#THE FACT THAT YOU ARE SMILING WHILE YOU SAID THAT LAST BIT IS UNNERVING

[phoward89]

Banner by me. Dividers by @saradika

Summary: You're the winner of the First Quarter Quell and you awaken in the hospital to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your bedside.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow is his own warning! Possessive!Coriolanus, Obsessive!Coriolanus, DelusionalCoriolanus, Dark!Coriolanus, Soft Dark!Coriolanus?, Head Gamemaker!Coriolanus, Mentions of death, Mentions of planning murder, Mentions of cheating/infidelity (not on reader), Mentions of poison, Large age gap/difference (Coriolanus is 33 while reader is 18), Manipulation, um...trying to think of anything else.

Story Masterlist

Chapter 1:

When the Head Gamemaker’s baritone blared out overhead, naming you the victor of the First Quarter Quell, you literally collapsed into a heap on the blood soaked ground from a mix of exhaustion and happiness. Your eyelids drooped and the last thing you saw before you passed out was a pair of peacekeepers coming towards you.

When you woke up, you were in a sterile white room. A hospital room. You had drips and IVs connected to you along with some monitor that made beeping noises. Blinking to readjust your eyes to the brightness of the artificial light, you surveyed the room only to notice that sitting in a chair right next to your bed was none other then the head gamemaker himself. Coriolanus Snow.

“What are you doing here, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You curiously asked. Surely he had better things to do then be at your bedside. Like being home with his wife. Oh and you knew he was married because 1.) He was wearing a gold band on his ring finger and 2.) You've seen a dirty blonde woman his age on his arm in a few pictures of Victor's balls and such in the cheap Capitol rag mags that get circulated around District 12 to be used as tp by the poor and destitute. 

Staring you down with his icy blue eyes, he said, “I'm making sure that District 12’s first victor in 15 years survives.”

His words made a shiver run up your spine. It was common knowledge that District 12’s first and only victor (until now) had mysteriously vanished into thin air a few months after winning her games and returning home. Nobody dared talk about her. Her name was lost to the wind; she was a ghost that nobody paid any mind too. The fact that the head gamemaker wanted to make sure that you didn't die unnerved you. 

Surely you weren't in that bad of shape, were you? Swallowing a lump in your dry throat, you croaked out, “How bad of shape am I in, Head Gamemaker Snow?”

“Please, darling, call me Coriolanus or Coryo, if you'd like.” The platinum blonde, who looked a bit sleep deprived in his wrinkled button up (as if he'd slept in it) told you. “I insist.” He smiled. 

Him calling you darling and insisting that you call him Coriolanus or Coryo made your insides churn. It wasn't right. Why would he be so informal with you. He was the head gamemaker, a 33-year-old man from the Capitol, and you were just a victor, an 18-year-old girl from District 12. You two shouldn't be informal with each other.

“Oh, where are my manners? You must be thirsty. Let me get you some water.” Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow lightly chastised himself while rising from his chair.

Crossing the room to a counter where a tray with a pitcher and glass were, he explained, “When the peacekeepers pulled you out of the arena you had collapsed from dehydration.” Pouring you a glass of water, he further explained, “Your vitals were very low and, in fact, you died once on your way here, but the medics brought you back.”

“What the hell? I died?...” You gasped, struggling to comprehend what you just heard. 

Head Gamemaker Snow appeared by your side and placed the water glass into your hand. A hand much smaller and weaker than his large calloused one. “Yea, but you were revived.” Sitting on the edge of your bed, causing it to dip, he motioned for you to drink. “I must have my Victor alive and well, so that's why I've been keeping watch over you, Y/N.”

His words should've made you see a red flag waving in the air, but it didn't. Maybe you were too young and naive to catch onto the true meaning of his words. Maybe they went right over your head because you were still weak, or maybe since you had a stalker back in 12 that you had convinced yourself was just a weird neighbor boy you didn't realize the true possessive meaning of Coriolanus’ words.

“Are you going to stay here now that I'm awake or?...”

“Unfortunately, I have to leave you here and go home.” He pouted. What the hell, he actually pouted? You had to admit that his plush lips looked very kissable when he pouted. Petting your hair, he gave you a reassuring smile. “Don't worry, darling, I've made sure that you'll be well taken care of by the best nurses that money can buy in the Capitol.”

What he didn't tell you was that he threatened the lives of the nursing staff’s loved ones if you so much as had a hair out of place. That was something you didn't need to know. Just like you didn't need to know that when he first laid eyes on you, in your best cotton floral dress; your hair pulled back with a ribbon for Reaping Day, he found you the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes on and just had to claim you as his. Reason why, as the head gamemaker, he might or might not have screwed around with other tributes’ sponsor gifts and made sure you got a few things here and there that would ensure your survival. You had an innocence to you that he had the primal urge to consume. An innocence that was absent in the Capitol. An innocence and a beauty that he carved to have all to himself.

You just being you consumed him with a passionate obsession. One that he would act on soon. Very, very soon. He just needed to take care of his wife, Livia, so that he'd be free to make you his forever. But that wouldn't be hard, considering he was a master at making people drop dead from sudden food poisoning. 

Pressing a kiss to your hair, Corio- no Head Gamemaker Snow, promised, “I'll be back in the morning to check up on you before I'm needed at the Citadel.”

“You have to wrap up the game stuff don't you, Head Gamemaker Snow?” You asked, even though you were sure he'd say yes. In fact you didn't even know why you asked that. Maybe as a replacement for goodbye since you hated that word. 

Last time you said goodbye to somebody it was your mother and she took off with some officer, leaving you with your older half-brother Rein to take care of you both. He was 15 at the time and you were 5. Safe to say, you never used the word goodbye again in your life. 

“I told you, call me Coriolanus or Coryo.” He reminded you, not liking that you were still calling him by his title. “Yes, my darling rose, I must make sure that all the paperwork is in proper order for your prize money and the construction of your house in Victor's Village.” The platinum blonde man, who you just noticed has bags under his eyes, tiredly told you before pressing another kiss to your hair. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he said, “You need to be a good girl and rest for me.”

You blinked at him. What? Be a good girl? And rest for him? Say what? Your brain was short circuiting at his words. Not just his words, but the way his baritone was both dominant and soft as he spoke them.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he simply said, “We'll talk more tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay.” You nodded numbly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening. You went like your head was spinning, as if you had too much moonshine. Hell, what had your time in the arena done to you?

Coriolanus gave you a pleased smile before rising from his spot on your bed and walking out of your room; making sure to close the door behind him. It was only after he was gone that you realized you were in a private room.

Coriolanus was fucking exhausted when he got home. He could barely keep his eyes open as he stepped out of his black sedan. After you were admitted to the hospital, he dismissed his driver and drove himself there. He didn't want the man to be waiting around on him while he stayed steadfast at your bedside, plus he was more than capable of driving himself home once he saw you open your beautiful eyes. What he wasn't expecting was for you to be asleep for over 24-hours. 

So, sleep deprived, Coriolanus walked into the townhouse he shared with his wife, Livia. The townhouse was a gift he received from Strabo and Ma Plinth once he announced his engagement, but he planned on putting it up on the market once he took care of Livia. He didn't want to bring you to this house that held nothing but hatred and misery in it.

No, he was going to bring you to his penthouse on the Corso. Now that's a proper place for you to live with him. In fact, he'd be telling you about your new residence tomorrow morning during your visit. Oh, he was so excited to tell you that you'd be staying in the Capitol with him. Of course, he'd use the excuse that since District 12 doesn't have a Victor’s Village and it must be constructed that he's arranged for you to use his Corso penthouse during the construction period.

It was a great plan. One that was foolproof. He just knew that you, being so young and innocent, would view his offer as one of help instead of one of ownership. Or, dare he say, love? Yes, love. He was sure that he was obsessively in love with you. It was a feeling he swore to never feel again, but yet again one just can't help who they fall in love with.

He always thought that marrying for hate instead of love or even tolerability would give him power, but truthfully all it gave him was a headache and a bad case of blueballs. Livia was a heinous bitch and was a cold fish in bed. She didn't like to fuck. What the fuck? Who doesn't like to fuck? Coriolanus thought that was absurd, unnatural even.

That's why he had to have affairs here and there; then turn the whores into avoxes to keep their mouths shut when he was done with them. What? He was a man after all and had needs. Needs that he knew you'd fulfill without any problems. With you he'd be faithful because you'd be his mind, body, and soul and would do anything for his love since you were so young. All he had to do was show you how in love *cough* obsessed *cough* he was with you and you'd be his forever.

Unknown to Coriolanus, the object of his marital hatred (Livia) was having an ongoing affair with one of the male avoxes in their household. An avox that had once been an equal of theirs in the Academy and the University, but crossed Snow the wrong way with a question about the songbird from 12. 

Coriolanus wasn't even to the stairs yet when he heard Livia’s screeching coming from the front sitting room. Great…seems like the bitch was waiting up for him. 

“Coriolanus, where have you been? The games ended and you never came home!” Livia demanded in a high pitch scream as her fuzzy heeled skippers clicked loudly against the hardwood floor as she ran out of the sitting room and into the main hall.

“Don't worry about where I was, Livia.” Coriolanus venomously gritted out as he made his way to the staircase.

“You're my husband, Coriolanus. I'm supposed to worry about where you've been.” Livia shrieked while following her husband. 

“I'm your husband when I don't come home, but when I'm home we have separate bedrooms and you come up with every excuse under the sun not to fuck me.” Coriolanus spat back as he tiredly trudged upstairs, feeling a migraine coming on from his wife's nagging. Oh, how he needed to poison that bitch yesterday.

“Your tastes in bed are not the same as mine, husband.” Livia said, placing special emphasis on the word husband, while following him upstairs. “You're too harsh for my taste, but that doesn't mean you can stay out for days on end with some whore.” 

All Coriolanus could see was red, like a raging bull, after hearing her remark. How dare she insult his prowess in bed? He knew how to fuck a woman and how to fuck her good; he never had any complaints either until he tied the knot with Livia. Damn bitch, won't fuck him and then insults his ability to fuck. Oh, yes, it was time for her to go. 

She outlived her usefulness. Livia couldn't give him the one thing he most desperately needed. An heir. What use did Coriolanus have for a woman that refuses to have his child? After a decade of hell with his wife, he was ready to cut his losses. He had control of her family's bank and the Plinths fortune, plus his status as Head Gamemaker and Senator along with his position on the War Council was more then enough to make him a successful candidate for president once the elder President Ravenstill kicked the bucket. He didn't need her for an heir anymore, not when he had you (you were young and fertile enough to give him litters of heirs).

Oh, Coriolanus knew exactly how to make up for never coming home after the games ended with Livia. Oh, yes, he did. 

“The victor, Y/N, from 12 was in bad shape and I had extra paperwork to do.” He smoothly lied to his dirty blonde wife as he set foot onto the second floor of his townhouse. Turning to look at her, he gave her a fake smile full of fake sympathy and offered, “How about I take you out to your favorite restaurant for dinner? The one that has that red wine you can't get enough of.”

“Yes, I accept your apology and dinner invitation. Just don't do this to me again, Coriolanus. We might hate each other, but I'm still your wife and deserve respect.” Livia told Coriolanus before taking off to her room, her robe billowing behind her.

Coriolanus smiled wickedly as he retired to his room. Oh, after tomorrow night he'd never have to deal with Livia ever again. He'd be free to have you all to himself, forever and always.

You were walking in the plains, tall prairie grass blowing in the wind. The deeper you walked in it, the more dread you felt. You couldn't describe the feeling, but you just knew that something was wrong. Then, suddenly, you heard a crunching sound behind you. Turning around, you saw the last tribute, a girl from 2, with a knife in her hand running towards you. 

You were exhausted and thirsty. The water you had been gifted from a sponsor had run out nearly a day ago, so you were feeling the effects of dehydration. You didn't know if you either didn't have a lot of sponsors or weren't getting any more water bottles because a water source was nearby somewhere, but you did know that it sucked you were dying of thirst.

But your thirst didn't matter now. Surviving the girl from District 2 did and you knew you wouldn't be able to fight her in the tall grasses. So you ran. You ran as hard and fast as your lightheaded feet would carry you.

It didn't take long until you were out of the tall grasses and on a barren field of cracked soil. You had a small pocket knife that was gifted to you, something you were sure cost a hefty penny since sponsor weapons were always pricey according to Lucky Flickerman’s game commentary.

Flipping the switchblade open, you turned around and headed straight towards the girl that had tripped and fell at the edge of the plains grasses and the dry bed of field soil. Lifting up your knife, you made to plunge it into her, only for her to look up at you with a sinister smirk and plunge her knife right into your neck.

Your eyes flew open as you screamed bloody murder. You died! You had died in your nightmare instead of being victorious. That nightmare shook you to your core. It frightened you so much that you screamed yourself hoarse, until your vocal cords were stripped. You were so frightened that you huddled in the corner of your room in a fetal position.

Nurses and other hospital staff tried to tend to you; get you out of the corner, but you just struggled and fought with them. You couldn't let them near you. What if they wanted to kill you? What if they hurt you? Your dream had shaken you up so bad that you weren't quite with it yet. You weren't in reality, you were stuck in your own head and afraid that somebody or something was going to get you. You were scared out of your wits. You were so scared that you cried. You weren't aware that you were crying, but the tear stains marred your hollowed cheeks like scars.

Coriolanus had only been asleep for an hour or so whenever he was awakened by a call from Capitol General Hospital. What the charge nurse told him made his heart clutch painfully. His victor, his darling rose, woke up terrified out of her mind and curled herself into a corner, screaming and crying her head off.

“She's having a nightmare about her time in the arena. Aren't you giving her anything to calm her down?” Coriolanus asked the nurse  he was on the phone with as he sat up in bed, flipping on his bedside lamp to softly illuminate his pitch black room in a golden glow of light.

“She won't let anyone near her and you did say to call you with any updates on her condition, sir “ The nurse hesitantly told him.

“I’ll be right there to sign her out since your hospital staff are incompetent and can't properly take care of a victor.” He told the nurse before hanging up on her.

It only took a few minutes for Coriolanus to dress and rush to the hospital. Despite being exhausted, you needed him and he wasn't going to let you down. You were his and he was going to take good care of you. He always took good care of his things. He did like his things to be perfect and if they weren't then he'd make sure that his favorite things were mended until they were perfect. You were his and he'd make sure that he made you perfect once more. Perfect for him, to be by his side as not just his Victor, but as his First Lady. His darling rose.

Dressed simply in a fitted white shirt and black pants, Coriolanus ran up the stairs to your floor and rushed into your room. The site of you curled up, tear tracks staining your cheeks, wide-eyed and afraid pulled at what little heartstrings were in his too small blackened heart. You looked like a wounded animal and he hates it. You were his victor, his darling rose, his future First Lady and he wanted you to recover your senses so that you could regain your strength; be all that he knew you were to him.

He slowly approached you with his hands out in a show of peace. “It's me, my darling rose. It's Coryo.” Coriolanus softy told you in an attempt to let him near you.

Your eyes blinked at hearing his nickname and for some reason you nodded at him. As he crouched down next to you, placing a tentative hand on your shoulder, you clutched the middle of his pristine white shit and sobbed, “I died, Coryo. I dreamed that I died instead of her.”

Your words gutted him. A world without you was no world at all. Wrapping his arms around you: letting you bury your head in his chest, he strokes your hair while offering you the comforting words of, “Oh, my darling, you're alive. You're alive and I won't let anything bad ever happen to you again, Y/N.” You shook in his arms, causing him to simply ask, “You hear me, my darling rose?”

“Mhm…” You mumbled out, too afraid to talk for fear that you'd start crying again. 

“Shh…” Coriolanus shushed you like one would do a small, frightened child. “I'm here. Your Coryo’s here and you're safe. You'll always be safe with me, darling.”

If you were of sound mind instead of scared out of it (from the horrors he designed and put into the damn games) you would've ran far far away from Coriolanus. But, sadly, you were too scared and on the verge of a mental breakdown to understand how twisted the man holding you really was. How obsessessive he was; how wrong letting him hold you was. No, you were too afraid to realize that you were letting the creator of your nightmares comfort you.

Once your sobs subsided and you quieted down, Coriolanus pulled back from you so that he could tilt your chin up in order to have your eyes on his. “I was going to wait til morning to tell you this, but you’ll be staying in a luxurious penthouse while the Victor’s Village is constructed in your district.”

You nodded, only to squeakily ask, “How long am I staying here?”

“Oh, just long enough to build your victor's house. I suppose it'll be done by time your victory tour rolls around; maybe even sooner.” He smoothly lied. He had no intentions whatsoever to let you go back to District 12. You deserved more then the mud and poverty stained streets of the coal district. You deserved to be bathed in rose scented oils and salts, dressed in the finest fashions, fed the best foods, and fucked on the best silk sheets that his money could buy. 

“Okay.” You nodded, naively believing the lies of the head gamemaker. 

“How about we get you out of here and over to the penthouse? Hmm? I'll even call Tigris to come over and spend the day with you, how'd you like that?”

“I like Tigris. She’s nice and was my stylist. Always talked to me like she cared.”

Coriolanus knew that his cousin was your stylist. He's the one that assigned her to you after all. But neither you nor her needed to know that. No…. It wasn't important. What was important was that you two got along, especially since in a short while you'll be family.

“Tigris is my cousin; I'm glad to hear that you like her.” Coriolanus told you while helping you to stand up. “And she does care about you, Y/N.” He told you while leading you over to your bed. “Never forget that the Snows care about you. And that snow lands on top.” He whispered into your ear while helping you sit on your bed. 

You just blinked at him, trying to process what he meant. You were so tired and mentally weak from your nightmare that you had no idea that his remark was one of possession. Your throat hurts from all the crying and screaming that you did, so you weren't thinking straight. Infact, your throat hurts so much that you grab the glass of water from your bedside table, quickly gulping it down.

“Be careful, you don't want to make yourself sick.” Coriolanus warned, much like a parent would to a child, while snatching the glass away from you.

“My throat’s dry and hurts. I need water.” You said in a pained whisper, side eying the glass in Coriolanus’ hand.

“Yes, well, that tends to happen when you scream and cry yourself hoarse.” He stated a bit coldly before lifting the glass to your lips and ordering, “Be a good girl and take small sips for me.”

You obeyed since your throat was aching. The small sips of the cool water seemed to soothe your damaged throat just enough to keep your mind off the pain. When Coriolanus felt you had enough to drink, he put the glass down on your side table. 

Petting your hair, he said, “I need to go sign you out at the front desk, but I'll be back soon to take you with me to the penthouse. Where you'll be safe.”

“Thank you.” You weakly smiled at the man that was now both your salvation and your damnation.

If only you knew what life awaited for you at that penthouse. Would you still be thanking him if you did?

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[iguessthisisanewobsession]

Ghostwriter was really asking for soup time at this point.

He had apologized for his first Christmas truce before, last year he even convinced Clockwork to help him make a copy of the original work he had ruined.

So why in god’s gracious earth did he wake up to Amity Park being in a hallmark movie.

Danny glared as the people milled about the center of town like they haven’t since the portal opening.

It was unnerving, the only thing really missing from the equation was some out of town love interest or something.

“Hey, excuse me.”

Tall and built with black hair and blue eyes.

Oh you got to be-

~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick tried to make himself look more charming as the guy he approached turned around.

When he heard that the justice league were getting concerning calls about a town In Illinois, he saw an out from the Christmas gala.

Sure Dick enjoyed the season, but the fact that he has to spend a large amount of the winter season putting up a front as the perfect firstborn was not something he wanted to do unless he had to.

That being said, the town was a bit unnerving. He hadn’t seen anything supernatural per say but the constant cheer is something he had only ever seen on the silver screen of his home. He had tried to approach several different people only to be met with seasons greetings and promptly ignored when as they ran off to do whatever small towns do for the holidays.

This guy at least wasn’t plastering a smile on his face.

“Hey, excuse me I’m new in town and looking around, my name is-“

“Let me guess, Rupert or Orlando or some shit.”

“What?”

“Well it has to be pompous and annoying. It’s kind of a trend and shit last time I checked.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about man I just wanted to ask-“

The man snorted as he left, throwing over his shoulder with a large amount of snark,

“For a tour around town? A place to stay? A friendly face? Sorry man, man but I’m not interested. The town square is full, ask someone else I have a date with a caffeine addiction.”

Dick watched a bit stupefied as the guy weaves into the ground and out of his eyesight.

“Well he seemed charming.”

Dick raised his phone to the earpiece and sighed,

“Yeah well, he’s the first person who didn’t sound like they weren’t on a script so far. I didn’t even know that midwesterners took Christmas so seriously. How long until you reach town Jay?”

I’m reaching midtown just about now. It looks like Santa took a shit on every-“

There was a sudden squeal of tires as the line cut.

Oh no.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jason gasped as he tried to calm his breath glancing at the guy he almost hit on his bike.

Jesus Christ that was close.

“Shit man are you alright?”

“Peachy. Always liked pancakes and all that.”

~~~~~~~

Danny felt a blush hit him as the behemoth of a guy let out a snort. It was embarrassing that he didn’t notice the guy until he almost became a smear, the dude was built like a tank and wearing a red helmet.

“I shouldn’t’ve taken that turn that quickly.. sometimes forget I’m not at home.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s home for you?”

“Gotham if you believe that.”

“Explains why you drive like you’re chased by death.”

“You have no idea..”

He took off his helmet with another snort and shake of the head. A white wisp in a sea of black shook out while mirthful blue eyes met his.

Crap..

“Name’s Jason. You are?”

“Nunya,”

The guy raised a brow mildly confused.

“Pardon?”

“Nunyabusinessbye!”

Danny took off before he was done with the sentence. He could feel eyes on his retreat for the second time today.

‘Jesus, smooth recovery Fenton.’

~~~~~~~~

Tim rubbed his eyes as he listened to his older brothers bicker over the coms.

He couldn’t understand the issue with the surveillance! All the cameras and mics are properly functioning but for some reason everything is corrupted and it’s driving Tim up a wall!

A break, Tim needed a break from this Airbnb and something caffeinated.

~~~~~~~~

‘Just ten minutes, ten minutes and he could get his drink, he could rant to his friends on the group chat afterwards and wait out the story. ‘

And with as much bravo as any tired young adult, he entered the shop.

Danny almost left the cafe as he heard another unfamiliar voice bellow out.

“What do you mean you don’t have coffee, it’s a coffee shop!”

Blue eyes, black hair, surprisingly smaller than the first two and eye bags that could rival Danny some nights.

Danny was done.

Fuck the treaty this was war.

[bby-deerling]

Hi Cille! Love your writing, "Distraction" lives in my mind absolutely rent free. Halfway through reading it, I had to stop and just held onto the wall for a second. Congrats on all your new followers! May I request a Law + Threatened + NSFW? Cheers! -miss

ahh i loved this request! as a special treat i made it with the same reader from distraction and counting coins in mind!

law x afab!fem!reader + threatened (nsfw)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.0k masterlist song inspo

cw: blood, law is just a smidgen unhinged, fingering, implied oral (reader receiving)

Idling away beneath the crashing waves for weeks on end, it was easy to cast aside the more violent aspects of your partner.  Spending your days cooped up in the lab and evenings cooped up in his office, it was easy to shelve all the fact that Law had killed over one hundred pirates with decent sized bounties and sent their hearts in boxes to Marine Headquarters.  When he holds you close to his chest in the morning, half-asleep and looking as innocent as the day he was born, your mind and heart weren’t capable of acknowledging anything but the overflowing love and kindness he showed to you during private moments together.

However, the carnage unfolding before you was impossible to ignore.

It was your fault, really; you had gotten yourself mildly injured despite being ordered to fall back.  The shift in Law was subtle to the unattuned observer, but you had no doubt in the fact that something in his mind had snapped when he saw crimson liquid trickling down your thigh.

The heat of battle turns some dizzy with rage, but Law’s bloodlust is dark, quiet, and calculated.  He doesn’t deviate from his plan, not for one second, but he becomes more sadistic, cruel, and not afraid to spill a bit of unnecessary blood.  Less hesitant, he goes through the motions, trusting in his initial strategic instincts rather than hanging back to regularly reassess the situation as he normally would.

As your crewmates celebrate a battle won, none the wiser to your Captain’s shift in attitude, you eye him carefully.  It was far from the first time you’ve seen him like this, and it certainly won’t be the last, but it always unnerved you when he was so different from the Law you mill around in coin stores with, or the Law who can’t hide the smile when he sees the notes and doodles you leave on his desk, or the Law who presses sweet kisses into your thigh, playfully teasing you as he makes you unravel for him.  An aura of angst and darkness surrounded him, invisible to seemingly everyone else but you; a shiver of anticipation rushes down your spine when he glances at you for a brief moment and his eyes are seemingly darker than his hair.

When you get back to the Polar Tang, Bepo tries to clumsily patch your small scrape up, but you insist it just needed cleaned up a bit, and that you could handle it yourself.

“Leave it until I can take care of it.” Law warns, his glare still intense from the heat of battle.  You don’t dare to disobey him when he’s in a touchy mood like this, but you do become impatient as one by one, your crewmates are attended to and sent out of the infirmary.  Your injury was extremely minor, so it made sense to treat you last, but you had the gnawing suspicion that even after you had been cleaned up, you would be trapped within these four walls for quite a while; you are proven correct when he locks the door after Penguin finally leaves, staring you down like a leopard stalking its prey and waiting for it to make any sudden moves.

“You didn’t listen to me.  Now look at you.” he said lowly.  Inhaling deeply, you prepare yourself for a lecture for not being careful enough in battle.

“It’s just a scrape Law, I’m sorry—”

“Get on the bed.”

Wordlessly, you climb onto the cold, sterile hospital bed, heart pounding so hard you hear it in your ears.  Law is careful with his footsteps as he approaches, baited by the scent of your viscous, drying blood covering your leg.  Even in his haze of anger, frustration, neediness, and bloodlust, he’s careful and calculated as he slowly drags his fingers along the inside of your thigh.

“How come you always listen to me so well, except for when your life is on the line, hm?” he murmurs in your ear, sending a pulse straight to your core.  He chuckles at your visible reaction to just his words and a few light touches, and gently traces his tattooed fingers along your clothed slit.

Law was methodical, precise, and loving with his touches—except for the rare moments like these where there is something deeper and rougher bubbling beneath the surface.  His mouth is hungry for the taste of your lips, eagerly meeting your tongue with his and leaving harsh bites on your bottom lip each time he pulls away.  He’s rough when he pulls your shorts and panties to the side and slides two of his fingers inside of you, muffling your gasps and moans with his own lips.

You grip the thin paper sheet on the bed as he sinks down your torso, but his mouth doesn’t reach your clit.  He dips lower, and you gasp out when he licks at the blood on your leg.  He moans at the sounds you make as his tongue drags across your wound, sending vibrations through your trembling body.  It was mesmerizing, watching him obsessively drink each drop of your blood—of your life’s essence, determined to consume you whole.

And then you kill the mood.

“Is there a certain class of proteins in saliva that make wounds heal faster, or is that a myth?” you ask, immediately biting your tongue when you remember he’s probably in no mood to talk about this right now. 

To your surprise, he looks up at you, darkness fading from his eyes and wearing a lopsided grin on his face.  “Histatins.  The amount of tissue factor also increases the rate of blood clotting.” he says, before dragging his tongue one final time along your little scrape, sinking his fingers deeper inside you at the same time.

“T-think I’d be able to make some synthetically?” you ask, stuttering as you try to string together a coherent sentence.

“Course you can.  You’re the smartest woman I know.  Not sure how effective it would be in vivo though.” he says, curling his fingers to reach your sweet spot.

You let out a shaky exhale, partly in pleasure and partly in relief.  Trafalgar Law is a terrifying monster on the battlefield, and while it is exciting to briefly feel that intensity directed towards you, nothing beat the way that your Law—not the Surgeon of Death or Warlord of the Sea, just Law—looked at you with that dorky smirk and adoration in his eyes as he fucked you with his fingers.

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

i had this thought, how would the 141 react to reader sleepwalking? like, it's nothing extreme, just walking around and scaring the shit out of everyone also i really love your work

Aww thank you! This is funny and I hope I did it justice

The 141 with a reader who sleep walks

Price

The first time it happened he was more confused than scared

He was up late because of reports. Everyone else was asleep as he made he way to the common area to get another cup of coffee

He was tired even with the caffeine and he was super close to calling it quits for the night when you wandered in

“Shouldn’t you be bed?” He wondered but you didn’t answer which made his eyebrows knitted together. “Everything alright?”

"No I don't want vegetables." You say exasperated and he just stares at you extremely confused

He only gets that you're sleep walking when he gets a better look at the daze in your eyes and the way you're not actually looking at anything

He didn't know you were a sleep walker and he's a little concerned about that but his first thing to do was get you back to bed

"Alright, back to bed with you."

He somehow manages to guide you back to your room and get you back to bed without much trouble, and without waking you up

When you're settled, he's immediately forgotten about his work and is looking into ways to help with your sleep walking

Call him worried, but he doesn't want you to get hurt or for this to happen at the wrong times

Ghost

Scared the ever loving shit out of him

He had been asleep for once finally catching up on the lost sleep after he passed out, his body finally unable to take the exhaustion he felt

However, despite how exhausted he was, he was still a somewhat light sleeper so when you wandered into his room he woke up almost immediately to you standing in the middle of his room seemingly staring at him

He jumped, still foggy with sleep before he sent you a glare with a racing heart as he turned the light on

"What are you doing?" He demanded, annoyed that you spooked him

"I'm the star of the show." You said, almost like it was fact which made his eyebrows knit together

"What?"

He only found out that you were sleep walking when Price came into his room a few minutes later and told him as he tried to usher you out of his room

Since then he's locked his door at night but is on the watch for you

You were so embarrassed when the next morning

Soap

Equal parts confused and amused

He was also asleep after a long day of training and recovering from the last mission

He's not that light of a sleep but he's going to wake up when you open his door loudly and start messing with the things in his room

"What're ya doing over there?" He wondered still half asleep as he watched you pick up one of his sketch books.

"This is the best bread I've ever tasted." You sounded so happy about it that he couldn't help but laugh

"Don't think that's bread."

He figured out you were sleep walking when you kept talking about random things and messing with his stuff with unfocused eyes

He sat in his bed just watching you for a bit, trying his hardest not to wake you up with his laughter until he started dozing off and he didn't want you to be sleep walking while he's asleep

"Let's get you to bed."

He managed to get you back in bed and tucked you in, too excited about how he's going to tell you in the morning

Gaz

Poor Gaz he was scared and then in pain

He was dozing off in his room, determined to stay up as he tried to get through a book or something else he wanted to do

He knew it was time to go to bed but he couldn't help himself and assumed that you were feeling the same way when you wandered into his room

He blinked away the bleariness in his eyes and greeted you with a smile

"What's up?" He was ready to spend some time with you but he quickly got unnerved when you stared at him with unfocused eyes. "Hey...?"

He didn't know what to make of it but the stare was freaking him out and he was also worried about you

Were you drugged? Did you have a bad nightmare and now you couldn't speak?

"Hey, what's wrong?" He walked over to you and placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a slight shake

It was enough to wake you up with a gasp before you threw a punch to his cheek

"Ah, fuck!"

"Oh no! I'm so sorry!"

After you gave him an ice pack and explained to him that you sleep walk and that it's better for you to not be woken up he gives out a small laugh

"Good to know."

[cyber-night]

BRANDING IL DOTTORE

This took so long because Fuck. But enjoy!

Anyways content warnings: Sub Il Dottore x Dom Reader, no beta we die like Niwa, Gore (I think its mild but tbh I'm not sure), Body writing, blood kink, knife play, unhealthy relationship, degradation, masochist Il dottore, Ooc Il Dottore, let me know if I missed something.

It was something he said off-handedly while you fucked him over his desk last week. It had gone something like "Please I need it. Want to be yours want you to claim me, mark me, brand me." And the idea hadn't left your mind since he sobbed it out in the heat of the moment. Presently the reason it was at the forefront of your mind was because he was carving open some poor bastard to make as he had said "Improvements." Your eyes were watching over the edge of your book looking at your lover's gloved hands expertly wielding his scalpel to cut the man apart.

You couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have Dottore beneath you as you marked him permanently with one of his own knives. How pretty your name would look etched into his skin. If you could make him cum just from that. "Your staring," He said without looking up from his work. You hummed in response as you looked up at his face. It was hidden behind a mask but you still loved to look at him despite it. "Something on your mind my Nightshade?" He asked as he looked up at you. Setting your book down and standing up to get closer to him you say "Just thinking about something you said a few nights ago that's all." You were now close enough to see inside the man's chest cavity. Dottore had removed several of his organs though, you noticed he was still awake and alive, though unable to move anything but his eyes. Dottore seemed to be replacing bits of him with mechanical parts. "Oh? Care to refresh my memory? I've said a lot of things."

His smile was, to some, unnerving to you however it was teasing. "You asked me to mark you as mine. Carve my name into your skin I believe." You say as you look up from the mess of a body that lay between you two. He tilts his head "and? Did that particular request peak your interest?" You look back down at the scalpel in his hand "What can I say it stuck with me." You walk around the autopsy table and wrapped your arms around him "Where would you put it?" He said as he got back to cutting parts of the man in front of you away. "Where would you let me put it?" He paused again before answering "below the neck" he said as he held the scalpel below the man's neck "and above the mid-thigh." He trailed the scalpel down to indicate his range. "So what your saying is I could give you a tramp stamp?" He looks at you and though he's wearing a mask you can tell he's glaring at you "that's disgraceful." With a smile, you respond, "I know and that fact is why it's a contender for where I'd put it." He sighs and turns back to the body before him "Let me finish my work Nightshade."

You pull away with a laugh not missing the way he followed your touch and headed back to where you had been to let him finish his work while you read. It was almost an hour later that he had finished whatever he was doing and handed the body off to one of his segments. The both of you walked in comfortable silence to your shared room though you couldn't see his eyes you could tell he was watching you. As soon as you both got there he took off to the bathroom to quickly wash the blood off of himself and change into clean clothes. You made tea for the both of you and sat on the sofa to read some more of your book while you waited.

He came out of the bathroom not fifteen minutes later his hair damp and free of blood. You'd never understand how he always managed to get blood in his hair. His gorgeous red eyes scanned the room till they settled on you. He sat down across from you on the sofa and took a sip of his tea. "So you've had some time to think it over. Any ideas?" He asks as he sets his cup down and looks at you expectantly "oh? Eager are we?" His eyes narrowed at you "and if I am?" You turn to face him fully and he follows suit. "Well, I have a few, for instance, your ass would be pretty. I'd get to see it every time I fuck you but then you wouldn't see it and I want you to see it I want you to wake up and see my name permanently branded into your skin." You paused to take a sip of your tea thinking. "And that's the problem I kept running into. Your thigh and above your hip have similar issues in my mind" you say conversationally as if you weren't talking about scaring your name into the doctor's flesh. "So how about" you reached out to rest your hand over his heart "Here." You could feel his heart start to beat faster and his breath hitch. "You like that idea don't you?"

His eyes were clouded with lust and excitement. He looked over towards the bedroom before getting up saying "I think I have a scalpel in the bedside drawer." Laughing at his eagerness you follow making a stop in the bathroom to grab some rubbing alcohol. You get to the bedroom just in time to see him victoriously pull a scalpel out of the bedside table drawer. "Are you sure you want to do this My horror?" He looked at you for a moment "I'm sure. If you leave I can always just erase it. Though your not allowed to anyways." He handed you the scalpel and kissed you. You threw the alcohol onto the bed so you had your hand free to start unbuttoning his shirt "And neither are you. Your mine." You said as you pulled away trailing the knife down his cheek. He groaned and tossed his shirt to the side and kissed you again before climbing into the bed and laying on his back.

He looked beautiful, your darling, all laid out for you. After taking in the view for a moment you climbed up onto the bed and straddled his lower torso and fumbled behind around for the alcohol. You had asked him one final time if he was sure he wanted this "if you don't get on with it I might change my mind." He growled out. Clicking your tongue you slipped the scalpel under his chin and used it to force him to look at you "Beg for it" You loved the look in his eyes knowing he wanted this just as much as you did. Being able to take his bratty attitude and force him into nothing but your obedient fucktoy. "Please carve your name into my skin so no one else can fuck me, so everyone knows I'm your whore." You smiled and opened the bottle of rubbing alcohol and poured a generous amount over his entire chest and the scalpel watching him writhe at the cold of it before shutting the bottle and letting it fall to the floor. "Do I have to tie you down for this like one of your patients, Nightmare?" He shook his head not trusting his voice to work. "Good, I'm going to start now. Try not to move." He nodded. "Oh and Dottore? Don't cum." His eyes clouded even more as he nodded.

You started by lightly tracing your name out a few times causing his skin to raise slightly so you could get it perfect. Once you were satisfied you started to actually put pressure onto the scalpel. At the first true cut, Dottore let out a content sigh. You smiled and continued. You went slow savouring the way the blood dripped from your work staining the sheets beneath. Giving in to temptation and licking up a streak of blood earned you a sharp breath from your work in progress. You could feel him tense up at every line and curve. Once you had a superficial etching you started over again. Deepening your lines to make them last for as long as he lived and even if they didn't? If they ever started to fade? You'd go over them again and again. However many times you needed to make it stick.

Eventually, he seemed to be basking in the pain freely moaning when you cut a little deeper. A small part of you wanted to go until you hit bone just to know what kind of sounds he'd make as you scraped the scalpel over his bones but you didn't truly have the energy for that and it would require something more akin to a lab setting. . . An idea for another day. You did however keep going till you knew you were deep in the dermis stopping when you finally grazed muscle. You had been so focused on your work you had almost stopped paying attention to Dottore he was drooling his eyes rolled back in bliss. Your perfect slutty masochist. You tapped his cheek with the bloody scalpel to bring him back to the present. As much as you didn't mind the idea of him being your brain-dead fuck doll you wanted him to be somewhat there mentally. When you saw his eyes focus. "It's done pet. Now, how about I help you with this?" You said as you pushed your ass back which as predicted grinded over his rock-hard cock. He moaned at the friction on his neglected dick forcing out a "please."

You pushed yourself back so you were now sat in between his legs the scalpel discarded to the side of the bed. You pulled his pants and underwear off in one movement. You tossed the last of his clothes off the bed. His cock already pouring pre-cum. You once more reached into the bedside table looking for lube. You noticed as you sat back lube in hand that Dottore seemed if you didn't know any better you'd say embarrassed. "Are you alright Darling? Do you want to stop?" He looked away "No. I-" It took you a moment to process what you were looking at and then another to mentally get your shit together. Dottore was still saying words but they didn't matter. A plug. More specifically a black plug with a red gem at the base that matched his eyes perfectly. "How long has it been in?" He was looking anywhere but at you.

You grabbed it and started twisting it and pulling on it. He let out something more akin to the sound his subjects make when he slits their throat "Dottore how long?" You asked getting impatient. Upon realizing that he had yet to answer you he came back to his senses and you finally got an answer from your whore of a boyfriend. "Put it in when I found out you'd be sitting in on the surgery." In a slightly quieter voice, "I like the way you fuck me after I've worked on a subject." You continued to fidget with the plug "oh? And what do I do differently?" You knew what he mean you always fucked him harder more animalistic than loving. There was just something about taking the mad scientist who had just murdered someone and fucking him senseless. It was a power trip you'd never get used to. "Your brutal Nightshade, you fuck me like I'm nothing" He whispered. "So you decide to fill your desperate hole with something so I could just pound you when you were done? Were you even planning for us to make it out of the lab? Or did you want me to fuck you on the table you'd just carved someone open on?" You pulled the plug out before ramming it back in. "Maybe next time your working we should put a vibrator in your cum dump of a hole and see how long you last."

You pulled the plug out and tossed it to the side with the scalpel. You lined your dick up with his empty hole as you trail your clean hand up his chest settling over your name which looked beautiful in his skin. "Ask nicely for my cock and I might indulge you." His dignity had long since been abandoned "Please fill your pathetic whore up with cock and cum please-" He trailed off as you started to slowly push yourself in. You paused waiting for him to continue. He looked up at you confused "don't stop! why did you stop?"

"Well, you stopped and I don't recall telling you that you could."

"Oh fuck" He moaned out. You watched his cock twitch and leak as he begged "Please breed me want you to fuck your cum into me. I want to be nothing but a hole for you to fill when you come home please." As he was blabbering you shoved your cock into his ass as the hand that was still settled over your name pushed down on it ripping a scream from him. You let him catch his breath before digging your fingers into the mark again "Tell me slut what's stopping me from writing whatever I want on you hmm?" His brain took a moment to process the threat but once it had he was back to begging "Oh fuck yes, my body is your canvas." He let out a guttural moan as you pulled almost all the way out to set a slow brutal pace. "That's right good boy. My pretty little fuck toy." You weren't going to you hadn't discussed it prior but you did file it away for later.

As you fucked him you once again pushed against your name engraved in his chest and wrapped your hand around his throat squeezing as his eyes widened and then rolled back as he came though you didn't stop fucking him instead opting to fuck him faster. "Pathetic. Should I treat you like one of your subjects? As nothing more than an experiment?" He shuddered trying to breathe while you choked him "Wh-what experiment are you conducting on me?" He managed to force out "My experiment? It's trying to find the limits of your masochism. Letting, no begging me to carve my name into you and then have the audacity to cum without asking after and from me choking you no less. You must be a slut for pain Doctor" he moaned at hearing his title said with such sarcasm. "Yes, fuck yes I'm your pain slut punish m- oh fuck punish me however you want Please!" You kissed him "with pleasure." With that, you made it your mission to fuck him until he either passed out or you decided he'd had enough. Either way, your pet doctor was in for a long night.

[allkordelia]

Hi! Can I request a imagine/smut where the oc is black and is Targaryen? And she is the older half-sibling of Rhaenyra and is named after Visenya. Daemon likes her and is very possessive and kind of have yandere tendencies when it comes to her👀. She is extremely good in combat and a great war tactician like her namesake. And can she be the rider of Vhagar? And has the ability to bend blood at her will and make weapons out of them?

Blood/Lust

You rode vhagar high in the sky circling bloodstone looking down at where the Triarchy were hiding, it been almost year and half years since you left king's landing to join daemon and uncle corlys. Well, more like ran away rather than join you left home after a fight with you father, viserys, and you have to say you kinda wish you didn't the fact of the matter is we are losing and daemon "the commander" is leaving your uncles and you to come up with a strategy.

While he tries using caraxes to kill the triarchy and craghas drahar even through you told him millionth time that the dragonflies won't reach them in the caves, he does it anyways like a nonlistening child and your starting to feel like a mother now.

You look away from the bodies of your fallen comrades as you pull the reins causing vhagar to fly back to camp, it was nearing nightfall when you dropped down from your dragon since she's so big she would have to stay far away from the camp. You sigh taking the helmet off your head before shaking your white dreadlocks, the head of vhagar nudge you causing you to scratch under her chin making the beast let out a soft growl before completely laying on the ground.

You patted her snort before walking away as you walk the silver armour that they gave you scrap and clank togther with every step you took, seeing as the walk back to the camp going to be a long one you started thinking why you were here.

~

Daemon looked down at rhaenyra as she wore the necklace he just gave her his finger graze her collarbone, he watched with mischief as she grew pink at his touch she soon stepped away when the door to the throne room opened. He glared over at whoever interrupted them when his gaze turned soft when he realized it was you, visenya was your name the bronze beauty with white kinky hair like his and rhaenyra. He raked his eyes over your body haven't seen you since you were rhaenyra's current age, the red dress that pushed up your breast and hug your waist made him stare as you walk with grace with your hands behind your back and a small playful smile on your face.

"And may I ask what you two are doing in here?" You stopped in front of them glancing between them.

"Our dear uncle has gifted me a necklace...its made from valyrian steel." Rhaenyra said with bright smile looking at her older half-sister, your brows shot up as you step closer to look at the pretty necklace.

"Ah, It's very beautiful, rhae." Daemon watched as you smile at your sister, some siblings would be displease to found out that their younger siblings got a beautiful gift like this but not you not an ounce of jealousy or bitterness on your face just a carefree smile.

"Rhaenyra. I need to speak with your sister about a matter." Rhaenyra frown a bit before nodding and looking back at you.

"I'll be in godswoods when your done." You nodded before watching rhaenyra walk out leaving daemon and you alone.

"I hope I'm not in trouble." You said with a playful look, he chuckled shaking his head.

"No. I just wanted get a moment alone to talk, how have you been?" He asked giving you a soft smile, "You grown so much since I last saw you."

"I'm good, uncle. I am happy to see your back and well." He didn't say anything just giving her a low hmmm as his eyes went to her expose cleavage.

"I heard that you weren't in the Vale for sometime, where have you been during your time away." You asked calmly feeling a bit unnerved as he looked at you, he glanced back up before shrugging.

"A little bit of everywhere, you could say. I was in dorne, then I went to the iron islands, and I lingered in the free cities for a bit before getting bored coming back home." He chuckled moving to scratch the back of his neck.

"Well, we're happy your home and in time for the tourney I heard you got some competition." He rolled his eyes at that knowing very well half the men joining the tourney don't have a chance.

"I'll doubt that, neice."

"I don't know, daemon. I heard a new knight from dorne is very skilled and very handsome." Daemon narrowed his eyes at you not liking this new knight if he caught your attention.

"We see about that..." he stated before turning on his heel and walking to the iron throne.

"Daemon." You said cautious knowing what he was about to do, he gave her mischief smile before taking a seat.

"One day, all of this will be mine." He said looking around the room with a proud look.

"I guess I have to pray twice as hard for a boy, then." He turned to you with a soft glare.

"You mock your future king, princess." You shook her head.

"No, I mock my uncle the prince..." you giggle before standing in front of him, "...this is consider treason you know." He shrugged before patting his knee.

"Come sit and see what I see." You shook your head.

"No, thanks I choose life." He chuckled.

"Come on, live a little neice this might be your only chance to see what your ancestors saw when they sat here." You looked at him for a moment thinking you let out a small sigh before walking closer, this was a bad idea and you knew it but you did wanted to see why this seat was so special and made every person in your family fight over it like a peice of meat.

You glanced at daemon as he stared at you he put his legs togther making you sit down, you scooted a bit causing a soft groan to leave daemon's lips. Your eyes go wide before muttering a soft "sorry" about to get up when he right arm around your waist keeping you still, daemon shifted her on his left knee not before he got whiff of your perform you smelled like honey and cinnamon.

"You smell nice." He commented, she thanked him before she sat on his lap a bit stiff, "...relax and look ahead and tell me what you see." Your brows knitted togther before relaxing leaning back, you look ahead your hand rest on the arm of the throne as you looked around the empty room.

"I-I don't see anything." You turned your head to look at daemon, your faces were close to one another causing you turn away quickly making daemon chuckle softly.

"Pretend that your the queen and tell me what you see." You looked at ahead and tried to imagine but you shook your head slightly.

"I can't...what do you see." You asked

"I see lords from all over bending the knee to me, I see tables full of foods with people laughing and drinking." You hummed with a soft smile.

"With jesters?" You asked hearing him chuckled.

"Of course!" He exclaimed with a grin.

"How about fire dancers?"

"Yes, what kind of king would I be if I didn't have jesters and fire dancers at my coronation." You both laugh as he wrapped other arm around you squeezing you a bit as your hands went to his arms, daemon held a slight smile as you giggle before you knew it daemon lips was on yours.

Your hands went to his chest while one his hand went the back of your neck while the other one went to your waist slowly moving up, you couldn't help but kiss back your hand going to the side of his hand he too soon moved his hand from the ba k of your neck to your cheek.

"Daemon..." you breathed out as he kissed her neck well your hands went to his hair, you felt his hand massage your breast before grinding against you.

"Your so divine, visenya. So divine."

You both stopped suddenly when you heard talking and footsteps coming your way, you got up and daemon grabbed your hand before pulling you towards a secret passage. He still held your hand as he lead you through a maze until we finally saw a stone wall he pushed at it making it open and only to found it was your chambers, you walked in looking around as if you never been in there before looking over at daemon closing the stone wall.

"I did not know I had that in here." You said to yourself but daemon heard you making him turn to you with a slight smile.

"You can thank aegon for that he wanted secret passages made so if enemies reached the red keep, his family will found a way out through the castle and into the city or out." You didn't know that peice of information and you thought you read all you know about the castle.

"I never read about in any books we had." He shook his head slightly as he got closer to you.

"Well, if he wrote it down it wouldn't be a secret would it?" He says looking down at you making you let out a embarrassed chuckled.

"Yeah, I guess your right..." you looked down at your feet before daemon tilted you head up to look at him, you let out a shudder breathe as his thumb swipe across your bottom lip before kissing you again. Your hands went to his arms to steady yourself as he kissed you with passion you knew you should pull away, but daemon had this magnetic pull to him that made never to let go and daemon felt the same way.

"Princess? Are you in here?"

"Yes! Don't come in I'm changing." You shouted as daemon's face was in your neck pushing you against the table and started lifting up your gown.

"Your father wishes to see you, m'lady." You slap daemon's hand away as he continue attacking your neck.

"I-I'll be there soon." You strutted fighting back a moan as daemon found your sweet spot on your neck.

"Your father instructed you come immediately." You heard daemon chuckled as he hoped to do the same.

"Okay, I just...need to...found my...shoes." Daemon pecked your lips as you talk making you hit his chest, the guards didn't say anything making you fear they come in here.

"Alright, princess." Your shoulders slumped in relief, daemon brought your attention back on him.

"I should get going..." you said slowly moving from he grabbed your hand kissing it.

"Not before I give you your gift." You looked at him taken back before watching him take off his targaryen ring.

"Oh, daemon I can't take that–" he didn't listen as he put the ring on your finger.

"Yes and you will, think of it as a temporary gift until I give you a real one." You chuckled looking at the ring on your hand.

"...fine...thank you." You looked at him again and he smile softly at you, you grew warm when his hands caressed your face well bring hisnfave closer.

"Can I come see you tonight?" He whispered against your lips, you hummed softly nodding before he planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

"I see you then, princess." You smiled at him as he left to the secret door you looked down at the ring again before holding your hand to your chest, and you couldn't help the smile staying on your face before walking out of your room.

~

You finally made your way to the camp walking straight to your tent, you hoped you can get their without any trouble from daemon. It been worrying about you constantly which isn't bad but he knows that you can take care of yourself, and that's not only that but you fear he might be getting to possessive over you.

"Where the fuck have you been?" You looked up to see daemon stalking towards you, he grabbed your arms looking you over before you back at your face.

"I was flying...the triarchy were still–" he cut you off with a stern look.

"How many time did I have to tell you, I am the only one to fly over there you could have been hurt. I knew I shouldn't have brought you here..." you glared at him as he ranted.

"I'm sorry, okay! By the gods, I just wanted to see bloodstone so I can figure out how we can lure them out without fucking dying." You snapped back before walking away, daemon watched as you stalk away growling lowly in his throat why couldn't you see that he wanted to make sure you were okay.

He rolled his eyes to the sky before walking to the large tent that they use to talk strategies, he walked in taking a seat at the end of the table he snapped his fingers to one of the servants he brought from dragonstone before tapping his goblet.

He leaned back in his chair listening to vaemond and corlys talk, he drowned out their voices as his thoughts went back to you. He shouldn't have snapped at you the last thing he wanted was for you to be mad at him, after all he didn't wish to waste all of his hard work he put in to make sure you were here by his side.

~

It was late in the night when daemon was in the small council chambers the meeting ended a while ago but he stayed behind to speak with his brother, alone without a sudden cunt to interrupt them.

"Are you excited for the tourney tomorrow, brother?" Viserys asked.

"Very. Our dear, visenya said I have some competition." Daemon rolled his eyes making viserys chuckled.

"Yes, many good knights and many good candidates as well." Daemon raised a brow.

"Candidates for what?" He asked before putting his goblet to his mouth.

"For Visenya. It is high time she be marry off," Daemon glanced at his brother with an unreadable look.

"What about her...abilities. Aren't you afraid she might act out. " He said, viserys shook his head putting down his cup.

"Visenya is an obedient daughter she will listen to me."

"She's also strong minded, brother...." daemon said.

"True. But she knows her place and she been trained to play her part, and I'm sure any men will be happy to have her." Daemon kept his bitterness to himself before watching his brother pour more wine in his cup.

"How many have offered to marry her?" Daemon asked making viserys sighs exasperated.

"None. They all to scared of her and her abilities, but that will change tomorrow hopefully." An thought came to daemon as he look at his slighly drunk brother with unbothered look.

"May I speak freely, brother."

"Never stop you before." They both chuckled before daemon choice his words wisely.

"May I offer an alternative arrangement for visenya." Viserys furrowed his brows.

"Like?" Daemon shrugged.

"Give her to me..." Viserys was a bit drunk to know what his brother meant by that well daemon knew what he was asking.

"For?" He asked.

"...her abilities...she's a great fighter and she can help with the stepstone problem." Viserys scoffed out a laugh.

"I'm not sending my daughter out there for you to use her as some sort of weapon–"

"You'll be killing two bird with one stone–" Viserys cut his brother off.

"The answer is no, daemon. The last thing I need is for her to play into this 'the lady of blood' banality like her namesake." He huffed getting upset.

"She will do like every other women in our family has done, lay on her back and produce as many heirs and dragonraides until it kills her." Daemon watched as he brother down more wine trying not to smirk.

"Yes, of course, brother." Daemon let it go getting what he wanted from his brother.

~

The meeting in the tent was finished daemon didn't hear anything the entire fime as he was the first to get out of his seat and go look for you, he made it to your wide wall tent peeking inside to see you talking with another knight he glared at the man as he walked in causing the two to stop and look at him.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." He said looking at you.

"No...not at all," the knight said before getting up off the small box she had in the tent.

"Thanks again, princess." He gave you a soft smile making you give him a small salute as he moved past the rogue prince, daemon stared at you as he walked further in taking a seat on the small box.

"What did he want?"

"His arm was bleeding so I patched it up." You shrugged looking at your feet as if it wasn't a big deal.

"And he couldn't go to one of the others." He asked.

"I guess he wanted a woman's touch." You joked, daemon didn't found it funny he didn't find it amusing he hummed before moving to sit on the cot next to you. His hand went to your thigh before leaning in only for you dodge his kiss, but that didnt stop him from kissing along your neck.

"Daemon not tonight." You said pulling away him to stand.

"You said that the night before."

"Yeah, well I'm not in the mood to fuck when a bunch of our soldiers are dying." You said putting your hands on your hips, he covered his eyes with his hands before sliding them down.

"You think i don't know that I'm trying–"

"Are you? Because to me it feels like some sort of sick game to piss off my father." He stood up angry.

"I didn't come in here to be lectured. I came in here for the same purpose I brought you to the stepstones to fuck." You slapped him across the face making him snap his head to the side.

"Get the fuck out of my tent." She hissed crossing her arms angry he looked at her for a moment before scoffing and walking out, he stopped when he heard his name he saw you walk out.

"Take your fucking ring back too, asshole." You threw the ring at his chest before going back into your tent, daemon looked down at the ring before bending down grabbing it he heard laughter and turned to see the same knight and some others drinking.

~

You rode on the back of Syrax with rhaenyra to dragonstone, when you made it you tapped on your younger sister shoulder before pointing at the bridge where the men had their swords out. Syrax screeched before landing on the bridge you got off before helping rhaenyra down, she walked ahead of you as walk behind making the men cleared the way.

Rhaenyra ignored otto's objections as she continued ahead you stayed back making sure no one stopped her from speaking to daemon, you haven't seen or spoken to daemon for nearly half a year after the brothel incident he tried to convince you come with him but your heart was still broken from the lost of another mother so you refused and stayed for your father and sister.

"Your father will be very displeased to hear about this, princess." Otto said standing next to you as you both watch them talk.

"Maybe so, but atleast you all will leave with your life, isn't that something otto." You glanced to the man making him nod.

"Yes, of course, princess." He looked down at your hand seeing the ring that daemon gave you, you moved your hands behind your back as you stared at daemon and rhaenyra.

Your heart jumped into your stomach as daemon tossed the egg to rhaenyra, he stood there looking at you while you turned your attention to you sister. You moved aside so the dragonkeepers can receive the egg, rhaenyra put the egg in their hands before looking at you.

"His asking for you." You turned your eyes to daemon who looked back at you waiting, you let out a sigh before walking over to him.

"Daemon."

"Issa jorrāelagon." He smiled speaking in valyrian walking closer whispering making you roll your eyes. (My love)

"What is it?" You said.

"Ao jurnegon gevie hae mirre." (You look beautiful as ever.)

"What do you want, daemon." You gritted out agitated.

"Emagon aōha kepa found ao nykeā valzȳrys, yet?" He tilted his head to the side looking at you. (Have your father found you a husband, yet?)

"I'm leaving." You said turning around he grabbed your arm pulling you close, you held your other arm out to stop the others. You leaned back as he leaned forward thinking he was about to kiss you in front of everyone, but instead he moved past your mouth to your eat whispering.

You looked at him taken back as he let go of your arm, "You know I will never lie to you." Was the only thing he said before stepping back and going back inside, I stood their shock and hurt before walking back to my sister and the men.

"What did he say to you." Otto asked, you looked at him for a moment before looking away with dejection.

"...nothing important." You said before walking away to Syrax.

When you got back to the red keep you went straight to your room staying their the remainder of the day, even when your father wish to yell at you and your sister about leaving the castle you stayed in your room not letting anyone in wishing to be alone. You hoped that what daemon said was a lie you wished it prayed for it to be, it took you a while for you to trust your father after your own mother dead at childbirth and if he wish for you to do the same then....

"Princess? Your father wishes to see you." You were under the covers when you shouted.

"Tell him I'm ill."

"He said it is important and will only take a few minutes." You pulled the cover from over her head and got up.

You neared the room when you saw rhaenyra walk you called her name as she ignored you and sped walked past you, you turned to follow her when you heard your uncle corlys talking making you head to inside.

"What has happened? What is wrong with rhaenyra." All eyes were on you making you look around the room, viserys stalked towards you grabbing your hand with the ring on it.

"So, it's true." You looked over at Otto before snatching your hand from his grip.

"What is?" He glared at her.

"What did daemon say to you at dragonstone."

"Nothing of importance." He put his finger up.

"Don't lie to me. They were multiple people who saw it, what did he say." You didn't say anything as you played with the ring, he notice and grabbed your hands.

"Visenya!" He snapped.

"He told me how you truely think of me! How-how you think I should lay on my back and push out heirs." You snatched your hands from him stepping back.

"That's not–I didn't mean to say it–" you let out huffed of air can't believing what you were hearing.

"I thought we were past this..."

"We are." He says.

"No, we are not. We never were." You turned away walking out.

"Visenya." He called out but you didn't turn back, you took a horse and rode to the hills where vhagar sleeps. You left king's landing to travel back to dragonstone, you went to the great hall to found daemon by himself. He got up when you came through the doors he could tell that you confronted your father, he opened his arms making you wrap her arms around his waist he rubbed your back whispered sweet words before leading you to his chambers.

~

You woke to see it was morning you rolled out of bed foundung a tunic and trousers to put on before walking out, you head towards the other men eating taking a seat next to your cousin, Laenor.

"Where's our fearless leader?" You asked.

"He went back to bloodstone." You rolled your eyes before wolfing down your breakfast and wine, you patted laenor on his back before getting ready for today.

You looked at the sky watching daemon ride caraxes while your uncles discussed strategy you took your eyes off your lover at the ships being destroyed by the triarchy, you were in thought about how you get on the island without dying when the sounds of caraxes roared as he blew fire in one of the caves is when an thought came to you.

"I'll think I know how to get them out." You turned to your uncles and the rest if the men, they looked at you as you came to the board.

"I'm all ears." Vaemond said exhausted crossing his arms.

"We will need someone to go to the island alone, when I was flying over I saw a white fabric on the ground we could use that..."

"For?" Laenor asked.

"To surrender if they think we're surrendering they will come out, and your soldiers will come over." You moved a pawn to the shores of bloodstone on the board.

"Laenor will follow after with seasmoke, you will have to aim high since that's where their archers are shooting from." You moved a dragon pawn around on the board, you turned to the men.

"It's not a great plan but it's something."

"It's a better plan ours." Vaemond commented.

"Thank you, uncle. But, we still need a decoy...and I volunteer myself." Corlys shook his head.

"No." He said not allowing it, he will send all his man first before his own blood.

"Then who should go, brother? What madman is willing to go down there with no one. " Vaemond asked.

"Daemon." Laenor said backing up his cousin, and as he said that caraxes flew over them.

"It should ms that goes I have the stamina and the abilities to do it." Corly looked at you for a moment conseplating.

"I can do it, uncle." He smiled nodded before putting an hand on your shoulder.

"...intelligent and brave like your mother, no wonder she named you after her favorite warrior." He murmur to you when he past by you making you smile, you turned seeing daemon make his way through the crowd of men as he neared a boy you recognized from court along with a couple of men behind him walk to us.

"Princess..." he bowed before looking at daemon, "...messgae from the king himself, prince daemon." He handed the rolled up parchment to daemon, you watched as daemon unrolled and read it.

You watched him read it and you notice how his face twitched with every word scanned, anyone else would think everything was fine but you knew better whatever your father wrote pissed and angered daemon. He was finished reading handing it back to Addam before the young man can look take back you snatched it out of daemon's hand, you scanned through it furrowed your brows reading good news rather than bad before you knew it daemon was besting the messager with his helmet.

"Daemon!" You shouted at him as he beat the messager, you looked at around as all the men knew better than to touch daemon when his like this. You lifted your hand up slowly making daemon groan as he stop his assault on the young man, you twisted it a bit as daemon held his stomach in pain.

A small perk in your abilities you can cause them to do as you wish by just bending and manipulating their blood, you broke out of your consternation when your felt a hand on your should causing you to stop. Daemon let out a painful groan as he kneel to the ground, he looked over at you seeing your left eye let out a bloody teardrop.

"Take the him to get looked at," you told the others that accompany messager before looking at corlys.

"I'm taking the rowboat to bloodstone, wait for my signal." He nodded before you walked passing daemon who was slowly getting to his feet, you used the back of your hand to wipe away the blood.

From the time you got here you been using your blood bending frequently against the enemy and training, you still don't know how to use it since you were forbidden to use them back home. Your father feared that you might be too much like visenya targaryen if visenya had powers, but after two years you gotten better at making your blood turn into a weapon a favorite of yours is the rope dart. You saw it once a long time ago when a dornish woman use it as a trick on rhaenyra fifth nameday, you were captivated by it that you wanted learn to use but your father refused to allow such thing.

"Wait! I'm coming with..." you stop looking behind you to see daemon walking after you, you didn't say anything before finally getting to the rowboat. He held out his hand so you can get in but you ignore it getting in and taking a seat he pushed it into the water before jumping in himself, you grabbed the oar like daemon and started rowing neither of you spoke for some time until you notice he was wince with ever time he moved.

"Are you alright?" He looked up at you before nodding.

"Yeah, I'm fine just a bit sore." You hmmed looking behind him at the island, daemon looked at you before speaking.

"Do you still want to be with me, visneya?" You looked away from the island to daemon as he stared at you.

"That's not what you should be saying to me right now," you said plainly.

"I know and I am sorry for what I said last night, I didn't mean it you know...we all been on edge." You looked at him for a second before staring over his shoulder, daemon cast his eyes away feeling a bit rejected.

"... and yes, I still want to be with you." A slight smile played on his lips as they row in silence the entire way, they finally made it on shore you looked around until your eyes caught the knight from last night.

"He's with the gods now, visenya." Daemon said looking at the knight, you sigh nodding as a feeling of anger bloomed inside your chest.

"Do you have your dagger." You nodded before stopping as you tear the white fabric and grab a broken spear tying them making it look like a flag.

"What are the chances this might not work?" He asked as you hand him the stick.

"Uh, I'll get back to you on that." You gave him a pursed smile as you continued walking.

You both made it seeing the ruins of bloodstone, daemon raised up the white flag waving it you looked up to see archers pointing their bows at them, your eyes moved away when men in mask came out. Daemon planted the stick in the sand before we both kneel he took out dark sister as a "offering for peace", your dagger was on your thigh hidden the masked man came closer to you both as he looked down at us.

You cut your hand on a sharp stone in the sand the blood started to morph into a dagger, as daemon killed the man you threw your blood dagger at another man. You ran grabbing the blade his chest before stabbing the other with your valyrian dagger that daemon got you, you both ran dogging the arrows as more man came you slide on your kneels slicing two men legs before turning to stabbing them in the gut. You and daemon held out as long as you could waiting the velaryon troops to come, your blood dagger transformed into a sword before sticking into another twisting it before pulling out. You yelp in pain making you fall to your knee that archer shot you in before breaking it and getting up limping, a man tackled you causing you trumble to the sand as we rolled.

"Visenya!" You heard your name before a painful groan caused you to see daemon get shot with two bows in the leg and chest.

"Daemon." you scrambled off the floor only to feel your ankle get grabbed causing you to turn to the guy and kick at his face multiple time trying to get him to let go, you look to see three more men coming towards daemon you was pulled back getting flip on your back which made you stab the man under the chin when he was above you before pushing him off.

Daemon swinged his sword trying to get them to back away, when he watched as two of the men body twist in a weird way as they yelled out in pain and bleed from the eyes and nose before they necks snapped causing them to fall.

He saw you launched at the last man as you bleed from both of your eyes one of the many arrows hit you in the arm but that didnt stop you from repeatingly stabbing the man in the chest and neck getting blood all over your face, you broke the arrow from your arm before walking over to daemon dragging him to shelter as more arrows were fired at you.

"Are you okay?" He asked breaking the arrows from his chest and leg.

"Yeah, how about you?" He nodded, they notice more men were coming causing them to get up, as they were cornered the sound of troops came from the shores to the rescue you looked up to see seasmoke above blowing fire at the archers.

"Daemon..." he turned to you as you gave him dark sister, "...finish this.." you said before running out to join the fight with the others.

The battle ended with victory as daemon was made king of the narrow sea and stepstones, you clapped and cheered along when daemon brought half of craghas body out. The soldiers decided to celebrate their victory in camp with drinking, you skipped the celebration went to clean yourself off at that this spring you found. It was beautiful and quiet only the sound of nature to feel your ears, you lowered yourself in making all the dirt and blood from the battle wash off and flow away. You leaned your head back enjoying the hot water on your body when you heard a sound coming from the woods in front of you, you looked slowly moved to get your dagger when you saw daemon come from behind a tree.

"You spying on me now?" You asked he didn't say nothing only shaking his head no.

"May I join you?" You shrugged as you watch him him get undress and step inside, you leaned you head back as you went back to reflexing while your arms moved against the water.

You opened your eyes staring up at the purple sky as you feel hands on your waist, you bite your bottom lips as you felt his mouth on your shoulder. You lifted you head up wrapping your arm around his shoulder, his hand was under the water rubbing your heat making you moan softly. Your chest and his pressed togther as you kissed him his tongue slipped making you taste the wine he drank earlier, your hand moved underwater grasping his cock in your hands as you slowly move your hand up and down.

He groaned against my lips before kissing down to my chest and making me gasp as his mouth lick and bite my breast, your nails raked through his hair causing him to thrust his hips into my hand. He soon slap my hand way making you giggle before wrapping your thighs around his waist, you felt his cock rub against your folds making dig your heel in his side making him chuckled. You let out a sigh as he pushed his cock into you he held you against the rock as he fucked into you, you whimper throwing your head back as he suck on your neck.

"Do you love me?" He said holding your thigh tight, you nodded quickly.

"I want...to hear you say it." He grunted out well his thumb started rubbing your your sweet spot again.

"Y-yes, I-I love you daemon." Your nails went to his back leaving stratch marks as he move his hips bit more rougher against your own.

"Will you marry me?" He asked, he feeling you squeeze around him you didn't say anything for a minute feeling your stomach tighten.

"...yes, fuck yes I'll marry you." She moaned out before latched his lips against hers fucking her against the rock not soon after he came in her making her shiver in pleasure.

"I love you, daemon." She said leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I love you too, visenya." He panted kissing her cheek.

They made it back to camp holding hands you grinned having your head on his shoulder, "I have forgotten...this belongs to you." He reached in his pocket with his free hand pulling out his targaryen ring, you gave him your hand as he slides it on before kissing you.

"I'm gonna pack my stuff, I'll see you later?" You asked him with a sly smile.

"Of course, love." He gave you one last on your cheek before you let go of his hand and walked to your tent.

"Visenya." You heard your cousin called out for you making you to see him running up to you, you greeted him before he asked about the knight that was in your tent yesterday. You told him the bad news and how you saw him on the shores, making him furrowed his brows.

"What is it?" You asked.

"Nothing, it just he was supposed to stand watch at dwarfstone with three others but they said they havent seen him since all morning." You tilted your head.

"Did anyone see him last night."

"Yeah, they said he was drinking and was last seen with daemon...." you furrowed your brows as your cousin kept talking your eyes moved over to see daemon looking at the two of you, you looked back at your cousin when he mentioned five other names you recognized.

"We gonna go back to bloodstone to see if we can found and receive their bodies for their families." You nodded seeing daemon walking over to them.

"I hope you found them cousin." He nodded before walking away he nod towards daemon as he does the same before he stop in front of me.

"What was that about?" He asked trying to act dumb.

"You know what you did to ser gwayne at the tourney was cute, but this is just madness..." you said ignoring his question as you continued to walk towards your tent.

"I didn't like how they were looking at you." You rolled your eyes, you expected that he killed them it was sweet since the first two was arshole and a bit touchy when they are drunk but the other three were sweet.

"For your sake, their bodies better be found before the others get back from bloodstone." You stopped outside your tent and looking at him.

"Or what?" He challenged.

"Do you truely want to found out?" You glared at him with a stern look, he stared at you hoping to get you to reconsider but you were firm to your words making him sigh pecking your lips.

"Fine." You smiled.

"Can I atleast–"

"No." You left no room for argument as you walked in your tent leaving daemon scowl to himself as he left to get the bodies from the woods.

[transformers-platonic]

Can you make a story where tfp Ultra Magnus had a mental breakdown because of his PTSD from the war and Optimus just there to comfort him as a older brother figure? Thank you.

-Sorry for the slow reply, I did like the request. This is a lot more serious than what I normally write so I apologize if this isn’t my best work. For any readers who would be triggered by mentions of PTSD in writing, please be aware the story has it.-

Ultra Magnus was sitting in the base. It was quiet, the quiet both unnerved him and made him feel calm. He heard the sound of the base’s door opening and jumped, relaxing only when he saw recognized the familiar sound of Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead entering the base, no doubt with the three humans who frequented the base.

He shifted uncomfortably, the humans tended to bring noise with them. He shut his optics, “I can’t deal with the noise, not today.” He thought to himself with a slight tremble.

Deciding he would feel safer in his room, he stayed while he heard the children talking excitedly with the others. He took deep breaths in order to try to calm himself down.

Things were going well until he heard some squeeling noise. His mind suddenly went to one of the last battles on Cybertron. That sound, he heard it all over the battlefield as those he fought alongside as brothers were torn apart. The squeeling of the metal of his friends. He didn’t even think about his next actions, the next thing he knew was he was rushing out of the base quickly. The confused look of the others didn’t even register for him.

He drove out of the base quickly and as he drove he didn’t register the rules of the road. Hours later, he found himself in a deserted area with no knowledge of how he ended up there or how to return to base. He didn’t wish to show weakness by calling the others to ask for directions but knew he would need to head back.

The fact he was lost only escalated his fear and he felt like his spark was burning as the idea of being lost began to crowd his senses.

“Ultra Magnus.” Optimus said gently as he found him, “Are you alright.”

Ultra Magnus paused, he wanted to say everything was fine but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to his commander. “No, I must admit that I am not and I understand if you request I leave the team for my display.”

“No one is angry that you reacted that way, I simply reached out as I was concerned as a friend.” Optimus said.

“The squeeling noise I heard, it reminded me too much of a battlefield.” Ultra Magnus confessed.

“I understand and I can ask the others to be careful about it. The noise was Miko and Rafael testing a new computer audio program and it malfuctioned.” Optimus said.

Ultra Magnus looked away in shame.

“It is understandable why it brought those memories and you have done nothing wrong, I simply wanted to let you know that in this case there was no danger.” Optimus said to him.

Ultra Magnus nodded.

“Would you wish to head back to base?” Optimus asked.

Embarrassment filled Ultra Magnus again. “I must confess, I failed to pay attention to where I was and lost my way.” He confessed.

“I will return with you and we can sit on the roof of the base, it is a known area for those in the base who wish for quiet.” Optimus said.

Ultra Magnus, smiled at that. “Thank you sir.” He said.

They drove to the base and sat on the rooftop quietly.

“Would you like company?” Optimus asked.

Ultra Magnus managed to let out a nod.

The two of them sat in silence for some time.

“I always thought if I could just follow all the regulations, I would be fine; that I could avoid feeling like this.” Ultra Magnus confessed after a bit.

“I understand.” Optimus replied. “However you do not have to face these feelings alone. May I ask how long you have been struggling with it?”

“Since I arrived but it was manageable until a few days ago. I’m sorry sir, I don’t know why I failed to manage it.” Ultra Magnus replied.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Optimus replied kindly. “It is normal to struggle with these feelings and rely on each other.”

Ultra Magnus said nothing at that.

The two of them spent hours sitting in silence.

“Thank you.” Ultra Magnus finally said after a few moments.

“Anytime.” Optimus said.

[sisterofficerlucychen]

Chenford + 5x16 Tim finds out Lucy got him into Metro!

“Why do you know what the inside of Smitty’s trailer looks like?”

She doesn’t quite get the question at first, mainly because her focus is entirely on ensuring the minced garlic and onion she’s sautéing doesn’t burn but the fact that she’s blocked that entire ordeal from her mind doesn’t help. Cleaning Smitty’s RV was like some twisted circle of hell, one she hoped she wouldn’t get nightmares from. He hadn’t lied when he said it’d been a while since it was last cleaned and Lucy spent the entirely of three hours wondering how Smitty was even able to live like that. One bag became two, two became four, and by the end of the night, she’d taken our nine bags full of trash.

“What?” The question comes out in a small chuckle as she completely misses the point of why he’s asking.

“Smitty, Lucy. Why were you in his RV?”

She looks up this time, a puzzled expression forming across her features as her eyes lock on his and her brows furrow at the question. Tim moves toward her, shutting the door behind him until he stops beside her and she turns to face him. His jaw is hardened, gaze set with anger he’s trying to contain as he crosses his arms against his chest.

It takes her a second for it to click but once it does she knows he doesn’t miss the shift in her reaction as it settles inside her. How brown eyes widen and the soft smile on her lips drop into a frown, the way she’s at a loss for words as her lips part but no sound comes out. She can’t exactly deny it but there was a reason why she went against his back to shuffle all the different chess pieces so he’d end up at Metro.

He waits and it’s ultimately worse than anything else because the way he’s staring her down is something that actually manages to unnerve her. A combination of anger, disappointment, and betrayal. She can’t quite place it but she knows him well enough to know that the flame behind those sparkling eyes hold nothing but an array of negative emotions.

She opens her mouth to speak again but this time, she turns her back on him knowing that this conversation is going to take much longer than she wants and unless they want the LAFD to chime in because of a kitchen fire, the flaming pan on the stove will have to wait. Selfishly though, she uses it to buy herself an extra second or two as she turns the knob to shut off the burner and sets the burning pan aside before turning back to him to meet his eyes.

“I helped him clean it.” “You helped him clean it or you cleaned it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“I cleaned it.”

“Why?”

She knows where this is headed and she doesn’t like it. She cleaned it because she owed Smitty a favor, she owed him a favor because Smitty was the only one who could get Fuji to retire, and Fuji retiring opened up the opportunity for Tim. This is where he’s trying to get her to land on and she’s unsure if it’d be easier to just rip the bandaid off or give him a play by play of how they got here.

“He was the only one who could convince Fuji to retire.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Why?!”

“Fuji retiring was the linchpin. It was the only way to get you into Metro.”

“That wasn’t your call.” 

“Tim!”

“No! That wasn’t your call to make, Lucy!” His voice is a little louder this time, more irritated and she can sense how much he’s trying to keep his emotions in check. She tries to protest but he doesn’t let her get very far. 

“No! No, Lucy! You shouldn’t have meddled, that wasn’t for you to intervene! You had no right to play chess with everyone’s careers!”

“What?” she shakes her head at him because as much as she wants to understand, she doesn’t. She can’t. “I didn’t!”

There’s a defensive edge to her tone, the accusation feeling a little too personal and a bit too invalid. She knows this is what Nyla meant when she first warned her about getting involved but Lucy was adamant to believe that there was any world where this would backfire, it was the perfect plan. Yet, here he stands, actually upset at the fact that she tried to help him.

“No, no!” she argues, “I was helping you!”

“Really? Helping me? Please tell me how losing my entire team’s trust is helping me?”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“They think my girlfriend manipulated Fuji, Watson, and Hicks in order for me to get into Metro.”

“That’s not—Tim, no. That’s not what that was.”

“Really? Then what was it? Because it sure as hell seems like it, Lucy!”

“I was trying to look out for you! You were miserable at a desk job, you were one week in and you were already bored out of your mind!”

“But that wasn’t for you to decide!”

“Just like it wasn’t for you to decide to leave patrol? I was going to transfer Tim. I was set, I was ready, I thought we had both agreed on it and you decided to go tell Grey?! If you want to yell at me because I went behind your back, fine, but don’t act like you didn’t have anything to do with this when it was your decision that made me act on it in the first place!”

The expression on his face falls and she can see just how much it took him aback. He’s blinking, trying to digest what she just threw at him and Lucy knows it’s not exactly fair but he’s worked her up enough that she feels cornered and it’s the only thing that comes to mind because the thing is, he was the one who set the domino effect into place.

As upset as she is, as much as she hates how upset he is and the aftermath of it all, she’s not about to apologize for it. The truth is she’s not sorry for getting him out of a desk job.

“That’s what I thought.”

“Luc—“

“No, Tim. You can’t have it both ways. You can’t be mad at me that I intervened when you did the exact same thing. You don’t think I put anything on the line by doing that either? Do you think any of them are going to trust me again? Are you even going to trust me again?” This hits something that she wasn’t expecting as she sees a rollercoaster of emotions pass through him. She can see how he wants to settle on compassion, his jaw unclenching and his gaze softening at her before it morphs into something else: regret. He shakes his head as his lips purse into a thin line.

“I don’t know.” “Right,” she nods softly as she chews on her bottom lip.

There’s something eerily familiar about the situation, the emotions that envelop them being once she’s felt before when the situation was drastically different yet the way she was left feeling felt the same. She swallows hard to try and stop the tears that are welling in her eyes from spilling over.

“I should go.”

Don’t. Don’t leave me, she wants to yell. She wants to stop him, she needs to because she’s so afraid of where they’ve currently landed. It’s their first real fight and as much as she wants to tell herself that this is normal, it doesn’t feel like it. What if they can’t come back from it? What if she really did just ruin the most important relationship in her life? It’s her worst fear come to fruition as she stands there, watching him turn around and walk out the door.

No. No, no, no. There’s a sour taste in her mouth as it hits her how wrong this all is. This isn’t who they are nor who she wants them to be. They’re suppose to be the ones who make it, the ones with the stories for the grandkids, with the phones filled with albums of each other and their kids. This was suppose to be their first Valentine’s Day together, the first of a lifetimes worth. It was suppose to be romantic, sexy, and intimate, not whatever just unraveled before them.

It’s this thought that propels her to move. The determination to not let the love of her life slip past her fingers. He matters too much for her to just leave things as is. He’s worth the effort, that’s the entire reason she got involved in the first place. She needs him to know this, these were the words left unspoken when he asked and she needs him to know that she did it with the best intent. She just hopes she’s not too late.

It feels like forever between her running after him and actually tracking him down in the parking lot. He’s at his truck about to get in as she sprints across the lot to get to him.

“I did it because I love you!”

“What?”

“You asked me why. You asked me why and I didn’t tell you and it’s what I should have said in the first place. I meddled because I love you, Tim. I’m in love with you. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone as much as I love you and it’s terrifying, okay? You challenge me, you inspire me, you make me want to be the best version of myself that I can. You moved out of patrol for me and I was just suppose to sit there and watch you be bored out of your mind? You loved patrol. You didn’t hesitate and I—I couldn’t, I couldn’t let you make this huge sacrifice for me without doing anything for you. You asked me why I did it. I did it because you taught me that some things matter more. I couldn’t just sit there with my arms crossed and not do anything when I knew how much an opportunity at Metro meant. You matter more, Tim. You always have, you always will.”

That wasn’t exactly what she had in mind to say but she doesn’t regret it either. It’s the truth, the inevitable that was going to come out sooner rather than later because Lucy doesn’t even know when she fell in love with him, just that she did.

Yet again, she’s managed to leave him speechless and if the situation wasn’t so dire, she’d be amused by her ability to render him without words so often. Instead, she waits with her breath caught in her chest as seconds seem like years before he does or even says something. An infinity later the expression on his face softens and he’s staring back at her in a way that’s become like home. Her shoulders relax as small smile curves on his lips.

“You love me?”

“I thought that was a given.”

“You’ve never said it.” “I’m saying it now.”

He steps forward, his gaze never breaking from hers as he shifts a loose strand of hair behind her ear as his hands settles on her cheeks.

“Good because I love you too.”

[pellucid-constellations]

A Correspondence of Obligation - Nine

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: Obedience, duty, pristine smiles—raised as the princess of an oppressive kingdom, you knew nothing else. Your father signed your life away at the ripe age of five, black ink bleeding into a contract between nations, fate cemented with the flick of a quill. So when the time came to fulfill the promises you were too young to make, you expected much of the same in the land of Brookshire. But Prince James had other plans, as did the enemies looming outside the castle walls.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Angst, Bucky is upset in his POV™️, reader is going through it, we are all going through it

a/n: This is a tiny bit late, so thanks for sticking with me! I appreciate feedback so much, let me know what you think! Thank you for reading ♡♡

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

~~

A bleariness had taken over your senses. You knew you were in a room with four walls and a window that overlooked something, but the ringing in your ears made it hard to discern what exactly that was. It was a ringing that you knew stemmed solely from panic. 

It was frustrating to admit that you had given into everything. The men of this castle moved you somewhere, and you went. They told you to stay put, and you did. At least you had been able to catch that you were in a castle at this point; survival meant being meek, but keeping your eyes steady, just as Natasha had taught you. 

Bucky’s last words kept rolling through your head in an uncomfortable way, making you feel nauseous as you tried to calm yourself in this bleak room. He said he would find you, but that was moments before he was rendered unconscious in some back loading yard of the castle. 

Your castle—if you ever got the chance to go home again.  

You knocked your head back against solid stone, willing your thoughts to quiet and urging the breath in your body to calm. Every once in a while, there were footsteps on the other side of your door. They never stopped, but they lingered with a lightness. 

It was unnerving and comforting at the same time; a stranger providing a pattern. 

By the time the door finally clicked open, you were sure it had been hours. The sun that had been high in the sky was completely dimmed, and any warmth you had felt at the luncheon had vanished. But you weren’t in Brookshire anymore, so that was to be expected; there was a special sort of warmth there that felt irreplicable. 

It was a maid that entered. She wore a long wool gown, common for castle staff, and her hair was covered by a nondescript cloth. You brought your knees up to your chest upon her arrival, seeking an impossible comfort. She kept her back to you as she set a tray with bread and water by the window, and then, like the footsteps beyond your door, she lingered. 

You held your breath. She held her hands behind her back. 

Was this some intimidation tactic? You were already being held, and you were positive a ransom had been sent out at this point—from wherever you were. There was no need to scare you into compliance when you were so obviously the one at a disadvantage. But the maid still stayed. 

Until she turned. 

There was a small sense of recognition that flickered through you; something about her eyes made you narrow your own—a kindness that embodied them, even when she wasn’t smiling. You felt as if you could almost place her, but the ever-present terror in your body was making it too difficult. 

The maid cleared her throat, sounding as if she was struggling. “Princess Y/n,” she spoke, a quiver in her tone. “Do you know where you are?” 

“I do not.” Your words came out like sandpaper—broken and coarse. 

“Are you hurt?” 

Your head was throbbing and your body was so tired, but those facts were hardly pressing. Instead of being truthful, you gritted out, “Why would you care if I was hurt?” 

The woman before you paused, her knuckles turning white as she wrapped her hands into fists. She took a deep breath as if to steady herself, but it didn’t last long; heavier footsteps in the hall had her shaking her head in desperation. 

“Has it truly been so long? Do you not know who I am?” 

You shifted on the ground. The new stone was cold beneath you. 

“I don’t even know where I am,” you shot out, keeping your voice low, fearing those in the hall even when the person before you was still unknown. “I have only been to two kingdoms in my life and neither of them were here. I do not believe you know me.” 

The maid kneeled before you. “I know where you have been. I know because I have been tracking your movements since you were a girl. Y/n… think about this. Remember me.” 

She reached out to touch you, and you flinched back with a force. The hurt on her face was vastly misplaced, but something about it made your chest ache. In this strange place with so many variables against you, this maid was making you feel guilty. So you slid your palm back against your knee, and you allowed her to brush her fingers against your knuckles. 

It wasn’t instant; the feeling of her skin against yours was simply tactile at first. It would have almost been comforting if you were in any other situation. But then you looked up, and she did too, and you were struck with such an unimaginable rush of something in your chest. 

It wasn’t pain, but it certainly wasn’t happiness. It was simply a memory—the act of remembering—and it was so all-consuming that you were sure there was nothing stronger.

“Mother?” 

The whisper-like call was lost to a rustle of cloth and gasps and palms against stone. She hugged you, and there was never anything more comforting or more confusing. 

“I don’t—I don’t understand,” you stammered, tears in your waterline that refused to fall. “You were… you died. You were ill. Father mourned you. I mourned you.” 

Your head was taken between shaking hands, the maid—your mother—pulling back to look you in the eye. “He mourned my leaving, but it had to be done. We had to protect you.” 

You gaped. “From what?” 

She sighed, a hopeless look blooming across her face. She glanced back at the door with a rushed patience and you knew she wasn’t supposed to be here; that there was a rule she was breaking and that it would spell far worse than an empty room with stale bread. 

You gripped her wrist as she spoke quickly. “There has been a war brewing for countless years, tensions teetering on the brink of chaos. Queen Sharon’s mother was not… well. She sought power beyond her grasp and created armies in the image of that. Left her people to suffer while her men became ungovernable on the battlefield, ruthless. The only way we could placate her was by offering a bargaining chip.”

You blinked, hard, shaking your head at an alarming rate. There was no time to slow down—no time to let any of this information sink in—and it was dizzying. 

“She asked for you, as the heir. Promised that she would take you,” your mother admitted, eyes watering. “But there was never a world in which I would let that happen. Nor your father. I came instead, but the loss of a ruler made Hyland weak, so your father turned to Brookshire—as a safe haven for you.” 

“Father—father hates me. That is why he sent me away,” you got out, the only thing that made sense in this conversation. But something else made sense, a connection in your mind. “Am I in Madripoor?”

“You are. Queen Sharon broke our treaty by taking you.” 

“Treaty?” 

There wasn’t time; your mother knew that. The footsteps in the hall were growing more frequent, and she had come in here for a reason that did not involve explaining her apparent survival. She smoothed a hand down your head, gave you a longing look, and set back on track. 

“I will get you out of here,” she whispered, forehead pressed to yours. “The queen will come up after a meeting with her advisors, and I will be waiting for her departure. She doesn’t want to kill you, she just wants your kingdom. If I get you to the forest line in the night, there is very little chance she will waste resources trying to find you.” 

“Come with me,” you pleaded, grappling at her arms. 

She shook her head, a small smile pressed upon her lips. “That would be too obvious, darling.” The endearment sent several pangs through your heart, each for a different reason. “Let me get you out… get you back home.” 

“I cannot go back to Hyland.” 

“I wasn’t talking about Hyland.” 

A crash in the hall—armor, most likely a knight dropping his sword. But it was enough to set your mother into action. She stood from her place on the ground and sent you one last watery smile, bringing her hand to cover her mouth as you stared up at her, breathless. You went to speak again, but she was taking steps back before you could form a thought, saving the both of you from more pain. 

And then she was gone. 

You stared down at your hands, unable to fathom anything that had happened within the last day. It was all in your head but none of it was registering—not your location, your mother, your fate. 

You had been so sheltered, only learning about Madripoor once you got to Brookshire. Your father had kept you within the castle walls and you thought it was out of disdain, that he wished by some fate that you had been taken instead of your mother. But your mother was alive, and he helped send her away. For you. 

Every instance in which he hadn’t let you leave, every cruel thing he did to keep you at a distance, it was still aching, but part of it made sense. God, did Steve know? Did Natasha? 

Your head was starting to throb again, and so you thought of Bucky instead. You stood up in the otherwise empty room, and you thought of Bucky and the room he had made for you. The vines and the ivy and the way the sun reflected on art; you thought about his hands and their warmth against your cheeks when he kissed you. 

It was simple to think of him, even as your feet began to sting from your pacing across the stone; it was simple because, as you came to realize, loving Bucky was the easiest thing you’d had to do. 

The door creaked again, this time with a force that sent the knob into a supporting wall. You stopped pacing, or more accurately, your feet froze into the stone.

You hadn’t seen Sharon since that day in Bucky’s room, so to have her standing in front of you, looking disinterested as she held you in this room—jarring was not able to cover it. 

“I am going to keep this brief,” she snapped, arms crossed in the doorway. “You are here until someone from Brookshire arrives. Then, and only then, will you be released. To Hyland, where you will announce that your engagement has been called off.” 

“Do you love him?”

The words sounded foolish coming from your lips; they sounded young and naive as you uttered them in a room meant to be unfamiliar and cruel. You were reminded as much as Sharon scoffed at you, raising a brow. 

“Of course I do not love him. And if you were smart—if you were ambitious and a ruler—you wouldn’t be focusing on such trivial matters.” 

You searched her face, taking half a step toward her. “There are other ways to rebuild a kingdom, Sharon. You do not need to do this, it could mean war.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you know of my kingdom? A rebuild,” she scoffed. “We do not need to rebuild.” 

The door slammed with her exit. It took only a few minutes before you heard footsteps again. This time, they lingered. 

~~

He woke with a start.

Gasping for breath and filled with a panic he couldn’t place, Bucky grabbed at the sheets beneath him. There were voices in the room and he knew them—Steve, a few of the knights he kept close. He blinked to clear his vision, and confirmed as much. 

“You okay, Buck?” Steve asked. Bucky’s head throbbed. 

He must have had too much wine last night; there was no other explanation for the raging headache rolling through him. 

“I am fine,” Bucky huffed, bringing a hand up to lace his fingers through his hair—to tug at the roots and relieve the pressure there. 

It struck him as odd that there were so many people in the room, apparently waiting for him to rise. It took him another moment to realize how odd it was that he was in his own bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he woke and you weren’t beside him. 

Another moment, and he stood with an unbalanced fear. 

“Y/n,” he shook, hands flexing at his sides. “There were—there were people in the castle.” He shot his gaze up to Steve, already crumbling at the harrowed expression on his face. “Steve… where is she?” 

But Bucky already knew, because if you were home, Steve would have been with you. The only thing giving him an inkling of hope was the fact that Natasha wasn’t in the room. 

Steve took a step toward Bucky, giving the prince a clearer view of the redness in his eyes. “We don’t know.” 

“You don’t—?” Air was forced from his chest and Bucky fought the urge to yank his shirt from his skin to find comfort. “What do you mean you don’t know? How long was I out?” 

One of the knights behind Steve shifted, his armor clinking against itself and ringing in the silence of the room. This was torture; absolute, unbearable torture and everything felt amplified. Bucky could hear himself breathing and feel his pulse beneath his skin. He couldn’t stop shaking his head and it was rattling his brain. They didn’t know where you were. 

“A few hours at most, Your Highness.” Sir Charles finally broke the silence. “We have many guards out tracking the directions past the castle. It shouldn’t be long before we find their destination.” 

“How have we not found it yet? They took a carriage, there would be tracks.” 

Steve spoke this time. “We found the tracks, but we think they were throwing us off on purpose—sending their horses down random trails on their way here. Natasha is out there verifying the direction. She thinks…” 

“What does she think?” Bucky snapped. His throat felt as if it were closing in on itself. 

“She thinks they are headed for Madripoor.” 

The prince took a step back, and then another. He backed up until his legs were prone to the side of the bed once more, but he didn’t sit. He couldn’t. His mind was racing and his fingers were tingling from the blood rushing down the veins in his arms. 

“This is political then,” Bucky confirmed, but the fact did little to calm him. “Can we verify that this was connected to the first attack?” 

Steve paused at the unsteady nature of Bucky’s voice. “There is a meeting with the heads of state in just a few minutes. We can pose any questions there and—” 

“Can we verify—” Bucky seethed, mad at the world “—that this was connected to the first attack?” 

“We can’t. The first one was a band of hired mercenaries. This was more strategized. It’s possible that they were from this same source, but we can’t know.” 

Steve’s words were each a sharp pain in Bucky’s head. If they had been connected, at least he would have known that you weren’t being attacked from multiple sides. A political ploy was a nasty thing, but it was relatively safe; it had an end and it had its means. Everything else was more dangerous. 

Bucky white-knuckled the bedpost, his head still pulsing and his emotions still reeling. “You said there was a meeting?” he asked, words gritted between his teeth. 

A lower knight spoke up from the back of the room. “There is, Your Highness. All information gathered on the search will be discussed there.” 

Bucky felt his stomach plummet. He had been to meetings like that in the past, with important men sitting at a table, discussing others' lives like they were trivial. But this was you; you were going to be a topic of conversation, a meeting plan scribbled into parchment. 

They would probably have your itinerary for the day at the center of the table, and Bucky would have to look at what you had planned after lunch. He would have to look at everything you were going to cancel just so he could take you to that damn library and kiss you in between the shelves. Because that’s the only reason he had agreed so readily. 

He had been selfish and now you were gone, becoming a simple political conversation in your wake

A bout of nausea swept through his gut, and Bucky had to close his eyes before he passed out again. 

“I am not wasting time on a meeting,” he dismissed, finally looking Steve in the eye. “You know how those meetings go. I will not sit at that table while they discuss how many troops we should send out to save my wife’s life.” 

The knight in the back shifted uncomfortably, meekly getting out, “Prince James, you know we all want the princess back, but the king’s proceedings have to come first. Your father still has ruling power until your wedding at the end of the month.” 

“There won’t be a wedding if she’s dead, will there?” 

The icy bite of his tone had Steve straightening out with a narrowed gaze. Bucky knew he was being harsh, but it was the reality, and he wasn’t going to sit around and hope for the best while contracts and plans were signed at a long table. Court proceedings could burn if it meant your safety. 

“What’s your plan?” Steve asked, a hardness in his voice that had Bucky briefly questioning the duke’s training background. 

“I want Natasha to report here as soon as she gets back. I need every piece of information she has and I need it before she goes into that meeting,” Bucky instructed, eyes shooting to Sir William in expectation. The knight was out of the room in the blink of an eye. “I’ll take a horse. There can’t be too many of us or they will consider that an attack on their court and then we will have an even larger problem on our hands.” 

Bucky strode over to the cabinet by his window, pulling out swords and chain mail as he spoke. “Natasha will stay behind to attend the meeting and tell the advisors I am still incapacitated. It will be hours before they act on anything. I hope to have her back before then.” 

The metal rattled in Bucky’s hands as he prepared for something he could barely fathom. He had no idea what state you would be in, nor how difficult it would be to get you out, but he didn’t care. He would fight until his arms ached if it meant getting you to safety. The repercussions could come later. 

“Buck, you should know something,” Steve called, lingering behind Bucky with reproach. 

The prince turned in an instant, features pinched as he nearly choked out, “What? What else could there be?” 

He had already lost you; Bucky wasn’t sure if there was anything else that mattered. 

“I was in the throne room while they were preparing for the proceedings. They were talking about some treaty between Madripoor and Hyland. I couldn’t make out most of what they were saying, but it sounded like even the advisors didn’t know what it entailed.” 

“What are you implying, Steve?” 

“Nothing, I don’t know,” Steve groaned, the wetness in his waterline reflecting candlelight. “I just—I’ve known that girl my entire life, Bucky. What if we get there and they pull some rank on us that we don’t know about and she has to stay? I’ve never even heard rumors about a treaty between Hyland and Madripoor.” 

Bucky’s expression went from panicked to serious, the hardness in his jaw becoming apparent. He secured his blade by his belt and stood before Steve, clapping a hand on his shoulder that spelled out more than words could. 

“I don’t give a damn about any treaty in any capacity. The second she stepped foot in this court she stopped being some pawn to be moved around. I love her and I know you do as well. She comes home.” 

Steve offered him a smile, one that Bucky replicated even though neither of them reached their eyes. They shared a stiff nod as well, and Steve went to give orders to the few remaining knights as Bucky anxiously prepared for Natasha’s arrival—granted, that she even returned to this room at all; there was always the chance that she would do things the proper way and go to the advisor’s meeting. Bucky seriously doubted that. 

He swiped his thumb along the handle of his sword, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited. The engraving in the metal gave his finger a ridge to focus on, something concrete he could feel as the rest of him spiraled. He looped his thumb along the letters as Steve ordered a knight to prep in the stables. He mouthed the name as the door finally opened from the hall. 

You were a comfort, even when you weren’t there; your initials, always in his palm, something concrete. 

“They went to Madripoor,” Natasha confirmed, not even sparring a hello as she bounded into the room. “Ditched the carriage halfway but I saw the crest on one of the seats. And the tracks—although confusing—line up with that.” 

Bucky only took a moment to register the information, sharing the plan he had formulated with Natasha the second she stopped speaking. He watched as her face morphed from hardness, to hope, to a baffled anger. 

“Like hell I’m not going.” 

“Natasha—” Steve started, but she threw up a hand before he could continue. 

“You really expect me to sit back in this castle while she’s out there? Make Steve stay.” 

“Steve didn’t go on the search,” Bucky reasoned, itching to get to you now that the location was clear. “We need you to stay behind so they don’t know to stop us. Natasha—” he interrupted her as she took in a breath to argue, grabbing her arms with a pleading look. “—we need you to stay here. I swear to you, I will bring her back.” 

She furrowed her brows as her mouth twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. Bucky watched as she wrapped her hands around her hips and looked up to the ceiling for a long, painful second, before she sighed. Her next look was unforgiving—straight at Bucky as if she were seeing through him. 

“Bring her back.” 

“If it’s the last thing I ever do,” he confirmed. 

Natasha didn’t stick around for parting words or further plans; she was out the door after another scathing look at no one and off to do her duty even though it was the last thing on her mind. Bucky didn’t stick around either. After a quick look out into the hall, he was out the door and in the stables with a hard set plan. 

It was all he could do to not look at the barn cat that swatted at his boots when he went to his horses side. Alpine, you had named him, and Bucky had to apologize profusely to the stable hands that never agreed to a pet. But you had fallen in love with the damn thing the second it made its way onto the hay covered ground, and so he did as well. 

Now he was just a reminder that you were gone. 

Bucky kicked up onto his horse as the cat stared up at him.

She’ll be back, he wanted to assure, but Bucky could hardly predict the future. 

[copiousloverofcopia]

🦇Happy Halloween Ghesties!👻

I haven't had a chance to write anything new for this year, but I would like to share my Halloween fic from last year that deserves more love!

Commissions are OPEN, please see pinned post for Carrd info!

Candy Wrappers

t's Halloween night at the Abbey, Papa IV/Copia decides to spend it sharing his love of horror films with ghoulette Cumulus and a sister of sin. The 3 decide to watch John Carpenter's HALLOWEEN and pig out on candy while it storms outside.

Also available HERE on AO3!

Read Halloween fluff below the cut!

“Oh Lucifer! He is right behind her isn’t he? I can’t watch.” Cumulus cried, pulling the throw blanket up over her eyes, almost knocking the bowl of candy from Copia’s lap. The thunder roared outside, the lights flickering a bit as the storm rolled on past the Abbey. It was Halloween night and they wouldn’t have many trick or treaters this year it seemed. Copia was determined that they could still have fun. He had put in an old VHS tape of HALLOWEEN from his collection and managed to convince Sister Ren and Cumulus to watch with him. 

“God that mask is so unnerving.” Sister Ren said, grabbing another snickers from the bowl. Copia, nodding his head in agreement as he licked some residual chocolate from his fingertips. If it were up to him they would stay up all night and watch the classics. Poltergeist , The Exorcist , The Omen , so many horror gems he could muster from his collection. 

“I don't see why we couldn’t have just watched Ghostbusters or Beetlejuice.” Cumulus griped. Copia was starting to regret turning it on. It was a well known fact that Cumulus did not handle scary well, being the Abbey’s resident scaredy cat. Despite her Hellish lineage, she would prefer to see people happy and smiling, not so much cut up into little pieces–even if it was all just pretend.  

“Ghuleh, I did ask you if you wanted to watch…” Copia reminded her, she had gotten to this point of her own accord, “...you did say yes.” he said as Sister Ren passed him back the bowl of candy and rolled her eyes. 

“I know it just…It scares me.” Cumulus admitted, a soft smile appearing over Copia’s face. He took her hand in his, her face still barely visible above the line of the blanket. The lights flickered again–the flash of lightning filling the sky outside and the inevitable crash of thunder rumbling the old bones of the Abbey. Cumulus’s heart pounded as she gripped the blanket tighter, storms also not her friend.  

“Then we don't have to watch—” Copia began, pausing the movie. Sister Ren, was becoming aggravated with Cumulus’s whining and the continued stopping and starting of the film.

“Papa! I wanted to watch it though.” she pouted. Copia felt flustered, he didn’t want to upset either of them. All he wanted was to enjoy some relaxation after coming back from the tour and not deal with any more drama. This was proving to be quite the task indeed.  

“It’s ok, I’ll watch.” Cumulus yielded, nestling herself deep into the sofa between the two of them. Before Copia could press play the storms flickered, the lights off and on once more,  the movie restarting with the surge. Copia picked out a piece of candy, after rummaging through the half spent bowl as Cumulus curled next to him, her tail stiffened and tense. The movie continued and Sister Ren felt a sense of guilt pour over her. 

It really isn’t that big of a deal if we can’t watch this particular movie , she thought to herself  and then she remember something—a peace offering   

Hey… Cumulus…” Ren began, tapping the ghoul lightly on the shoulder to gain her attention, Cumulus turning to face her. “I’m sorry—Truly. We can watch Beetlejuice if you really want to and I almost forgot. I got you something.” Ren apologized, pulling a bag of strawberries and cream lollie drops out from behind her and passing them to the ghoulette–Cumulus’s favorite.

“Oh Ren, thank you.” the ghoulette beamed, throwing her arms around the sister, tail wagging behind her–tickling Copia’s nose. 

“Geez Cumulus don’t get too crazy over it, it’s just some candy.” Sister Ren said, Cumulus hugging her a bit too tightly.

“Oh sorry.” Cumulus said letting her go and realizing that Ren did care after all. The lights flickered off again. 

“It may not matter anyways if this storm keeps messing with the power, maybe I should send the boys out to help with the generator.” Copia began, when suddenly the power came back on and the screen lit up with Michael Myers weidling his knife, front and center!  

“Ah!” Cumulus screamed, quickly burying her face in Copia’s shoulder, sending the bowl of what were now wrappers flying into the air like confetti. The 3 of them were in for quite an interesting night indeed.

[elidoesntbreathwee]

Impulse At The Cost Of An Afternoon

It had been a lazy morning, a lazy noon, and the night before had been a lazy night, but Steve and Eddie deserved to have some peace and quiet, they thought - after all they had saved the world before, so why not sit back for a day.

Steve had a cup of tea -- only because he’d already had 4 cups of coffee of the last day -- and Eddie was sipping from a mug half filled with coffee while he read The Hobbit. Steve on the other hand, well he was just thinking. Thinking about a lot of things -- The kids, Robin, Nancy, Eddie, especially Eddie. He couldn’t exactly place his finger on what it was about Eddie, but he loved it - whatever it was.

Eddie shifted next to Steve - both on the couch -  now leaning against his shoulder. Steve wasn’t usually very used to touch, but regardless, he wanted to touch Eddie -- Hold his hand, or just have them brush against each other, comb his fingers through Eddie’s hair, though he doesn’t know how nice it would feel, seeing as Eddie’s hair was quite frizzled, his curls best described as crisp rather than soft, but it wouldn’t matter to Steve, because it would still be Eddie’s hair, and to be frank, Steve just doesn’t want the feel of Eddie to be a mystery anymore.

He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he finds himself not really caring what he should and shouldn't do. Steve lifts his hand, then wavers -- maybe he should think about this -- but he doesn’t, he moves his hand to Eddie’s hair.

“Steve-o?”

“Oh! Erm- uh...” Steve lifted his hand from Eddie’s scalp -- He knew this was stupid, he should have listened to himself.

Eddie smiled, moving Steve’s hand back. “It’s alright Stevie. Though I don’t know if you’ll like the rat’s nest.” He giggled -- And, oh god, Steve wanted to put it in a music box so he could listen to it whenever he wanted too -- Steve smiled back at Eddie.

Steve laid his hand down on Eddie’s head, lacing his fingers through his hair - combing his crimpy locks when -

“Owh!” Eddie yelped

“Oh- Oh my god I’m so sorry. Uh- Eddie…” Steve had worried glazed over his eyes

“Stevie? Steve? What is it?” Eddie was unnerved by Steve’s silence “Steve, what happened?” Eddie went to turn around to look, but he was stopped by something holding his hair, about mid-way through.

“... Oooh” Eddie said, drawn out, now realizing what had happened, setting down his book.

“Eddie. Eddie, I’m so, so sorry, I-” Steve began to apologize, when Eddie started laughing. “Eddie? Huh? Eds are you, like, about to kill me? Is that what’s happening?”

“No, no it’s fine, silly.” Eddie said between laughs, though now he had paused to catch his breath. “Wooh! OK, Stevie. It’s fine, you got nothing to be sorry for. Let’s just get your hand outta my hair, alright?”

Steve let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. “Yeah, let’s just do that.”

It took the two boys an astonishing 30 minutes, but after many trials they had conquered the mighty beast of Eddie’s mane of hair -- and all it cost them was a bit of the afternoon, a bit of Steve’s dignity, and the moment.

-The End-

-

hope u enjoy this silly little fic :) it came to me just cuz ppl always describe eddies haire as pretty and soft so i wanted to not do that lol and in fact do the exact opposite :P anyways a like or reblog would be SUPER DUPER APPERCIATED!!! love u <33

[owl-with-a-pen]

I’m gonna start by saying forgive me if I’ve already sent this ask. I feel like I might have but I have a bit of a memory problem so I’m really not sure. If I have ignore this.

That said, if you’re still taking requests I would absolutely love it if you did a scene that would fit into the episode featuring the courage totem where Brainy says he can’t wake Nia but we don’t get to see the process of him trying and realizing this. I saw in the tags of an old post you were considering writing about it so if you’re still interested that would be really cool.

This may be the latest prompt yet, but I just reached this episode on my re-watch and remembered this ask specifically. So again, anon, if you're still out there, I hope you enjoy!

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The moment Brainy touched down at the Tower, he headed straight for the training room floor. The elevator moved unbearably slow, uncaring of his plight even while he tapped ineffectually at the button controlling his descent.

All the while, his mind continued to work over the last hour’s events.

Alex and J’onn had been affected by something during that altercation – clearly – and yet Brainy was struggling to pinpoint a cause. Indeed, he seemed to be having a hard time thinking of anything. He was still unnerved by the punches he hadn’t been able to evade during the fight. Punches thrown by human adversaries, civilian adversaries, and for some reason he hadn’t seen them coming. Differential calculus had failed him in the moment, leaving him with a dangerous blind spot that had nearly cost him the safety of the citizens he had been meant to protect.

Perhaps he had been unable to predict their moves because they themselves had been dictated by an otherworldly force. Or perhaps this was Vita’s doing, somehow. The Kryptonian witch had been meddling inside his projectors not hours ago, although any trace of her had been expunged completely the moment she’d fled back to her crystal.

Which meant that there was nothing wrong with him internally; no matter how many diagnostics he ran didn’t change the facts.

No. He was missing something, he had to be. And he still couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get worse.

And, if that was the case, then Nia needed to be informed. She’d stayed local to the Tower to try and use her dreams to search for Nyxly, and while Brainy hoped she’s made more progress than the rest of them, he couldn’t deny that his main priority was an entirely selfish one.

Simply, he wished to see her again.

Things always felt clearer when he had the chance to talk them out with Nia Nal, and he desperately sought that clarity now. But Nia’s job was by far the most important if they were to gain any insight for the fight to come, and he could not allow his own feelings get in the way of that.

When the elevator doors finally shuddered open and Brainy stepped foot into the training arena made makeshift den, the sense of wrongness twisting his stomach didn’t lift as anticipated. In fact, it only seemed to intensify.

Nia was sat on the other side of the room, mostly upright on one of J’onn’s scavenged antique armchairs.

Brainy’s lips twitched fondly at the sight.

Over the last few weeks, Nia had been spending more time in the dream realm than she ever had before, so much that she’d become impressively adept at appearing otherwise conscious during her meditations.

Only her soft snores betrayed her now.

Brainy folded his arms, ducking his head with another suppressed smile. As much as it pained him to disturb her dreams, their current circumstances had made it something of a necessity.

“Nia,” he said softly, not yet at her side. Oftentimes, that was all it took to reach through to her. The sound of his voice always found her eventually. No matter how far into the dream realm she may have travelled, that had always been a certainty.

Today, however, something was different.

When Nia didn’t stir after the predicted one minute and fifteen second window Brainy normally left for her, a nervousness began to creep its way into his throat. He swallowed it down quickly, crossing the room towards her.

Even his proximity didn’t appear to dispel her dreams. When he was close enough, Brainy crouched down in front of her, tentatively taking his girlfriend’s arm, attempting to reach her. “Nia Nal?”

Nothing. Nia remained perfectly still, her lips half parted.

Brainy frowned, eyes skirting across her expression, intent on finding anything that might account for this abnormality in her sleep cycle. Nia’s brow was furrowed slightly, as though she was concentrating on something very far away. Her fingers were tense, curled inward, impressing strained lines into the leather armrests.

Most worrisome. The dream realm wasn’t meant to cause such an adverse physical reaction. Nia would often wake from a dream disoriented, the physical embodiment of her astral self coinciding with that of the waking world, but that occurred after the dream had dispelled, not before.

Brainy forced his breathing to still, taking his girlfriend’s shoulders, squeezing her with gentle reassurance. He let his eyes flutter shut, focusing instead on his internal enhancements. He had long ago put buffers in place to match up against Nia’s own energy frequencies, though as her abilities had grown, he’d found himself implementing more to prepare for any variations in which her powers might manifest.

He thought he’d known what to expect, but when his attempt at connecting with her was met with a powerful snap of dream energy that lanced down both his wrists, Brainy jerked his hands away with a hiss, shaking them out.

“Sprock,” he muttered, winding a protective hand around his ring finger where her energy continued to smart. He stared at Nia’s unresponsive posture, wide-eyed, a panic flaring inside of him so fiercely that it took every ounce of his self-control not to grab for her and shake her with all his might. Anything that might wake her.

But it would do not good. Nia was protecting herself from the outside world, her energy posing a physical threat against anything that sought to disturb her focus. A soft blue highlighted her cheeks, her gloves glowing a brilliant but dangerous shade. She'd travelled deeper into the dream realm than he'd ever witnessed, somewhere that even Brainy couldn’t reach through to her.

What had brought on such prowess, Brainy wasn’t sure. Had she found new certainty in her mother’s teachings, or perhaps she was responding to a vengeful trigger set in motion by Nyxly?

Either way, Brainy should have known, should have predicted this. By being attentive to her feelings, by being present at all. He was failing her, and he was failing himself by being unable to focus on probable cause, to outline anything at all with absolute certainty. Not with Alex, not with J’onn, not with this…

It seemed he needed… help.

Brainy nearly recoiled at the notion. He hated that feeling, the vulnerability that came with such uncertainty, but he couldn’t deny it any longer. Something was wrong, and if he was going to figure it out, he needed to alert the rest of the Super Friends to Nia’s current predicament.

He balled his hands together nervously before dipping forward, cupping the side of Nia’s face so that her energy bleached his palm. He sighed, pressing his lips firmly to her forehead, taking comfort in the warmth of her skin, the sweet scent of her shampoo.

“I will return,” Brainy promised her, his voice barely a crackle in her ear.

Nia remained unresponsive throughout, though from the tightness of her expression, Brainy knew her battle raged on elsewhere. He only hoped that wherever she was, she might have heard him. Enough to know that he was not leaving her. That he would be back. He would always be back.

He didn’t allow himself to linger a moment longer, otherwise he would never have had the strength to pull himself away. Instead, he headed back towards the elevator, twisting his ring close to his chest, still hot with errant dream energy, and made his ascent known.

[writeyouin]

Not sure if this counts because the ask box says its closed, but if its open: can i request gender neutral reader giving tfp optimus a hose down in his alt mode in their backyard after he treks through some muddy terrain? And reader is doing things like spaying him with cold water to tease him, but the wash is like a massage, and he ends up dozing off as reader soaps him up and cleans his interior as well Their relationship can be already established Thanks!

TFP Optimus Prime X Reader – Car Wash

A/N – Here we go, getting through plenty of requests while I cat sit so I don’t binge-watch the Umbrella Academy all in one go.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Optimus vented air through his systems, holding back an exhausted sigh as he drove you home in his alt-mode.

Normally, missions where it was just the two of you were a treasured time spent full of deep conversations as the two of you imagined a better, more peaceful universe where you could both enjoy your lives with one another. It was always a chance for the two of you to spend some quality time together, instead of stealing precious seconds between Optimus’ busy schedule.

However, your mission transporting cargo to a military base for Fowler had gone badly awry and neither of you knew what to say that would make things better. The simple fact of the matter was that Optimus was thinking about the fragility of human life after you had been attacked by Silas, and you in turn were thinking about how Optimus had risked his life to save yours without hesitation. While Silas was only human, he was still a dangerous foe and had his weaponry not stalled at the exact moment it did, Optimus might not have survived to take you back home.

Your depressing thoughts were interrupted as Optimus parked outside your house, taking up the majority of the street in his large alt-mode.

“We are here,” He stated with a sense of finality that unnerved you somewhat.

“Yeah…” You replied, dissatisfied that he would have to leave you on such a sour note. “What will you do when you get back to base?”

“I will continue my mission to protect this planet, and I will conduct further research on Silas. We cannot afford another repeat of today,” Optimus answered solemnly.

You placed your hand on Optimus’ dashboard more for your own comfort than his. It seemed that he was going to spend the next few cycles relentlessly working as usual. You knew that Optimus’ dedication to his cause was the reason that the Autobot rebellion had lasted so long despite their numerous enemies, and while you were thankful that Optimus was such a fantastic leader, you still worried about him.

“Optimus… I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d really like it if you stayed here for a while.”

“(Y/N), you know I have many important duties to fulfil.”

“I know,” You said quickly, hoping to placate him. “And I get that, but you need to rest as well. I worry about you. Please, just stay here and rest for a little bit.”

“But Silas-”

“Will still be around tomorrow,” You reasoned. “Besides, we have no means of tracking him yet.”

Optimus hummed thoughtfully, trying not to sound so defeated. You decided to give him a minute, just letting him feel the weight of his life; it was something he rarely let himself think about, and sometimes, he needed to remind himself that he was just one Cybertronian.

You Glanced in his wing mirror while you waited, unable to ignore the mass amount of mud, dirt, and gravel that coated him from the long drive. You half-smiled, getting an idea that might make Optimus relax for a short while.

“At least consider driving into the garden for a break,” You suggested. “A car wash here has got to be better than the wash-racks, right?”

Optimus considered your request, feeling somewhat guilty as he submitted. It wasn’t that he was doing anything wrong per se, but every second that he wasn’t working made him feel like he was failing his cause; Ratchet often told Optimus that was his fatal flaw, as if he too didn’t spend every nano-click working on his own projects for the war effort.

Optimus let you out, then drove into your garden, remaining in his alt-mode in case any of your neighbours came outside. He prayed to Primus that nobody would come to see what was going on because he didn’t know how you would explain your sudden acquisition of a Freightliner truck or why it was in your back garden.

While Optimus was stuck feeling guilty, you ran inside grabbing buckets and filling them with warm soapy water, with plenty of sponges and cloths to accompany them. Upon coming back outside and putting the buckets down, you grabbed the garden hose and started cleaning the worst of the mud from Optimus.

It took Optimus a while to relax, but after you accidentally soaked yourself with the hose and began laughing at your own misfortune, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment, your laughter raising his spirits.

Seeing you soaked and happy made Optimus chuckle, which by anyone else’s standard was a full-on laugh of hysteria.

“Oh, you find that funny?” You asked him, grinning. “Let’s see how you like it.”

You squeezed the end of the hose pipe, squirting a powerful jet of water at Optimus’ windscreen, grinning as you did so.

“All you’re doing is making me cleaner,” Optimus said jovially.

You rolled your eyes sarcastically, “Yeah well, I hope I miss some sand in your seams.”

With the ineffective water fight over, you got back to hosing down Optimus, waiting till the worst of the grime was removed before you abandoned the hose in favour of a bucket and sponge.

Optimus’ frame shuddered momentarily as you rubbed at him with the sponge. He was used to cleaning himself in the wash racks of the base, and while that did leave him pristine, it didn’t feel as good as having you clean him, your tiny hands reaching in between the seams of his plating. You were removing dirt from places he had never been able to reach before and it felt wonderful.

Optimus couldn’t help sighing as you cleaned his hood, using a step ladder to reach it. Once or twice, he nearly moaned aloud, though he caught himself at the last moment. You smiled contentedly, glad that Optimus was relaxing for once, even if you were messier than you had been in a long time thanks to the deep clean you were giving him.

“Is this good?” You asked him once you had thoroughly cleaned him and were free to massage wax onto his plating.

Optimus didn’t reply, your slow circular movements lulling him into a light recharge which he desperately needed.

“Optimus?” You asked uncertainly.

It took you a minute to realise what had happened, but when you did, you smiled, happy that he was finally relaxing. You continued cleaning Optimus, but when you were done, you were careful not to disturb him. It was rare to see Optimus resting and you didn’t want to do anything that might wake him.

“Good night, big guy. Sweet dreams,” You pressed a light kiss to his headlamps and left him in your garden.

You also needed a shower and some rest; it had been a long day for both of you.

Like my work? Buy me a Ko-Fi.

[verysmolnerd]

What a drag… Queen.

Putting Robert in drag

“I look-“ he was unable to form words, so you spoke on his behalf, “Hot!” He glared at you, but the redness in his cheeks gave away his true feelings.

You admire him in the mirror, with the padding you put on his hips and chest, it gives him a redefined look. Honestly, you find yourself gazing at his figure, even though you’re the reason why it’s there in the first place.

“You remember what you have to do, right?” You rested your head on his thick arm. He nodded, “Sing a Sinatra song and be… pretty.”You smile and slide on a tux, and you know he’s essentially burning a hole through your back with his stare. He’d rather be wearing one and standing right next to you, chatting amongst colleagues and investors.

But a bet is a bet, sadly. You bested him and this was the price. Putting him in a skilled slip job and tailoring the finest of feminine clothing. He knows he’ll be mocked, but he knows you well. Even if the gig is up, you always have another trick under your sleeve. One last gimmick

He looks in the mirror one last time. You did a flawless job, he should have you as a makeup artist… but he knows his stars would be after you if that were the case. His hair extensions are the selling piece, he looks like a model more than a drag queen.

“Ready?” You ask, holding out your hand. He hesitantly nods, taking your hand as you lead him out of the room and into the party.

It was just the crew, nothing more nothing less. The most dedicated and passionate group he could ever meet. They all raised their glasses and clapped.

You handed him the microphone and signaled the music to play. You can see him slacken as he starts to sing That’s Life.

Like always, his voice is beautiful. You’ve only heard it a he handful of times and you feel like you’ve fallen in love again every single time you hear his voice.

You sway with the music and he catches it, always looking to you as a source of comfort. The song soon concludes and the regular music picks up again.

He joins your side relatively fast, only having speak to a handful of people before being able to get you. By then, you were already holding a full glass of champagne for him.

He didn’t drain it like you anticipated, it seems he’s been comfortable in his own skin since the start of your relationship. So, you were quick to congratulate him, “You did amazing, I love hearing your voice.”

He parts the long hair in his face and sips the champagne. Even in his golden age, he still need the liquid courage after all. “Thank you,” he said after clearing his throat.

You held out your hand again, “May I have this dance?” He smiled and took you hand. It felt nice, being the one in charge. Robert is probably a bit too timid considering his current attire, so it’s a good change of pace for him to follow your lead for once.

You spin him, dip him while all his colleagues watch. Shocked that their boss has the current demeanor of a confident damsel.

After the dancing, came the dining. You can see him get comfortable in his own skin and even accept the compliments about his current appearance. Which he’s very hot and pretty in your eyes. He always is.

He even stated to enjoy it. Even batting his eyes when you attempted to flirt with him. Now he’s back at your apartment, standing in from of you. Waiting for the next steps.

“Being in drag was the fun part.”

“I suppose.” His response were blunt, his patience getting things.

“Now the real challenge is getting you out of drag.”

Oh boy. He was in for the long haul with this one… but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

(I’m slightly, unnerved by the fact that Alfred plays some historical figures and real life people in general. He looks so good, but something in my mind just doesn’t sit well with it. I kinda see it as the Hamilton fandom shipping historical figures with each other.)

[writeforfandoms]

Homeward Bound

Find my other fandoms masterlist

In which Kent is given a retirement in an alternate universe with no superheroes. 

Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of canon violence, ridiculous fluff. 

Word count: 2.3k

Kent Nelson x f!reader

Bonus to anybody who gets the reference at the end of the fic! 

Kent got one last look at Carter, watching his dearest friend’s expression morph from grief to rage. The pain in his body was a distant thing now. He'd accepted his fate.

Kent closed his eyes, exhaling one last time. 

Kent opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling above him, painted a blue so light it was almost white. He blinked. 

This… was not what he had expected. 

Sitting up was easy, and he spent a moment looking around the room. It was clean, with few personal affects around. Some art on the walls. Done up all in shades of blue. 

Kent reached for magic, to check what the hell was going on, and found nothing. His eyes shot open wide and he tried again. Same results. 

He had no idea where he was, couldn't access his magic, and his last memories were of being killed by Sabbac. Nothing made sense. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, retreating to the space inside himself where his connection to the helmet lay. 

There was no connection, not anymore. But he did find… an understanding, of sorts. A message, more or less, left for him. 

This was his reward for his many years of service. This man, this world, was an alternate to his own. This Kent was younger than he was, and had been dying of some disease. 

So Kent had been granted his place. A second chance at life, at peace, after his decades of work. 

Kent honestly wasn't sure what to think of this. But this was apparently to be his life, so he might as well get acquainted with it. 

The Kent of this world was an architect, well to do, with no real attachments. He'd been married and divorced, with two grown sons who had lives of their own and didn't keep much in contact with him. 

Honestly, Kent wasn't sure if he preferred that over his own mostly solitary existence. But this is what he had now. 

It didn't take him long to adjust and fall into a routine. He worked from home as he liked, set his own hours, accepted his own jobs. (Fortunately, the technical knowledge of this world had integrated into his memories, allowing him to actually know what he was doing.) 

This world had no heroes, no magic, no powers. Which had perhaps been the hardest thing to adapt to. Fortunately, the major historical events were the same. But a world without heroes was odd, and a little unnerving if Kent was being honest. 

So he adapted as best he could. He didn't have to worry about money or work. In fact, his biggest concern in this world was boredom. 

And wasn't that simply a terrible problem to have? 

Kent took to varying his routine, trying all the coffee shops along his route until he found the one he liked best. He altered his schedule to spend a bit of time there, people watching at first.

Some things, he discovered, truly were universal, including a love of coffee. In many regards, this world was not so different from his own. People had their lives, drank coffee, had their own concerns. Some were rude, some polite. It was comforting, really, the familiarity of humanity.

For a while, Kent was content to linger along the edges, visiting the same coffee shop often enough to develop a habit. He learned the names of all the employees who worked mornings. He learned some about many of the regular customers, as well. 

And then he bumped into someone as he was attempting to step away from a crowd. His front collided with your shoulder, knocking both of you a little off balance, and he lifted one hand automatically to help steady you. 

"Sorry," you murmured, gaze flitting to his and then away again. 

"No problem," he said with a little smile. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled in return, and Kent felt something stir in his chest. You adjusted the bag over your shoulder, other hand holding your own beverage close to your chest. 

"Doing some work?" He asked, nodding to the bag. Normally he would have left it alone, but… he found he didn't want to step away just yet. 

You smiled a little. "Yeah. Nothing too exciting. You?"

He chuckled. "Just getting a drink on my way to work," he murmured. "I'll be stuck in the office most of the day."

You made a face, humor in your eyes. "Ah yes, I know the feeling. Well, I hope it all goes well for you." 

"Thank you." Kent nodded to you, watching as you moved to the back of the cafe to sit at a table. He only shook himself when he heard his name being called, and he took his drink before continuing on to the office. 

He figured that was likely the end of it. He doubted he would see you again. 

But he did. For the next three mornings, he spotted you at the cafe. In line, or at a table, or once walking to the counter to get more cream. 

And he found himself curious. What were you working on? What work did you do that could so easily be done here? 

But he didn't approach. Not yet. He didn't want to be creepy, or inappropriate. It was with no small surprise that he found himself uncertain of his own social skills. 

In fact, he likely wouldn't have approached you. Except that you approached him one afternoon. Sick of the office and homesick and heart heavy, Kent made his way to the coffee shop and ordered a drink, and then found a table at the window to sit and stare outside. 

This world was just so… different. Not all good, not all bad, but different. And some days the differences crushed him, wore him down. To the point that he wondered if this truly was a reward… or a subtle punishment. 

"Excuse me?" The soft voice jolted him out of his own thoughts, and he blinked up at you. "I think you dropped this." With a kind smile, you held out a little notebook, one he used to scribble absent thoughts and notes in. 

"Oh." He blinked, hand raising to take the notebook almost without thought. His fingers brushed over yours and he swallowed at the feeling, a little jolt to his system. "Thank you, I would have missed this dearly." 

"It's no problem." Your smile widened. "I know I'd miss my notebook if I managed to drop it anywhere." 

Kent smiled, taking in the sight of you. You had your laptop tucked under one arm, that hand also clutching your drink. "Would you care to join me for a while?" He motioned to the seat across from him. 

You blinked and then nodded. "Thanks." You dropped into the chair, setting your things down. "Penny for your thoughts?"

He almost laughed. Almost. “Just thinking about life.”

Your smile turned playful. “Life, the universe, and everything?”

He did laugh then, quietly. “Not quite so lofty as that, although interstellar travel would be fascinating.” 

“Do you ever wonder about that?” At his raised eyebrow, you elaborated. “Life beyond this planet?”

“Not often.” He smiled a little to himself. Less now, in this universe, certainly. “I imagine we are far from alone in the universe. It is a vast place, after all.” 

“I can never decide if that’s comforting or terrifying.” 

“A blend of both perhaps.” 

You smiled. “Perhaps so.”

He motioned to your notebook. “Do you ever jot those thoughts down?”

“Not often.” You made a face, wry and a little unsure. “I don’t venture into sci-fi much. Fantasy is more my style.” 

“Oh?” Kent leaned forward a little. 

“Well. Sort of fantasy. Urban fantasy.” You ducked your head, chewing your bottom lip for a few moments. “I write superhero stories.”

Kent didn’t waver, even at the pang that shot through him, a fist around his heart. “What made you decide to write about that?” he asked, curious despite the pain. 

“I mean… they’re fascinating. A lot of them are physically so much better than a regular human, however that manifests. But they’re still people. They still have the same problems and they still have moral dilemmas and they still have their own issues to deal with.” Your smile was a little shy. 

“Very valid points,” Kent agreed with a small smile. “And regular people are every bit as capable of acts of heroism, too.”

“Yes! It’s a wonderful way to explore humanity.” You perked up visibly at his interest. “It’s a lot of fun having the characters interact and showing how they inspire regular people, too. I like to write about hope, I guess.”

His smile softened. “An admirable attitude,” he murmured. “Everyone needs a little hope.” 

You nodded, relaxing at his acceptance. “Do you read a lot of this kind of thing?”

He grinned and ducked his head a little. You had no way of knowing the cause of his amusement, of course, but he couldn’t help himself. “Not so much,” he said, a little cautious. “When I was a boy, I did. But I haven’t found time to read much for pleasure in the last several years.” Looking at you, he smiled. “Something I find the sudden urge to change.”

Your lips parted as you blinked at him, flustered. Then you smiled, shy but pleased, and ducked your head. 

Chuckling quietly, Kent pulled out his phone to make a note. “Is there an order they should be read in?”

“Um, yeah, most of them are chronological, and there are a few side stories,” you admitted. “The first book is Tales of the Sky.”

Kent added that to his note and nodded, setting his phone down. “Good.” 

“I hope I’m not, y’know, pressuring you to look, or anything…” You looked a little nervous, fingers drumming against the table.

“Not at all.” Kent leaned forward a little, holding your gaze easily. “My curiosity is entirely my own.”

Your smile was wide and pleased, and Kent felt it like a punch to the chest. “Well, let me know what you think. Unless you hate them. Then don’t tell me.”

“I highly doubt I will think poorly of them.” Kent leaned back again slowly, his heart thumping hard against his chest. “Although I hope you’re prepared to discuss the nature of humanity.”

Your eyes gleamed at the soft challenge, your lips parting to show teeth. “Always.” 

And that was all it took. Kent gave you his number after that, and the two of you were quick to take up chatting every day. Sometimes it was just an exchange of texts. Some days you met at the coffee shop. Some days you even had an actual phone call. (Kent was grateful that you didn’t seem terribly inclined to pull memes into conversation every day - he’d never bothered keeping up with the ones in his own universe, let alone an entirely different universe’s set. He shuddered at the thought of even attempting to understand them.) 

Topics of conversation ranged greatly, from superheroes and books to astronomy and life elsewhere in the universe to economics (mostly complaining about rent prices on your end) to hopes for the future. That conversation had given Kent a jolt as he realized he actually had hopes for the future, now. No more knowing. No more fate. 

It was both freeing and terrifying, in its own way. 

You were the one to ask Kent on your first date, a few weeks later. Kent agreed, feeling a sort of anxious excitement he hadn’t felt in… decades. 

But it was easy. So easy. Being with you, talking to you, bantering back and forth was perhaps the easiest thing about this universe, and Kent treasured every moment of it. 

And perhaps he did move fast, but he was well aware of the uncertain nature of life, of how quickly time could slip through his fingers. 

So it was only a year after the two of you met that he asked you to move in. He had the pleasure of watching you walk into his apartment for the first time, surveying the space with both awe and hope. 

“If I move in,” you started, softly emphasizing the “if”, “do you mind if I change a few things?”

Kent motioned expansively to the apartment. “Please, feel free. I want you to be at home here.” With him. 

You smiled, catching what he didn’t say, and slipped your hand in his. “How about a little trial period? I’ll come stay for a week, we’ll see how it goes.”

“Perfect.” He kissed you, soft and sweet, the bubbling in his chest intoxicating. 

You brought some things for a week… and never left. Kent arranged for your things to be brought over, ignoring your mutterings about expenses and that you two could do it. He had the money, and it pleased him to treat you. 

Plus, you became adorably flustered when he told you as much. 

Sitting on the couch with you one night, his hand absently rubbing back and forth across your shoulder as you cuddled into him, Kent could suddenly clearly see how this would go. 

You would stay. You two would marry, a very quiet ceremony that ensured your future was well taken care of. Kent would continue to spoil you in little ways. You would have all the time you needed to write. And the two of you would live, mostly happy, to the end of your days. 

Kent smiled and closed his eyes. That was the last of it, the last of the magic. And he was, finally, perfectly at peace with that. 

[skylarmoon71]

Amazon (Smallville) : Short Story - Chapter 2

“Kent,”

Clark's eyes shift from his seat as he’s having lunch. One of the football players stood looking anything but pleased. Chloe raised an brow and Pete looked ready to step up.

“You been eyeing my girl Kent.”

This teen is notorious for being the jealous type. He’s dating one of the cheerleaders and apparently that came with paranoia.

“Beat it Cole, Clark isn’t that type of guy.” Pete states.

Cole slaps Clark’s tray right off the table and Chloe lifts her arm.

“Hey you jerk!!”

Both of them look like they’re about to go to battle. Clark stands to deescalate the situation, except Cole’s entire face is now pressed to the table. They all jolt, stepping back.

You’re standing over the side, hand pressed to the back of his head. They aren’t sure what’s more impressive. The fact that you’re keeping him down, or that you’re holding your tray in the other hand.

You’re wearing that frown that seems to always be planted on your face and by now most of the cafeteria is tuned in. Cole is grunting, trying to get free, but your hold offers no resistance.

“Take your macho male crap somewhere else or I’ll make you eat the tray, you hear me?”

He still looks defiant, and you add pressure.

“Fine, fine!!”

You release him and he stumbles to his feet, looking a little unnerved. He sends you a look before rushing away. Chloe just laughs.

“That was awesome! Where did you learn to do that?”

“I grew up with a lot of siblings.”

It’s not entirely a lie.

“Sorry about your lunch.” You state.

He shakes his head.

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

You nod, then your eyes drift over your own lunch. You eye the sandwich, then lift the plate, placing it down right in front of him.

“Here, enjoy the rest of your lunch.”

You don’t say anything else, just walk away.

When Clark finally takes a seat, he just stares at the sandwich for a moment. That’s until he feels two pairs of eyes on him. Both Chloe and Pete are wearing a smirk.

“What?”

“I think someone has a crush.” Pete teases.

“There’s no way she has a crush on me.” Clark denies. Although he says that, his cheeks are becoming just a tinge red.

“He wasn’t talking about her.” Chloe inputs.

They both laugh when a brighter color begins to rush to his face. Clark says nothing, just eats his sandwich.

The remainder of the day is uneventful.

Like most evenings, Clark intends to visit Lex. He’s used to just walking in and seeing Lex doing something or the other. That’s why when he walks in and Lex has company, he feels like he’s intruding. Lex simply waves him over.

“Clark, come in.”

He’s a bit awkward.

“Sorry, I should have asked if you were free before I came.” Lex shakes his head to introduce his guest.

The woman turns around, and the teen that steps out from the side has his eyes widening.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hi Clark.”

You’re still wearing that overly serious expression and the woman smiles.

“Clark Kent, it’s nice to put a name to the face. (Y/N) speaks highly of you. I’m Diana Prince.”

You nudged Diana with a little glare at the statement, and she brushed it off, shaking Clark’s hand.

“Nice to meet you too Ms Prince.”

“Please, just Diana is fine.”

Lex is trying to hide his smile.

“Ms. Prince here is interested in joining my earth day initiative. The foundation is still very new, but with our collective companies it is sure to be a success. Since you’re here Clark, why don’t you show (Y/N) around while we discuss.”

“Yes, I’m sure she would like that.” Diana agrees.

You just roll your eyes.

“Let’s go, Clark. She’s just trying to get rid of me.”

Clark follows, sending Lex a look in which he returns with a subtle good luck.

Your steps disappear down the hall and you take in the portraits and other displays in Lex’s mansion. A few minutes in you notice Clark’s lack of commentary.

“You’re quiet.”

Your words seem to pull him back.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

You turn another corner.

“Last time you said that Ms. Prince wasn’t your mother. Is she your sister?”

He could spot the subtle resemblance.

That’s not really the question you expect.

Nevertheless, you answer. You literally know his biggest secret. If nothing, you could at least show a little good faith.

“My mother died when I was younger. Diana is my guardian. She took me in when she didn’t have to. I left home because being there just reminded me of what I no longer had.”

He suddenly feels like he shouldn’t have asked. Because if the story of your mother is that tragic, he can only imagine what you would have to say about your father.

“I never really knew them, my birth parents. I came here when I was really young. They sent me here to save me.”

You glance at him. There’s a look on his face. One that expresses that he wishes he could have shared those moments with them, even if it were his last.

It’s weird that you feel so comfortable around him. You’ve always been good at compartmentalizing. Keeping your emotions, friends, secrets, processing it all separately. There’s no one on this planet but Diana that knows your identity.

Well, now Clark.

“I never knew my father. My mother told me stories, but I have a feeling that’s all they were. If he were so honorable, he would not have abandoned his child. Maybe that’s why I’m so unhinged. He probably had a shitty temper too.”

Clark can’t help but smile at the statement.

“Is that why you made a scene in the cafeteria?”

“Maybe.”

You send a little smile and he chuckles.

“I appreciate it, regardless of the reason. Thank you.”

He stops walking, turning to you. You pause in place.

“You don’t have to thank me. Mortals are easy to restrain. It must be frightening being that weak. Back on the island he would not last a day.”

Clark has half the mind to ask about this island, but that might be a conversation for another day.

“We should head back.”

You nod, following him as you both begin to walk in step back to the main room.

As you’re walking, Clark steals a glance. He feels a bit satisfied that you aren’t glaring like you usually do.