#she’s had to be strong to survive but now she’s learning she doesn’t need to be in trauma mode

[missafroditee]

when i tell you that frontal lobe coming in hot.

[juletheghoul]

covetous

a/n: Jesus Maggie, you really called me out on my bullshit for this one. Originally I want this story to just be a bunch of sexy encounters in a morally questionable world, now we're talking about feelings and love and how the hell did we get here? (This is how I would imagine him the first time he sees his Girl) Please enjoy this un-beta'd, barely edited request. All mistake and errors are mine! please enjoy

Warnings; 18+ no minors, Marcus pov, vague but big-legal age gap, there's no actual sex, but memories of it, vulgar yet romantic musings, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance) he’s still pretty possessive, Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 1.1k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

War is easy. It’s a language he’s fluent in, something he excels in. He is blessed enough to have survived more battles that he could count and has been more than rewarded for his prowess. Battle plans, marches and military strategy are almost second nature, the fury, the heat of battle, all that he can anticipate and it’s probably the main reason he’s come this far in his life. 

Soldiers, camp life and brutality, those things are easy for him to understand.

Other matters, love, affection, attraction; these things are…harder. 

Physically, he’s perfectly adequate. He's never been ignorant to his looks, or his build. He knows that he fills the societal ideal for a man. He’s broad, he’s strong, he has a good face and no physical flaws.

He’s never been short of attention from the fairer sex either but that doesn’t mean anything as far as he’s concerned. He’s had his trysts, and he thinks he might have even been in love before but his luck seems to stop, and stay within his vocation. 

In his younger days, he’d broken his fair share of hearts, he’d been gifted the virtue of many a virgin in hopes of tempting him into a marriage. None of them had held his attention for more than that one night, and sometimes, in the late hours wherever he found his rest he secretly feared the Gods might be punishing him. Withholding the partner he hopes to find as payment for those broken hearts left in his wake. 

As he grew older, wiser and more practical he learned to ignore that little emptiness. He saw it more as a blessing. Would he be where he was now with a woman waiting for him? Would he have hit his station with children bearing his name pulling at his thoughts in the middle of battle? Perhaps the Gods had simply made a trade. His life, or his heart. 

He’d been content with his lot in life, until he’d seen her. 

She’d served at a gathering he’d been loath to attend. His eyes tracked her, the shine of her hair, the curve of her hip, her pretty smile. Her eyes had locked with his for half a heartbeat and he’d felt it in his belly. A rolling, like waves in a stormy ocean. 

She’d gone about her business, efficiently fulfilling her duties while the guests all spoke animatedly around him. He’d joined in after reigning in his reaction, but she’d taken every ounce of his attention with her. 

He’d negotiated her purchase the next day. 

-

She was quick. She learned everything faster than a lot of the others in his service, and she seemed to anticipate his needs before he spoke them. Most of the time, he barely needed to say anything at all, and so he kept quiet. Kept his thoughts, and his feelings to himself. 

His biggest need though, was her. He wanted her bad enough to hurt, to ache.

He was well aware of the practices in other houses. Slaves were there to obey, and in most houses that meant obeying with work, and with their bodies. He saw no issue in this, it was the way of the world. No matter how badly he wanted her though, he couldn’t make himself order her to spread her legs for him. Maybe it was a foolish, childish thing but he wanted her to crave it just as he did. He wanted her wet, he wanted her begging for him, he wanted to see pleasure and lust on her pretty face. 

He wanted her to want him. 

A year passed, and every second in her presence was exquisite torture. A torture he submitted himself to freely and with a perverse pleasure. It was a test of endurance, until the fateful night she’d come to him with her wet tunic, all of her body on display through the sheer fabric. The shadow of her cunt had sent him into a frenzy and when she’d come back and caught him fucking his fist he’d thought it was just another form of punishment. 

It was that look on her face though, that heavy lidded, open mouthed way she stared at him, nipples hardening that had finally made him crack. 

That first night he’d taken her, he’d stayed up in his bed, almost blinded with want. Her body had not alleviated the craving for her, if anything, it’d only made it worse. He’d replayed their encounter over and over, obsessed with the taste of her on his fingers, obsessed with the feel of her lips on his. From then on, she’d only cemented her hold on him. Her quiet obedience, her subtle seduction, the way she’d managed to scrape the shape of herself onto his brain.

She’d made herself the figurehead in his mind, the holy place at which he prayed, the Goddess he served. If he could, he’d light a thousand candles at the altar of her cunt, and pray to them daily.

He fought harder to return to her, he took note of her wants, of her preferences, and made sure to cater to her, despite no one in the house, not even her realizing. He dismissed the younger boys that lusted after her, he was covetous of her to the point of violence. A small smile from her could dictate his mood. The thought of her in pain made him feel like some feral wolf caught in a trap, ready and willing to chew part of himself away to reach her. 

Sometimes, after he’d spilled inside her, he’d let her fall asleep in his bed and relish the way she clung to him in her sleep. It was a double edged sword though, their stations in this life. A part of him fears that her want is only an act, a way to endear herself to him, her Dominus. A foundation to earn her freedom, or coin, or influence through him but then he sees the shy way she smiles at him and his fears are silenced to nothing. 

She cannot fake the way she flutters around his cock, she cannot pretend to feel nothing, not when he sees the same jealousy he feels shining through her eyes at the mention of the mostly political proposals he’s denied. The things she says, the way she takes her pleasure from him, all of these things only compound his delusions that just maybe, she feels for him a fraction of what he feels for her. 

It’s a sort of madness, truly, how that part of him that was the perpetual soldier had in so many respects switched their roles, had given her a control–a power he was sure she didn’t realize she had. 

He was sick with want for her, ravenous, and yet unable to soften himself in a way that would make her see the truth, make her see just how much she truly meant to him. He couldn’t make himself show her, that whatever she asked of him, he’d do with a smile.

For now at least. 

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[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 19: Overstimulation

Pairing: (G)I-DLE Miyeon x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,411

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“Tone it down, dadd—oh…”

If only these people knew what’s with Miyeon right now—well, it doesn’t matter because you’re the only one who’ll get to know what lies beneath her.

It’s not even surprising and more than a being less of an expectation—Miyeon’s as just as naughty as you remember and it’s within your accord to punish her or make her life a living hell.

“You show up like this, then you’ll face the consequences.” You grit your teeth as every word is villainous, willing to break her demeanor into a whimpering mess until she can’t contain it anymore. You play with the buttons on the remote as clenched her thighs from time to time, feeling such rage of pleasure that’s becoming too much but you didn’t care—you will make her learn a lesson, no matter if it’s going to be just exclusively the both of you or in a public restaurant and guess what, it’s only getting started.

“P-Please, daddy—hngg, ahh—no, please t-tone it down…”

You scowl at her in aims to intimidate her, making her feel a bit of regret yet at the same time, she’s loving this as much as you do but Miyeon knows to herself that she doesn’t want to end up in a filthy predicament in a public place.

“You did this to yourself, Miyeon—” You can hear small whimpers as the vibration gets worse with your own control, as with that, she’s just fighting the urge to erotically moan as she’s feeling too much pleasure right now that can’t eat her food right. “—then deal with it.”

You could sense how she’s getting drenched right now and how needy she is because of your actions—you like the sight of this, her pretty, submissive face begging for you to stop is just a sight to behold and to be treasured. Of course, you won’t give her even an ounce of mercy as her pleas just fuels the fire inside you to further tease her.

And so, you did.

Her hands shiver once you’ve increased the intensity of the toy shoved up in her ass, and with that, she can’t fight the feeling of such euphoric essence and let out almost-inaudible moans that could possibly turn on any other men that could lie an ear to hear it. With her iron wall still standing strong, she manages to still fight it yet it’s impossible to ignore the gratification it gives her—it’s clear that she’ll soon collapse and you’ll like to make it evident, probably leaving a mark of her own juices onto the restaurant’s sofa as you smirk while getting such spoonful of your food because of your evil plan.

You won’t give her some time to breathe as you play within little-to-no vibrations up the maximum one at random intervals and with that, it’s all converging to what you had in plan as Miyeon lets out such ragged breaths with the pleasure running down her veins. With her begs for you, you absolutely dismissed any chance of being merciful to this greedy slut—you will always learn your lesson for not falling for her tricks anymore, and let her taste her own medicine.

You’ll live her up to that epitome of an oxymoron—make her life miserable yet pleasurable, at the same time.

“Excuse me, waiter—can you please come here for a second?” You then call the gentleman just feet away from you as you want something that will satisfy your needs and probably, even Miyeon’s. You then reach for the menu beside you as your eyes scout all over the beautiful pictures of food and labels, deciding on what dessert you may want to call this a day. “Can I get uhm… your signature chocolate cake, just a single slice and oh, what’s yours, Miyeon?”

Of course, you’ll make the pleasure-ridden girl fight for her dignity for her own chances of survival and to further test her, when she’s ordering, you’ve set the vibration meter to the maximum as it goes well according to plain—Miyeon herself is visibly struggling but manages to pounce her way through her struggles, her demeanor full of sophistication and class (maybe add a little stutters but didn’t do the trick) as the waiter didn’t even suspect of anything that may feel off. As soon as the waiter said that he will be back for your orders, Miyeon’s breath of relief can be seen evident as she manages to battle with the pleasure that can ruin everything, glaring at you because of it.

“Daddy—w-why when I’m o-ordering—hng, just why?”

“Don’t you like the risk, Miyeon?” You bat out such venom-laced words, your tone sinister as you intimidate her with your own control. “Like I said earlier, you’ve got yourself into this now bear with it.”

You then continued to tease, marking her to be still on the verge of letting her profanities be released from its concealment and you will make her punished for this.

It’s only getting started and this will be such an interesting bit if she’ll manage to stay sturdy with her faulty demeanor…

---

“B-But why at the r-restaurant, daddy? I was on the verge of cumming too, but just why??”

There she goes with her own frustrated remarks—well, just so you know that you expected this long ago, knowing how your teases earlier can make her feisty because she’s on the verge of a possible predicament, which you may find hilarious.

Just for context, Miyeon love going out with you with an added twist, making it kinkier for herself and you, knowing that she trusts you, decided for you to control the buttplug inside her in times where it’ll be safe and you know you’re not a merciful guy when bestowed a tool for punishment. Well, maybe she wouldn’t take this chance again as you took it for granted but here’s the thing—you’re always in control and things go onto your own accord and you’re just utilizing and testing her for your amusement and her torment.

Of course, deep inside her, she’s not tormented at all and rather even loved the way you played with her, dangling off to the edge of the cliff, affording risks that would’ve gone wrong if speculated but the both of you didn’t, so with the given conclusion, it was just right to do such things for both delighted emotions.

“Don’t lie to me—you loved this shit, Miyeon, you always do.”  You snap her into the reality of things, making her eyes open to swerve out to the lane of hypocrisy and make her face that she loved this—you can see it in her, those glowing orbs filled with lust and temptation, it’s all in her.

“I did but—not t-there, daddy! What if the waiter suspected something?” No one suspected anything, not even a single hint of evidence was seen.

“What if someone found out about this and made fun of me?” Chances are slim to none about that; there’s no way on earth that they’ll know Miyeon has a vibrating buttplug up in her ass.

“What if they smelled something off on the couch?” Maybe they may but it wouldn’t be obvious, and there’s nothing they can do about it as it already happens—nonetheless, they won’t even speculate a thing.

Maybe it’s just Miyeon becoming embarrassed and overthinking things that shouldn’t be—you know how uneasy and how these things can’t easily brush off her mind. Reassuring her, you told her that legitimately, nothing is left behind and there’s no way she should be embarrassed, but rather find it rather an opportunity to test her will and her mental strength to endure her own idea.

“Now you made me really horny, daddy—then do something about it…”

You sigh deeply, knowing the inevitable will soon come for another filthy climax between the both of you yet of course, you need to tame her down to the passenger seat as you have business of keeping eyes and your attention averted all towards the road and you’ll sure make her needs completely fulfilled.

“When we get home, Miyeon. I’m going to fucking ruin that tight hole of yours and of course, you.”

---

When the night settles, everything falls dark, onto the lustful abyss of no-return and the both of you would absolutely indulge onto your deepest desires, no matter what may happen. Maybe, no one can stop the both of you unless yourselves and to further seal the debauchery, the both of you settled onto your deepest, lustful hunger between both parties, lips clashing together like you’ve been deprived of each other’s tastes for epochs.

“You definitely improved, Miyeon…”

“Learned from the best.” Miyeon smiles at you, feeling proud with what you’ve created her to be as you further indulge onto the kiss again, locking tongues and dominating each other with aims for the other to fall in submissive yet that won’t you—it’ll be Miyeon. Soon enough, oxygen will be the ones to be blamed as you pull yourself out of the embrace of her soft, luscious lips and with the tension in the air rising until it’s damned to be in that elevation of lust. Miyeon, with her patience growing low, proposes her long-awaited needs for you as you took this as her vulnerable spot as everytime she pleads for something, she ends up falling submissive and you’ll do that again for like, a hundredth time. With the prey latching onto the trap of its feral predator, you caught it and seized that opportunity as didn’t even bother escaping but rather, submerging onto her needs.

“You want that, Miyeon?” She yelps with your proactive attempts to further make her succumb onto the pleasure, playing with the controls of the remote as her thighs quiver as soon as it vibrates around her prostate. “Now strip for me, Miyeon—better do it quickly since you’ve made the feeling mutual since the beginning.” And she would be glad to start you off with her to blame as the first one. No hesitation can be seen from her face as she strips her clothing whilst visibly struggling due to the intense gratification coursing down her veins caused by the vibrating buttplug that’s up in her ass.

It didn’t really take that long to undress herself because of how easy it can be undone and how skilled she is, fulfilling your needs of a sight of her perfect, impeccable body. You’re not going to lie, that outfit of Miyeon is simply elegant and simple that you don’t want her to strip it away but it must be done, knowing how it’s way better when those are on the floor, and her scrumptious, naked body is all on your sight. With her last defense down on her body, your eyes lit as you’re allured with the incredible sight of her tight body—her perky breasts, slender waist, breedable hips, supple butt and as the cherry on top, her succulent, dripping pussy—and swiftly approached her, before grabbing her wrists and pinned her down to the bed with not much effort because of your strength.

“You wanted this so bad, hm, Miyeon?” Your fingers then trace towards the porcelain skin of her body, up to neck then down to her nether regions in which she can’t help but let out such sultry moans as the pleasure is starting to get more intense because of your actions. 

Again, you’re a man of your word—not merciful; selfish with your own needs and what comply with those? To stimulate her further than what she can take and you’ll let her achieve that in no time.

Well, there’s already that mind-boggling headstart with the buttplug’s constant vibrations that sends multiple magnitudes of pleasure throughout her body and with your hands constantly caressing and fondling what skin you may find to further send her your regards of affections, she can’t help but just submit onto your control and continues to voice out the intense feeling of gratification.

“Oh—ohh, r-right there, daddy—ahh, t-that feels so g-good!” Miyeon mewls in pleasure as you continue swiping your fingers onto her clit and fondling her perky breasts, aiming for her to reach an incredible sensation of delight even without a deep penetration. Miyeon knows how your fingers can make her cum inevitably hard and you’re probably on the right track with that—you know deep inside that she likes it so much but you won’t get her into that high that easily.

Now, coursing your way onto the delectable treat that no dessert can’t top off, you latch your lips onto those succulent pussy of hers and gave it multiple pecks before letting your tongue do the action, the final enemy raging its way onto nearing Miyeon’s high and even though she wants to fight the urge, she can’t as there’s too much that’s happening that she can’t think straight—all she can do is moan and call out your name, too drowned in the sea of pleasure with no aims of going back up.

The inevitable mellifluous nectar runs down like rivulets onto your tongue, lapping every drop and savoring it as you hum insatisfaction, further stimulating her as you get onto the remote again and play with the controls of the buttplug. You can hear the constant buzzing sound of it as you voraciously eat Miyeon and it further adds to the filthy essence the both of you are exuding, as well as Miyeon’s angelic cacophony of moans. It repeats all in a cycle: caress her waist, lap your tongue against her lower lips, stimulate her clit with fingers, play with the controls, and so on until she becomes a whimpering mess. Her juices constantly flow freely down your mouth, your chin and some of the ungrateful ones messing up the bed sheets and the sullied sight of this while eating her out should be treasured, unlocking another filthy memory.

Of course, this would be her Achilles’ heel—your tongue, that pink-fleshed culprit is the bane of her tough will as it always sends her defenses crumbling down into a state of complete eradication, leaving her vulnerable for more tricks up your sleeve.

And just like that, in less than approximately four minutes—maybe it’s just your gut feeling knowing the nigh-accuracy of the time—she’s going to be achieve one of her long-awaited highs after being edged by you for so long as she continues to voice out how near she is.

“Oh n-no—I’m n-not gonna hold on for so l-long!” Or will she?

It’s within your own accord, your own regulations—no needs will be attended first unless it’s you; you’re to only one who gets to an orgasmic trance first before Miyeon, and that, she would’ve known that before she clouded her mind with pleasure (saying if she can even think straight because of the utmost gratification).

“Daddy!! Why’d y-you stop??” Miyeon whines, responsively because of your actions ceased to deny her high, which made her a little frustrated because of an enormous spike suddenly meeting the trenches of the lowest points possible. You smirk in delight because of your sinister advances, turning off the vibration and pulling your tongue and your mouth out of her sweetness and this, is just the beginning of the show you’re directing—of course you’re the director, the obvious control over her is a strong evidence, piece beautifully for the best, erotic output.

“It’s time for the main event, Miyeon, that’s why.” You rose up from your previous kneeling position as you quickly stripped your clothing, wanting to be equally as naked as the beautiful goddess in front of you. It didn’t take that long for your clothes to be deemed useless on the floor as you fondled her perky breasts, letting out another series of angelic moans that will make any man submerge onto their needs and to totally ruin the girl in front of them.

Well, you’re on the verge of that, and you’ll make this worth both of your time.

 “You know how badly you made daddy horny, right?” Miyeon nods as she looks at your eyes, endeared by the affection you’ve bestowed on her as her eyes glint with lust and anticipation, fully-invested into what you may have in store for her. Her hands immediately coursed its way onto your muscular arms, giving herself a leverage for the pleasure she’s been fighting since the beginning and now with your rock-hard shaft finally adding to the play, it’s time to make this a tale for more years to come.

Well, yes, in that context because you’ll treasure this moment until the end of time, because every session with Miyeon is just peak-class and ecstasy. Your cock then runs onto her lower lips, teasing it as well as setting the buttplug onto a moderate vibration, aiming to fully stimulate her before the main event. Growing yourself impatient as your needs are becoming too much for you to bear, you won’t help yourself but sink into your lustful desires.

“Then you’ll get what you want, Miyeon…” You didn’t give her some time to comprehend what’s happening and further lock onto the lustful fate of yours, plunging your entire length deep inside her and immediately picking up a moderate pace for the both of you to savor and relish. She cries in your own control over her, being too stimulated with your masterclass as everything is just overflowing her needs—the constant fondling of her mounds, your lips latching onto her neck and collarbones from time to time, the buttplug vibrating to massage her prostate and further turn her on and the constant ramming of your length inside her, hitting every spot that it made her almost scream every time your head hits her womb. 

This almost feels like a fever dream and somehow, way more enchanting than your past sessions—maybe it’s because of her added quality of moans, voiced by the toy that she has up her ass since earlier and the sight of her erotic, lewd face making such expressions of lust makes everything go higher than your expectations. You won’t dare to complain but rather, indulge onto a better pace as you grip her hips harshly, further pounding her into the mattress with a newly profound pace that’s maybe able to break the speed you’re hips was expecting to muster—such breakneck velocity was caused by your own need to sully her, and you would to end her up into that kind of a mess, a disheveled, ruined mess of a goddess.

Also, it’s always such a pleasurable and an addicting act to be inside Miyeon of all times, disregarding such intimate and anticipating foreplay because of her utter tightness that makes you love her even more. The way those velvety walls clench around your rapidly-thrusting shaft is such an elevating experience of delight and lust that you can’t ask for more, and rather, you’d love to make it frequent. Frequency is an understatement, because it has been always the case in every thrust you do but you wanted more, so, you gave her barrages of spanks as every time you do it, you can feel her walls inevitably clenching and making the session hotter and maybe even more pleasurable to be true.

“Fuck m-me harder—ahh, daddy—ohh, please!!”

“Of course I will, Miyeon—” You grip her hips like it’s about to get bruised as you lean down closer towards her ear, and whisper, “—I’m going to fill up this slutty pussy, up to the hilt.”

Given your words of fulfillment, you double the efforts your hips can maintain and fucked her like an animal, and like how she deserves it. Of course, your hips won’t be the ones only doing the work to stimulate her, as you set the maximum vibration of the buttplug as well as your hands caressing every inch of her body as much as possible. Her senses are now at her all-time high, having the most gratification she’ve felt all throughout the year and it’s just enchanting to feel how everything may seem surreal but it isn’t—it may elevate more than reality itself but everything is real, and with all of that pleasure coursing down her veins, the inevitable wouldn’t take long to introduce itself.

“I’m s-so close, daddy—gahh, please l-let me cum, please! Oh, please, dadd—oh fuck, please!” Constant pleads can be heard ringing around your ear the further you fuck her into oblivion. Now just being able to utter the same words and phrases as your cock made her thinking limited because of being clouded with sex, you wouldn’t want to hear her redundant pleas and would rather fulfill her needs and to make her a whimpering mess.

“You really want to cum on my cock, Miyeon?” A simple question, but bound to break such barriers of hesitance and can portrays thousands of emotions of lust and without even thinking about it, Miyeon nodded at you as she continues to repetitively moan in need and with her juices constantly leaking out on you like a broken faucet, you know it’s time for her anticipated orgasm. “Then cum on my cock, you gorgeous slut—”

And she did, instantly. Her face exudes such epitome of lust and eroticism that you can’t define the beauty beneath it—it’s just the paramount of it as she’s in pure ecstasy, and maybe even you. You pull out of her tightness as she sprays her treasured nectar all over the vicinity: your cock, your pelvis, onto the bed sheets and some, landing onto the dark, marble floor. When she’s still on her high, you brush your cockhead onto her pulsating lips as every inch was blessed by her juices and once her orgasm has subsided, Miyeon herself insisted to even finish it all inside her, to the point where nothing will be wasted and can’t go back, only indulge yourself into the filthiness that the both of you dived into.

“Fuck m-me hard, d-daddy—please, fuck me hard—oh god, fuck!!”

She doesn’t need to tell you about your harshness and your rapid pace as you read her mind and immediately, does so as you repeatedly gave the fastest thrusts your hips can muster, wrecking and ruining her tight cunt like you have something to prove her—you’ve already proved yourself to her ages ago, and maybe, this will just another rough treatment of pounding her until she can only think about you and your throbbing length.

Knowing that the inevitable will soon come on your side as you can feel it running down your loins, the familiar tingle signaling the near coming of your orgasm and it wouldn’t take long before you submerge onto it. Wanting Miyeon to achieve her high again—she’s also getting close because of too much stimulation because of your actions and the constant pulsations, clenching and her utter wetness are such evidences to know how near she is to achieve that high—you work onto fondling her perky mounds and latched your lips onto her taut buds, kissing and pecking it in order to make her brain go haywire and with her profanities being constantly voiced out, you know it’s going to be near and this would be the paramount of the show.

“God—are you g-going to cum again, Miyeon?”

“Yes, d-daddy! Please c-cum inside me too—I k-know—gahh, y-you want to—fuck, please, d-daddy!!”

Not going to hold anything just to savor the feeling, you will embrace the inevitable as you bury your entire length in her, filling her up to the hilt as you fall onto your deepest desires, shooting your treasured seed deep inside of her as you fill every inch of her velvety walls full of your cream. The both of your groan in every spurt you deposit inside her pussy, letting both of you exchange such lustful plethoras of sinful compliments towards each other as she holds your arms and smiles at you, loving how this moment is being unveiled into a messy one and will end up on that note too.

After exchanging breaths and beautiful smiles laced with bliss, the both of you shared an intimate kiss as both your lips embraced with aims to show the utmost affection and love between the both of you. Even with the differences and being bugbears, the both of you still show how much you love each other and it’s all pristine and genuine. You deepen the kiss as your primal instincts kick in but it wasn’t nearly aggressive, but rather full of your intimacy and passion towards each other and with your length gradually getting flaccid, you pull out to her only to be met with a view of her folds full of your semen, creaming her beautifully as some of it are seeping out and staining the sheets underneath.

“You c-came so much daddy—filled me up so well…” Miyeon voiced out enervated, and you, smiling with the fact that she always loves being filled up by you and how your loads are consistently making her feel the utmost serendipity inside her.

“Of course—” You caress her cheek and fix her disheveled hair, then smile gleefully at her as you feel the utmost affections towards right now that you want to give her anything in this world. “—all of that because I love you…”

Miyeon blushes from that thought and knows it’s all genuine because within the refulgence of your eyes, it shows how much she means to you. Miyeon then catches you off-guard with a kiss on the lips as she voiced out her exhaustion and drowsiness. “I love you t-too, daddy but, can we please sleep and cuddle tonight? I feel sleepy right now…”

“If that’s what my baby wants, then why not?” You then laid down beside her, and pulled her into an embrace as you didn’t even bother to do anything rather than feeling the warmness of her body complimenting yours.

“Don’t you wanna shower, daddy?”

“Maybe later, Miyeon but for now…” You caressed her cheeks again, stroked her hair and continued, “Let’s just feel each other—cuddle each other, alright?”

With the softness in your heart, you made everything end on a good note as you can already feel Miyeon sleeping onto your chest, her impeccable features all in your sight as all you can feel is how much you adore her and not so long after, you feel yourself succumbing onto your drowsiness as this marks as the end of another spectacular day, maybe hoping for an energizer once the both of you wake up… or maybe even more than that…

[heliads]

I’d like to request a Pietro imagine. Pietro survived and became an Avenger. The female reader doesn’t have powers and isn’t an Avenger. She’s really smart and works with Tony and Bruce in the lab. She was hired after the whole Ultron fiasco. People underestimated her intelligence in high school and college because she’s a girly girl and loves the colour pink, but the Avengers aren’t like that. Pietro likes her and wants to date her.

'waiting around' - pietro maximoff

masterlist

When they tell Pietro he has to go to the labs, his first thought is to run.

He knows it’s silly. These are not the same doctors who made the Maximoff twins strong and fast and utterly alone in this world, these are the scientists with the Avengers. They’re the good guys. Apparently. But Pietro has learned fairly quickly that people calling themselves good aren’t always good in the end.

Pietro has a lot of learning to do since he and Wanda escaped Ultron a few months back. He’s doing his best to be patient and take things ‘one step at a time,’ as the Americans keep telling him. Mainly, he would like their steps to be faster. Pietro has things to do, and they don’t usually involve waiting in line for someone else to decide if he’s worthy of their loyalty or not. The Avengers are trying, he knows that. It’s just hard sometimes.

Especially when Pietro is still trying to shake off the feeling that he should have died back in Sokovia. He came away with his share of narrow escapes, but there was one moment towards the end, when the ships were firing at him, when Clint needed his help, that Pietro thought would be his last. Luckily, he was faster than a few bullets, but there’s still this nagging voice in the back of Pietro’s subconscious that whispers to him late at night:  what if you hadn’t been fast enough?

So he’s been uneasy as of late. What about it? Stress is common in inhumans and Avengers, one glance around this coffee-dependent complex could tell him that. Still, it’s a good thing to get checked out. That’s part of the reason Pietro is being directed to the labs, along with a need for a good annual physical.

It sounds good, too, were it not for the fact that Pietro has had plenty of experience with laboratories in the past few years and none of it was good. The Hydra labs made him strong, in a sense, but they were torturous. He can still remember the pile of corpses ushered out every day, the experiments that failed. He remembers curling up in a corner of his cell, begging his body not to give out, not to make him another body in a bag. He lived, but he remembers.

This is not Hydra. Pietro knows that. He left them behind. Still, there will always be some part of him that shrinks away from every syringe, that distrusts every doctor who comes poking and prodding at the bizarre novelty that is an inhuman. That will never go away, no matter who’s side he’s on.

Still, the lab remains. He has to go in, the others will know if he doesn’t. At first, Pietro hesitates just outside the door, afraid to knock, afraid to listen. There was always a chill in the air throughout the Hydra complex, he remembers the gooseflesh forever on his skin. Signs that nothing good happened within the walls. Or maybe it was just because of the stone buildings in cold climates. Everything has an explanation.

He can’t back out now. Pietro grits his teeth and swings the door open in one broad movement. For a moment, he stands there, waiting to walk back into his old cell, his old life, and then he looks around and realizes with a grin that he’s going to be fine. This isn’t a Hydra ploy to get him back under their thumb. For one thing, Hydra never used this much pink. Just barren walls and gloomy, monstrous skull logos. In retrospect, that should have been a bad sign. Pietro has a problem with ignoring details, though, and it tends to get him in trouble.

These details, however, are quite difficult to be ignored. Everywhere Pietro looks, he sees pinpricks of pink– the handle of a pipette, labels on equipment, notebooks full of scrawled data points, hair ties in a carefully organized container. No, Hydra never had this much fun, and Pietro is starting to think that this is going to be very fun indeed.

Smirking to himself, Pietro weaves further through the lab. He sees a few assistants scurrying around in the back, but they pay him no mind so he does the same. Pietro almost reaches the end of the room when a sudden voice calls out to him:  “Don’t take another step.”

Instantly, Pietro freezes. The owner of the voice walks towards him, a young woman about his age in a lab coat. She must be the owner of the lab, too, because he spots a pink tie in her hair matching the others near the door. The name stitched onto the left breast pocket of her lab coat reads Dr. Y/N L/N, so Pietro knows she’s the one he was supposed to find.

She points to Pietro’s feet, where he notices are just touching a line of caution tape on the ground. “If you went any further, you’d be at risk of getting your eyes blinded by the lasers,” she informs him cheerfully.

Pietro’s face drops. Only now does he notice the hazard signs. “Huh. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Y/N arches a brow. “Do you always wander around lab space without watching where you’re going? Seems like an awfully dangerous habit for me.”

Pietro grins. “Well, I usually rely on my reflexes to get me out of trouble. I’m pretty quick.”

To prove it, he uses his speed to instantly move right behind the woman. She spins around, donning an indignant look that Pietro decides is very cute. “Don’t do that,” she scolds him.

Pietro folds his arms across his chest, grin broadening. “Why not?”

“I’ll tell Steve you’d like to do some weight training with him in the gym, and you think you can outlift him,” she threatens.

Pietro feigns surrender. “Anything but that, please.”

At last, Y/N’s lips twitch up into a smile. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Now, let’s focus. Tony sent you in to get a checkup, right?”

Pietro nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wrong,” she tells him. “Tony actually sent you in here to get on my nerves. He does that a lot. I’m busy and he likes distracting me. We’re going to get through this as quickly as possible, alright?”

Pietro has to fight not to laugh. “And here I thought everyone in the labs gets along.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Most of the time, yes. Except when he sticks me with babysitting duty.”

“This isn’t babysitting,” Pietro protests, “I’m getting to know you. I already feel like we’re the best of friends.”

Something that might be a smile flits across Y/N’s face, but she takes great pains to hide it to him. Pietro, who has always cared a little too much about getting people to laugh at his jokes, follows her like a dog as she walks through her lab. “You can laugh, you know. It won’t kill you.”

The smile is gone as quickly as it appeared, and Pietro instantly wishes he hadn’t said a word. “I’m working right now,” she tells him abruptly. “That means I’m focused. Don’t get in my way.”

Surprised and somewhat hurt by her shift in mood, Pietro goes quiet, but he can’t resist asking a second later, “I’m not trying to interfere with your work, I promise. Does that often happen?”

Y/N goes still. Pietro is half expecting her to just ignore him when she finally speaks at last, very quiet and very unlike the fiery personality he’d seen before. “Every time someone new comes in here. And with half the people I’ve already met, anyway. You’d be surprised what a few pink accessories can do to someone’s reputation, and their credibility in a lab.”

Pietro grimaces. “I’m sorry about that, honest. That’s not what I was going for, by the way. I joke with everyone.”

At last, Y/N meets his eyes. There’s a faint tint of humor swimming in her gaze. “I think I got that.”

She’s smiling, though, so he takes that as a good sign. Once that initial barrier was crossed, Y/N opens up a little more, and then Pietro finds himself stopping by her lab almost every day when he’s not off on a mission. He sees her thrilled with success after an experiment worked, and desolate when they don’t. He sees her consumed with stress. He sees her brow knit with careful concern as she patches him up after a mission. Through all of it, Pietro is increasingly risky with his heart, and then one day, he knows he loves her.

It’s a foolish thing to do. Y/N has confided in him many times that she’s afraid people only will see her as a girl first and a researcher second, someone who can be taken out for drinks but never a valid source of knowledge. If he makes his move now, she’ll never forgive him for being just like the others.

So he doesn’t say a thing, and descends further and further into hopelessness. Wanda says he’s ridiculously obvious, but Y/N still doesn’t seem to have noticed a thing, so maybe the only person more oblivious than Pietro is Y/N, and that’s saying something. Pietro doesn’t want to ruin their friendship, but as the days slip by and Pietro only falls more in love with her, he wonders if he hasn’t already ruined it by always wanting more than he can have.

He’s starting to wonder if he is simply going to carry this secret with him forever, until Y/N catches him at it one evening. The night is growing late, and Pietro has retreated to one of his favorite hiding places in the Avengers complex, Y/N’s lab, to watch her conduct her experiments and indulge in some idle chatter. They’ve grown quiet, and Pietro is leaning against a benchtop, doing nothing but watch her. Some of the motion-sensor lights in the corners of the lab have gone off from inactivity, giving the lights above them an extra glow. The light plays upon Y/N’s face and makes her eyes shine.

Pietro is just thinking that he’s never seen someone more beautiful in his entire life when Y/N looks up and catches him in the act. Instantly, Pietro pretends as if he’d simply been watching her pipette some samples into the well plates in front of her, but her brow is already furrowing and she’s asking him what’s wrong.

Pietro shrugs elaborately. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking.”

“Really?” She asks, grinning slightly. “I didn’t think that was a normal thing to you.”

Pietro rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” Y/N hums. “What were you thinking about? You seemed very preoccupied.”

“Nothing,” Pietro repeats, but Y/N doesn’t seem convinced.

“Come on, I didn’t think we were the type to keep secrets from each other. What are you trying to hide?” Y/N asks.

Pietro scratches the back of his head, suddenly awkward. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Even better,” she says, laughing slightly. “What is it?”

Pietro should stay silent, but he can feel the secret rising up his lungs and forcing itself out before he gets the chance. “I’m in love with you,” he blurts out.

Y/N’s eyes widen. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it obviously wasn’t that. “Oh,” she says quietly.

“Yeah,” Pietro says, wanting to stab himself in the eye with a nearby multitool. “Oh.”

He eyes the door, and has just decided that a strategic retreat is the best move when Y/N interjects, “I love you too, you know.”

Pietro turns around so hastily that he almost upsets a nearby rack of micropipettes. “What? You do?”

She’s glancing at her work, but he can tell that she’s embarrassed. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”

“Obviously I didn’t, or I would have done something about it,” Pietro blurts out.

Y/N glances up again, smiling again. “Like what?”

“Like take you out on a date,” Pietro returns. “How about it? This Friday. Seven. I’ll pick you up.”

Y/N laughs. “That sounds good to me.”

It sounds good to Pietro, too. When he leaves Y/N’s lab at the end of the day, he’s practically giddy. All this time, he was afraid of telling her, and now he’s wishing he spilled his guts much earlier. Regardless, he has what he wants. They’ll have their date, and Pietro is going to feel like he’s on top of the world.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @blondsauduun, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[evermoreness]

a romantic dinner | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x reader!

summary: your husband makes a romantic dinner for the both of you after the kids go to sleep.

masterlist

The Black family home was uncharacteristically quiet, the usual symphony of children’s laughter replaced by the gentle hum of Queen’s "You're My Best Friend" playing softly in the background. The table in the dining room was set with care—candlelight flickering in the center, casting warm shadows across the polished wood. Regulus had outdone himself, preparing a meal that rivaled anything from the fanciest restaurants in London.

You stood in the doorway, taking in the scene with a mix of awe and affection. Regulus was adjusting the placement of the wine glasses, his sharp black shirt rolled at the sleeves, his usually neat hair slightly tousled. You leaned against the frame, your voice teasing.

“You know, for someone who claims he doesn’t care about Muggle things, you’re awfully good at setting the perfect scene with a record player.”

The record and the vinyl were yours, and besides having it in your home for years now, Regulus always seemed to think Muggle things were not that interesting. Every Muggle had one record player in their own houses, it was 1985 anyways!

Regulus looked up, his green eyes softening when they met yours. “I thought I’d make an exception tonight. Besides, you love this… what’s it called? ‘Queen,’ right?”

You stepped forward, a playful grin on your lips. “Don’t pretend you don’t know their name, Reggie. I saw you humming along to ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ the other day.”

He smirked, pulling out your chair with an exaggerated flourish. “Perhaps I’ve grown fond of their… enthusiasm.”

As you sat down, you let your hand brush his. “This is amazing, love. I don’t know how you manage to surprise me after all these years.”

Regulus poured the wine, his expression unreadable but his voice soft. “I like keeping you on your toes. Besides, after a week of children climbing over us, I thought we deserved some time for ourselves.”

You laughed, lifting your glass. “To surviving another week of chaos.”

He clinked his glass against yours, sitting across from you, his smirk softening into a genuine smile. “To thriving in it.”

You began eating, the conversation flowing easily. You talked about the children—how Lyra had started mastering her reading, how Selene’s curiosity about charms was growing, and how Archie’s latest obsession was trying to make up his own spells.

“Did you see him today?” You said between bites, your eyes sparkling as you talked about your youngest. “He pointed his little wooden stick at me and shouted, ‘Maman vanish!’ Then got upset when I didn’t disappear.”

Regulus chuckled, his deep voice warming the space. “I told him he needs to practice his pronunciation if he wants his spells to work. He looked very determined.”

You laughed. “He’s determined to make chaos, just like his father and uncle.”

Regulus raised a brow, feigning offense. “Excuse me, I was an exceptionally well-behaved child.”

You gave him a knowing look. “You were exceptionally quiet, not well-behaved. There’s a difference.”

He tilted his head, conceding the point with a smirk. “Fair enough. But chaos aside, they’re brilliant kids. Lyra’s already figuring out things I didn’t learn until I was twice her age.”

“She’s incredible,” You agreed, your voice softer now. “And Selene… I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s sorted into Ravenclaw one day.”

“And Archie,” Regulus added, his expression warming. “He’s got more energy than the rest of us combined. I can barely keep up with him.”

Your children were still very young. Your oldest, Lyra, just turned five. Then came Selene, or just Ellie, who was four years old. And the last one, Arcturus— Archie, he hated when anyone called him his full name, despite being only three years old, he seemed to have a very strong personality.

You reached across the table, taking his hand. “You’re amazing with them, Reggie. Sometimes I watch you with them, and I can’t believe how lucky we are.”

Regulus’s thumb brushed over your knuckles. “It’s not luck, y/n. It’s you. You’re the reason we have this life.”

You felt your cheeks warm, but your smile didn’t waver. “You give me too much credit. We built this together.”

Regulus leaned back in his chair, his green eyes holding yours. “Still, you’ve changed me. For the better. I don’t know what my life would’ve been like without you, and I don’t want to know.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The music filled the silence, Freddie Mercury’s voice carrying a gentle sincerity that matched the mood.

You finally broke the quiet, your voice teasing but filled with affection. “You know, you’re really good at this romantic stuff. You sure you’re not sneaking advice from Sirius?”

Regulus scoffed, though there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Sirius? Please. He’s about as romantic as a troll in a tutu.”

You laughed, your head tilting back as your laughter echoed through the room. Regulus couldn’t help but smile, watching you with an expression so full of love it was almost overwhelming.

As the song shifted to "Love of My Life," Regulus stood, extending a hand to you. “Dance with me?”

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Here? Now?”

He shrugged, his smirk returning. “Why not? The children are asleep, the candles are still burning, and this is one of the few moments we have to ourselves. Let’s make the most of it.”

You smiled, placing your hand in his. “I’ll never say no to dancing with you.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you swayed to the music. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“I love you.” You murmured.

He pressed a kiss to your hair, his voice low but filled with emotion. “And I love you, mon cœur. Always.”

As you danced, the world outside faded away. In that moment, it was just the two of you—two people who had endured so much, yet found their happiness in each other and the life they had built together.

Regulus held you close as they swayed to the music, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back. You looked up at him with a playful smile, your fingers tracing patterns along his shoulder.

“You know,” you began teasingly, “you’ve gotten much better at this dancing thing over the years.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Excuse me? I’ve gotten better? I seem to recall you being the one who could barely step without tripping over your own feet.”

You gasped in mock offense, playfully swatting his chest. “That is absolutely not true! I was perfectly coordinated.”

“Ah, yes,” Regulus said, his tone dripping with amusement. “I remember you stepping on my toes so gracefully at Cissy and Lucius’s wedding.”

You burst out laughing, leaning your forehead against his chest. “I did not step on your toes that much!”

“Y/n,” he said dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched, “I thought I’d have to see a Healer for my poor feet after that night.”

You looked up at him, your laughter fading into something softer. “Well, if I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted on teaching me how to dance. You didn’t have to.”

Regulus’s smirk softened into a genuine smile as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I wanted to. And I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else stepping in to dance with you.”

Your gaze warmed as you remembered that night. “You know, I was so nervous that night. But then you got up and quickly called me to dance in your always-so-polite way”

“I had to be assertive,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. “How else was I supposed to keep everyone else away from you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “And here I thought it was just because you wanted to show off.”

Regulus chuckled, spinning you gently to the music. “Maybe a little of both.”

You moved together in perfect sync now, a stark contrast to their fumbling steps years ago. The memory of that night was vivid in both their minds—the glittering chandeliers of Malfoy Manor, the crowd of Death Eaters and pureblood aristocrats watching them, the weight of expectations heavy in the air.

But for Regulus and you, none of that had mattered.

“You were so handsome that night,” You said softly, your voice pulling him from his thoughts. “In your tailored suit, looking so serious.”

Regulus tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “And you were stunning. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I remember thinking how lucky I was that you were mine.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. “You’ve always been mine, Reggie. From the moment we first met.”

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “And you’ve always been mine.”

The song shifted, the gentle melody reminding them of another moment—their wedding day. You let out a small laugh as the memory surfaced.

“Do you remember our first dance at our wedding?” you asked, your voice filled with amusement.

Regulus groaned, though his smile betrayed him. “How could I forget? Bellatrix kept glaring at us the entire time, and half the guests were probably plotting against each other.”

“And yet,” You said, your voice softening, “in that moment, it felt like it was just you and me. I didn’t care about the Death Eaters or the Blacks or any of it. All I cared about was us.”

Regulus’s grip on you tightened slightly, his green eyes locking onto yours. “It was the same for me. That day, when I looked at you, nothing else existed. Not Voldemort, not my family, not the war. Just you.”

You smiled, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I think that’s why we’ve made it through everything, Reggie. No matter what’s happening around us, we always find our way back to each other.”

Regulus leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, his voice was barely above a whisper. “We always will, mon cœur.”

You continued to dance, your movements slow and deliberate, as if trying to savor every second. The music played on, a soundtrack to your memories and your love—a love that had grown stronger with every challenge, every triumph, and every moment like this.

For you and Regulus, this was your life. Not perfect, not easy, but undeniably beautiful. And as you danced, the world outside your home faded away, leaving only the warmth of your love and the promise of many more dances to come.

After the dance, you both went straight upstairs. Regulus carried you through the doorway of your room with effortless grace, his arms steady beneath you. You let out a small laugh, resting your head against his chest as you gazed up at him.

“You know,” you said, your voice playful, “you don’t have to carry me every time we come to bed. I can walk, you know.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. “And deny myself the pleasure of carrying the most beautiful woman in the world? Never.”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile gave you away. “You’re impossible.”

He chuckled, gently setting you down on the edge of the bed. “Only for you, mon cœur.”

You got up to stand in front of him, your fingers brushing against his tousled hair. “Your hair looks a mess,” you teased, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Very un-Black of you, isn’t it?”

Regulus gave you an amused look as he loosened the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves. “And you love it. Don’t even try to deny it.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his words. “Hmm, maybe. You do look rather… rugged tonight. It’s a good look for you, love.”

He stepped closer, leaning down until your faces were inches apart. “Only tonight?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you managed a smirk. “Oh, don’t get too confident, love. I could still change my mind.”

He chuckled, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face. “Liar. You’ve never been able to resist me.”

You reached out, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him even closer. “And you’ve never been able to resist me either,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his.

Regulus smirked against your mouth. “Touché.”

Your lips met in a slow, heated kiss, the world outside the room disappearing entirely. Regulus’s hands rested on your waist, his thumbs tracing gentle circles against the fabric of your black dress. Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, Regulus rested his forehead against yours, his green eyes sparkling with affection. “You’re breathtaking tonight, ma chérie.”

You smiled, your cheeks flushing under his gaze. “You’re not so bad yourself, love.”

He smirked, tugging you to your feet and spinning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. “Let’s get this dress off, shall we?” he murmured against your ear, his voice teasing.

You laughed, turning your head to meet his gaze. “Impatient, are we?”

“Always, when it comes to you,” he admitted, his hands settling on your hips.

You turned in his arms, your smile softening as you looked up at him. “How did I get so lucky to have you?”

Regulus cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You didn’t get lucky. We found each other. And I intend to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you mean to me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned up to kiss him again, slow and deliberate. “You’re a romantic at heart, Regulus Black,” you whispered against his lips.

“Only for you,” he replied, his voice tender.

You leaned back slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you traced a finger down Regulus’s chest. “You know,” you began, your voice light and teasing, “you look so ridiculously handsome tonight that I might just start thinking about having another baby.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Oh, is that so? Should I be flattered or concerned?”

You laughed softly, your hand sliding down to rest on his waist. “Definitely flattered. Though, I’m not sure how you’d feel about chasing after four little ones instead of three.”

Regulus tilted his head, pretending to think it over. “Four sounds like a challenge,” he admitted, his smirk growing. “But with you by my side? I think we’d manage.”

You arched an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. “Manage? Regulus, you’d spoil the next one just as much as the others. Admit it—you’re a softie when it comes to our kids.”

He sighed dramatically, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you closer. “Fine. Guilty as charged. But can you blame me? They’re perfect. Just like their maman.”

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment, but you quickly masked it with another playful quip. “Careful, love. Flattery will only get you so far.”

Regulus leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Oh, I don’t know. It’s worked pretty well for me so far.”

You shivered slightly at the warmth of his breath against your skin, but you refused to let him have the upper hand. “You’re awfully confident tonight,” you said, your tone teasing.

“And why shouldn’t I be?” he replied, his green eyes sparkling with affection and mischief. “I have the most incredible wife, three wonderful children, and a very tempting proposition on the table.”

You laughed, playfully smacking his arm. “A proposition, huh? And what exactly would that be?”

Regulus grinned, leaning in to kiss you gently. “Starting on baby number four. Right now,” he murmured against your lips.

You pulled back slightly, feigning shock. “Right now? Regulus, what if the kids wake up?”

He smirked, “Then we’ll just have to be quiet.”

"I don't think that's actually gonna happen" You said, a smirk in your face, giving him a knowing look.

"Fine. I'll do the Muffliato spell" He said, giving you a quick kiss.

You burst into laughter, wrapping your arms around his neck as you shook your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me for it,” he said, his tone smug but affectionate.

You leaned up to kiss him again, your voice soft as you whispered, “I do. More than anything.”

Regulus’s expression softened, and he cupped your face gently in his hands. “And I love you. Always.”

The teasing and playful banter faded into a quieter, more intimate moment as you held each other close. The world outside your room disappeared, leaving only the warmth of your love and the promise of a lifetime of happiness together—no matter what challenges lay ahead.

[deadsetobsessions]

Cassandra Cain wandered. It has always been so, it will always be so. The moment she clutched the bloody remains of her own freedom in her hands, Cassandra flew and flitted between the cracks of the places she finds.

The only thing that ever made her stay was her dad and their family. The only place she ever settled in for more than a scant number of months was Gotham.

But they’re in a place- a universe- Cassandra could never return to, could not follow, because they had forbidden her to do so. Tim’s grip on her arm, two textures of bloodied skin and torn gloves, told her everything he wanted to say. Her little brother all but shoved her through the crack between planes and universes, and begged her to live with fearful eyes and the grim set of his shoulders.

She has never been good at denying Tim.

The first few weeks were… difficult. She ran- liberated a boat, from men with sabres and cruel hands- and learned to feel the desperate pull of freedom on her hands amongst the waves. She was lost, adrift, silent in her grief. She could be free. She has never been freer. But Cass had never wanted to be free from those she claimed as her own.

Cassandra was built and trained to survive. To walk into a fight and come out the victor, no matter the cost. So she adapts and overcomes and tries not to wallow in her grief.

This new world was different. Brighter, in many ways, than her home dimension. Not that it was hard, considering her home was a wasteland by now, with the moving corpses of what once was her family. The former vigilante knew better than to take it at face value. The brightest places tend to have the darkest shadows. And so, she travels, looking for a purpose. Looking for Hong Kong, because she’s well aware she’ll never find a Gotham again. She braves the sea, travels in between groups of pirates and struggles to understand the slips of sounds that did not make sense to her. It was like before Bruce found her all over again and Cassandra tried a little to learn like how he would have wanted her to. But it is hard, and spoken language was never important to her, never necessary. It was relevant only because her loved ones deemed it important.

Then, she finds a boy on an island, whose words were simple and who was always warm-welcoming-happy-free.

Predictably, Cassandra learns the word “meat” right after learning his name. He was like… the sun. Bright, bold, and unfettered in his will. More stubborn than her brothers and sisters, a feat Cass had not thought possible outside of Gotham, and more than Bruce, only because he could not be swayed by logic. He was Monkey D. Luffy and he wanted to be freer than anyone else.

“Join my crew!”

Cass could not kill. She could not be a pirate.

“Shishishi!” He throws his head back when he laughs, and Cass can tell that he means it. That he thinks her silly for-

“Then my first mate won’t need to kill! We’ll be strong enough to leave people alive! That’s your dream, right?”

Cassandra is breathless. She is still. And- maybe Luffy doesn’t have the training she does, but he understood. She could read it in the lines of his shoulders, the way his rubber limbs don’t snap. She couldn’t believe that she would find anyone that would understand her will to never kill, not after dad, who had wrapped her in shadows that whispered safety and understanding-

“You wanna be free and you want to help without killing! I’m gonna be the Pirate King, and the Pirate King’s crew’s gotta be the free-est! And we can help people if they pay us in meat!”

- but Luffy was a supernova and Cassandra believes.

“Okay.”

“YES!” Luffy roars with happiness, grin wide as the glow in her heart. “I GOT A FIRST MATE!”

——

Cass contorts herself into the barrel- not a difficult feat, since she was already small to begin with- and sighs. She pokes Luffy’s forehead before lightly tugging on his cheek, stretching the skin a bit, in a small scolding.

“Awe, nap time!”

Cass sighs, too familiar with the antics of a chaotic younger brother.

[jjanuaryrain]

More DPxDC, the backstory of how Danny gets to Gotham

A story is slowly coming together in my head but I'm not sure how all the pieces fit yet. Dunno if everything I've posted will go into the same story but I'm just enjoying writing it for now. More under the cut!

Words: 3355

Danny was no stranger to unfortunate circumstances. It could be said that his life was just a series of unfortunate circumstances, actually, each slotted one after the other. This wasn’t much different. Just another piece in the long line of toppling dominoes that was his afterlife.

“Take the reading again,” Tucker demanded in his ear, voice crackly and strained through the Fenton Tech earpiece.

“He’s redone it three times now, Tucker, it’s not going to change just because–” That was Sam’s annoyed drawl from beside him, but she was cut off by Tucker’s insistent voice.

“You have to be doing it wrong. Take it again.”

Danny let his head fall back in frustration where he was hanging weightless in the air over Salem State University, but he didn’t bother arguing. If he didn’t do what Tucker asked, the dude was liable to catch a flight all the way out to Salem to do the damn readings himself. That, or program a drone to do it for him. Both of which were equally undesirable, given what happened the last time Tucker loosed an unidentified aircraft into US airspace. (A half-exploded drone and visit from Homeland Security, that’s what.)

Instead, Danny picked his head back up and dutifully punched the commands into the Foley Ectometer for the 4th time. He waited for the beeps and clicks to stop then checked the reading.

“…It’s still coming through as a 3.6, Tuck. I really don’t think Salem is a viable option.”

“Bullshit, it’s not a viable option!” His friend seethed on the other end of the line. The sounds of furious typing started up again and Danny felt the distinct urge to find a wall to slam his head against. Sam had just gotten him to knock it off. “Salem is the most haunted city in the US outside of Amity based on every metric out there! If that place doesn’t hit a 5, nowhere will.”

Well, wasn’t that just lovely news. Even Salem, Massachusetts didn’t have enough ambient ectoplasm to hit the minimum 5/10 rating, just like the half dozen other cities they’d tested. If Danny wanted to survive longer than a few weeks outside of Amity Park, he’d need to find somewhere that rated at least that. Otherwise, he’d have to spend just as much time in the Realms as he did in the land of the living. Which was not an option at the moment. Not an option at all.

“We could try Gettysburg again,” Danny suggested, once again twirling upside down in the air, but it sounded weak even to his ears. Tucker only replied with a disgusted scoff. He was still clacking away, but Danny knew it was fruitless. Danny had flown to and tested every city in America that Tucker’s ecto-seeking algorithm had come back with. So far, the highest they’d hit was an 8.1 in Pennsylvania… which had actually turned out to be a 1.8 that Danny had read upside down on accident. So Salem was their next best option, but it still fell devastatingly flat.

“Guys, it’s okay, really,” Danny tried. He floated lower toward the green space at the center of Salem’s campus and wound himself invisibly around the branches of a tree. He rested his head on one of the strong boughs and watched as a bird preened its feathers not 2 feet from his face. “I don’t need to go to college outside of Amity. I’m sure an online program will be just as–”

“Oh knock it off, Danny,” Jazz interrupted. She’d been quiet on the call so far, but Danny could occasionally hear her scribbling down notes in the background. Ever since she’d gone off to college, she couldn’t help but treat every situation as a learning experience. And notes were integral to Jazz’s learning. “I don’t care if I have to haunt the city myself – you will be attending a good, four-year college with a strong astronomy program outside of Amity Park. End of discussion.”

Yeah, right. Danny only just stopped himself from laughing in her face. ‘Outside of Amity’ was already a huge ask, but with Danny’s grades and his limited options? Asking for a ‘good four-year college’ and ‘strong astronomy program’ might as well be the same as asking for Superman himself to descend from the heavens and kiss him on the mouth.

Danny knew better than to voice that opinion to Jazz of all people, though. He could only sit through so many lectures on ‘keeping optimistic’ and ‘maintaining a positive view of the future’ before he lost it. So instead, he settled for a non-committal grunt and poked idly at a bit of fungus growing on the trunk of the tree.

“Tucker, what else have you found?” Jazz prompted when Danny didn’t say anything else.

“Well… It’s- I mean, it’s not looking good, guys,” Tuck’s tinny voice said. “We’ve burned through Savannah, St. Augustine, Portland, San Antonio. Hell, we even tried Chicago.”

Danny wrinkled his nose. Staying in Illinois wasn’t ideal, but he’d have taken it if it meant he could get out of Amity Park. That city, despite being his home, his Haunt, was going to be the death of him. And there weren’t enough ‘I’m already dead’ jokes in the world that could soften that.

“Okay,” Jazz hummed thoughtfully, ever the pragmatist. “Then what’s next?”

“That’s just it,” Tucker said with a sigh. “At this point… I don’t think there is a next.”

Well. Great.

Danny thunked his head against the trunk of the tree. When they’d started this search, he’d told himself in no uncertain terms that he would not be getting his hopes up, that this was a pipe dream at best. But somewhere along the line he’d let himself be lulled into a false sense of security by the surety his friends and sister had that there’d be some solution. Maybe not college, maybe not even outside of Illinois, but somewhere he could escape to.

Apparently not. If Tucker couldn’t find Danny somewhere suitable to live, Danny didn’t know someone who could.

The line was silent. Even Tucker’s clacking had stopped, and Danny suddenly wished he’d start up again, just to fill the silence.

Ancients, was it really so bad? Staying in Amity? He had a life there – or an afterlife, at least. He had friends, too, until they went off to college themselves. He had ghosts to chase and frenemies to brawl and his parents. Well, kind of. His parents were…

Danny sighed and relaxed the part of him that kept him solid on the branches of the tree. Tangibility sloughed off of him like dead skin and he sank through the tree toward the ground. If two of the smartest people in his life couldn’t figure out how to get him out, Danny really was starting to believe it was hopeless.

He was just about to let himself sink fully into the ground and let the dark earth envelop him when the earpiece crackled back to life.

“Y’know,” Sam said speculatively, “there is one place you haven’t tested yet.”

Danny paused his slow descent into the ground, chin just peeking out of the dirt.

“What do you mean?”

“Weeeeelll,” she said slowly, drawing the word out. “It’s not the most ideal, but-”

“Sam,” Jazz cut in sharply. “You’re not suggesting where I think you are, are you?”

“What?” She asked defensively. “It’s, like, the only place guaranteed to have level 5 amounts of ambient ecto outside of Amity. It kinda seems like his only option.”

Danny perked up at that. Another city? With enough ecto for him to survive off of that Tuck and Jazz hadn’t thought of? Or maybe they had, but had decided it wasn’t a good fit. Danny pulled his body back out of the ground and settled on the grass, lifting a hand to press his comm further into his ear.

“What are you talking about, Sam? Where?”

“Sam,” Tucker echoed Jazz tentatively. “I don’t think…”

“I’m talking about Gotham.”

Silence. Did she just say…

“Gotham?” Danny repeated. He couldn’t have heard her right. She wanted him to move to Gotham? The Dread City? The Joker’s Playground? Home of the Bat? She couldn’t be serious… Right?

“Yep,” Sam said, popping her P. And shit, okay. Gotham. “Gotham U has an astronomy program and everything. And I bet we could score you a free ride, knowing the Waynes. They love a charity case.”

“Jeez, Sam,” Tucker hissed. “Blunt much?” Danny could practically hear her returning shrug.

“What, am I wrong? It’s not like Danny’s stupid, or anything, but all this ghost shit has seriously tanked his grades. With a little sob story here and a push from my parents there, though, I’m sure he’d be admitted in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah, but…” Tucker started weakly. “It’s Gotham. Like, Gotham Gotham. Y’know, Most Deadly City on Earth?”

“I know what it’s called, Tuck.”

“I just mean-”

“I’ve been there a few times on my parents’ stupid gala circuit, remember?” Sam interrupted impatiently. “It’s a rough ass city to be sure, but we’ve dealt with worse. Danny’ll be fine.”

“It is more than just a ‘rough ass city,’ Sam!” That was Jazz. “We are not sending him into that lion’s den! We’ll find him somewhere safe and normal where he can–”

“Danny won’t survive somewhere safe and normal,” Sam shot back. It sounded like she was leaning into Tucker’s microphone. “That’s the whole point of this stupid ecto hunt! We have to find somewhere fucked up enough that he can live without relying on the Realms.”

“Then we’ll find somewhere! Just not a city that’s known for how dangerous and unlivable it is. I refuse to get Danny out of the frying pan just to throw him right back into a fire!”

Sam scoffed. “Really, Jazz? You think Amity isn’t the fire? You think he’s any safer staying in that house?”

Danny cringed and the line went silent for a moment.

“Look, I know it’s been really bad recently,” Jazz started, but Tucker cut her off.

“You kinda don’t, though.”

“...What?”

“Like, I know we’ve been updating you and everything, but it’s different. Being here.”

“What do you mean? Different how?”

“Tuck…” Danny protested weakly. His best friend ignored him.

“I mean, your parents have always been odd, sure. But like, manageably odd, y’know? But when Phantom broke the portal…” Danny winced, rubbing his neck. “I don’t know. They kinda lost it. And now they just seem…” The line was quiet for a moment as Tucker searched for the word.

“Unwell,” Sam supplied. Her tone was grave. Tucker hummed in agreement. “Seriously, Jazz. He needs out of there.”

“I… Danny? Is that true?”

“It’s…” Danny started, but quickly trailed off. What was there to say? The last few months since he’d wrecked the portal had been… rough. He hadn’t thought it possible, but in recent weeks his parents had become even more radical. Their hate for Phantom had reached vitriolic levels, to the point that they seemed incapable of thinking about anything else. Forget eating, forget researching, forget Danny. The only thing that mattered anymore was hunting down the ghost that wrecked their life’s work.

Danny never wanted to learn what would happen if they learned that that ghost slept in the room next door.

“...not great,” is what Danny eventually settled on.

The line was silent in the wake of that non answer.

Danny flopped back on the lush March grass and stared up at the cloudless sky spanning above him. If he focused, he thought he could make out Venus burning through the blue. There were no other stars to be seen at this time of day.

“You really think Gotham would have enough ecto for me?” Danny asked into the void. He scratched absently at his neck and the gently writhing lichtenberg scars there. Sure, he’d heard horror stories of the atrocities that went on in Gotham, but Amity Park had literally been dragged into hell not a month ago. If he was gonna move somewhere that even had a chance at being as haunted as Amity, Gotham probably was it.

There was an icy spark behind his ribs at the thought of moving there, and he rubbed at his chest. No one willingly moved to Gotham.

“I mean, if you’re worried about the levels of ecto,” Sam said eventually, much quieter, “why not go check? New Jersey is just down the coast from Massachusetts, isn’t it?”

It was. And that was… not a terrible suggestion. Get a reading, see if it was worth it to spend the time wrapping his mind around the idea that moving to Gotham was a good idea. See if it was worth getting his hopes up again.

“I mean, you could make it there before dark if you left now,” Tucker added, picking up his typing once more. “Crime reports are down 68% during the day. You wouldn’t even be visible to cameras, especially if you stay invisible. They don’t have that type of tech there.”

Well. That kind of decided it then, didn’t it?

The cold spark behind his ribs burned a little brighter.

“Alright,” Danny said, drifting back up into the sky. There was an itching tug at his core, and he drifted toward where it led him toward the south. “I’ll head there now, then. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Danny,” Jazz said again, quiet but intense. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I know you don’t Jazz,” he said as gently as he could. The chill was increasing in strength as he picked up speed and raced for the border to Rhode Island. “But… If it’s my ticket out of Amity?” Ancients, the words felt almost giddy in his mouth. Out of Amity Park. How long had he been dreaming of that? “I have to take it. Don’t you think?”

The line was silent for a long time - long enough that Danny was nearly to the border by the time Jazz replied.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. Just… be safe, okay?”

“Of course I will,” he promised. But even then, when everything was still okay, the words rang hollow and untrue.

⋆˖⁺⊹₊⋆✧⋆₊⊹⁺˖⋆

Ectoplasm made a different sound than water did when it hit the ground, Danny was learning. The endless drip, drip, drip was different from the sound a leaky faucet made. It was thicker and more robust; more like a plop than a plink. The sound of it was driving him mad. It was also the one of the only things tethering him to sanity.

Danny had long since given up trying to reconcile the dualities of this place. Time passed in a hazy-quick blur, yet seconds dragged on for hours; his body pulsed with life, yet they cut him open as if he were dead; he had no mouth, yet he was always, always screaming.

Hah. A reference. Good one.

Those little thoughts helped him keep hold of his sanity, too. Little snatches of memories from his life before… this. A mindless reference here, the fleeting thought of someone’s face there. All of it grounded him, no matter how slight. So what if he couldn’t remember what he was referencing or who he was seeing? All that mattered was he’d held onto enough of himself to do so in the first place.

The plop, plop, plop of his ectoplasm on the floor slowed to a stop. He would have groaned with relief if he had any capability to do so. The muzzle affixed to his jaw and over the bridge of his nose assured that he did not. He shifted slightly in his restraints upon the cold surgical table.

Tonight’s the night, he thought sluggishly. The doctors had left minutes ago, and unlike the past few weeks, Danny had clung desperately to consciousness in their absence. The researchers had used to work in shifts so that someone was dissecting working on him at all times, but they’d recently pared down to a single team that required breaks to eat and sleep. He didn’t care enough to wonder why. He just knew it gave him a sliver of a chance.

That was all he needed.

The increase in rest Danny had been afforded these past few weeks hadn’t left him unaffected. Rather, he was brimming with an amount of energy he hadn’t felt in months. He felt fully lucid and aware for the first time in Ancients know how long, and he wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste. No, he’d waited and waited for all those extra hours of rest to start to add up and now… Now it was time for his patience to pay off.

Danny stared up at the ceiling for a long moment. If this didn’t work, he’d have to wait another few weeks to work up the energy again. He closed his eyes and centered his breathing. Then, with an internal cry, Danny wrenched his transformation from the depths of his shrunken, emaciated core.

It felt like he was rending himself in two, like he was being torn apart from within and born anew. Twin beams of light reflected against the sterile white ceiling, and all at once the transformation took hold. All at once, Danny was shoved back into his aching, all-too-human body and left panting on the icy metal. It was the most glorious feeling in the world.

It took so little effort to squeeze his hands out of his ecto-resistant restraints, to roll off the side of the table and collapse on the floor with a dull thud. The pain of the impact rocked through him, but he didn’t have the mind to care. Tears leaked out of his eyes, once again clear liquid instead of neon ectoplasm, and his chest shook with hysterical, silent sobs.

He was human again. He- He was a person, just like he’d insisted and sobbed for hours upon first arriving here. A fact that the doctors had ignored in favor of muzzling his cries so they could carry on with their experiments in peace.

At the thought, Danny hoisted himself into a sitting position and scrabbled, half feral, at the latch that kept the mask affixed to his face. His fingers were stiff and ineffectual from being broken and pinned down into uselessness long ago, however, and nothing he did could make the wretched thing budge.

Danny dropped his head into his hands and cried.

His tears dripped through his fingers and into the rapidly diminishing puddle of ectoplasm he was sitting in. His body was already trying to sluggishly heal itself using that which had bled off him a few scant hours ago, and before long he was sitting on dry ground. He sniffed and looked up.

Alright, it was time to go. Sitting around wallowing wouldn’t get him anywhere. What he needed to do was get out. The recouping of his ectoplasm along with the extra rest he’d been stockpiling meant he was still reeling with unprecedented energy. He was well aware a good amount of it was adrenaline, but that just meant he had to work quickly.

Danny pushed himself to his feet. He tilted precariously before he managed to right himself with one hand on the cold surgical table. So cold, even with his ectoplasm leaking all over it. He stumbled over to the wall that controlled the Ghost Shield, to the glowing button that had ruled his life for the past uncountable days.

With feral glee, he slammed his human fist into it. The apparatus gave an electronic whine, and then the green glow dulled to gray and the Ghost Shield surrounding the lab fizzled out of existence.

Danny had never felt such relief.Alarms blared to life, but it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered, except the bliss that was transforming into his ghost form without any expectation of pain, without any fear. He was free. Without a backward glance, Danny hauled up his intangibility and rocketed through the ceiling of the lab and into the open expanse of the night sky.

[moosesarecute]

Part 6: The Shadows Sing

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 7

Azriel didn’t know why he felt so shocked.

He had seen her use her shadows, but he didn’t believe himself. Shadowsingers were so rare! It didn’t make sense that they were two alive at the same time.

His head was spinning.

He was almost 500 years older than her, so maybe it wasn’t that weird that they were two?

She had rushed out the cabin once more. However, she let her shadows stay behind.

“Can you ask them to go away from my mouth?” He asked his shadows.

“They’re scared,” they answered.

“Tell them we won’t hurt them or their mistress,” he continued.

Azriel wouldn’t dream of hurting you. He couldn’t even think about you being hurt without going a little feral.

“They say that when Pretty Eyes’ feelings are too strong she has control over them, so they can’t let go right now. They know you won’t hurt them.”

Azriel realized something important.

“She can’t usually control them?” He asked.

“No, master,” his shadows answered. “Only hide, talk to and shadow walk.”

So she’s a secret shadowsinger and she can’t control her shadows. Doesn’t sound like an easy life.

He felt himself worry about her.

She didn’t eat, she lives alone in dangerous forests and she couldn’t control the shadows that basically was connected to her body.

“They want us to help her,” his shadows told him.

“With what?”

“Surviving.”

He had waited for her to come back for over two hours before he left. He soon realized she was doing her best to spend as much time as possible away from her cabin.

He left the rest of the food out for her to eat when she got back.

She hadn’t eaten a lot for breakfast. Azriel expected it to not be because she didn’t like it, but because she wasn’t used to having that big portions.

He hated thinking about that.

He felt himself distant the entire day. Cassian easily beat him in combat training and he didn’t manage to follow any conversations during the evening’s family dinner.

In the end, he decided to step out on the balcony to get a break. His head was spinning with thoughts.

Y/N was so young! But she still must have lived through many horrors. She must have gotten her shadows somehow. Also the naga that bit of her foot must have been traumatic. And the fact that she didn’t dear to tell anyone about her being a shadowsinger. Someone must have terrified her.

He hoped that someone wasn’t him.

He heard the door to the balcony open. The steps told him it was Nesta.

“Can I sit?” She asked him.

He just nodded and moved over to make place on the bench he sat on. She sat down.

“Cassian’s worried about you,” she stated. “I’m too. You’ve been distant lately. More than usual I mean.”

Azriel guessed he had been spending a lot of his free time away. Either in the library trying to learn about The Middle or in The Middle trying to learn about you.

“Soooo,” she continued. “Who’s the girl?”

Azriel turned to look at Nesta with an eyebrow raised.

“You’ve been way too smiling lately,” she explained. “I think everybody knows there’s someone. No one has just dared to ask.”

Azriel suddenly realized how much he needed to talk to someone about you. He felt lost. He wanted to help you, he had promised your shadows that he would, but he had no idea how.

“There’s this female,” he started. But he suddenly didn’t know how to continue.

“You’re dating?” Nesta asked.

Azriel thought for a few moments. But he was so overwhelmed by all he was feeling for you, he couldn’t communicate.

“She hadn’t even tasted chocolate for cauldrons sake!” He almost yelled out. “She’s young, she hunts for a living, she has basically no food and she hadn’t even tasted chocolate.”

Nesta only looked at him with wide eyes. It wasn’t usual for him to have such outbursts.

“I saw her on the battlefield against Hybern and have been dreaming about her ever since. And then we met again and I have done my best to get to know her, but she’s terrified. But I just can’t leave her alone.

“I’ve also recently found out something else about her. Something that changes a lot. But she won’t ever let me help her.”

It was Nesta’s turn to think.

“If she’s been living in survival mode for this long, it might be hard for her to realize that something is wrong,” Nesta tried to explain. “If she hasn’t had anyone to trust, it won’t be easy for her to trust you. If she hasn’t gotten help from anyone before, she maybe doesn’t realize you want to help.”

It did make sense.

Y/N acted skittish and she definitely had trust issues. Azriel wanted to be the person that you could trust. He needed to make sure you were save and happy in your life, but he knew you were under too much stress to life a good life.

“You have to make her realize you can help her, without you needed anything back from her,” Nesta said. “You have to learn her to ask for help.”

“What do you know about the hunting group in The Middle?” Azriel asked Rhys.

It had been a week and he still hadn’t dared to go back to you.

He had spent his days being busy with missions and told himself that he’d been too busy to visit you. Even though he knew that he did have time, but was too nervous to go.

The fact that you’re a shadowsinger too made him nervous.

He didn’t like to know that she would understand the horrors he’d been through. She’d been through similar things.

He also hated that she’d been traumatized enough for her to get her shadows.

He really wanted to hold her.

“I don’t know much,” Rhys answered. “They were forced to hunt for Amarantha, so that’s when I heard about them first.”

Azriel felt his chest lit up with anger as he realized you’d gone through terrors Under The Mountain.

For 50 years you’d hide your true powers from the most powerful person at the time. It’s not weird you lived in survival mode.

“They had to give weekly reports and they always sent the same female. The poor girl was only 18 when it all started. She had a hard time to say at least.”

Azriel felt his heart stop. Y/N was turning 70 years soon. She would have been 18 at the time Amarantha took over.

He could throw up.

Rhys had known about her?

“To be honest, I don’t even know if she’s alive,” Rhys continued.

Rhys had known about her and didn’t try to save her? He felt himself start getting mad at Rhys. This young female had gone through way too much.

“Did she have a prosthetic leg?” Azriel asked before he could think.

He needed to know.

“Yeah,” Rhys said nodding. “She had lost both her wings and her leg. Surprised she’s lived this long.”

Her wings?

Her wings!

She wasn’t only a shadowsinger, she was illyran. An illyran that lost her wings.

“How did you know that?” Rhys asked him.

He felt himself getting angrier and angrier. He tried to hold back, but he soon felt himself wanting to yell at Rhys.

Before he could start, his shadows came storming through the door.

“Pretty eyes, help, friends, help,” they were screaming at him.

Before Rhys could utter another word, Azriel had shadow walked away.

He landed in the middle of your cabin. But you weren’t there.

“Where is she?” He asked his shadows.

He soon felt something pull his wrist. He looked down and realized it wasn’t his shadow. It was a lot lighter than his, a lot smaller as well, but its determination and pull was as strong as his own.

“Can you show me?” He asked it.

He didn’t wait for an answer as he covered himself in his shadows and prepared to shadow walk away.

He landed besides a lake and soon saw you.

You sat on a stone just a few meters from the lake. You were soaked and shivering.

But what worried Azriel, was the fact that your shadows were out.

They immediately surrounded him, pulling him towards you. Azriel followed their pull. He moved slowly, trying not to startle you.

He crunched down next to you, but you didn’t acknowledge him. Your shadows moved back to you. They swirled close to you, obliviously trying to warm you.

“Hi, Y/N,” he whispered. You still only stared straight ahead. “Can you hear me?”

When your only reaction was to start shaking even more, Azriel sprung into action.

“I’m going to shadow walk us to your cabin, okay?” He asked, but he knew you wouldn’t answer. “I’m going to pick you up now.”

He moved towards you and carefully lifted you up into his arms. He made sure to move slowly, so that you could move away or signal for him to stop if you needed it. You were so light and little in his arms. He wanted to hold you forever.

To his surprise, you only snuggled deeply into his chest. The warmth that spread through Azriel’s chest lasted for multiple days.

As he landed in your cabin and carefully sat you down on your chair.

“Can you ask them to change her clothes?” He asked his shadows.

He watched his shadows intertwine with yours as they spoke. It was a weirdly wholesome to watch his companions, they looked extremely happy and relaxed.

“We’ll have to leave, but they’ll change her,” his shadows informed him.

He felt himself grow stubborn. He wouldn’t leave her, he couldn’t leave her. Not in this state. She was freezing and shaking, he needed to help her. He felt such a deep need to protect her. He wouldn’t leave her. They’d have to throw him out.

“We just have to wait outside,” his shadows informed him. “We can come back in later.”

Azriel realized just how much you meant to him.

Azriel had spent the longest three minutes of his life waiting in his shadows outside your cabin. When your shadows came to get him, he basically ran back inside.

They had helped you into your bed and had tucked you into a blanket full of holes. You had stopped shivering and you had gotten some color on your cheeks.

However, your eyes were closed and your chest raised and sank in a comfortable speed. You were asleep at home and Azriel felt himself calm down.

@i-have-a-thing-for-the-dark @saltedcoffeescotch @rcarbo1

[highly-flammable]

What do you think Peeta is trying to say with the if I can grows wings I could fly after Katniss says it is good if he can start to identity the shiny memories as then he can figure out what is true? He then says mockingjays need wings to survive when she says real people don’t

This scene is a very subtle and tentative display of compassion between the characters.

Peeta at this point is starting to sort out some of his memories, but bear in mind that all he can do is separate the shiny ones from the ones that are not shiny. He cannot actually recover the memories which have been already tampered with, at least not by himself, and even if he is shown footage of those moments and told that the truth is different from what it feels like to him, the emotional consequences of his hijacking are still not wholly removed. All of this is to say that his mental state is extremely confused.

Katniss is trying to comfort him by offering him a simple solution, but his situation is actually not simple, and that is why he uses quiet sarcasm here. It’s like this, “Yeah, I can just sort out of the memories and learn what is true, the same way I can just grow wings and fly.” He is not being unkind towards her, but rather bleakly pointing out how unlikely it is that he will ever be able to fully understand and internalize what was true and what was not.

In response, Katniss gently tells him that people don’t need wings to survive. With this line she acknowledges that he is right and the task she spoke of like it was so simple might be impossible for Peeta, and he doesn’t have to do anything impossible to survive. It is okay that his perception of reality is a mess, it is okay that he is damaged, he can still live. (By the way, this is a big piece of development in their relationship, because as far as I remember this is the first time Katniss has been able to voice her acceptance for hijacked Peeta. This is her letting go of the near-perfect image of the old, resilient, strong Peeta, and acknowledging that Peeta is not gone, only changed, and whoever he is now, that is okay with her.)

But this kind of grace is hardly ever extended to Katniss herself. She had been turned into a symbol of revolution before she even knew it, and then she was paraded around, made to look like an inspiration and source of strength, pressured into compliance, even when she was traumatized and afraid and grieving. It is a deadly game for Katniss, with no out. She can either be the Mockingjay, or she will be destroyed.

Haunted, broken Peeta, even though he had been programmed to hate and fear her, has come to understand some of this as he tries to work out who Katniss truly is. This is perhaps especially because Coin has sent him to join Katniss’ squad. Confused as Peeta is, he is smart and likely has worked it out (especially after the psychotic break when he tried to kill Katniss roughly a day ago) that Coin actually wants her dead. He and the rest of the squad have also figured out that Katniss is lying about the mission for Snow’s assassination being sanctioned by Coin, that it is actually her personal mission. They understand, or at the very least Peeta understands, that this means Katniss knows her situation is dangerous enough that she cannot go back to anyone who can then hand her over to Coin. She feels like she herself has to end this and buy her freedom and safety through that Herculean feat. All in all, Katniss is immensely burdened. She cannot afford to be her authentic, flawed self, to be afraid or weak. She has to be a symbol of strength and hope, even now. To choose otherwise is to choose death or some other form of annihilation.

This understanding is why Peeta says, “Mockingjays do (need wings to survive)”. He cannot offer her the comfort that just being who she truly is, is going to be enough for her survival. But he can acknowledge what a difficult situation she is in.

By the way, after this exchange is the first time Katniss voluntarily touches Peeta to soothe him since his hijacking. And Peeta feels safe enough with her that he lets her.

[coolshadowtwins]

I have this au that just kinda… drops off half way through, which is why I haven’t posted it before. But I can’t think of anything else for it, so you get what little there is!

SXY manages to survive the poison when giving birth. Maybe it wasn’t as strong, maybe she managed to cut it off early enough, maybe LBH’s demon blood helped. Who knows. The point is, she is now half dead instead of fully dead, in a lot of pain, and has a newborn baby because she just gave birth! She’s just thinking about doing her original plan- sending LBH down the river- when a nice washer woman comes along and finds her.

I’m going to call her Ms Luo for this, since she doesn’t have a name in canon. Ms Luo is a kind woman! She’s kind of enough to take in a baby she has found in the wilderness, and she’s kind enough to take in this dying, half feral cultivator and her newborn baby as well!

SXY doesn’t trust it- obviously. But she doesn’t get much of a say when she falls unconscious, does she, hmmm? And she stays in and out of unconsciousness for the next few days, at least. The poi didn’t kill her, but it did mess her up. I imagine for this au it would limit her lower mobility, if it was trying to kill the baby. Some bad nerve damage there.

But Ms Luo is here! She doesn’t have much, but she does care for the baby as SXY is unconscious. She tries to get medication for SXY as well, but isn’t successful. Just as well- normal medication wouldn’t do much for what’s wrong anyway.

And this is the new normal that SXY wakes up to- a week plus later, her cultivation (which also would have taken a hit) having done its best at repairing the damage, her lover and the father of her child either dead or sealed away out of reach, and at the mercy of this random washerwoman.

She’s not getting any better until she could see a sect doctor, preferably one of the best ones. But that’s never going to happen- she’s wanted now, surely! Demonic sympathizers were never treated well. (The cultivation world thinks she’s dead, tragically killed by TJL. But she doesn’t know this yet.)

So she does the only thing she can- hang around and help Ms Luo out. She can’t leave, not with her mobility issues, nor would she be able to provide for her baby. But she can stay here, under the kindness of this woman, and try and help her out.

She starts to help wash the clothes- don’t have to be standing for parts of that! To save on food, she focuses her limited cultivation so she doesn’t have to eat the limited supplies they have. She’s terrifying, and she’s uses that to her advantage when intimidating Ms Luo’s shitty boss.

Ms Luo repays her by not only letting her live there, but also helping with LBH, giving SXY a new name to hide with, and her friendship. (SXY will never admit it, but she never had a lot of friends. Having one in Ms Luo was… nice)

LBH, meanwhile, is absolutely loving being raised by two moms. He’s learning to cook from Ms Luo, and learning cultivating from SXY. What else would a young boy need?

And then LBH is ten, and Ms Luo gets sick. Like, really sick. Nothing SXY, in her limited medical knowledge, does helps her. The town doesn’t have a clinic, and the nearest one is a while away. Not only that, they don’t have the money to go. SXY can see only one way to help her friend- go to the one place that (probably) wouldn’t turn her away for being a criminal when there’s a life of the line. CQM.

Cue a travel montage of SXY (who has limited mobility), Ms Luo (who is deathly sick), and LBH (who is ten), trying to get to CQM before it is too late.

They do make it there- only to be stopped at the stairs. They aren’t stopped by an actual person! They are stopped by the actual stairs. SXY can’t walk them. Ms Luo can’t walk them.

That leaves LBH, ten and scruffy and probably looking too thin, to be the one to climb the giant staircase, up to the sect in the heavens.

The last thought I have of this au is the funny image of whoever happens to be at the top of the stairs that morning, being greeted by what looks to be a street urchin tell you that his mother is the long thought dead SXY and that she’s down the stairs, along with his other mother (by the way, he has two), and both are dying. Would you believe him?

(I have nothing after this. Please, tell me in reblogs and replies about how you would continue this)

[radlyradar]

How would the companions (minus longfellow) act with a Deaf/HOH Sole Survivor ?

I made this because silly and my sole survivor is half deaf :))

Preston

Preston already has a concept of signed gestures and hearing loss, from trying to communicate around artillery or in battle. He’s even met Deaf/HOH settlers before, but never before has he travelled with someone who couldn’t hear. It takes him a bit to get the hang of communication, learning conversational signs from Sole and making sure he’s in clear view when he talks if they lip read. That being said, it doesn’t change much, he still sees them as that leadership role the minuteman need. He ends up getting Sole to teach passing minutemen signs so they can communicate or trying to teach them all himself once he becomes more fluent.

Deacon

He’s hesitant at first, after all if you can’t hear yourself you gotta be loud as all hell. When Sole proves they can be stealthy though, he changes his tune. They both sign often to keep conversations more secretive and he’ll act as ‘interpreter’ on missions so he can pass by with less attention.

Hancock

Hancock has DEFINITELY met a Deaf traveler before, I mean it’s Goodneighbor. I think he would communicate with writing things, whether on dirt or walls or any available paper. Now that he’s traveling with Sole though, he’s trying to learn so he can communicate easier with anyone passing through Goodneighbor. (Though I think he’s definitely the guy who wants to learn curses and phallic words first).

Strong

He surprisingly doesn’t immediately hate them for it. But he will get frustrated when Sole don’t respond. he eventually figures out that they’ve been signing to him and their responses are all half guesses. He thinks about leaving but then remembers that they’ve lived this long without hearing ANYTHING (this is untrue, you may be able to hear something but he doesn’t know that). So he stays with Sole a bit longer, relying on gestures and lip reading if they can. They both learn that his big hands don’t make great signing and he gives up on learning anything expressive and slowing learns receptively by watching them.

Curie

Curie finds it fascinating, but not surprising that Sole can survive out here. She likes watching them and studying how they function in the world without hearing. When she’s still a nanny bot she very easily learns receptive sign, but when she gets her new body she’s ecstatic to use it for herself and quickly takes to signing back to Sole. She’s a quick stumbling kind of signer though so she can be hard to understand.

Cait

Cait and Tommy are super fucking confused when the person who killed every raider in the combat zone doesn’t respond at first. Her first impression is that they were stupid or playing a joke, she’s never met a Deaf person before. When she and Sole first travel together she finds the ‘what’s, ‘huh’s, confused faces, and or lack of responses extremely annoying. As they travel together though and she starts to realize they really view her as a person she’ll apologize. She never really gets good at sign but she’ll sign small things to you and struggle to understand when Sole signs back. 

Maccready

This guy also already has a concept of sign. But not conversational in the slightest, still, he takes to it like a duck on water. He’s probably ending up the easiest to sign to (other than like Nick) because he ends up focusing on learning sign for like a few months straight and is using it constantly after. He does tell Sole that he wants to teach Duncan when he sees him again or get word passed on to his old home since it could prove useful to Deaf and hearing kids.

Gage

He’s a bit confused at first, and in all honesty considers leaving them in that ratty ass bumper car room, but he remembers that they need a new overboss and it’s not like they haven’t had people with hearing loss in the raiders gangs before. He finds most of the things they do pretty normal, like lipreading and being extra vigilant, hearing can be hard, and words muddle together, it only makes sense that you’d watch someone’s mouth to know what they’re saying- wait that’s not normal? Huh, maybe the years of explosions and gunfire are getting to him. 

He does end up learning sign and finds it a lot easier then verbal communication 

Nick

Nick is already fluent, he knows what Deaf people are from his past memories. He doesn’t even realize he knows sign until him and Sole are talking and he ends up enjoying travelling with them. Nothing much really changed about your relationship. The Kellogg case does become more difficult since they can’t hear him in the memory den

Codsworth

He was with Sole pre war and due to his programming he already understands signing but can’t sign back. He mostly just points and stuff. 

Piper

Thank god for Piper. Due to the speaker entrance chances are Sole wouldn’t get into Diamond City unassisted. But with Piper’s scheme they both got in with ease. She realizes there’s something up immediately and when Sole tells her about their hearing she immediately tries an interview. This of course does not go well. As they travel together she tries to pick up sign but never gets good at it. One thing Sole misses out on are her yap sessions. Don’t get me wrong, she still has them, but they both know that there’s no way in hell that Sole is understanding most of what she’s saying.

Dogmeat

Honestly, he probably won’t notice at first, he protects Sole the same and unless they’re nonverbal he’s probably gonna take awhile. He might just think they’re quiet. After some time though Dogmeat will start listening to and watching for signed command and instead of baking to alert them he’ll paw at their foot or jump and try to catch their attention if he’s too far away and still in view. They both work out pretty well, he’s a good dog.

Ada

Ada has never met a Deaf person and Sole cannot read Ada’s lips so it’s a struggle. They eventually get a similar relationship to the one Sole would have with Strong.

X6-88

What the fuck is this hand language, why is Father not like this? How is this person still alive? So many questions. He’s never met a Deaf person and no one’s told him, they’ve had broken synths who can’t hear, is that the same? He asks a lot of questions, some uncomfortable or kind of rude and honestly sucks at first, but once he gets to know them and realize he’s getting closer to Sole, he apologizes and tones it down. He ends up taking to sign pretty well and realizes how useful it is in day to day as well as battle. He ends up acting as an interpreter if Sole lets him.

Danse

At first he thinks they aren’t listening on purpose, then realizes what’s actually going on. He’s never met a Deaf traveler. Being already bad with people this makes him anxious, which comes off as aggression, but he realizes how much easier it is to be around them. He doesn’t take part in small talk and takes to sign pretty well. Similar to X6-88 he’ll probably ask a lot of questions, some being a bit rude. Though, at least he’ll have shame when asking these at least.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Mockingjay - Part 6

Hello world!

So this is the new chapter for Mockingjay :)

Unlike what I said before, the Games are starting in this one, I was a little bit tired of them being in the Capitol and wanted a little more action!

I hope you will like this chapter and enjoy it. Please let me know what you think about it ♥

TW : Fight, weapon, blood, death. It's the Hunger Games, after all.

Also! I made a map that you can find at the end of the chapter, if you want to see what I imagined :)

Please don't make fun of it, it took me one all night to do it.

Chapter before

Saying goodbye to Lucy last night was something horrible for Ona. She was glad to find no one in the living room when she came back to their quarter. She then took a shower and went to bed. She didn’t realize that she was crying until she heard someone knock on the door.

Ona was scared to see Tony, but it was only Alexia. The blonde hasn’t asked anything, she just asked Ona if she needed her. Ona needed her, but the brunette didn’t know how. Alexia took care of everything though, giving her one of the gummies to help her sleep and cuddling her all night long.

Breakfast and everything else felt really strange this morning. It was strange to realize that it’s their last meal together, the last time Ona smiles at Leila’s jokes or the last time she changes into her bedroom.

Only today she realizes that Jana might have slept in the same bed.

Ona was taken away by two Peacekeepers from her quarter and it’s Alexia from her team who comes with her. For Tony, it was another man of the team, who Ona doesn’t really like. Ona says goodbye to Leila too, hugging her tightly and thanking her for the way she dressed her.

Just before going inside the Arena, her clothes were checked by people probably working for the Capitol. Ona is a little bit out of it to be honest. Those people could do what they want with her, she won’t say anything. But on the other hand, she knows that Alexia is here to keep an eye on her.

“She has the right to have it. The President said it was okay.”

Ona raises her head when she hears Alexia’s voice, just to realize that the woman in front of her was looking at her pendant with suspicion. But the woman finally nods and takes her hands away from Ona.

“I’ll give you time to say goodbye. May the odds be ever in your favor, Ona.”

“Thanks” Ona mumbles back.

She takes a big breath when the door is closed, turning to face Alexia. For the first time since she knows her, Alexia seems a little bit lost in her feelings. Or at least she’s not as good as she was until now to hide it. She looks sad, her eyes a little watery.

“Come here” Alexia says.

Without hesitation, Ona takes two steps to be in the blonde’s arms. It’s sad to say that she had two of her best encounters just before fighting for her life. But at least she was in good company.

“You can do it, Ona” Alexia whispers, still holding Ona in her arms. “You are clever, you are smart, you are strong. Just don’t take unnecessary risks and don’t fight if you don’t need to. Try to survive and don’t forget everything you had learn about survival”

Ona nods in Alexia’s arms and jumps when she hears a robotic voice resound in the room.

“Games start in 2 minutes.”

Alexia let go of Ona, just to gently take her face in her hands.

“I am honored to have been your Mentor”

“Thank you” Ona smiles back this time. “I couldn’t have asked for a better one. I really hope you will be happy for the rest of your life, with Olga too.”

“Thank you. If we have a girl one day, I’ll call her Ona.”

Ona doesn’t know what to answer, so she just takes Alexia in her arms one last time and kisses her cheek.

“Games start in 1 minute. Please go inside the tube.”

“I’m going to miss you” Alexia says, helping Ona to get inside the tube. “Trust your guts, okay?”

Ona nods once more, biting her lips.

“I’m scared” she whispers.

“You would be stupid not to be”

“Games start in 30 seconds.”

Alexia arranges Ona’s hair and outfit, briefly squeezing her in her arms before backing away from the tube. Ona feels like her heart will explode soon.

“Big breaths,” Alexia says softly. “I trust and believe in you. And I’m already proud of you, no matter what. Just like your family and friends.”

“Games start in 15 seconds.”

“Thank you. Thanks for everything. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Then the door of the tube closes itself and Ona feels the ground where she’s standing starting to move. It finally goes up and she looks at Alexia as long as she can. It’s black for some seconds before a bright light dazzles her.

After she blinks her eyes, Ona takes a moment to look around her. There is a red digit count above their heads, counting from 30 to 0. All the tributes are positioned to form a circle, just like the other years. Next to her is Tony, his gaze right in front of him. Ona knows he will try to take supplies or a weapon. She won’t try this, even if it’s tempting.

Ona’s eyes stop a moment on Lucy’s frame, a little more on her left. She never had seen Lucy with a face concentrated like this. Her jaw is tense, just like her body, ready to jump from her platform. She’s not looking at anything but her goal in front of her. Ona turns her gaze, looking for an escape.

She doesn’t know where they are on the map, but she decides to run as fast as possible in the forest behind her. The view seems clear in front of her, meaning she will have trouble hiding. Ona wants to stick with her plan, hiding at day, moving at night.

Reassured by her plan, she stands a little straighter on her platform and gets ready for the ten last seconds before the beginning.

When the shot sounds, it is an incredible cacophony. Screams, shouts and other noises Ona doesn’t know what they are. She hears several shots of cannon too, meaning some of them are already dead. Feeling her heart go down, Ona remembers that it may be Lucy.

But she keeps running, zigzagging through the trees with agility. After some minutes, she’s only able to hear her respiration and she decides to slow down a little. The forest is dark and dense, she’s not used to this kind of environment. Just like they decided with Alexia, Ona looks for a good tree to climb. She finally chooses one oak who has enough branches for her to do that.

She manages to reach the top pretty easily, offering herself a breathtaking view of the surrounding area. There are only trees around her, but it seems to her that she recognizes the shape of buildings in the background. Which would be a first, but at least it’s something she knows.

Ona freezes suddenly when she hears someone running below her. Silently she descends a little bit to try to see who it is. It’s a boy she never had talked to, from the six. He’s pretty young too, but Ona realizes very soon that he’s chased by other people.

He doesn’t stand a chance when they surround him, and Ona closes her eyes just before a new shot of canon. Some minutes later, they are gone.

It’s strange to look at that boy and she’s ashamed of the thought that she still can have a look at what is inside his bag. But he won’t need it now, unlike Ona. She hesitates for several more minutes before going down her tree. She doesn’t look at the bag for now, she just takes it and looks for another tree to climb.

In her quest she goes closer to the city but decides not to go inside for now. It’s still the day and it might have more people coming. Instead, she sits on a branch of the big tree she just climbed.

Then she opens the bags, looking at what is inside. She finds a gourd, rope, metal bowl and small knife. Which is pretty great, to be honest. She wasn’t expecting that much. She won’t be able to defend herself with that knife, but she could cut fruits or small wood pieces if she finds some.

When the night starts to fall, Ona is still sitting on her tree. It’s a little bit boring to be honest, but she doesn’t really have a choice. She hasn’t counted how many shots of cannon were heard, but when the sky is dark, there is this famous music. And then the pictures of the dead people are shown.

She feels sad when she sees that Anna hasn’t made it, her picture white in the dark sky. But Lucy is still alive and that is what matters to Ona. It looks like all the careers tributes are still alive too, just like Tony and Teagan.

Just like she asked herself if she should walk to the city now, Ona hears someone walking near her. She frowns and tries to look without being seen, but she’s just able to see a frame going back to where they started several hours before. Ona decides to use the rope to attach herself to the branch and not fall if it ever falls asleep.

Which seems to be a good idea, because Ona ends up dozing for several hours into the night. She jumps when she wakes up, looking around her just to remember where she is.

Ona waits until dawn to go down from her tree. She even finds a little river to put some water inside her gourd and wash her face and hands. The forest is a little scary in the dark like this to be honest and she’s relieved when she sees the buildings drawn in the sky. It’s something that feels familiar to her. She grew up in this kind of view and it almost feels comforting.

The city looks like an old, abandoned city and she wonders if and how many tributes are hidden in there. For her, it’s the most perfect and secure spot. She feels a little too exposed to her taste, even if the sun isn’t really there for now. The city contains a lot of buildings with at least six floors, what looks like a nuclear factory, some small houses and several warehouses. Everything seems grey and concrete.

Ona chooses a building a little outside the centre that allows her to see the horizon and eventual tributes coming. She doesn’t want to fight, but she knows she will have to at some point.

The door of the building seems heavy to push, and she decides not to enter by it, scared to make too much noise and attract attention on her. Bypassing the building, she eventually found another door and pushes it slowly. The silence is almost overmelting here.

Silently walking through the different floors, Ona finds no one. The building has six floors with two flats on each floor. The last stairs lead to the roof, but Ona decides not to go there for now. She’s certain that no one came here before her. She finds different things, like a lighter (who is working) and a hoodie who feels hotter than the dress provided by the Capitol.

She decides not to wear it inside though, where it’s colder than inside the building. Sighing softly, Ona sits on a mattress on the floor, hugging her knees. She misses Lucy’s warmth. She just misses Lucy. But she’s not sure that the feeling is reciprocating. Ona remembers Lucy's concentrated face perfectly, the way she hasn’t even looked her way.

Sighing softly, Ona presses her forehead against her knees. She doesn’t want to be here, why was she the one chosen for the Games? Why hasn’t she met Lucy somewhere else? Why does Life give her something so strong and beautiful just for some days before taking it back? She wishes that Lucy could hug her right now, she never felt so alone in her life.

Her breath is hot like her tears when she hears a little “bip” coming from somewhere next to her. It makes her jump, and she quickly looks around to try to find it. It’s when she spots it, a little metal box with a parachute. Ona frowns before taking it, she knows what it is. It’s something given by the Sponsors. She forgot that point.

With shaky hands, she opens the box and looks at what’s inside. And she feels her heart jump. It’s dry meat, bread and chocolate, something she can eat later if she wants, but something that will give her the energy she needs. And something that definitely will help her to fight hunger.

There is a little message inside too.

“Keep going, Onita. You are stronger than you think. Love, A.”

She knows it’s Alexia. Smiling softly, she wipes a tear on her cheek and carefully folds the paper in the inside pocket of her bag.  The small paper warms her heart up. She realises at this point that she doesn’t have any weapons and starts to freak out a little bit. She has nothing to fight if someone finds her.

The sun is shining when she realises that she falls asleep again. She needs two seconds to understand what has woken her up and jumps on her feet when she hears several voices coming from inside the building. She’s screwed. She can’t go out of the building because she’s on the last floor and she’s pretty sure that she will die if she tries to go out of the windows.

Ona can’t count how many there are, and she doesn’t recognize any voice until…

“There is another floor.”

It’s Lilith’s voice.

Which means she is here with maybe five other people. Lucy told her that all the career’s districts planned to stick together. She doesn’t stand any chances. Ona is really panicking and looking for a good hiding place. But the rooms are empty, if it is not for a shelf or mattress that is lying on the floor.

Ona finally hides behind the open door and the wall inside what she imagines is the bedroom, putting her hand on her mouth to hide her breathing. She’s so stressed that she’s shaking, and her heart is pounding. She can hear it in her ears.

“I’m going to see the roof” a male voice says.

Ona can hear the footsteps from the boy resonate from the other side of the wall where she is. Another footstep is going in the flat next door, but she can hear someone walking on the same flat that she is.

Ona freezes when she hears the person entering the room. She can’t see who it is. She’s not moving at this point but she’s not breathing either. But she jumps when the person suddenly comes in front of her.

It’s Lucy.

Lucy looks at her right in her eyes, her gaze hard and dark. It makes Ona shivers, Lucy never looked at her like that. Lucy’s eyes were always tender and full of teasing when she looked at her.

But, after several seconds, she slowly raises a finger on her lips to tell Ona not to make any noise. A fraction of seconds later, she’s gone.

“There’s no one here” she says several seconds later, her voice now coming from between the two flats.

She seems irritated, as if someone made her lose her time.

“I was sure I saw someone coming here” another female voice mumbles.

“It’s the last building” Declan points out. “We should go back across the river.”

There is a whisper of general approval and footsteps going down the stairs.

“I hate her” Lucy grumbles. “She’s the first one I’ll kill after we separate from them.”

“Just wait for several hours please” Declan laughs.

Their voices indicate that they are going down too. Ona still hasn’t made any moves, too scared to be spotted by someone else. As their voices are fading away, Ona realises that Lucy just saved her life. Maybe she’s not the only one missing the other, after all?

Ona waits a long moment before going out of the room. Her hands are still shaking, and she treats herself with a little bit of water. She takes deep big breaths too, closing her eyes several seconds to recompose herself. She probably never has been so scared in her life.

Maybe she will be safer in the woods after all. Golden hour is here when she leaves the building, choosing to pass from inside the city this time. During her time in the building, she realises that she was next to the end of the map, the force fields being sometimes visible, especially when they are showing pictures of dead tributes.

The night is almost here when she’s finally inside the woods again. She took the time to grab some fruits that she identified as goji berries. She started climbing a tree when she heard someone running.

From her point of view, she’s able to see the boy from the 5, chasing Teagan. It makes Ona’s blood boil. She knows it’s the rule of the Games, but Teagan is only twelve and that guy might be seventeen.

Teagan is almost fifty metres ahead of him though, her smaller frame making the run in this dark forest easier. Ona doesn’t hesitate to go down a few metres, positioning herself just at the right place to catch Teagan when he reaches his height. The adrenaline helps her to lift him without problem on the tree where it is.

“Up, up, up!” she whispers-orders him, pushing him to go faster.

Teagan hurries to obey and finally the boy from the 5 passes the tree without seeing them, much to Ona’s relief. The girl sighs of relief, but still makes Teagan go higher on the tree.

When they reach a branch strong enough to support both of their weight, Ona finally makes Teagan sit on it.

“Thank you” Teagan says finally, when he has enough breath to talk again.

“Anytime” Ona answers easily.

She looks at the boy attentively. He has a big wound on his cheek which might be hurtful. But other than that, he seems pretty good.

“Are you okay?” Ona asks anyway.

The boy nods and they exchange some news. They stop talking when they hear the boy from the 5 coming back, apparently looking for Teagan. From that moment they whisper more than talk but Ona manages to learn what happened to Teagan anyway.

He was with the girl from his district when they were attacked by the two tributes from the 5. His teammate made him run and she fought the two others alone. It seems like she killed the girl before being killed herself, at least it’s what Ona and Teagan deduce when they see that both of them are dead.

It makes Teagan sad and Ona comforts him, feeling once again relieved to see that Lucy is still alive. Still like Tony and the other career’s district.

Ona shares a piece of chocolate and some fruits with Teagan, before securing him with her on the branch. They decide to take turns to sleep, Teagan starting because he almost hasn’t slept since the beginning of the Games.

It’s strange for Ona to realise it, but it’s relieving to have someone to look after. Teagan is sweet and she appreciates his company. Her fingers go for Jana’s pendant under her clothes, stroking it softly. Jana was sweet and innocent too. Maybe that’s why she wants to protect Teagan, even if Jana was older than him.

She learned at some point during training that he has a little brother and a little sister.  She can’t imagine his parents’ pain about him being here. Suddenly, Lucy’s point not to have children is a little bit clearer for her. She understands why it might be selfish in her opinion to have children.

Ona then thinks about her parents and her brother, wondering if they are watching the Games or if they are sleeping. She knows there are cameras everywhere on the map, but they can only show one thing at a time.

After the heath from her bedroom in the Capitol and the good meal, she feels cold and a little hungry, even if she ate bread and fruits earlier. But she decides to ignore her angry stomach, to look at the stars over their heads.

They are hidden thanks to the foliage of the tree, but she still can watch it. She remembers the nights when Lucy talks to her about the stars, the constellations and the whispers exchanged between them at this point. Ona could name a lot of constellations now, mentally listing them in her head.

“I miss you… So much.” Ona whispers, hoping that if Lucy survives, she will be able to see that moment.

And, of course, that she understands that those words were for her. Because she misses everything about her, and she misses the possible future they could have had together. But it seems to be really far away now.

Little did she know that Lucy is looking at the same stars, at the same time. Lucy is thinking about the same things, and how much she misses Ona too. But she sadly doesn’t have a choice. It makes her desperate, but she doesn’t have the choice.

Next Chapter

The Map.

[berenwrites]

Better Half - Stranger Things - Steddie - PG

Summary: Henry targets Steve - this is a mistake!

A/N:  This started off as a different fic idea, but that morphed into something too long in my head, so this one took over. I hope you enjoy it. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated, thank you. Don’t forget to check out all the other great fics at @steddiemicrofic too💖.

Written for prompt: NEW | wc: 517 | Rating PG | cw: none

Tags: Steve has powers, pre-steddie, Vecna|Henry|One

Also on AO3 | ( My Other fic on Tumblr)

Better Half

“New experience, Henry? Must be terrifying to find yourself the helpless one. You chose the wrong victim this time.

“Don’t look so shocked, and give up struggling, you can’t win.

“My name’s Seven, we’ve met before. I’m one of the first batch, Brenner’s experiments he dosed with cocktails of drugs. Everyone thinks only Two survived, I made sure. Papa signed my death certificate himself. I was only five, but when your brain explodes with every thought in ten miles, you adapt or die. My mind fractured, became me and Steve. I took everything I learned from every mind and became unstoppable.

“The world is lucky my only purpose is to protect my better half.

“I took him out of the lab, found him parents and made him forget it all. Poor Steve never could understand why they didn’t seem to love him, but I can’t work miracles, only fabricate memories. We hid and he was safe.

“Until you touched him, you were safe too. It was more important not to alert the government than play heroic saviour. I mean I’ve had to make Russians think they hit Steve more than they did, stop Billy Hargrove from killing him, and a few other things, but it’s all been under the radar.

“You made the ultimate mistake coming in here, into our mind. Out there I can read thoughts and memories like books, make people remember whatever I like, mess with their perceptions on a good day.

“In here … in here I’m God.

“Now we’re going to do three things.

“First, you’re going to free Eddie Munson. Bringing him back to use him against us was a good plan, it would have been devastating to the Party, but you’ve missed your chance. Steve has some unresolved feeling for Eddie he needs to work through, and I want him to be happy. Eddie will be good for him. Someone needs to show him he doesn’t have to be strong all the time. Eddie will give him what I can’t.

“Second, you’re going to heal Max. You broke her, so you can put her back together. We’ll put your abilities to a good use for once.

“Then, finally, we’re going to let Eleven find us, and you’re going to put on a good show of fighting her before we give her the victory she deserves.

“It’s going to be glorious, Henry. A final battle from one of Eddie’s campaigns where good triumphs over evil.

“I told you to stop struggling. It’s pointless and annoying. You don’t want to annoy me anymore than you already have. I’m going to let you die a good death, Henry, don’t make me change my mind. Steve has all our goodness, all our kindness, you don’t want to know what I’m capable of when I’m angry.

“Brenner’s lucky he’s already dead. I’ve had years to plan what I wanted to do to him.

“You have amazing abilities, Henry. Using you like a remote is fun. I should have lured you in here ages ago. Ah well hindsight is 20-20. It’s time to finish this now.”

( My Other fic on Tumblr)

[magpie-trove]

Our beloved Cinderella 2015 was in part striking because it possessed moral substance, and I think Snow White 2025 is a counterpart in that! If Cinderella 2015 is about staying good, Snow White 2025 is about *growing* good.

I need very little to convince any one of this, as the very first song is a song called Good Things Grow. What’s interesting is the moral framework it sets up: the flourishing of the land is directly connected to the flourishing of the people’s moral character, which is in turn connected to Snow White’s ability to be a leader by being good and helping both her people and her land grow in goodness. This is not a prosperity gospel set up where if you are good enough you get everything you want, though. It’s human flourishing because everyone being fair and kind means when you are hungry the baker is someone who will give you bread because you are hungry and he’s learned to be kind. The king and queen emphasize to young Snow White that she is destined to lead the land and because of that she must look at herself and decide what she will become for them. She must be brave and true and fair and kind, because such a leader will lead people to be brave and true and fair and kind, and that will mean a society where people will help each other and share the good of the land, and sharing the good will, they insist, ultimately only increase it.

Throughout the narrative the days of Snow White’s parents’ rule is harkened back to as a time of abundance, but that abundance is not just connected to material goods. The “prince” character, Jonathan, remembers it as a time where people were better, not just because they had good things, but because her parents weren’t afraid of anything—they always did the good thing—and the good thing made other people able to do the good thing, and a society where everyone is striving to do the good thing is going to be a good one. But again, this is not a prosperity gospel. The good thing isn’t something that will last forever.

Snow White’s parents die. Her mother falls to illness. Her father is duped by the Queen. The Queen then offers what she insists everyone needs—something more stable, something secure, something like diamonds compared to a flower. This is something that can’t die because it is something that possesses itself and fights to keep what good things it has instead of giving them away. Notably, for the Queen, it is about good *things*, not good people. Not goodness ultimately. And more notably, it leaves everything cold and hard and dead. The kingdom doesn’t flourish. It decays. There is scarcity, and it’s because no one will remedy it by sharing what they have.

Snow White is now faced with the dilemma of growing into what she should be in an atmosphere of moral decay and corruption. It’s a difficult struggle, and actually her primary one throughout the film. She has an ideal, she has strong guiding principles, but she has to find the strength of character to make them real in a world that presupposes that they are unrealistic. In fact, the Queen has created a kingdom convinced it needs an army to be safe because they have forgotten what it was like simply to look out for each other. They believe in a world where one simply has to look out for oneself, even at the expense of others, because no one else will.

Jonathan epitomizes this most clearly. His is what he believes is a practical philosophy: you look out for yourself so you don’t end up dead. You morally compromise in order to survive. He has a whole song where he makes fun of Snow White’s “Princess problems”—which comes from ideals he says the rest of the people can’t afford to have if they are going to survive. Living by ideals only means, he says, you won’t live long. They are unsuited to the reality of the world, which is that things aren’t fair. Snow White counters this by suggesting that if no one acts fairly, then of course things won’t be fair. Someone has to take the risk of being fair and merciful and kind first, to show others the way.

This philosophical clash comes to a head in a conversation between Jonathan’s band of thieves and the dwarves. Jonathan needs help, and the dwarves don’t want to help them because it will only bring trouble, and the thieves don’t trust them to help anyways. Snow White has to step in and she berates them both, saying this selfishness based on mistrust is exactly how the Queen wins. By getting them to act in kindness despite the risk, to hope for kindness just enough to actually be able to receive it, she sets in motion the goodness that will save her and the kingdom in the end.

Because Snow White will still need saving. Jonathan is not entirely wrong to fear doing the right thing will get him killed. He says Snow White’s idealism and trust in people will only mean she winds up dead, and she does! It is an unpractical philosophy in material terms. And yet it is the only one worth believing, and the only thing that in the end, saves her when death does arrive. Her idealism has a cost, but it also is the way to mitigate the cost. Her goodness to others means others will be good to her—it comes back around and she both pays the cost and is saved from it. Love exists to save her because she planted it and helped it grow!

And that means she can help it grow in herself enough to lead. Not being alone gives her strength to make the hard choices, to become someone who not just believes in courage and fairness and kindness but can bring them into the world and share them with others by embodying them herself. And what’s so unique about the climax here is that the Queen isn’t defeated through ordinary power. She loses because in the end her practical stability built on practical mistrust and fear, which is really just self obsession, turns out not to be so strong and stable after all. She crumbles in the face of Snow White, who instead of looking out for herself, looks at other people. She remembers their names. She calls them back to the goodness inherent in their potential, and so back into themselves, who they really are meant to be! And the remembering of real goodness starts to create a desire for it, and the desire leads them to act in such a way it can become a reality. The kingdom flourishes again when the people flourish as people, not as a reward but as an outcome, because love means looking out for each other, and while it doesn’t mean no hardships will come, it does mean that when the hardships arrive, even if the hardship be death itself, they will be survivable. On the surface it seems unrealistic—but in actuality, the film says, kindness, fairness, love, are the only truly practical way to live.

[guacemolyarts]

please please tell me how u perceive ellabs 😭😭😭 from a shipping standpoint😭😭 also i love ur art so much

Abby has always been number one. From being Jerrys daughter, to becoming the WLFs top Scar killer, to leading her entire friend group into a murder plot with her, etc. Abby has always been the one to take the lead and do whatever she wants by her own command because she has never not gotten what she’s wanted. When that attitude got the best of her in the end (her friends turning on her, realizing what they had participated in was fucked up, etc.) she became prideful and cowardly. Lev was able to reinvent that attitude with her by giving her a purpose to protect and love someone more than herself. Lev let her have a break for once, gave her a chance to have her guard down, and not always have to feel stoic. She stood up to the only person who could crumble her *just* a bit (Isaac) and Ellie, who unknowingly had been leading her down a death trap. Even when figuring that out, Abby never backed down, Abby still got the upper hand, Abby still had what Ellie wanted- someone to care about her and her life.

Now Ellie on the other hand? Ellie has NEVER had it easy. Grew up an orphan, was a bit of a loner without Riley, was regarded as a “sad kid” by Winston, the only adult who ever really gave her the time of day. This girl has been searching for love and support her entire life. Despite her bratty attitude and hotheaded tendencies, no matter what, shes always a softie. And when she gets fixated on anything, it becomes her purpose and the force that pushes through whatever situation shes in- on a lighter note, Savage Starlight quotes, on a darker note, Abby. Ellie finds strength in just *doing*. She doesn’t need to force anyone to abide by her order (unless you wanna argue Nora, but even then, what a sloppy attempt at getting her way). She steam rolls any situation she thinks is gonna get her to her goal (jumping off the bridge into the water with Joel, the entirety of Seattle Day 2 and 3, becoming a deadbeat).

And together? You get two women who come from remarkably different upbringing’s and backgrounds, who in the end, crave to care for and to be cared about. Abby who has the explicit need to put herself in any dangerous position, knowing she can get out of it unscathed, with the entire goal of making sure what she cares about makes it through safely. Ellie, who has only ever fought through survival, to not have to do it anymore. Who can just feel protected and at peace. Abby, who is meticulous in her planning and execution, Ellie, rough around the edges and will figure it out when she gets there.

Despite how opposite they are in those regards, they are similar in their unifying need to find inner peace and strive to do their best. Both of them are incredibly strong people- and together, in any dynamic and in any situation they must get through together, I perceive Abby to be the one who is more level-headed, less inclined to blindly walk into Ellies fire, and to take the reigns in any struggle they get themselves in. To guide Ellie down the smarter, albeit longer path, and for Ellie to complain and annoy her to every end because she thinks being safer is worse than being in a rush. Ellie, the tough, agile little moth who learned everything on her own and by Joels hand, who can cut through 7 men at a time and is quick on her fight or flight. Abby, the trained in combat ex-soldier who can wipe out any path she needs to get through just by one intimidating scowl.

This is an interpretation based on canon, i could talk in circled about them for hours. So heres a little tidbit of what i perceive them as as individuals but how those traits work together.

[thebisexualmandalorian]

Viago knew this would happen, deep down.  He’d failed his little sister, letting her fall for a Dellamorte.  They’re cursed, the younger Crows like to say, the small but powerful House that eats alive anyone who steps inside.  Lucanis and Illario were the last surviving of the original bloodline as far as anyone outside the House knows, though he wouldn’t put it past Caterina to have a Song up her silken sleeve.  

And now here they are, with Lucanis dead, his body lying in repose in the Manor, and Elena having cried herself into a fitful sleep while he and Teia keep watch.  He doesn’t believe his little sister is suicidal - Maker, he prays not - but she is rash and impulsive, and he doesn’t trust her not to go chasing rumors to hunt down the Venatori, or worse, go to the Ossuary herself to take on Lucanis’ final contract.

He looks to Teia, who’s stroking Elena’s hair while she sleeps, humming softly.  “We need to do something, before she-”

“What will you do, Vi?  Keep her locked up here?” she asks, her gaze steady.  Lucanis was their friend, but they’re Crows.  They know above anyone else that death is both sudden and unkind.  He just wishes Elena hadn’t had to learn that lesson like this.  

“No, you know I can’t.”  A selfish, human part of him wishes he could.  That he had, that he’d kept her far from House Dellamorte and their curse.  “Just for a few days, till she calms down.”

Teia sighs.  Elena doesn’t stir.  She looks so hopelessly young like this, and his chest goes tight.  “She’ll be alright.  She’s stronger than you think.”  He wishes she didn’t have to be. Damn Lucanis and his charm.  Hadn’t he known?  Hadn’t he thought about this?  What it would do to Elena if he didn’t come home?  Viago forces down the hot spike of anger.  There’s no point in it.

“She’s strong,” he agrees, “But she’s reckless.”

“So were you.”

“I had someone to return home for,” he says, because he knows that as much as Elena loves him, she won’t stay alive for him.  It’s not the nature of their relationship, and he knows too that part of that is his fault.  Even now, he doesn’t know how to comfort her, only how to keep her alive.  He loves her deeply, but showing that love… he was never good at that.  He always kept her at arm’s length, all through their youth, and even now that they’re adults.  It’s his nature, to hide his love, to keep it secret and safe, where it can’t be used against him.  Elena had never been that way, she wore her love proudly, loved deeply and fiercely, and now, all he can do is plead with the Maker that it won’t be the death of her.