
"Then that boy is the luckiest kid!" Amaya chuckled. "Also, I read the book you recommended. Treasure Island. And it gave me an idea."
"Oh." Amaya cocked an eyebrow as Asha flipped through her sketches and showed her a picture of a boy on a flying sail boat over a village.
"You made him so cute!" Amaya admired.
"Thank you. The book saved me from my creative slump last month." She closed the sketchbook and placed it in her bag. "It's a shame so few people know about it."
Amaya sighed as she crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair. "Too many great stories were lost to time because no one in charge of spreading its word had faith that it would spawn great profits."
Suddenly, a ray of light blasted from the stage. The people were stunned and silent. From the light, countless little phantoms erupted up and swept down, just above the crowd. People shrieked and ducked! Most only flew about, crying like the wind. Some phantoms landed on heads. Ruffling hair and tossing hats. Everyone was bewildered but stayed in place as the phantoms went about.
While the people were distracted, Asha stood up. She nodded goodbye to the Queen and headed to the back of the stage behind the beaming light. Out of view, she pulled a large, folded bag from her work sachel.
The light still beamed and two yellow dots began to show. They grew larger and larger and then two winged Serpents emerged. The light disappeared as the serpents conducted their bit. Slow as a summer's breeze, one swallowed the phantoms midair like a whale swallowed plantain. The other went down and gently plucked naughty phantoms from people's heads before eating them. People awed at the glowing serpents. Some took the chance to pet their fluffy coats.
All phantoms erased, the low serpent flew up to meet the other. They flew around each other in a circular motion that you could say was a dance. They glowed brighter, coming together in a soft embrace, the two serpents fused into a yellow orb that shined like the sun. The orb rose higher and shoned horizontally and bursted into a wide ranged spray of sparkles. The people cheered and grabbed at the magic glitter raining down on them.
As the people focused on the glitter, the beacon of light vanished, revealing Magnifico with Asha behind him. The little chest on the floor. He raised his staff and banged it down the platform, making a deafening sound that pulled the people's attention to him. "Good evening, Rosas! It is pleasure to see you all today." His voice rang throughout the gathering. The crowd went wild at the voice of their wish granting king. He smiled and spread out his arms as they praised his title. Some tossing flowers onto the stage.
He lowered and limbs and took on a stoic pose. "Now, first line of action." He pointed his staff to the first pair of people in the line between the guards. "Care to come forward?" They stood still, looking up at him with anxiety. This is their first wish ceremony. They have a wish to give but how will he take it? Does he need a coin? Do they have to whisper it? Does he need a hair?
Magnifico sensed their unfamiliarity and moved his staff behind him to let Asha hold it. He needed both hands for this operation. "It's alright, there is no cost. I'll explain how this works."
Slowly, they walked the stairs up onto the platform. They bowed once they were before him. "What are your names?" He asked.
"Helena Sanderson, your grace." One said.
"Esteban Aetos, your majesty." Said the other.
"Helena and Esteban. Lovely to make your acquaintance. And you both wish to live in this kingdom?"
"Yes, your grace." Helena said, Esteban nodded.
"Alright. Give me hands please." The pair laid out their crossed hands and Magnifico laid his hand in each of theirs. "Now close your eyes and make a wish. Reap it from the depths of your heart." He whispered. The two followed suite, lowering their heads. One deep breathe in, and their chests glowed as the wish began to manifest. Magnifico's fingers slowly curled as he gently pulled a yellow mist from their chests and had it spiral within his palm. Once released, the mist was encased inside a gray bubble. He watched the wishes and both bubbles turned blue. He smiled, for their hearts were well intentioned.
The new citizens were less confident in their circumstance. They felt different. What was expected to be a weight lifted from their shoulders felt like a piece of themselves had gone missing. A vital piece. A piece that they no longer remembered. They looked back at the King for answers. "I understand that you're worried, but I can assure you. You will be safe here. Your wishes will be safe as well." They turned around and faced the crowd. Everybody cheered for the new citizens but they were still befuddled. Magnifico's words didn't bring comfort to their feeling but at least they got to stay? Before the cheering crowd, all they could do was to awkwardly wave before descending the platform.
Asha watched them from the middle of the stage, holding the staff and bag. The familiar pang of sadness in her heart. It was the same reaction for every new comer giving up their first wish. The newfound emptyness. The hunger to follow. Anything and everything done to fulfill it. The deepest wish, a window to the soul that Magnifico needed to see if the people here were well-intentioned and were gentle the next year. This was best for the kingdom, right?
Magnifico turned to her with the wishes in hand and she opened up the bag. He sent the bubbles floated into the sack. He turned back around to see one more person on the stage. He asked for their name, then manifested their wish. Asha stood by and kept the bag open for each wish to be collected. There were many people in line up today. Fortunately, she had more sacks.
The line got shorter and Asha's third sack continued to fill. Newcomers left the stage disheartened, old residents left the stage tired. The last person left with a wobble in their step. With Magnifico holding the staff and the chest still on the floor, Asha tied up the last sack and carried two of them back inside the castle. They weren't heavy but they were big. They were up to her neck in height. The last one hidden away, that concluded the first part of the Ceremony. Now was time for the raffle.
Asha took up the chest and opened the lid wide. "Now! Who's wish shall be granted at this hour?" He called out to the people as Asha lifted the wishes into the air. The crowd hollered at the sight of them. Praying that it was their wish on display. "First wish of the day. Graceful and vibrant as a butterfly. Sania Osman!" He called out. Everyone clapped as a woman near the side shrieked aloud. "It's me! IT'S ME! HE CALLED ME! Oh, great Heavens!" She shouted, squeezing her to the staircase. Once on stage, she vibrated like a bee! It was five months ago that she gave up her wish, and now she was having it publicly granted. "Next, with the heart and will of a bull! Agni Pal!" A man nearly collapsed upon the announcement and people applauding him. Agni Pal, dressed in deep brown, came onto the platform. "And last but not least. With a love for the arts." Within the crowd, Sakina and Sabino looked up at the king. Was he looking at them? "One with a great love for their occupation and needs to maintain their craft for the hope of the people." Magnifico was indeed, looking at them. Sabino cling onto Sakina's arm harder, excited. Was it actually today? Could he still be the influence that people needed?
"Sakina Astrada!" He held out his hand in her direction. Sakina face lit up before turning shocked. She looked at Saba. His a face bleak with newfound disappointment. "...Oh, Saba." She said, caressing his back. Sabino laid his hand on her shoulder and gave her a warm smile. "It's alright, mi lily. Go on and get your wish. I'll have it another day."
She gave Sabino a hug before going.
Sakina smiled to Asha once she was on the platform. King Magnifico observed the three people in front of him. He took one wish from the chest. "Sania Osman." He turned to her. She started fanning herself as he took her wish from the chest and held it in front of her. "As the summer lavender blooms for the bees, it is my pleasure to grant your heart's desire." As he said this, the wish glowed yellow. The bubble faded to reveal a yellow silk moth inside. It took flight and went above Sania's head. Moving in a circle, the moth emitted a silk like stream from its wings. The moth flew down with the silk floating behind it. Sania rose her hands to try and catch it, but it zoomed around her arms, binding them in silk. Sania peeped at the tingling sensation in her arms as the moth sat on her enclosed knuckles, waiting for the rest of the silk to fall, cutting off it's end of the silk. Once the first end of the silk fell past her knees, the moth zipped to that end and glided up. The silk split and vanished where the moth passed, as though it were cut by scissors. Smooth as water, the moth glided back up, cutting Sania's arms free. Stretching its body midair, it took a new form. Before the audience, Sania reached out as the moth transformed into a pair of golden scissors that gently fell into her hands. Her wish, to be the greatest dressmaker in her family. Sania couldn't hold back her tears. This was the greatest day of her life. Agni and Sakina clapped for the lucky lady. The audience applauded.
Magnifico pulled out another wish. "Agni Pal. As the Sun shines his longest day, it is my honor to grant your deepest passion." Agni and the others watched as the wish revealed a yellow flame moth. It took flight and begun flying in circles. Agni was confused. Why was his doing that? Before he could say anything, the moth started emitting sparks. It circled faster, casting more sparks when-
~FLOOUSH
The moth combusted. Engulfed in flames but intact. Agni shrieked and shielded himself as the flaming moth came at him. It zoomed and landed on his head. Then, Agni was engulfed in flames. Everyone screamed at the visual. Everyone but Magnifico and Amaya. Agni held up his arms. Just like the moth, he wasn't burning. He looked around the panicked masses. He looked at Sania and Sakina. "Does it... hurt?" Asked Sakina. He shook his head. He felt itchy. Only a mild discomfort as his muscle memory was reconstructed much more drastically than Sania. He felt his hair and removed the moth. He held the upturned moth in his palms like one would hold a bird when the fire on his body retreated from the feet up and transformed in different areas. Fire converged on his front, turning into a long, black apron. The remaining fire receded to his arms, shaping into thick, black gloves. The moth stretched out his wings and glowed like molten glass. It grew and morphed into a blob before splitting into two parts in each hand. The forms stopped glowing as they completed their transformations. A hammer and tongs. Speechless but extatic, Agni raised his tools and crossed them above his head. The crowd cheered and the other two clapped. His wish, to be an expert blacksmith.
Now for the last wish of the evening. "Sakina Astrada. At the hour of dusk, I witness your integrity and grace. It is with great pride and humility, that I fulfill your heart's will." Her wish unfolded around another yellow silk moth. It crawled onto the tips of Magnifico's fingers. It sat there for a good minute, looking at Sakina with curiosity before flying. It flew up around her body, examining her, and Sakina placed out her hands. She stared amazed as the moth landed in her cup hands. Her wish looked back at her with warmth before snuggling in her palms. Overwhelmed by the warmth and gentleness of the wish, Sakina leaned in and placed a little kiss on top of the moth's head. From where it promptly fell asleep. Agni and Sania stared at the wish, promptly confused. No sparks? No silk? No flashy colors? Any dramatic transformation? What was her wish doing? Surely, it wasn't just sleeping in her hands. Sakina showed the moth to Asha with a proud look on her face. This was her first wish to be ceremonially granted! "It's beautiful." Asha signed. It became too quiet for anyone to consider speaking. She turned and showed the moth to the audience. They were also confused. The silence was broken in a series of whispers. "Is this a joke?" Someone went. "Is it broken, what is it doing?" Somebody else went. "Poor lady. Her wish might be a buzzkill."
Sabino looked around. Slightly angry at everyone whispering down on her wish. He clapped loudly! "Yaaaaaay. It's amazing!" He cheered. The people stared at him like he was mad but Sakina smiled at his support. The moth awakened and stretched its body. The moth took to the air where it suddenly turned into an orb that begun growing. The crowd went silent, it was happening. Sakina stepped back as the orb grew larger and larger. When it finally stopped, it was as large as Sakina's body. Slowly, she reached out and touched it. And then the orb popped. In it's place was a spinning wheel. The people looked at each other and back at the spinning wheel, slightly agitated. A spinning wheel? They knew Sakina was a good seamstress but, she didn't wish to be the greatest seamstress? For golden cotton? A golden spinning wheel? It wasn't even a sort of metal, the moth did the least and most for a wooden spinning wheel.
Sakina step forward and passed her hand over the wheel. Smooth, dark oak. She gently gripped and turned the wheel. It spun without any creek or rattle. And last, with a single finger, she tapped the spindle of the wheel. It was pointed but the was rounded, and it didn't splinter. Sakina could cry. It was perfect! A spitting image of her old one. The applause of Agni and Sania was soft and unconfident. Still upended by her wish. How and why would Magnifico grant such a simple wish? Was it Sakina's relationship with his assistant?
She turned to Magnifico and bowed down. "Thank you so much your majesty." Magnifico smiled at the appreciation. "The pleasure is mine." Magnifico addressed the crowd. "People of Rosas! The wishes of the Summer Solstice!" The kingdom erupted in cheers and praises for the King and the prizemen.
Asha looked on as the people applauded those on stage. There was variety of people thrilled by the visuals and disappointed that they weren't selected. Agni and Sania made their way off the platform. Sakina picked up the spinning wheel and gave Asha a wink before following suit. "Rosas!" Magnifico called out to the audience. "May this Summer bring us warmth and prosperity! Vitality and transformation! Go forth and indulge in the festivities of this night and the next." With his blessings said, fireworks fired off. Explosions off red, orange, blue and white lit up the darkening sky. The Ceremony has concluded.
"Asha." Magnifico came to face her. "As I have mentioned before, I have someone in the throne room who can assist you on your outing later. Come this way." He said before walking away. Before she could follow, a strange feeling stopped Asha in her tracks. A feeling of someone burning holes in the back of her head.
'Don'tturnaround. Don'tturnaround. Don'tturnaround. Don'tturn-'
"Asha?" At her side, Queen Amaya came up from behind her with warm and concerned eyes. "Are you alright?" It wasn't from her. Magnifico had stopped walking to look back at her. "Oh, I'm alright." Asha said. "Just a little tired." Amaya nodded and led her with Magnifico.
Little to their knowledge, somebody in the crowd south from them was actually watching them intently. A woman with long, blonde sausage curls stared at Asha but not like the other stares that she received. Some stared at her with excitement, want, and sometimes envy. But the stare of this woman, was of hostility.
Inside the castle, Magnifico opened the door to the throne room with a wave of his hand and let the two women enter first. "Do you have an extra guard?" Asked Asha. The room was dimly lit by the remaining sunlight from the large windows. "Kind of. Someone smaller but well fit." Magnifico remarked. "And adorable." Amaya added with a chuckle. Magnifico blew a whistle with his fingers. There was no response. Magnifico frowned and blew his fingers again. Again no response. "Charo! Will you please come out here. I have a job for you." There was a growl from across the room. From behind the Queen's throne, a pair of green eyes showed within the shadows. An Iberian Lynx slowly made his way to the monarchs. Dropping a pig's bone from its mouth. "Asha. This is Charo. Charo, this is Asha." Charo sat down at the Queen's feet and yowled. "You... have a pet lynx?" Asha asked. "Yes. He's shy and doesn't like being out in the city so most don't know about him. He's our little guardian lynx. He helps me travel through the city." Amaya bent down and picked up the 30 pound cat. "Charo. Could you escort Asha home and ward off anyone that makes her uncomfortable?" Charo looked between Amaya and Asha and gave an affirmative yowl. Asha was wide-eyed and shook her head. "Your majesties, I am grateful for the offer but I don't think I can take him. It's rather extensive to take a large animal with me. I shouldn't take such a prized creature to go home." She retorted. 'Especially after offending the King'. Asha thought.
"This is a gift, Asha." Magnifico emphasized, concerned. "I said that I knew someone who could get you home and I am a man of my word. He can make his way back to us after. My duty is to protect the people of Rosas. And that includes you." Amaya placed Charo down on his paws. He walked over to Asha, sniffing her body and then rubbed his side against her legs. "I insist Asha. Please. Don't endanger yourself to try and convenience us." Asha stood still as the lynx took in her scent, she smiled at his gentleness and nodded to the monarchs. "Then it is settled." He scratched Charo behind his ear. "Protect her with your life, Charo. Have a great and safe evening, Asha." Magnifico said. With the doors still open, Charo was the first to walk out. The King and Queen bid Asha goodnight before she left. With the doors shut behind her, Asha went to see Charo against the wall near the doors. "Hello." She said to him. " Oh, shoot! I forgot to mention. I have a baby goat with me. Do you eat goats?" Charo looked at her as though she just asked what bread was. "Right, wrong question. Sorry." She put her hands on her hips as she thought of a different question. "Are you hungry right now?" He licked his paw and blinked at her. No. He won't be for a while. Alright. They're all set to leave.
A/N:
This took longer than expected but I cut it shorter than intended but I want to write a wholesome chapter.
I finally got to conduct my moth Ceremony! I wish the movie told us what Sakina's wish was so I made her up a mild one that would test the ideals of the people and hint to her own values. All the while, present the correlation of loved ones of the King's assistant having their wishes granted sooner.
@annymation @signed-sapphire @mythartist21 @wings-of-sapphire @chillwildwave @rascalentertainments @oh-shtars @uva124 @kstarsarts @hopeyarts @spectator-zee
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@tarnishedxknight - continued from here
Words couldn't express how proud she was of Caelen for his determination and effort to learn how to fight. Gylfie knew how tender his heart was, and as much as she wanted nothing more than to protect it and shield him from the horrors she constantly dealt with, she also knew it... simply wasn't feasible. Old Archades could be a dangerous place, and with their darling Myra... she needed him to know how to protect himself and their daughter. As much as she wanted to be there for them both, she couldn't. Not always, and not as often as she'd like.
Yet, despite that fateful day on the battlefield where they had first met, when he had been struggling with his panic, he took her training in stride. He was awkward at times, yes, and he had a lot to learn, but, by the gods, was he learning quickly. Gylfie was not only proud of him, but impressed by his tenacity as well, and she was more than pleased by his progress. And... well, as serious as she kept their sessions, what harm was there with the occasional play in it as well?
She felt his stance relax as she leaned into him, and stifled a laugh as she felt him grin against her lips. She pulled her head away from him, still holding him close, and smiled coyly up at him. "Am I now?" Gylfie said sweetly, and tilted her head as she blinked at him innocently. "Whatever do you mean, my light?"
Ah, but it wasn't a front she could keep, and with a soft laugh, she unhooked her dagger from his weapon, and leaned into his returned kiss. She couldn't help but smile against Caelen's lips as she pressed her cheek into his palm and nuzzled him, as she lifted her free hand and rested it against his chest. Gods above, how she loved him, and she wanted nothing more than to stay in the moment with him. To keep kissing him, to hold him close, and to ignore everything else that awaited them both outside.
Slowly, Gylfie broke their kiss to catch her breath, but kept her cheek against his palm as she smiled at him - her expression soft and filled with a warm affection. "I think we can call it here," she murmured, and sheathed her weapon so she could rest her hand against his. "You did well, my dear Caelen. 'Tis not an easy thing, but you've been learning quickly. I hope you're proud of yourself - I know I am." She kissed his palm tenderly, though mirth began to dance in her eyes, and her smile widened. "Besides, I do like the idea of kissing you more than training, I will admit."
#tarnishedxknight#auv; with every heartbeat i have left i'll defend your every breath#s; how do we rewrite the stars? say you were made to be mine / gylfie & caelen#((...okay I'm gonna feel a little bad for suggesting this given how sweet this thread is rn heh#but y'know that gifset you reblogged about how Caelen would react if he had to kill someone?#and how we talked about what if Vayne found out about him and Myra and sent someone after them?#what if we did a lil jump from now to that situation where it ends with Gylfie rushing to the commotion#just after Caelen *is* forced to kill someone?))
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a simple name, and everything has changed
Summary: we said hello and your eyes look like coming home, Rhys POV chapters Or: Rhys's slow realization that he's mated to Prythian's most chaotic human (and how much he loves her for it) Warnings: implied/referenced sexual assault Word Count: ~3k
I decided to pull together some of my notes on what's going through Rhys's head and write a few Rhys POV chapters of we said hello and your eyes look like coming home! This is his POV of chapter six: this mad, mad love makes you coming running, which is his reunion with Feyre Under the Mountain.
Read on AO3, or you can find it under the cut.
The bond shifted as Feyre woke up. She was too tired to shield, each stab of pain from her broken ribs shooting across the thread tying us together. My own hand flew to my chest. Thank the Cauldron this hadn't happened until I'd finished enough rounds in Amarantha's bedroom that she was sleeping like the dead. A small mercy, but at least it went quicker now that I knew what she liked.
Even with her head swimming, Feyre was assessing her injuries and scrambling to her feet, like a prizefighter gearing up for a second round. All tenacity, which wouldn't be infuriating if she weren't hellbent on putting herself in danger. I winnowed to her cell.
At the sight of her covered in bruises, I couldn't hold back a snarl. She shouldn't have come down here—humans were so easy to hurt. "What the hell are you doing here, Feyre?" I said.
"I wasn't going to leave you down here to rot," she said. Her voice was strong, as if she hadn't just been unsteady on her feet a few seconds ago.
There was another bolt of pain from her broken nose, and I tamped down on the instinct to summon up a scrap of magic to heal every last injury. Everything in me was screaming to just winnow her back to Velaris, consequences be damned.
"You were supposed to be safe. If nothing else, that was the one thing—"
Yet again, she dug her heels in, cutting me off. "Who did you kill, Rhys?"
"A human woman about your size," I forced myself to say. I'd killed for her, and she had a right to know, even if it made me a monster in her eyes. "I mangled her corpse so it was unrecognizable, glamoured it to smell like you, and left it for Tamlin to find. Amarantha was delighted I'd sent him a clear message to think twice about breaking the curse. I didn't want anyone to come looking for you."
At first, she said nothing. The swelling and broken bones made her expression hard to read, but if I wasn't mistaken, she was thoughtful, not horrorstruck. I didn't understand it.
"What you're telling me is that you felt strongly enough about me to kill on my behalf after one night, but you didn't think I'd come back for you?"
That wasn't the point. I wasn't the point. All of this was to keep her safe, and for some reason I couldn't fathom, she was determined to get herself killed. Despite my best efforts, I was likely going to watch my mate die in front of me, sooner rather than later. Just the thought of it had darkness leaking from me.
"You have no idea how relieved I was when you got to Ve— When you got home. All of this was worth it if you were safe. But now you're not."
"You clearly think you're worthless, so If it makes you feel better, tell yourself I'm doing this for all of Prythian instead," she snapped, blue-grey eyes flashing. I stilled. "I can't go back now, so help instead of lecturing me."
For a moment, I said nothing, just blinked in surprise. I hadn't known what to expect coming down to her cell, but not for her to be upset with me. A horrible new possibility bloomed in the back of my mind—that she'd seen Velaris and discovered that somehow I hadn't protected my people as well as I'd thought and that she rightfully considered me a failure.
"Did you think I haven't been helping you this whole time?" I said, sounding pathetic even to my own ears. "Tamlin gave her your name, not me. While those faeries were beating you, I broke into their minds and ensured they didn't leave any permanent damage. It was the best I could do without them realizing I was in their heads. There were too many of them for me to also get into yours and take away your pain. I'm…sorry it wasn't enough."
She sighed and leaned back against the wall, the fire gone from her eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was small. "Thank you for all of it. I didn't— It's not that— I just…needed to know that you're in my corner. That's enough. You're enough."
I didn't understand Feyre—and odds were, I'd never get the chance to—but I was suddenly very certain that someone important had abandoned her. Maybe more than once.
One day, I'd kill whoever had done that to her.
But now, we had a task at hand, and I needed her to know I was on her side and always would be. I'd do everything I could for her, even if Under the Mountain, that wasn't much.
"May I?" I said, reaching a hand towards her face.
She nodded, and I swept my thumb along the small patch of unblemished skin on her cheek. For the first time in weeks, I was touching my mate.
The crackle of electricity along the bond told me she was thinking along the same lines.
Fifty years Under the Mountain made it a wonder to touch someone I wanted to touch. It didn't matter that it was nothing more than the pad of my thumb brushing her cheek, the feeling was intoxicating. I'd never wanted to put my hands all over someone like this.
And I could feel that she wanted it, too.
"I can't heal everything without arousing suspicion, but I won't let a crooked nose mar the most beautiful face in Prythian," I said, sounding more like the person I'd been before that bitch had trapped me here.
For a moment, Feyre looked too stunned to speak, which was ridiculous. It wasn't as if I'd been lying when I'd called her beautiful. "Are you flirting with me? Now?" she said, her voice seeming to rise several octaves.
I shrugged. "If not now, when?" She seemed to accept that answer. And the flirting had felt good—and probably kept us both somewhat sane—but I couldn't keep ignoring her obvious injuries. "I have to set it in place first. It will hurt," I added.
"Just do it. I won't scream," she said with a defiant lift of her chin.
By the Cauldron, if you dropped this woman in the middle of the Blood Rite, she'd make it to the top of Ramiel with no killing magic, just sheer stubbornness alone. I'd known plenty of human warriors, but they didn't hold a candle to Feyre. And she was my mate.
"So stoic. Are you sure I'm on the only Illyrian here?"
But she just looked at me expectantly—even a bit impatiently, if I was being honest—and I wanted to laugh. Nothing stopped her. With a bittersweet twinge of pride, I thought about how easily she must have slotted herself in with Cassian and Azriel.
True to her word, Feyre was silent as I pushed her nose back into place and reached for the scrap of magic I was still allowed, thanking the Mother that it was sufficient to heal Feyre's nose. Her grey-blue eyes just held mine through all of it.
"Thanks."
Once her pain abated, I could breathe easier. I kissed the tip of her nose and moved closer, her scent drawing me in. Or at least, the scent of the glamour hiding the bond. I drank it in anyway, resting my forehead against hers. That lavender and pear scent had haunted my dreams for years now, and it had kept me from breaking.
More clear-headed, I straightened up after a few moments. Amarantha wouldn't be asleep forever. "We need to plan while I have time with you."
"How did you manage to get down here for so long anyway?" Feyre said, immediately wincing. But at least this time, the movement in her face didn't send more pain lancing across the bond.
"I tired her out," I said, forcing a smile. Feyre still looked horrified, and I refused to burden her with this. I made a gesture to indicate it was no big deal and hoped she believed me.
Feyre started to pace. I leaned against the wall and watched her for a moment, just appreciating the view. I'd heard her describe me as feline in her thoughts often enough, but I don't think she really understood that in this cell, she was the one who moved like a caged tiger.
She didn't hesitate to get to the heart of the matter. "There's nothing stopping them from attacking me again, is there?"
"Whatever I'd have to subject you to in order to get you out of this cell might be worse," I said. It was an unpleasant truth, but there was no use in talking around it. "I may be able to spare you pain, but not humiliation."
"What are you thinking?"
"I can keep you with me if I treat you as a toy to taunt Tamlin with. Dress you up, degrade you in front of your so-called beloved, and make it clear to everyone else that I don't share."
I wished I had more to offer her, but I'd been turning this over in my mind for hours and hadn't come up with something better. I half-expected her to snap at me again, just for suggesting it. I wouldn't blame her for it.
She didn't, though, just shrugged and said, "There are worse fates."
I was glad she hadn't panicked, but it still seemed horribly insufficient. I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. "The trouble is, it may cause complications when we all get out of here."
"Complications?"
I was obvious enough to me, but maybe not to her. Since Calanmai, I'd been dreaming of what a future for us could look like when we got out of here but perhaps….perhaps she didn't want that, too. I reminded myself that she hadn't known about mating bonds until a few weeks ago. Feyre hadn't grown up thinking she could have a mate one day, and now she'd permanently accepted one without realizing what was happening.
If she didn't want anything to do with me, I understood completely. She deserved better. She deserved choices.
"A human will have enough trouble being respected as Lady of the Night Court, if…you want that," I said, hating how uncertain I sounded. I caught the look on her face that told me she'd noticed, and now wasn't the time to talk about it. I pushed ahead before she could interrupt. "Parading you like that in front of everyone here will make it worse, even after revealing it's a ruse."
Obviously frustrated, she just paced faster. It was an effort not to push past her shields and read her thoughts on the matter. She could tell me herself, no matter how curious I was.
Then abruptly she froze and said, "What about my maidenhead?"
Cold horror gripped me. The thought hadn't crossed my mind before, but I'd been foolish not to have seen it. Cauldron boil and fry me, Feyre was so young.
"Your maidenhead? Cauldron Feyre, on Calanmai, did I—"
"You didn't. And before you ask, Tamlin didn't either," she said, voice flat. That was strange—I hadn't been thinking of Tamlin at all. "But no one else needs to know that if you can ensure Tamlin and Lucien won't expose the lie. Tell everyone you intend to make an event of taking my virginity. It would give you a reason to make sure no one touches me and still leave me down here."
Brilliant. She was utterly brilliant, and I could have kissed her right then and there. Stubborn and strategic.
"Now there's an idea," I said, pressing my fingers together under my chin. The rest of the plan formed in my mind easily, the pieces coming together. "It would work, if only for a short while. They'll question why I haven't just done it if it drags on too long, but I'll take whatever time we can get. I'll ward the cell and have someone trusted bring a change of clothes and body paint for when Amarantha drags you out for housework."
Her smile could only be described as mischievous. If I wasn't mistaken, by some miracle, she was flirting back. "And of course you'll have to come down here frequently to ensure the paint is still intact."
"It would be far too important a task to delegate," I purred in that way I knew she liked.
Feyre gave me one more smile then resumed her pacing; I was beginning to suspect she never sat still. "And the riddle? Has she given it any consideration?" she said, all business again.
"Not yet, and before you ask, we've all been barred from helping you solve it or telling you the first task. I have her ear, and I'll keep pushing her to make plans that play to your strengths."
She nodded, and I shared everything I could think of that might give her some small advantage Under the Mountain. I couldn't arm her with weapons, just information. It was better than nothing. As I deposited the information in her head, I was careful not to push deeper into her mind accidentally. She deserved privacy.
We had a tentative plan in place, and I doubted Amarantha would stay asleep much longer. Swallowing my disgust, I brushed against her mental shields just briefly enough to reassure myself she was still asleep without alerting her.
I turned my attention back to Feyre quickly. "I don't have to go right this moment, but soon."
She nodded, not quite able to maintain that same stoicism from before. We were both suddenly very aware that I'd have to leave her here in this cell. The thought of it was already ripping me apart.
Feyre was impossible to leave. But if I had to force myself to do it, at least I'd leave her with something.
"Feyre, do you mind if I…Could— Could you please come here and take a seat?" I said.
She eyed me curiously but did as I said, sitting down on the pallet of hay that had been left for her. I knelt behind her, and she kept watching me over her shoulder. The confusion was still written all over her face, as if she had no idea that she was the only one in the world I'd ever willingly get on my knees for.
"That bruise towards the top of your ribs is going to make it uncomfortable to lift your arm, at least for another day or two," I said, sliding the tie off the end of her braid.
As gently as I could, I ran my fingers through her golden brown hair, smoothing out the tangles but mostly just savoring the feel of the strands against my fingers. Given the opportunity, I'd card my fingers through her hair for hours.
But we didn't have hours, so I started to braid. It had been centuries since I'd done this for anyone—Mor had been the first, when she'd insisted I learn because she didn't have any female friends in the Court of Nightmares, then my sister when she'd been a youngling, and eventually even Cassian when his hair had been longer and we'd been bored to tears in the war-camps and desperate for a laugh. And now Feyre.
"I won't be there if you wake up and vomit tonight, so consider this my way of holding your hair back for you," I said softly. I'd felt her nightmares, watched through the bond as she'd emptied her stomach into the toilet, and spent too many nights wishing I could be there for her.
It wasn't enough, but she needed to know she wasn't alone.
I tied off the end of her braid, and she turned to face me so we we sitting knee to knee "Thank you," she said. "And you have a lifeline, too, you know. Use it."
She tugged on the bond, and I nodded, unable to talk about this. It was something I couldn't bear to burden her with, not when she was looking at me so sadly. I was feeling horribly insufficient again. I'd done something for her, I realized, but maybe there was more she needed to hear me say.
"Don't think I'm not still upset with you, but while we can speak face-to-face, I should say that you were brilliant in that throne room. It was a clever bit of bargaining. And I know you were training before, but that much tenacity can't be taught. It's an innate gift."
She smiled. I memorized the sight of it because I'd made her smile. At least I was good for something.
"That's the nicest way anyone's called me stubborn," she said.
Somehow, I was smiling, too. Under the Mountain, a real smile felt like an impossibility. But Feyre had made it happen.
She stood and held her hand out to me, as if she was ready to lead me out from this place. I took it and got to my feet, desperate to follow her.
"Stay safe," she whispered, ridiculous as it was when she'd just thrown herself into the line of fire in that throne room.
"You too," I said.
I wanted to kiss her goodbye, but my eyes landed on the swelling in her lips. Even the slightest pressure against that might hurt, and I wouldn't risk causing her pain.
And besides, Feyre Archeron was the Queen of Night. A beating and a cell didn't change that, and she deserved to be treated like it. And I was still a High Lord of Prythian, even Under the Mountain. I bent at the waist and kissed the back of her hand, then winnowed away.
Before summoning Nuala and Cerridwen, I took a moment to breathe. On the other end of the bond, Feyre—brilliant, brave, unstoppable Feyre—was already thinking about makeshift weapons.
We were going to get out of here.
#feysand#pro rhysand#a simple name and everything has changed#we said hello and your eyes look like coming home
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Like a Fairy
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
No Archive Warnings
Written for UsaMamo Week 2023, Day 6
An injured Usagi leads the nijizuishou to not only replenish her energy, but also form the Ginzuishou.
Note: I really wanted to write a calm, descriptive feeling surrounding the Ginzuishou and wings. Instead I'm on this Reveal AU kick. I hope this is still enjoyable!
“I am the beautiful sailor-suited Senshi, Sailor Moon! In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you! – AHHHH!” The Senshi of the moon started running haphazardly as the youma began hurling acidic projectiles her way.
“Supreme Thunder!”
“Akuryo Taisan!”
“I didn’t sign up for this!” Sailor Moon screamed, still running.
“You stupid Senshi,” Zoisite said, twirling a lock of his hair, the final nijizuishou in his grasp. “Now if only Cape Boy shows up, we can finally end this.”
A red rose flew right into the youma’s chest, causing it to scream and cease its projectile throwing. Sailor Moon doubled over in relief.
“I’m not giving up my nijizuishou, Zoisite,” Tuxedo Kamen said firmly as he went to Sailor Moon’s side. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you, Tuxedo Kamen-sama.” She drew herself up to her full height. “Moon Tiara Boomerang!” she cried. Instead of disintegrating, the youma exploded upon impact, catching Sailor Moon full on.
“SAILOR MOON!”
Sailor Moon felt her fuku start to disintegrate, burning the injuries underneath. It was unbearable. “Forgive me,” she told her Senshi as she released her henshin, panting weakly. Before anyone could react, Zoisite had teleported to Usagi’s side, holding her like a shield, a hand holding her neck and the underside of her jaw, tilting her face upward.
“The nijizuishou, now!” Zoisite demanded.
Tuxedo Kamen was trembling, staring at the girl he knew all too well. His hand twitched in indecision.
“LET GO OF ME YOU JERK!”
Everyone, even Zoisite, fell to their knees at the ear-shattering noise, allowing Usagi to roll away from the Dark Kingdom General. “How DARE you use me as a hostage!” she shouted, clutching her torso in pain. The others raced to her side, shielding her protectively. Sailor Mercury was scanning Usagi swiftly while Sailor Mars and Sailor Jupiter looked ready to do damage. Tuxedo Kamen stood behind Usagi, ready to whisk her away at any moment.
“It doesn’t look good, Moon,” Sailor Mercury murmured. Usagi’s energy was draining from her wounds.
“It doesn’t matter,” Usagi murmured back, trembling with the effort to stand. “He’s not going to stop until he’s taken out all of us.”
“We should retreat-“
“No! I’m not letting Tuxedo Kamen-sama face him alone. And remember – I have nijizuishou, too. As Zoisite says, this ends here.” She took a deep breath before yelling, “Moon Prism Power, Make Up!” The magic enveloped her, coruscating in the night. Once again she was clad in her fuku, striking her signature pose, eyes glittering furiously at Zoisite. “For wreaking havoc and attempting extortion, I will not forgive you!”
“Big words from a little girl,” he said. “How old are you, twelve?”
“How old are you, with all of those wrinkles?”
“How dare you! I keep my face properly moisturized, thank you very much!”
There was a beat of silence.
“I didn’t know the Dark Kingdom had skincare products,” Sailor Jupiter snickered.
“Whatever it is, it’s not working,” Sailor Mars said with a smirk.
“SHUT UP!” Zoisite roared, flinging Dark Energy at them. All of them blocked; however, Sailor Moon, being already injured, fell to her knees. She was consequently cocooned in Tuxedo Kamen’s cloak.
“Stay with me,” Tuxedo Kamen murmured to Sailor Moon.
“I might not make it,” she gasped. “Just focus on yourself.”
“No.”
She blinked then looked up at him. She couldn’t make out his expression behind the mask. “Protect our princess, please,” she whispered, handing him her nijizuishou. “That’s all I ask.” She went limp, the henshin once again falling.
“Moon!” Mercury screamed as she ran to her friend’s side, having noted the critical energy levels.
“That’s one Senshi down,” Zoisite taunted as he started throwing more Dark Energy blasts at them.
“SAILOR MOON! WAKE UP! PLEASE!” The girls all screamed as they dodged the attacks. Then something miraculous happened. The nijizuishou appeared, hovering over Usagi, glittering with energy. She floated upward as the nijizuishou encircled her, like electrons around a nucleus, faster and faster, its magic reflecting off her pale skin. Then the nijizuishou coalesced, their colors mixing until a glittering crystal formed. The Maborishino Ginzuishou had formed at last. It lowered itself and disappeared into Usagi’s chest, the impact causing silver light to extend from every pore of her body. Then she was lowered onto the ground, slowly and carefully, back where she’d been by Tuxedo Kamen’s side, still sleeping, once again Sailor Moon.
“Her energy levels have stabilized,” Sailor Mercury said in wonder.
“MY GINZUISHOU!” Zoisite screamed, infuriated by this turn of events. He made to grab Sailor Moon.
“Supreme Thunder!”
“Akuryo Taisan!”
“Mercury Aqua Mist!”
Along with the three attacks, roses flew at the Dark Kingdom General. But he teleported, dodging effortlessly. A bubble surrounded Usagi; before anyone could stop it, she was back in Zoisite’s arms. With a sinister laugh Zoisite went to teleport back to the Dark Kingdom. Then a brilliantly bright light overcame them all, blinding them. The heroes felt the flutter of kisses brush their faces, energy caressing their forms. Zoisite screamed and gurgled, the power obviously overwhelming him. And then the light vanished. They blinked away the brightness. Sailor Moon, clad in wings, held a slumped over Zoisite in her arms. She lowered them slowly to the ground; the wings fading. The others moved to attack until Sailor Moon held up a hand. “He’s been healed,” she said simply; the others frowned in confusion.
“The Ginzuishou disappeared inside of you,” Sailor Mars said.
“Way to state the obvious, pyro.”
“No need to be snarky,” Sailor Mercury admonished, scanning Sailor Moon.
“Sorry. It’s been a long day.” She turned to Tuxedo Kamen who still hovered worriedly. “So, I guess I’m keeping your nijizuishou,” she said wryly.
“So it would seem.” He looked at Sailor Mercury expectantly.
“It’s disappeared,” Sailor Mercury said with a furrow of her brows.
“And her injuries?” Tuxedo Kamen pressed.
“You still have some physical injuries, Moon,” Sailor Mercury said worriedly.
“What’s today? Wednesday, right?” Sailor Moon asked.
“Yeah,” Sailor Jupiter confirmed.
Sailor Moon cursed. “I need to sleep this off.”
“Can you get your mom to sign off on a sick day?” Sailor Mars asked worriedly.
“No. The best I can do is sleep in.”
“You always sleep in.”
“I’ll just go slow, you know. Not run. Not…bump into things. What’s one detention anyway? Or a few…however long this is going to heal.”
“Business as usual, eh, Moon? So, what are we going to do about Zoisite?” Sailor Jupiter asked.
“He’s healed,” Sailor Moon said with a shrug.
“So…”
“Leave him,” Tuxedo Kamen said shortly. “Healed or not, what he did was unforgiveable.” He looked Sailor Moon up and down.
Sailor Moon blushed. “I’ll be fine,” she said gently. “Let’s just go home – wha-” she gasped as Tuxedo Kamen picked her up.
“I’m not leaving you to go home by yourself,” he said firmly.
“We can get her home, Tuxedo Kamen!” Sailor Mars said.
“Yeah, she’s not telling you who she is or where she lives,” Sailor Mercury added.
“I’ll be alright,” she promised, a gloved hand reaching out to cup his face.
His jaw clenched. “Very well,” he said reluctantly, releasing her.
She turned towards the group, blinking slowly. Then the silver light radiated once more, and ethereal wings expanded outward. Upward she flew, gracefully, with a trail of sparkles in her wake, like a fairy. The others were stunned as they watched her go, before they quickly dispersed. Tuxedo Kamen broke their unspoken rule; he flew after her coruscating form, watching until she reached what he assumed was her bedroom window. He hovered on a nearby rooftop long after the lights went out, waiting for a sign that she was alright, relieved that she did leave her home – late as usual – but at a slow pace. He quickly backtracked until he met her at their usual place, but this time he didn’t collide with her; instead, expressing his worry, he walked her to school. He spent the rest of the day being kind and solicitous until she grew suspicious of his interest. Still, he refused to fight with her.
He would worry about the Ginzuishou and the princess later. He knew the Senshi and he were on the side of protecting the princess. He was willing to work through whatever needed to happen – no matter how long it took.
Meanwhile, a bewildered Zoisite, who had lived on Earth more than a thousand years ago and had no memory of his doings while part of the Dark Kingdom, was roaming the streets of Juuban looking for the other Shitennou and his prince.
The End
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Sienna listened, arms loosely folded as she leaned back in her chair. There was something calming about Stella’s tone—matter-of-fact but not cold, guarded but still honest in a way that didn’t feel like a performance. It made her want to match that energy, not out of obligation but because it was rare to talk to someone without all the posturing Devil’s Junction usually demanded. “You’re doing them a kindness,” she said quietly, after a pause. “There’s something brave about letting people you love see only the lightest version of your life. Not because you’re hiding, but because you’re shielding. That kind of protection takes more effort than most people give it credit for.”
She tilted her head a little, something like a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “And honestly, it’s refreshing talking to someone who just... gets it. No theatrics. No weird power play. Just normal.” The word came out with a faint laugh, like she knew how impossible that was in this city. “I don’t remember the last time a conversation didn’t feel like a transaction.” Her fingers toyed with the edge of her cup. “It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Drawing that line between what you give to the people you love and what you keep to yourself so they can still sleep at night.” Sienna looked back up at her, eyes soft. “Whatever your version of ‘consulting’ really means—I hope they never have to know. That kind of separation, if you can keep it, is its own kind of grace.”
"It definitely feels more like yours when you start changing things," she said, understanding that shift from maintaining someone else's vision to making it your own. "And yeah, this place does have its own safety once you stop fighting the chaos." Her sister and cousin were the reason she'd stayed, but they were also the reason she kept so much hidden. They knew she helped people find information, sure, but the casino politics and underground networks? That stayed buried. Some protection came through distance, even with people you loved. "They know I work in consulting," she said, keeping it vague. "Information gathering, research for clients. But the specifics ... they don't need that weight. My sister especially has enough on her plate without worrying about who I'm meeting with or what kind of problems people bring to me." The family loyalty that had pulled her here also meant keeping them safely separate from the messier parts of her work.
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