#wind becomes lightning

[qettleqorn]

tagged by @wind-becomes-lightning

RULES: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.

Since I kinda wrote this here and there and don't recall what I wrote last from it!

"Maybe in another life we'll get another chance, maybe it's like a comet that you only see once in your life. It doesn't really matter to me because right now in this moment. I'm with you."

I tag you, yes, you, unsuspecting reader! <3 Anyways have fun! Enjoy!

[akamikazae]

K & S <3

thank you for the ask<333 Answering these out of order just in incase u wanna avoid the angsty answer 

S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

-Oohhh I love a one bed trope—either platonically or romantically (but I ike both those set ups to be a bit different tho) -hurt/comfort  <333 bc I live for angst  -I love an enemies to friends to lovers. Just adore watching two people’s relationships grow and change thorough years, slowly coming to see eye to eye, forming an unbreakable bond and falling in love. But theres always that teasing nagging way they pick on each other present —So also love a slow burn !   -Also have recently been very into historical aus! Its so much fun to research and the possibilities and different periods are endless! 

K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

Oh god there are so many to pick from, published and unpublished. I loveeee angst, and making myself cry ahah  Most recently I’ve been working on something w my oc—not sure if it’ll make it in the long fic or not but its about how she deals with the concept of motherhood and failures and the lingering loss of war/shinobi life. 

Putting it under the cut just in case tw pregnancy, miscarriage/still birth?, Death, grief  

Akami sustained a pretty severe injury in the field as a teen (Danzo’s failed assassination attempt) she managed to drag herself home, but was forced to very poorly patch the wound herself with fire and ice. As a result was told she couldn’t have kids—she was young at the time and so focused on Anbu it never bothered her.  Sasuke changes things, and after 4 years of domestic bliss miraculously she finds herself pregnant—she has lots of conflicting feelings about it, considering both sasuke/kakashi’s thoughts and making them worse in her mind. Akami's relationship with her own mother had always been strained--feeling unloved and unwanted by Umiko.  They eventually decide to go for it—though she makes it rather far along, it doesn’t last due to her old injury. It nearly kills her.  So does the loss, not only because of the death but because of her self-perceived failures and inability to create life. She feels more like a monster than ever, because all she’ll ever be good for is death and decay. She feels rotten from the inside out.  It strains her relationship with both Kakashi and Sasuke, not because of the loss but because of her anger, shutting down and shutting them out.  

If you made it this far sorry ik it's a lot haha😅I have a lot written for it, idk how it happened sort of just spiraled from me one day—I feel like it might be too much, so not sure if it’ll ever make it to the long fic, but I find myself thinking about it often, and adding more to it often—probably b/c of my own confusing thoughts on motherhood. 

[kankuroplease]

Yuuta’s intrusive thoughts winning

Thank you, Nisi! I’m pleasantly surprised you took what I said and turned out this sweet piece so quickly 🥰

Day 18: @kankuroplease's Yuuta

(prev day)

[jsabheadcanons]

The four player shapes are each associated with one of the seasons.

P1 - Winter

P2 - Summer

P3 - Spring

P4 - Autumn

.

[t4tdanvis]

me making my 3847573948575839554th au

[darlingsblackbook]

Zayne × Nurse!Reader - Part Six

The breaking point

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five

Love & Deepspace Masterlist

I | I was already tired, not just the kind of tired after a long shift, but the kind that’s been weighing down on your chest for weeks. The kind you try to ignore by staying busy.

II | I had a stack of paperwork in my arms, folders that needed filing, numbers- just, paperwork. It was not my favourite task to do, but gave me something to do. Something that I could distract myself with.

III | I walk behind the cardiology reception desk with my eyes low, just to pick up the rest of the papers I need to continue. Pretending I do not hear the familiar whispering tones that always seemed to settle when I was nearby. I’ve gotten good at pretending. I pretend a lot lately.

IV | “She’s acting weird,” one of them said. Her voice had that hushed excitement people use when talking about someone just out of earshot. "Don't you think?”

V | "Acting?” The other voice followed like venom wrapped in silk. “She’s always been weird. You remember how she used to stutter around Doctor Zayne? Now suddenly she’s pretending he doesn’t exist? Please.”

VI | I gripped the folders tighter, like holding onto them would anchor me to something solid. My cheeks burned. I knew people noticed, but I didn’t think… I didn’t think it had gotten this bad.

VII | “Maybe she figured out he’s way out of her league,” The same voice said, not even trying to lower her voice anymore. “Smart girl, even if it took her long enough.”

VIII | I didn’t look at them, just took what I needed and left to continue with my work. Or I tried to, but one of them- the one with the snake venom voice, stepped just slightly into my path. Her shoulder knocking into mine, sending every single piece of paper flying out of my arms like leaves caught in wind.

IX | The sound of paper hitting the floor echoed down the hall. My stomach dropped along with it.

X | “Oops,” She said, far too sweet.“You alright? You’re almost shaking. It can't be because of nerves, though. I mean, Doctor Zayne isn’t even around right now."

XI | I just stared at her. For the first time, not with fear. Not even with sadness. Just... disbelief. “What did you say?”

XII | Before she could open her mouth again, another voice cut through - calm, cold, and unmistakably unimpressed. "That is enough."

XIII | I felt a shock, like a lightning bolt struck me, at the sound of that voice. Zayne... I could hear his footsteps as he approached, yet did not dare to turn to face him. He wasn’t rushing at all, but something in his aura made the air shift. The same way it does right before a thunderstorm.

XIV | The nurse paled. “Doctor Zayne- I was just-"

“If I were in your place, I'd be very careful about my next words” Zayne interrupted, his eyes hard. “Do you even get any work done, or do you just sit around and whisper to each other all day?”

XV | She stumbled for a response, but he did not give her a chance to come up with any excuse. "Pick the papers up."

XVI | She blinked, as if she could not believe what she was hearing. How he was talking to her. Ironic, seeing how she had been talking to me. It's not funny anymore when you become the target. "D-doctor Za-"

XVII | "Did you not hear what I said? Pick. Them. Up." Zayne demanded, voice just as cold as the evol he wielded.

XVIII | Everyone was quiet. The kind of silence that buzzes behind your ears. She bent down with shaking hands, gathering papers like her life - or job - depended on it. Maybe, in that moment, it did. When she had gathered them all, she stood up but kept her head down, avoiding everyone's gaze. Then, she tried to hand the papers over to Zayne.

XIX | His eyes didn’t even flicker toward her. “Not to me,” he said, then nodded his head my way. “Her.”

She turned toward me like I was a executioner. She shoved them into my arms with a scowl but I could see her hands trembling.

XX | “Now apologize,” Zayne said, voice still flat. “Like a professional. Not like a child forced to say ‘sorry’ at recess.”

XXI | Again, the bitch started blinking as if they were as dry as a desert. “Doctor Zayne-”

XXII | “Apologize,” Zayne snapped. “Or you will not have a place in this team anymore.”

XXIII | The silence turned deadly. Her mouth twitched. Then, finally, through gritted teeth, she forced out, “I’m sorry.”

XXIV | “For what?” Zayne pushed for more.

XXV | Her eye actually twitched at that. “For- knocking into you. And being… unprofessional.”

XXVI | “There we go,” Zayne said, in a mocking tone as if he was speaking to a child. “Now go back to your desk and do your actual job instead of treating this hospital like a playground.”

XXVII | At that, she fled. And just like that, I was left alone with him.

XXVIII | Zayne looked at me. And the ice in his face shifted, melted. The voice I adored so much lowered. “Are you alright?”

XXIX | I turned and ran. Bolted down the hall, because at that question, with that tone- coming from him - something in me had snapped loose. I couldn’t let him see it, the tears, the pain, the way his concern gutted me wide open - the shame. All kinds of things raced through my mind, but there was one dominant thought- He had heard what she said.

XXX | I flung the stairwell door open and collapsed on the cold steps, pressing my palms to my face. I didn’t want him to follow, but I knew he would.

I felt it the door open. That sudden shift of air pressure. The soft click of a handle that carried more weight than any shout ever could. His footsteps were not rushed, they were decisive. Heavy with something that made my breath catch.

I didn’t lift my head. I couldn’t. I stayed seated on the second step from the bottom, but wrapped my arms around my knees like that could hold me together.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Zayne said. His voice was low again, no ice.

I shook my head, to disagree and because I didn’t know what to say. Because my throat was too tight to let anything out. He thought I ran away because he scared me?

He didn’t sit next to me, not at first. He stayed a few steps above me, towering, but at a respectful distance. Like he knew I was splintering and didn’t want to push.

“This isn’t the first time, is it?” Zayne asked. “The way she treated you. The way she talked. She's probably not the only one either, is she?"

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

“It’s been going on for a while,” Zayne answered his own question. “And I did not see it."

I finally looked up at him. My vision was blurry, lashes wet, and cheeks flushed from the pressure in my chest. “It’s not your fault.”

Zayne flinched. Literally. Like I had hit him.

"You didn’t know,” I whispered. “How could you? You’re not… you’re not supposed to know everything happening in every hallway.”

“But I should’ve seen you,” he said. “You pulled away. You barely even looked at me the last few weeks. I noticed, and I still didn’t-”

“Because I had to,” I interrupted. My voice cracked. “Do you know what they were saying about me, Doctor Zayne?”

He didn’t answer, because he couldn't.

“They said that I was throwing myself at you. That I didn’t deserve to be here, that I was just some pathetic little nurse with a crush who thought smiling at a doctor meant I had a future.”

I saw the way his face twisted, something between rage and heartbreak. It hurt to see that expression on his face, it made me want to scream.

“So, I kept my distance, I stopped speaking unless I had to. I became so fucking small just so I had no way of giving them something to talk about anymore.” I said, my voice breaking.

“They don’t get to talk about you like that,” Zayne said, after a moment silence. “They don’t get to decide your worth. And I don’t give a damn if you were smiling at me or the walls. You earned your place in this department. Every day.".

My eyes welled up again. “You really didn’t know?”

“No,” he said, firmly. “And I hate myself for that. I saw something was off with you but I thought something might've happend in private and I did not want to intrude- I still should’ve asked. I just wanted to give you space- time- to come back to yourself again-"

Zayne took a step closer, slow not pushing. "I sincerely apologize, I can't take back what happened to you but I can make sure that you'll never have to experience anything like this ever again."

AND THEY LIVED A HAPPILY EVER AFTER. Yo, I am no good in romantic scenes, I can't help but cringe at every sentence- angst is my speciality- BUT I tried my best okay. 😗🙂‍↕️ I finished this while listening to gummy bear and ppap to keep myself awake lmao.

Taglist : @sylusgirlie7 @jeonjenny @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @draftbeerbibi @weebinator01 @satorustorm @asilaydead @ninaandtuna @gremlinartstudio @keyiswatching @dreamlesssleepsaga @eurynam @amerti @neobitch127 @m30wk1ttycat @yuurisfavblog @dysphxriaii @zainaaryam @floofycookie @beesin03 @thatpersonnamedrook @chiikasevennn @ollie-the-fae @dramaticalsachan @babylilxc @minsified @destinysrequiem @xsammijoanneex @hirostrvw @pepperushia @starllight613 @seris-the-amious @moonlight-inthe-sea @luvvhue @gojosballsack69 @ellarchives @xinnn6 @marmandarina @kithyyy @aixyraus @marmandarina @goomimii @evadnesworld @reirakurenai @estiesbestiesworld @albenyx @asgwendollie @avis-writeshq @sohhzzy @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @bitchynightmarepost @treeteaofversailles @mwritin6s @happygalaxymilkshake @dprweganggang03 @nommingonfood @cadesthings @insidious-innocence @sharieb @pinksaiyans @needvbunni @gawa-ng-gabi @craic-on-a-cracker @canthavetoomuchchaos @neobitch127 @edens-melodies @sanzy4 @betsybetts @animegamerfox @lemonn015 @astudyoftimeywimeystuff @sunnyilis @safeinyourheart @bluelilyofthevalley @vintag3u @jlynns-posts @69-gojos-wife-69 @burn-it-all-for-your-love @whimsicalcup @blitziwitch @roschea-arts @seung185 @lalaluch @jadeymeciela @everywherestrs @mrwind-upbird

[kankuroplease]

Thank you, Nisi! ☺️

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @kankuroplease / @xxcinnaxx!!! Thank you for always being such a great and supportive friend in the last year <3 I hope you have a fantastic day with all the fictional husbands fawning over you as they should! Thank you for all your amazing art. I really wish we could all hang out just like this, but for now this has to be enough.

Kisses go out to the "oh my god really a bnha au" groupchat, my favourite place on this planet together with the "haikyuu au rambles" groupchat LOL) @qettleqorn @foolishk @lemony-snickers. Let's continue to spin love an drama for many many more months and years!

[22ayla21]

Hello!, lately I have been obsessed with your Malleus as a father, it like literally just warms up my heart. Could I request something similar to one of your fics with him where reader has complications with childbirth?. You know as reader is barely coping with the whole dragon thing in her body. I'm dying for angst and at the same time fluff :3 (You can choose if it's either their first born or second or third it's doesn't matter)

My Light Through the Storm

When you carry a dragon's child beneath your heart, childbirth is even harder than for ordinary people.

The thunder in the Briar Valley didn't portend bad weather. It portended birth. Legends said that dragons, purebloods and half-bloods alike, didn't come into the world quietly. Their arrival was an event that nature itself felt. The sky shook, the earth trembled, and magic sang and groaned at once.

You lay on the birthing bed, surrounded by healers, exhausted, weary, gripping the sheets in your fists as if trying to hold onto life itself. Your belly twitched convulsively – another contraction. Your lips bled from biting them so hard. Your hands trembled, your body wouldn't obey, and even breathing was difficult.

"She won't make it…" the healers whispered, averting their eyes. "Her body… it's not adapted…"

Outside, a storm raged – not a magical one, a real one. Or was it? Who could say when it came to the Draconia bloodline? Every time you screamed, lightning flashed in the sky, the wind howled as if with you. The healers quelled the trembling in the walls with spells, closed the shutters, but the air still vibrated.

In the next room, Malleus stood as if carved from stone. He heard everything. Every one of your screams. Every drop of pain. He felt his own child crying through your suffering – not yet born, but already wild and full of power.

"Your Majesty," the elder healer pleaded, "you cannot be in the chamber. Your presence, your magic… it could destabilize…"

Malleus looked up at him. Dragon eyes. Without anger. Without a shout. But there was will in them.

"She is my queen. The mother of my child. I will not leave."

He entered the room, and the air immediately changed. Waves of magic gently touched the walls, like a tender shadow. The storm outside quieted, as if nature itself bowed before his steps.

You lifted your head. Your eyes were hazy with pain, but you felt him. His magic. His strength. His hand that took yours, cold and trembling.

"Malle…" you barely exhaled.

"I am here," he whispered. "You are not alone."

He felt the child within you beating, breathing, as if wanting to break free – and at the same time, as if afraid. His magic enveloped your belly, gently, like a mother's breath over her infant. He sang in an ancient tongue, known only to the Draconia bloodline. He whispered promises:

"We are here. We await you. But do not destroy the one who gave you life."

And the child… heard.

For the first time in hours of contractions, you felt relief. The pain hadn't gone, but it had subsided, becoming tolerable. Your heart beat in unison with his voice. You squeezed his hand until it hurt, but he didn't look away.

"You're doing it," he told you. "Better than anyone before you. You are stronger than you think."

You wept. Tears streamed down your cheeks, but now not only from pain. From his presence. Because you were alive.

And when the final push began, when screams once again tore through the silence, Malleus stood beside you, not as a king, but as a husband. He held you as you pushed, held you as you screamed, and held you as your body, broken, gave its last strength to bring a son into this world.

And then he was born.

A flash of lightning illuminated the sky. The windows in the castle rattled, but none shattered. In the birthing chamber, a cry rang out – strong, fierce, alive. The horned infant cried as if announcing his arrival to the whole world.

You, gasping for breath, tried to raise yourself. The healers were already bustling, the infant taken away to be cleaned, wrapped… but Malleus remained with you. He wiped the sweat from your brow, held you close, kissed your hair.

"You did it…" he whispered, his voice breaking. "You… my strength."

"I… almost died…" you gasped.

"But you didn't die. You survived. And you gave me the greatest miracle in this world."

Then the healer returned to you. In his arms, he held the tiny one, who was already wiggling his minuscule tail.

"He is… strong," the healer stated. "And healthy. Perfectly healthy. And so are you, Your Majesty."

Malleus took him into his arms, for the first time – not as a dragon, not as a king – but as a father.

"Here you are," he whispered softly to the infant. "Next to your mother, who gave you life."

You lay exhausted, but when he leaned down so you could see your son, your eyes filled with tears. A tiny, strong creature, whose horns were barely emerging, a tail that twitched slightly… and his eyes. Green. Exactly like his father's.

"He… he's like you," you breathed.

"And like you," Malleus replied. "Because only you could have carried one like him."

He sat beside you, holding both of you close. The healers retreated, leaving the family in a silence filled with the breath of love, exhaustion, and life.

Outside, the raging storm had finally quieted. In its place, a light rain began to fall, glistening on the leaves as if nature itself wept with joy.

Malleus kissed your forehead.

"You are my queen. Mother of a dragon. And the light through my storm."

[moonstruckme]

what about blanket fort : “here, you can sleep in my shirt”, a rainy night and Remus? With some fluffy comfort? 🫶🫶🫶

Ty <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 902 words

Remus knows he ought to be letting you dry yourself off. Ordinarily he would, but in bringing you the towel he somehow found himself winding it around your shoulders, and once he starts doing it for you it becomes nearly impossible to resist. 

“Why would you come out in this?” he mutters, half to you and half to whatever ingenious, deranged divinity made you this way. 

“I thought you liked my banana bread.” You seem mostly amenable to his coddling, though you gave Remus a strange look when he first bypassed your hands to squeeze the ends of your hair out himself. You tilt your cheek into his hand as he rubs the towel over your neck. 

“I do like your banana bread. I don’t like you giving yourself hypothermia to bring it to me.” 

“You’re so dramatic.” This is a characteristic you’ve assigned to him. You haven’t been seeing each other long enough to have met Remus’ friends, but he knows when you do meet them (on that inevitable date when he can no longer manage to keep you squirrelled away for himself) they are going to laugh and laugh at this. “It’s just a bit of rain,” you say. “The bread’s never as good as on the first day.” 

This is true. Remus really is embarrassingly excited to have a piece—he’s already fantasizing about the softness of it, the way the chocolate chips you add in melt in his mouth and stick to his palate—but he does wish you at least grabbed an umbrella in your mad dash to deliver it to him. 

Your head and shoulders are thoroughly dried now, and with no more excuse of touching you anywhere unscandalous Remus hands the towel off to you. “I can't have you walking back in this,” he says. 

You scoff. “Oh, it’s not that bad.” 

A flash of lightning precurses a powerful cracking sound, loud enough to rattle the windows. Remus levels you with a look. 

You wince. “I didn’t bring anything for the night, though.” 

His stern look dissolves under a smile. “That’s alright, love. Come on.” 

You’re familiar with Remus’ home. You haven’t stayed over before, but you know your way around, where he keeps his linens, his clothes. You watch with interest, his towel wrapped around you, as he goes to a drawer you’ve not seen before. 

Your laughter is loud and bright when you see what comes out. “Is that yours?” 

“It was a gift,” he qualifies. The shirt he’s holding up has two arrows. One, pointing up, indicates The Man, while the one pointing down alludes to The Legend. James thought it would be a fun gift to have Remus open in front of the Potters at Christmas. “I don’t think he thought I’d actually wear it.” 

You’re biting your lip to contain your smile. The sight makes Remus’ stomach riot. “No,” you agree, “it doesn’t seem like something you’d wear.” 

“Here.” He tosses the shirt to you. “You can sleep in this.” 

As he predicted, your amusement at this proposal makes you forget any notions you had about trying to get home. “I get to be the legend?” you ask eagerly. 

Well, really, you get to have the legend, but Remus doesn’t feel like correcting you. “Sure.” He goes to leave, but you don’t move, only looking at him delightedly until he takes you by the shoulders and you understand that he’s trying to move past you. You really are adorable. “Do you need anything?” 

“Oh, I think I’ve got everything I need right here.” You grin, brandishing the shirt. “Just a minute.” 

He waits outside his bedroom door while you change. Or, that’s what he plans to do, but the first wet sounds of your clothes hitting the floor are enough to ignite Remus’ blush and they drive him into the kitchen to make tea instead. He unwraps your banana bread, cutting off a slice for each of you and setting them on plates. By the time he’s succeeded in forgetting that you’re undressing in his bedroom you’re back, and that’s another shock. 

Aside from knowing you’d find it funny, he picked this shirt because it was big. Remus doesn’t have an abundance of t-shirts, but he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to make you traipse around in nearly nothing for his entertainment. What he didn’t consider was that seeing something this big on you might be just as problematic. You’re darling. The shoulder seams hang halfway down your biceps, your skin is still shining prettily with rainwater, and worst of all you’re smiling like the cat that got the cream with an arrow that says The Man pointing up at you. 

“You totally wear this,” you say, grinning. “It smells like you.” 

And oh, god—if that isn’t enough to send his heart into a tizzy. “Does it?” 

“Mhm.” 

“And what do I smell like?” 

You shrug, as if Remus can’t see the flicker of bashfulness in your gaze. “Like you,” you hedge. “The point is that you wear it.” 

“It’s soft,” he admits. 

Your grin widens. “Am I wearing your favorite pajama shirt?” 

He sighs, but some of the reluctance is for show. Remus only loves to see you excited. “Yes, you are.” 

“I love it,” you say, pushing up onto your toes to kiss his cheek. “I love being the legend.” 

Remus snorts, and you laugh. “What?” 

[willowrunes]

This thing (Images range between the years 1999 and 2005)

whats the oldest oc you recall making

c'mon tell me

[qettleqorn]

Dash Game | Tagged By; @wind-becomes-lightning I totally didn't forget to this. Nah, not at all.

Name: Qettle or Q

Pronouns: They / He / She

Where do you call home: Don't know haven't found it- so I guess where ever I am.

Favorite animal: Dogs? Deer? I don't really have a favorite.

Cereal of choice: Fruity pebbles

Are you a visual, audio, or kinesthetic learner: I suppose it depends on the subject? I don't really have a set way of learning since I get bored easily.

First pet: Oh lord, like my actual first pet? That would have to probably either the goldfish or the three legged geko. Both had terrible ends. Goldfish passed because of my uncle. Geko was taken by my moms roommate. I was heartbroken over them both.

Favorite scent: You'll probably laugh at me but my favorite scents are. - Oil/Gas - Fresh Cut Grass - Oranges & Sea Salt

Do you believe in astrology: No. But I look at it like an accessory. It's a cute little hatpin in the hat of life!

How many playlists do you have on Spotify/apple music: 50 and counting. I lost access to my old Spotify account so I probably have more.

Sharpies or highlighters: Uh, shit, highlighters I suppose.

A song that makes you cry: Don't Forget by Toby Fox

It's from the game Deltarune but I listened to it non-stop after my dog passed. It makes me think of her every time I listen to it.

A song that makes you happy you really like: What You Need by Megan Nicole Dong

From the Netflix series Centaurworld. I just really like it, hits that little part of me that reminds me to take stuff as it comes.

And finally, do you write/draw/create: I do draw and write on the occasion. I actually want to get back into clay creation. But mainly I want to actually write and draw more often again.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Poison of the Spotlight

Pairing: Security Guard!Bucky x Actress!Reader

Summary: Paparazzi have always been the part you hated about fame, but Bucky is there to shield you from the noise.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Paparazzi; media harassment; sensory overload; anxiety; themes of fame; public scrutiny; loss of privacy; protective Bucky

Author’s Note: As an actress myself, this was so interesting to explore. Thank you so much for the request, my love!! I hope you'll enjoy ♡

2k Drabble Challenge Masterlist | Masterlist

You’re not sure when the crowd doubled in size but the second the venue doors open, it feels like the damn has broken.

Flashes go off like lightning, rapid-fire questions are hurled from all directions, voices overlapping.

You hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected the sound of your own name to be swallowed by a hundred voices, spat back out like chewed gum, mangled and glittering and meaningless. You hadn’t expected the bodies to press this close, to squeeze the air out of your lungs with their questions, their cameras, their hunger.

You are smiling because you’re supposed to. Because the dress is perfect and the makeup is flawless and your publicist said just thirty seconds of poses, baby, that’s all they need.

But it’s louder than you thought it’d be.

Hotter, brighter, closer than it should be.

A voice - a thousand voices - explode around you and you can’t tell where they’re coming from. You flinch as someone steps too close, as someone shoves another forward to get the best angle.

But he is here.

“Back up!” Bucky’s voice is suddenly louder than anything else. Firm and sharp. His arm is at your back and you feel the warmth of his hand at your shoulder blades.

A flash pops too close. A mic nearly clips your cheek.

“Hey, back up” Bucky snaps again, voice inpatient.

His hand winds around your waist, his body moving in calculated lines, his face stony and jaw tense.

He maneuvers you expertly, weaving you through the growing knot of bodies with one goal in mind: get you out.

He moves like a storm and a wall and a prayer all at once. He says your name but not like them. Not like a transaction.

You’ve only had him as your bodyguard for a few months now, but somehow, he’s managed to become the only thing in your life that makes sense when the noise gets too loud.

He doesn’t talk much. Doesn’t ask for selfies. Doesn’t try to be your friend in the way most people do.

He just shifted in front of you without a word when you flinched at the flash of a camera the very first day. He noticed the way your hands shook after a press junket and handed you water before you asked. He called you by your name, not your character, not the headline version of you.

“Keep moving, sweetheart,” he now says quietly, calmly. As if he’s not being crushed by a wave of shouting strangers. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

You’re walking but you’re not walking - you’re being guided, steered, protected - his body forming a shield against the frenzied press of paparazzi. He’s bigger than you remember. Broader. He plants himself in front of you when the flashes come too fast. He catches your elbow instantly when you wobble in your heels, and you think he might actually tear someone apart if they touch you again.

You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat hammering under your skin.

You wonder if he hears the way your breath hitches in your chest.

“I’ve got you,” he repeats, close to your ear.

You press into his side without thinking, head ducked as he leads you through the mess as though he’s cutting through a warzone.

He’s saying things - short, clipped words to security, to crowd control, to the driver - and then suddenly, miraculously, there’s the car. The door swings open like salvation and Bucky helps you inside, tucking you in with careful hands.

You take a deep breath as if you’ve just broken the surface of the ocean.

Bucky slides in beside you and pulls the door shut. The windows tint. The voices vanish. You feel your heart crashing in your chest, blood singing in your ears, your throat tight and dry and useless.

You’ve always hated this part.

Not the acting. Not the scripts. Not the lights on set or the long rehearsals or the hours spent curled up in a trailer memorizing lines. No. You love that part.

You love disappearing into someone else.

But the moment the cameras turn on you - when it’s your name and your face and your body they want - everything inside you clenches.

Paparazzi have always been the prize of admission. And you’ve never stopped resenting it. They’re everywhere. Always everywhere.

Outside the airport. Outside your home. Outside your life. Their lenses are long-range weapons and their questions are landmines. You can’t move without being watched. Judged. Picked apart as if you’re a crime scene.

It’s not glamorous. It’s not fun. It’s not part of the job like they always say it is.

It’s invasive. Intrusive. Violent, in a way no one talks about.

Bucky is looking at you.

“Hey,” he says, so soft you nearly miss it. “You okay, doll?”

His voice is honey and gravel and everything safe. His brow is furrowed, the lines around his mouth carved deep with concern. He looks as if he’s ready to go back out there and dismantle the crowd with his bare hands.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer in an exhale. “That was just-”

“Too much,” he finishes for you.

You nod. Or maybe you don’t. You’re not sure. You feel out of place for a second.

“I should’ve stayed closer,” he says, jaw tight, voice firm and guilty. “I usually- damn it- I didn’t like the layout tonight. Too many press zones. Too many exits. I should’ve pulled you sooner.”

You shake your head at him, almost confused. “You were perfect Bucky.”

He stills.

You see the glimmer of something behind his eyes, something quiet and careful and maybe a little touched, like he’s not used to being told that. As if he doesn’t know how to believe it.

“I brought your water,” he says, as if needing to change the subject. His voice is rough. “And the bar you like. The one with the chocolate and honey.”

He reaches for the cooler under the seat as if he’s done it a thousand times, as if he knew you wouldn’t have time to eat, as if he made a checklist in his mind and checked it twice before the night began.

You take it from him. “You didn’t have to, Bucky,” you say, voice a little weaker than you’d want. But it sounds thankful.

Bucky exhales. “Nah, I did,” he counters easily.

He nods for you to go ahead and drink, as if he doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but you see the way his fingers twitch, the way his shoulders don’t relax until you’ve taken a sip, taken a breath, looked at him as though you really are okay.

And you are. Because of him.

Because you’ve spent so long trying to armor yourself against a world that wants to consume you.

And then this man - this silent, serious, steel-spined man - walked into your life and made it his mission to be there for you. To make those situations as comfortable as they can get.

And maybe you fall a little in those moments.

Maybe you’re still falling now.

“I’m getting you something,” you say suddenly.

He blinks over at you, startled. “What?”

You turn toward him, straightening your back in your seat. “You’re always saving me. Protecting me. I need to thank you properly.”

Bucky’s ears go red almost immediately.

He shakes his head, gruff and sheepish all at once. “Nah, doll. You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you counter fiercely. Fiercely enough that he genuinely looks a little shocked. “You’re the only reason I don’t lose my mind at these things.”

You see the way he swallows, the way he starts to shake his head, so you continue.

“I owe you something. I’m getting you- I don’t know, something big. A car, maybe. Do you need a new one? Or a vacation. You deserve a vacation.”

His eyes go wide. Wide and horrified and - bless him - so bashful.

“No- no, doll, you don’t have to-” he stammers, the words tripping over themselves like newborn deers. His usually so sharp cheeks turn the faintest, most beautiful pink. “You don’t have to do anything. M’ just doing my job.”

You stare at him. At the man who has blocked cameras with his body, shielded you from flying elbows, memorized the foods you like when you’re too stressed to eat.

You lean in, close enough to see the silver flecks in his blue eyes. Close enough to see his breath hitch.

“Let me spoil you a little, okay?” you press softly.

Bucky ducks his head as if he’s embarrassed. Mumbles something under his breath, eyes darting everywhere but to you.

“Come on, Barnes. You know you deserve it.” You smile at him, really smile, for the first time all night as it feels like.

Bucky releases an awkward, breathless laugh. And suddenly he doesn’t look so serious anymore.

Because you know that under all that steel and stubbornness and the wall he can be to shield you against the uncomfortable things of your job you can’t escape, he’s a real ass softy.

And you think, maybe the world outside can keep screaming.

Maybe the cameras can keep flashing.

Maybe the whole damn circus can keep spinning.

But as long as you have him, you'll be okay.

[bullet-prooflove]

Dick Pics: John Shen x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989

You’re already waiting for John when he steps out into the ambulance bay, a Starbucks Double Shot Espresso can in one hand and a mocha Frappuccino in the other. It’s one in the morning and you’re grabbing a breather between ambulance call outs while your partner gets some shuteye in the back of the rig.

“Heard you’re seeing someone new.” John says as he hands you the Frap bottle before taking up residence alongside you. “I also heard he’s an asshole.”

“I was seeing someone.” You admit as you pop the lid and take a swig. The rich chocolate taste blossoms on your tongue, invigorating your senses as the caffeine winds it’s way through your veins. “It turned out he was also seeing Ivy, one of the nurses on the day shift.”

“Ouch.” He winces as he pulls the tab on his own drink. “Gotta hurt.”

“It’s gonna hurt him.” You respond, your ass coming to rest upon the wall that lines the ‘decorative’ part of the hospital. “We collaborated and put the dick pics he sent on the pinboard for the med students so they can see what syphilis looks like.”

“That’s who’s they were?” He huffs out a laugh, his palm rubbing over the nape of his neck. “He’s fucking terrible with those angles, who takes one straight down the barrel? It’s not a good look for any man.”

“Philanders.” You tell him, the radio on your hip crackling with call outs to other rigs. “And you sound very well versed in the photogenics of dick pics.”

“It’s an art form.” He informs you, draining his can of coffee. “But I never send unsolicited, I don’t wanna foist my junk on some unsuspecting person eating their hoagie.”

You choke out a laugh.

“You’re a king amongst men, you know that?” You say raising your drink up in homage. “A real diamond in the rough.”

“I try.” He says before his phone chimes indicating the end of his break. He tosses his coffee can into the trash before turning to face you. “Be safe out there tonight alright? Mischief Night, it’s no joke.”

“I know.” You say, using your palm to brush your hair back so he can see the neat scar tucked in against your hairline. “Abbot stitched me up real nice last year after someone through a brick through the windshield of the ambulance.”

“Christ.” He says his fingertips brushing over the indented flesh. “Nice work through.”

“Yea, that man knows exactly what he’s doing with a needle and thread.” You say softly as his fingertips trail lower to the one at the edge of your eye socket that’s barely visible.

“And this one?” He asks, his gaze meeting yours and that’s when it happens that lightning bolt you hear about in all those romance books you read. That moment of recognition, of connection. You don’t understand because you’ve hung out with John Shen hundreds of times since he’s become an attending and although there’s always been chemistry, there’s never been intimacy, not like this.

Your radio crackles again, your call sign being hailed over the line as he pulls away and you feel the loss acutely as you take the radio off your hip.

“You can tell me later.” He tells you as he heads towards the entrance at the hospital. “Over breakfast after shift.”

“EMS don’t get the cushy shifts you doctors do.” You remind him, bring the radio to your mouth, finger resting on the button. “I’m on til 11am.”

“Alright, we’ll do brunch then.” He responds, walking backwards towards The Pitt. “You’ve got my number, text me when you’re off and I’ll come out and meet you.”

“You’ll be too tired John.” You call out across the ambulance bay.

“Baby, I’ve got stamina for days.” He informs you as he ducks back in through the entrance. “Trust me I’ll be there.”

Fuck me, you think. No unsolicited dick pics and stamina for days. You might just fall in love with this man.

Love John? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[kankuroplease]

Heh look at them trying to patch things up for me ~

What a treat to wake up to, Nisi! Thanks for taking my request 🖤🖤

finishing up the last request from like.. 3 weeks ago :D Oops. anyway || Konohamaru x OC / Shino x OC / All Might x OC / Kakashi x OC / Kakashi x OC reloaded

"i want to be wildly, deliriously happy.  wildly, deliriously loved."

requested by @kankuroplease

-

“So- uh, that’s about it,” she leaned back in her chair, eyes set on her opposite. The man in front of her seemed frozen in place like a statue, only the irises moving as if he was trying to solve a very complicated mathematical equation in his mind. Ko tapped her foot impatiently, the nerves that had followed her around all day were now creeping at her back again. “Thoughts?”

Konohamaru put his fingers together, his blue eyes still spinning: “Pregnant, huh?” He said the word like he had just learned it.

“It’s what Auntie Tsunade said,” Ko confirmed.

“And you are sure it is from me?”

Ko frowned in anger: “Of course, I’m sure. What are you implying?”

“Nothing.” His eyes flicked up and she could see the embarrassed blush on his cheeks. “I just wanted to make sure I’m not misunderstanding.”

That didn’t help that much. Ko still felt a little peeved at the reaction. She didn’t know what she had expected after forcing herself to not run away, coming here and telling him about it, but it definitely wasn’t accusations thrown at her. Maybe she had thought he’d be excited? It was so foolish to think that.

She tapped her finger again. “Thoughts?” she repeated. “What do you want to do?”

He leaned back eyes now on hers again, but much softer as they’d been before. There it was again, his tendency to look at her so earnestly, like all his feelings were carried on his face. Ko could see that he still loved her, whyever that was, but most of the time she tried to not look at him too closely. His earnest feelings made her buried ones feel bad, at least that was the only way she could describe it.

“You are the person that can make a choice here. I do not tell you to keep or not either,” he said and moved his head to the side. “In this sense, it does not matter what I feel or what I want…”

Konohamaru let out a deep breath and Ko sensed that he wasn’t done talking. “But-“ he started, “if it is about what I want, if I get to want something in this – uh- situation, then I would want to be happy. I want to be wildly, deliriously happy. Wildly, deliriously loved.”

The words hit so hard that she felt like her head was spinning. “With me?” she asked. How could he just say such things out loud like this? How could he express himself this freely about how he felt about them, about her? His emotions were his weakness, she had always said and implored him to work on them.

“As a family, yes,” he replied. “I wanted you to apologise first, say how you really feel before we could ever be – you know-, but in this situation its probably better to just give it u-“

Before she knew what she was doing Ko had already moved forward, her hand slung around his to pull him closer: “I am sorry, ‘Maru. And I- I do feel-“ She stopped because she just didn’t know how to say it right. “I think I want to be the one to fulfill your wish. I think I want to have a family with you too. I want to have this child, because it is your child too.”

To her surprise he laughed. “I guess that is as much as a confession as I can get out of you.” He took her hand in his. “Well then, we shall be give this one a try again, hm? Without lying this time.”

[theempressofthenile]

Astro notes : Short N Sweet <3 Mercurial Design.

Mercury in the 1st - Comical. Socially abundant. Can be very quiet or loud. No in between. I love them actually. Would love someone that can match their flow, however most can never keep up with their every flowing wave. Their like the wind in human form. Their mind is a capsule of all the memories and experiences they've accumilated with time. Very interesting beings and could show you everything and nothing at the same time.

Mercury in the 2nd - This group has common sense enough to figure things out in such a small period of time that they can do almost anything to get what they want. They have issues with exploring things at first hand (taurus is the original ruler of the 2nd) so they can be a little stubborn but over time they quickly learn for new things to come to them from time to time. Very deep thinkers. Can be very open minded when they WANT to be.

Mercury in the 3rd - Intriguing personalities and are the gift that keeps giving. Soft spoken and has a mind thats free to any and everything. Really reluctant on having new friends but can become the bestest of friends later. they can really shy at times. There most open to conversations with strangers, it seems as they can let their whole world out from their mind and open a door to someone who is willing to listen. Beautiful spirits.

Mercury in the 4th - Sweet childlike personalities and honestly their mystique is one of a kind. Going into their world is like walking into a magical novel filled with fantasy, and coming out and it all disappears. Like a spell. Very captivating artists, and most keep the good stuff in a treasure chest, only the real ones will get a chance to open up whats inside.

Mercury in the 5th - Playful. Soft spoken. Interesting. Knowledgeable. Carefree. Those are the 5 things that is most prominent about their character. They will speak to you through song, writing, or even through and instrument. They work real well with their hands, if you can catch what I mean ;) Smooth charmers and could be a mini casanova so watch out for them. Very seductive.

Mercury in 6th - Talkaholics. Chatty Patties. You get my drift lol. Their caring to the ones they love and are advocates for everyone or everything such as animals and plants or even homeless people. You cannot get away with being mean to someone if they catch they are going to say some lol. Can be very mean spirited to the ones who deserve it. Overall, very practical and humane about things that need most of our attention. They aren't boring, their routines can switch up a lot depending on their mood so be easy on them.

Mercury in 7th - Charming individuals whose seductive prowess come out like a lightning bolt. Everybody likes them. Children come up to them the most tho. They have an angelic presence to their personalities and can get anyone to be on their side. Charismatic. Be careful, because the same way they can use this gift for good, they can switch and you know... do some damage ;)

Mercury in the 8th - Something about their wordplay is very special and potent. They have a gift with words that can transform the way you feel, think, breathe, etc. They have knowledge and insight about the world that most will never accept to be the truth. So they guard these secrets with their life, holding on until the ashes fall away connecting back with the wind. And allowing the circle of life to continue. The mind transforms a lot and they become a new person every once and a while. Be easy on them, their brain can take them to many stages psychologically.

Mercury in the 9th - Have a wit and charm to them that keeps the energy going. They aren't use to having people wanting to be around them or being attracted to them a lot however this happens more often than not. People love what they have to say, and want to hear more of how they view things from time to time. They are really interesting to say the least. Like what all do you know?

Mercury in the 10th - The audience admires these beings. Naturally charismatic and people love to see them on the big screen. They literally have a tv personality and can go viral at some point in their life. Gotta watch out for the people who always have their hands out, their naturally giving and love to share their time and energy freely.. a little too much. Keep your circle small.

Mercury in the 11th - Have a natural knack with entertaining all sorts of groups. Can commit to a cause like no other and get as many people on board. Very persuasive and social skills are through the roof. The social awkward become to most popular. The loner because the one everyone knows. These individuals are great with turning something that was 'lame' into someone fun and cool. Very different from the crowd, which what allows people to see them for their soul and not their flesh.

Mercury in the 12th - Spiritually inclined to feel the waves of the universe. Captivating the stars in the night and then going home to serve the divine with a painted canvas. A gifted creator who's only purpose is to live and die. To create and conquer the mind. The brain is the place of peace, when it wants to be. And when its not, they transmute that energy into something no other than. Something creative. Something special. The universe uses them as the vessel to give a message to the audience who desires to hear the words of God. You will never get another one of them in your life if you ever meet them.

[betterthanyalls]

Can u do a Reader x epic various where y/n is apart of Ody's crew and during the end of thunder bringer Zeus kidnaps y/n and takes them to Olympus instead of letting them either drown or get washed up onto Calypso's island?🥰🥰🤩🤩 It'd be cool if during God games or something Athena finds out what Zeus did and now instead of the games being just to free Ody from Calypso's island, it's ALSO about freeing y/n from Olympus and reuniting them with Odysseus?? Sorry if this doesn't make sense or if it's too much work lol, just write this however you want if you even wanna write it at all teehee ^^"

blinks i think i went through 37 different emotions while writing this, most of them were bad. Ok so, I'm not sure how good this is but please don't kill me😇 TW: Zeus gives reader Ganymede treatment

Part 2

Masterlist

Stolen Soldier

Various (kind of) x Reader

EPIC: The Musical ~ Oneshot ~ Angst

Words: 1.6K

Published: 11-4-2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thunder roared, winds whipped, and waves rocked the lone ship back and forth. Standing on the bow of the ship was a figure of divine power and presence, waiting with a wicked grin. “Choose,” the king of the gods demanded harshly.

“Choose?” Odysseus muttered, looking at Zeus in fear. “Someone’s got to die today, and you have got the final say. You,” he pointed to Odysseus before gesturing to the rest of the crew, “or your crew.”

The captain looked to his crew, locking eyes with Y/n—his best friend, his rock, his shelter. He took a shaky breath, looking back to Zeus in desperation.

“Please don’t make me do this; don’t make me do this,” Odysseus begged. His mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. Looking back at his crew, he saw a range of emotions: anger, hurt, terror, grief, and more. Taking a daring glance at his closest friend, the soldier felt his heart shatter. Holding back tears, Y/n gave him a hesitant nod to show it was ok.

Then, a new voice tore his gaze away from his crew. Looking out over the sea and to the clouds, a figure of familiarity seemed to take place within the clouds. Illusion or not, that was his wife.

Penelope. Odysseus took staggering steps across the shaking boat and to the edge. Both of his hands latched to the wooden railing, his eyes never moving from the clouded position of his partner. Memories flooded his judgment, from his crew and Y/n, to his family waiting for him. “Captain?” A voice of uncertainty spoke up. Eurylochus. The said captain couldn’t even dare face his right-hand man as the sky darkened and Penelope faded back to the clouds.

“I have to see her," Odysseus whispered, tears brimming in his eyes as he finally looked back at his crew. The general saw all of the hurt and betrayal in his men’s expressions. The fear hurt the most to see. “But we’ll die,” Eurylochus pleaded. Odysseus knew he would regret this option until his final breath. Once he got home, how would he tell Ctimene he was the cause of her husband's death? “I know,” Odysseus’ voice broke, a few stray droplets not belonging to the storm washed down his cheeks. 

At the end of those words, the thunder roared, and Zeus grinned evilly. Zeus rose above the clouds, lightning moving to gather in his raised hand.

“Thunder, bring her through the wringer.” The crew drew their weapons in defense, charging towards Odysseus with murderous intent. Y/n stood away from the fight, not daring to lift any sort of weapon against her best friend.

“Show her I'm the judgment call. The one who makes her kingdom fall. Lightning, wield her, use and yield her.” 

As the crew closed in on their captain, the air started to become tense and electrified. Y/n took a step back from the chaos, looking up to see a phenomenon of heavenly power. “Show her what she can’t conceal; her true nature will be revealed.”

A bright light enclosed the surrounding sky, ripping down to the center of the ship. In an instant, a deafening crack sounded, and all light faded to black. Y/n felt like her soul was being ripped apart as she opened her mouth to scream her pain, but no noise came out. Then she felt a drop, only to be brought into a suffocating embrace of cold. Finally, her mind cut out. ~~~~~ Y/n felt different. She didn’t sense the shivering water anymore, but instead a subtle warmth. It took a few minutes, but eventually she managed to peek open her eyes. Y/n wasn’t on a ship in the middle of the sea with the night sky above anymore, but instead there was a grand painting on the ceiling of white marble overhead. Looking around slowly, the young woman saw an unfamiliar scene.

A lavish bedroom surrounded her, furnishings a king could only dream of sitting like average decor in each nook and cranny. Moving her hands, Y/n felt the silk sheets of a glorious bed below her. Ivory blankets fell from her body as she slowly rose up from her position. Placing her feet on the cold marble flooring, the mortal stepped through the room. It wasn’t long before she found herself in front of a floor-length mirror. 

White and gold fabric draped down on her body—a dress fit for a goddess of divine origin. Confusion clouded her eyes as she scanned her new attire. That puzzlement was quickly replaced with fear as two wooden doors opened, revealing an even more confusing sight.

A tall man wearing a white toga entered the room without a care of knocking. Striding to where Y/n stood, she instinctively took steps back from him. “My dear, why do you back away?” The smile on his face was unnerving, especially with the nickname. Y/n recognized that voice immediately, terror coursing through her veins as her lips parted to let out a gasp.

“Zeus.”

The god in question continued to walk towards her with that two-faced smile until he backed the mortal into a wall. “Mmm, you’re as smart as you are beautiful,” he took her hand, placing a kiss on her knuckles. Y/n shuddered in disgust and fear; her heart raced faster than a chariot racer's steeds. She wanted to push him away, but her body felt locked in place. Y/n tried to speak, but her lips were closed tightly like a stone wall. “Hm, dear, I think I know a dress that’d fit your body much better. Let me help.”

~~~~~

Within only the second morning of the Heavenly Palace, Y/n had the overwhelming urge to jump off. But she wouldn’t be allowed such a pleasure with the god at her side. Zeus had taken it upon himself to guide the mortal on a tour through Olympus, which only influenced her thoughts. 

Y/n kept her eyes on Zeus every second. Not out of intrigue or anything of that sort, but of apprehension. Each movement of his that was near her direction, the mortal would tense up and pause everything. Soon enough, the king of Olypmus noticed and grinned with faux comfort. “Dear, you seem tense. Allow me to ease you.” ~~~~~ Day after day. Weeks after week. Zeus never let Y/n leave his side, threatening any god or goddess who even dared to give her a sympathetic glance. The woman was a shell of who she once was. Her eyes sunk and her soul depleted; she felt her life draining by the day. Not in mortality-wise, no Zeus would never let her perish. But in consideration of her spirit.

Each night she would cry until no more salt would leave, leaving only choking sobs. Each night she was infiltrated by the king of Olympus. Y/n would stare at herself in the mirror, vomit building in her throat as her eyes trailed down to every mark on her body. No spot was untouched. No matter how hard she tried, Y/n could never wash off the sin. The mortal would scrub her skin until she was raw and bleeding, but the phantom touches remained.

Each night she missed her home and friends more and more. Where was Odysseus now? Did he forget all about her when he returned to Ithaca? What about Penelope? Would she miss her best friend? 

Seven years. Seven years of misery, force, and agony. Seven years of physical and mental torture she endured to no fault.

But soon, like all stories, her savior arrived. ~~~~~

Athena stood in front of her father, spear and shield in hand, while staring into the king’s eyes murderously.

“I’ve played your game and won. Release them,” the goddess of wisdom demanded, shifting her gaze to where Y/n stood anxiously beside Zeus’ throne. The mortal had gone through so much, and Athena was determined to save her. 

Zeus glowered down at his daughter, rage covering his expression. “You dare to defy me? To make me feel shame?” He growled, his fists clenching so tight that his knuckles turned a bright alabaster. “No one beats me; no one wins my game!”

The lightning god stood up threateningly, his hands glowing a static yellow. “Thunder, bring her through the wringer!” The air was caught in Y/n’s throat at the familiar words, her eyes wide in horror. Zeus rose up, the electricity in his hands growing as the woman noticed the alarmed looks on the other god’s expressions. “Show her I’m the judgment call, the one who makes her kingdom FALL!” With a vociferous burst, he threw the lightning at his daughter, forcing her back onto the floor. Once the light faded, everyone looked to see the warrior lying face down, her body still as ice. “Is she dead?” the voice of her brother Ares asked hesitantly. Y/n thought back to every moment her and Odysseus had been with Athena. They were an unstoppable force together. Now though, Y/n only wanted to rush to the goddess side.  Before anyone could do anything, Athena struggled to her feet, holding her aegis in defense while pointing the spear tip to her father.

Zeus’ look of utter shock soon turned to rage at her defiance. In response, he sent a barrage of bolts towards his favorite child. Against this attack, the war patroness held her shield strong and pushed against the force, making her way to her father.

Finally, at the feet of the king, she grabbed his arm and fell to her knees.

“Let them go, please. Let them go.” Her plea was finished as the goddess collapsed, her breath slowing to a stop.