#and when i walked in to request for emergency aid the person looking at my case asked for my pronouns

[fuwaprince]

When somebody only uses my chosen name while putting me down, it kind of makes me wish I didn't have a name at all.

And when somebody only uses my pronouns when they try to coerce me into something, then switch back to they/them when talking about me to anybody else, it kind of makes me uncomfortable af.

I sincerely do not enjoy being labeled or referred to. Being referred to is such a negative experience for me irl.

Yet not giving people a set of name/pronouns when they ask automatically seems to make them think you're secretly a serial killer trying to cover up something?????? Or like you're untrustworthy and must be hiding because you're a Bad Person instead of just not wanting to label yourself.

Can I just please not be forced to label myself for everybody else's comfort?

I feel like that information is so personally intimate anyways like unless you know me and we're close, why do you even care? I don't think it's necessary for the first stages of getting to know somebody even though in this culture we've normalized it to be that way.

Plus if I don't give you a name then I have the opportunity to earn one. Give me a name that you think I deserve and let it be what you honor me by instead! How about that? It's probably the only way I'll be comfortably perceived since some people will change my labels as they see fit regardless. Just call me what you like, I feel like my name/pronouns have been corrupted as is

[swordgrace]

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇, 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄.

⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ aegon ii targaryen x wife!reader.

SYNOPSIS: in the wake of his burning, aegon’s recovery is marked by rage and insecurities. he pushes you away, but it is your comforting embrace that he desires above all else.

anonymous request.

{ FORMAT: one-shot — requested by anon.

{ WORD COUNT: 7.4K.

{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), hurt/comfort, post rook’s rest aegon, aegon isn’t a good person but he’s tormented, unstable marriage, talk of insecurities, wound/scar descriptions, p in v sex, unprotected sex, gentle sex, body worship (m & f receiving), lots of kissing & comfort/reassurance, very desperate aegon, begging, sub-ish aegon, reader is on top, riding/cowgirl, mutual orgasm, fingering (fem!rec), soft ending + aftercare

{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is my first time writing for Aegon, so please be gentle + any feedback/critique on his character is appreciated! He’s quite difficult to write for. Either way, I absolutely loved writing this, and I hope that you all enjoy it, too! As always, thank you for your continued love & support. ❤️

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐚 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞. It spread its blazing roots to those cast within it, leaving them hideously scarred or deformed, or perhaps leaving them with nothing left at all.

Grand Maester Orwyle had said that your husband may never walk again — that he may never draw breath again.

The harrowing memory of soot-stained knights hauling your husband in on nothing more than a swath of linen tied to sticks, placing him gently onto your marital bed had haunted you for several weeks since its occurrence. You could recall the pungent scent of charred flesh, the ragged rasps of Aegon’s breathing, the labor and sweat of Maesters working tirelessly to save him.

It was the labored wheeze of his breathing that continued to linger within the recesses of your mind, a sound so hoarse and weak that you wondered if he would survive. Watching your husband become a shell of his former self was never pleasant — you wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, even your worst enemy.

Aegon showed a resilience that few thought him capable of — the will to survive, to endure and spite his brother served him well. Even if each breath made him ache and each step had rattled his bones, he continued to progress, showing an astounding level of improvement in a short amount of time.

Fire was the end of all things, but not for him.

The observant gazes of those denizens dwelling within the Red Keep often looked upon Aegon with despair, and perhaps pity — it was a pity that he despised, one that made him quiver with rage. He had been made a cripple by his brother, an undesirable.

No one would want him now — not even you, his resplendent wife, a dutiful creature who had solemnly stood by his side, even after his numerous sins he committed against you. He was burnt and ugly, half of his face marred by a web of scars, ear twisted, silvery hair missing on part of his skull.

It was contempt that fueled him now, and he continued to play the part of a wounded, forgetful dog whenever Aemond was near, but in the sanctity of his chambers, he cursed his brother to whatever Gods would hear him.

If they heard him at all.

With each passing day, Aegon regained strength, yet he used a cane to aid in his unsteady gait. He rarely emerged from his chambers, not wanting to be looked upon as if he were some wounded animal in-need of coddling. Wallowing within his own misfortune became commonplace.

You visited him each day when he was still unconscious, sitting by his bedside, holding his hand within yours, yet Aegon had convinced himself that you no longer loved him. What woman would sensibly love him, after everything he’d done? If you were intelligent, you would dissolve your marriage and find a new lover, cast him into the shadows where he belonged.

Aegon had forbidden you to see him for weeks now, likely out of his own fear of rejection, or seeing the horrified look on your face with his own eyes. Orwyle spoke of your tenderness, how you never left his side when he lay bedridden — he could scarcely fathom it, if he were honest with himself.

The evening was a dour one in King’s Landing, marked by the encroaching threat of war, and supposed riots that had broken out across the city. Aegon sometimes laughed to himself — Aemond never cared about the smallfolk nor their desires, and his former hand had discouraged him from catering to those less fortunate.

It gave him some twinge of satisfaction, knowing that he wasn’t that stupid — not as dull and thick-headed as so many believed him to be. The burden of being King had been forced upon him, even when he never wanted it, and so he had no choice but to simply adapt.

He molded himself to a role that never belonged to him anyway, attempting to fit himself into a puzzle that he was never in to begin with.

Acceptance — he had come to realize that perhaps, unseen forces had tarried and toiled to put him on a Throne that wasn’t his birthright. Even then, Aegon was still the King — but a broken one. Who would ever look to a shattered King for guidance, or to lead them?

Dusk blanketed the city, casting its shadow over the Red Keep, a starless sky — it was instead marked by the black haze of clouds that concealed all, even the moonlight. The Keep itself seemed wrought with tension, one that threatened to snap at any moment.

With Aemond on some warpath, the smallfolk calling for blood, and his own mother dismissed from the Small Council, part of him simply thrived within the chaos, the mess made by his younger brother. It was satisfying to know that even he was not fit to rule — not like he imagined himself to be.

His walk around the corridors had been cut short when he caught a glimpse of Aemond, with Orwyle taking him back to his chambers. Aegon could walk without assistance, yet the distance was never one of any merit.

Much of his unoccupied moments were spent drowning in Dornish Red, or perhaps the most surprising thing of all, reading. He was never the studious child — he preferred merriment and whoremongering over the study of High Valyrian and the histories. Being gnarled like this had forced his hand — perhaps he could still become a learned man.

The Kingsguard he had appointed were gone, sent to join the Night’s Watch or beheaded for insubordination — he had no friends here, nothing left except himself and his mind, still perfectly intact. Now, Aegon intended to sharpen what was left of it, if he could in such a short amount of time.

He spent many of his days in fear — fear of Aemond poisoning his drink or slithering into his chambers like the fanged viper that he was to torment him, or perhaps stick Aegon’s Dagger into his chest. There was time left still for his mad cunt of a brother to finish what he’d started.

As the doors to his chambers rattled, Aegon immediately grabbed the shortsword he kept alongside his cane, breathing becoming strained and heavy. “Who is it?” He barked, palm planted against the sturdy mahogany of his large table.

“The Queen, your Grace.” Ser Belgrave, one of the last decent Kingsguard left in the Red Keep, opened the door just enough for you to see your husband, alive and conscious. He stood watch for a beat, and then closed the doors behind him, leaving you alone with Aegon.

Aegon didn’t know what to say — he was rageful and bitter, and having you here to gawk at him did nothing to quell those feelings. He did admire you from across the room, taking in the plane of cerulean silk you wore, shrouded by a pale robe. Your eyes were indiscernible — he could not tell how you felt from where he sat.

You were, perhaps, the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon — and he had seen so many. He recalled when he first saw you in the Grand Sept in your wedding gowns, so shy and saccharine, like the first warmth of springtime. It wasn’t a union he cared for or desired, but duty demanded that he wed you, and you would give him heirs.

So much of his time was wasted in the arms of whores who cared for nothing save the size of his coin purse, when it all should’ve been dedicated to you — the last person who truly cared for him.

“Aegon,” There was not an ounce of reproach within your voice, and instead, it was all a breathy sigh of relief. You had only seen him in-passing, walking alongside Grand Maester Orwyle or Lord Larys Strong. He had not allowed you to see him fully, until now. “I …”

“Save your pity,” Aegon quipped, turning away from you as he turned inward upon his books, instead. Gods, he felt wretched for constantly causing you such agony, but he could not endure the sight of you seeing him. “Have you come to see the withered King?” He mumbled, voice riddled with disdain.

Aegon was not an easy husband — and your union had been fraught with strife, hallmarked by his love of whores and wine, his absence felt by you each and every moment. You had passed this off as reality — this was what marriage was, and you had no choice but to accept it or crack beneath the pressure.

Even now, you were willing to forgive him.

Instead, you gathered your skirts and inched closer, longing to look upon him again with your own eyes. He had always been a beautiful man, so handsome with those regal Targaryen features that it often stole your breath away — and that hadn’t changed.

“I missed you,” You confessed, and it made Aegon’s throat become unbearably thick. Tears stung his eyes, tears born of frustration, an inner hatred and disgust, a disbelief that you truly meant any of this. “I thought that I could stay with you this evening.”

“No,” Aegon retorted, voice trembling at the bottom of his throat as he shook his head. “I do not want you here. I forbid you from seeing me. What part of that do you not understand?” His rage swelled — but not at you. He was so angry with himself that it began to manifest in uncouth ways.

It stung you, but not as much as you thought. Aegon kept you away, pushed you out to arm’s length because he feared what you might think of him. Being beloved and liked by those around him, the desire for attention and adoration, was perhaps one of his greatest flaws. When he could not find validation, it was easy to find it with a whore instead, or in the simpleminded lickspittles.

If Dornish Red could talk, perhaps he would find whatever comfort he sought there, too.

He reached for his goblet of wine, hand unsteady as he held it to his lips, and even then, he looked absolutely pathetic when taking a swig. “I cannot even drink without looking fucking pathetic,” Aegon snarled, letting out a bark of humorless laughter. “I cannot walk without being gazed upon like a wounded animal.”

At last, you began to understand where this anguish came from, where it all manifested. As much as you pitied your husband for the tragedy that had befallen him, you admired his resilience, his desire to endure and push on, even if it was most unpleasant.

“Aegon …” As your soft palm reached to rest against his shoulder, he violently jerked away, recoiling as if it were you that had burned him. “I am here for you. We are still married — allow me to continue to be your wife.” You whispered, flinching when he let out a sardonic laugh.

The scars were everywhere, enveloping half of his body, still aching with a dull pain that he muddied with poultices and Orwyle’s draughts. Aegon refused to take Milk of the Poppy, enduring his agony in different ways, ones that many would consider to be harder.

“Gods, how cunning you are — you play the role of naivety so well,” Aegon hissed, attempting to pull himself up from his table, hand reaching for his cane. “I am burnt, I am disgusting, and I am a cripple. You are not here for me — I do not want your pity!” He growled, voice raising to a tempestuous level.

You did not press him further, but you could see the tears glistening within his lilac hues, spilling down his cheeks as he began to laugh. The sound was grating and hollow, devoid of any amusement — just emptiness. He used what momentum he had to stand, grip ironclad and white-knuckled around his wooden beam of support.

“Why must you continue to push me away, Aegon? Have you not done it enough?” You questioned, voice sharp and wrought with emotion, sentiments that you had been repressing for so long, for the entirety of your marriage. “Must I always justify why I want to be your wife? We are married — I love you.”

Aegon froze, tears spilling over his face, countenance one of complete and utter bewilderment. He could not discern if you were genuine or simply conniving, or if you were being true. You had told him that you loved him before, and he always cast it aside — maybe you had truly meant it all this time, and he was too indifferent to realize it.

His back was partially turned to you, as if warding you away from seeing him. Aegon had been made to think that he was a failure all his life, that he was insignificant, made to do nothing instead of act. Whenever he did act, it was impulsive and reckless, branded acts of stupidity.

Maybe the one thing he could do right was you — mend the divide, mend the bridge that had kept you distanced for so long.

That cold, bitter laughter soon dissipated into what were choked sobs, ones of despair — he had been holding himself together for so long, for the sake of the realm, for the sake of a family that cared so little for him. His body ached and trembled, and as much as he attempted to move away from you, he couldn’t.

The nearest settee happened to be where he fell, landing against the velveteen cushions, head hung in despair, body wracked with sobs. He was undesirable, undeserving of you and your love. He was some withered husk, a shell, a monster still dressing in the clothing of a King — he was nothing.

Yet, you made him feel like something.

Silently, you crossed the cold stone to join him on the settee, sitting at his side as you gingerly let your palm settle against his back. “You underestimate how much I still care for you, husband.” You whispered, caressing along his spine with a feather-light touch.

Aegon felt drawn to you, pulled into the warmth of your comforting fire, knowing that if there was still one person left in this world who cared enough, it was you. Tears stained his visage, leaving behind streaks of red, eyes wet with many left unshed.

“Why should you?” Aegon questioned, his voice beginning to lose the fury and rage it held before, and it was melancholy. Anyone would’ve asked themselves such a question, but you didn’t — you remained steadfast. “I have brought nothing but misery upon you.”

It was complex, his statement — you had been miserable for some time, but this tragedy that afflicted you both was something worth overcoming. You were beginning to see the true Aegon, the one buried beneath the weight of the crown, the weight of inferiority.

“There is still time for forgiveness.” Your words were poignant and soft, and they were enough to move Aegon to tears again. He sat there beside you, crying to himself, breaking down completely. You had never seen him like this before — and perhaps, it was long overdue.

The comfort you provided was one he so desperately sought, even if he felt so guilty. He hadn’t done anything to deserve this, to deserve you — and yet he welcomed the grace of your palm, the sound of your songbird’s voice, soothing him with your gentle smile.

He was ashamed for you to see him this way, a man lacking the strength of physicality, the strength to hold a shortsword. It often wavered within his grasp — he would never be able to protect you. His beloved dragon was left in ruins, recovering in the Dragonpit — everything he had that made him strong had been taken.

Aegon was terrified to look upon you in such close quarters, afraid to feel the bitter jab of rejection, the horror and abhorrence within your gaze as you found his scars. He dared not turn, only keeping the intact side bared to you, still perfectly handsome.

Orwyle had harkened this to some miraculous recovery, a sign that the Gods favored him — Aegon did not feel favored, nor did he feel that he deserved it. Whatever he used to think, that his father wheezed his last breath desiring him on the Iron Throne, was nothing more than a twist of words.

There was nothing miraculous or prophetic about him — he was a sad, drunken cripple left to rot.

As much as he commiserated over his woes and the foul hand dealt to him by his brother, Larys had convinced him to live out of spite — and you convinced him that being alive, even in this wretched state, was a reality that was worth seeking.

He nearly crawled away at the sensation of your fingertips brushing along his jaw, unmarred and unscathed by the garish tangle of scars. Aegon shivered at your embrace — he had gone so terribly long without it, wondering if he would ever feel it again.

“I remember when I saw you for the first time, in the Grand Sept — I thought that you were the most resplendent man that I had ever seen,” You crooned, feeling him nudge his cheek into your palm. You gently swiped away a stray tear beneath his eye. “You still are.”

Aegon scoffed — a bitter, vitriolic sound that made his breath turn hoarse for a moment. He found it incredibly difficult to believe you, to find any merit in what you said given the circumstances. Even if you still loved him, that did not include his horrific appearance.

Tears trickled down his face, ones that you collected with your thumb before he shook his head. “Do not patronize me,” He murmured, visage furrowing together. “You cannot mean any of that. Look at me,” Aegon hissed, only slightly turning towards you. “I am a loathsome creature.”

His misery was an understatement when it came to his appearance — he looked like some monster, gnarled and withered beyond recognition. Whenever he looked into the mirror, he screamed and raged until he fell, or perhaps lost his voice.

Any Targaryen was often regarded as beautiful — pale, platinum tresses and lilac hues, a countenance as regal and as beautiful as a god. He was nothing more than a cockroach, now. He couldn’t fathom that you still desired him in a conventional way.

With a soft, tender touch, your hand then moved to rest against his shoulder. “If there is a loathsome creature here, I do not see it,” You murmured, head canting to one side. “What must I do to convince you, Aegon? Do you not believe me?”

Aegon’s trust had worn so thin that it threatened to snap, threadbare and nonexistent. He could only allow himself to trust so much — everyone he thought he could confide in or rely on had now turned against him, or attempted to slaughter him.

“It is hard to believe anyone anymore.” He murmured, staring down at his hands — one trembled, wreathed in burn scars, and the other clenched into a tight first.

He was made to believe that he was the rightful heir over Rhaenyra, when that was never the case. He was made to believe that he was a good ruler, when his Small Council plotted behind his back without his knowledge. He believed that Aemond was loyal to him, that he loved him as a brother would.

Lilac hues flickered from the void of his chambers to you, peering at you from beneath the curtain of pale tresses that still clung to his head. Despite the accusations of disloyalty he had hurled at you, his mistrust and doubt of your true intentions, you still maintained an amiable gaze.

You stared at him as if he had moved mountains, pulled the stars from the heavens for you — and he realized that no one, besides you, had looked at him in such a way before. It was profound and affectionate, wrought with a palpable adoration that came from a deep-rooted place of good.

Aegon’s throat grew tight, thick with emotion as he drank you in, tracing over the delicate plane of your features, the spark of warmth that brightened your eyes. Such divine beauty that he had robbed himself of for so long — he only felt like a fool, the greatest fool there was.

With an unsteady, quivering hand, he hesitantly reached out to you, unburnt fingertips tracing the curve of your jaw. He sucked in a sharp breath whenever you shuddered, face turning inward to press a kiss against his palm.

“I want to see you, husband.” You whispered, grasping his hand with both of yours, digits oozing with the radiance of heat that blossomed from you. The burn scars were carefully concealed behind silken garments, hidden from sight. Aegon grit his teeth together, not wanting you to see how disfigured he’d become.

“No,” Aegon quipped, shifting away from you with a scornful, wary expression. Whatever handsomeness he possessed before, it had all been burned away, turned to ash — and it left him, this husk of himself, with a physique that was repulsing to behold. “There is nothing pleasant about it — it is rotten.”

Rotten was perhaps a vast exaggeration for his wounds and scars, something that you found to be perplexing. Scars did not bother you, and you wouldn’t let your husband’s insecurities dissuade him from your comfort and care. Still holding his hand, you moved closer, pressing a kiss against his knuckles.

Aegon shivered beneath the chaste kiss, wanting nothing more than to collect you into his arms. The gnawing fear of your potential repulsion made him hesitate, and the bitter stab of rejection seemed to dig into him more than anything else.

“What woman would want this?”

Aegon’s forlorn, despondent inquiry hung above the both of you like some dour cloud. His grim outlook was something that you could sympathize with, given that his appearance had been torn apart within an instant. He swallowed the sob building within his chest, violet hues glistening with wet tears.

At last, he looked at you fully, exposing the marred, scarred side of his visage, tangled with a web of textured burns. His eye was sunken in, vessels having broken the white around his iris, ear nearly missing entirely, countenance partially mottled.

It was the same with his body, nearly half of it covered in the same fleshy web, scars spreading out like the roots of a tree. Aegon looked to you with a shattered expression, one that possessed a vehement swell of rage and frustration, yet still retained a sense of desperation. He was desperate to have your approval, for you to tell him that he was still perfect, regardless of his disfigurement.

Without a word, you moved your hand toward the maimed side of his face, expecting him to rip away or recoil entirely. Instead, he stayed there, rooted in-place, shuddering when the softness of your palm cupped his jaw. The pad of your thumb gingerly raked over his cheek, feeling along every scar and rough surface.

“I want you, Aegon,” The soft, silky resonance of your voice had brought him to heel, gaining his subservience, despite his inner battle with his insecurities. He feared being ugly in your eyes, as if his heart weren’t black and decayed enough. “I want you still.” Your lips twitched into an amiable smile.

For a moment, his eyes had fluttered shut, and he soaked in the sensation of your touch, warm and real against his cheek. It felt incredible, something he had craved for so long — it had left a gaping hole within his chest. Any tears that fell, you collected them with your fingertips, swiping them away.

Again, you inched closer, leg-to-leg with him, gaze drifting towards his lips. Aegon did not dissuade you from it, breathing becoming somewhat laborious as you pressed forward, mouth molding against his. It had been a long time since you had kissed him — truly kissed him.

A low, stirring groan reverberated within the depths of his throat, and at last, he reciprocated. Aegon’s kiss was done in a flurry of passion, realizing what he hadn’t had for so long. You tasted saccharine, warm and soft against him, mouth pliant and willing.

Gods, how blind he was — foolish, fragile, moronic.

He had abandoned you for unattainable things, for insignificant people that cared little about his wellbeing. Aegon had you — you, so devoted and loyal and forgiving, even when he deserved none of it. He very nearly sobbed again, knowing what error and sin he’d committed against you, but he shoved it down.

His insecurities seemed so small, as if they were wiped away by the curve of your mouth that so desperately kissed him. Aegon moved his good arm, bringing it to the swell of your hips, feeling your supple physique through the thin silk of your nightgown.

A sweet, simpering moan bubbled within your throat, a sound that so clearly vocalized your desperation for him, your repression and longstanding suffering. “Aegon,” You whispered, sending tremors down his spine as he kissed your jaw. “We don’t have to, we — you’re in pain.” You didn’t want to subject your husband to such agony.

Aegon shook his head, willing to push through the dull aching if it meant that he could have you again. Despite his fractured confidence, you made him feel so strong again, as if he still looked as he had before the burning. “Fuck agony,” He panted, hot breath fanning across your flesh. “I need you.”

That was enough to send a surge of molten heat throughout your belly, thighs rubbing together to alleviate some of your mounting arousal. “To bed, then.” You whispered, and Aegon swore that he moved quicker than normal, as if you had rejuvenated in some mystical way through words alone.

Using his cane to support most of his weight, he sluggishly walked toward your marital bed, feeling you hover around his side. You did not help him, and he didn’t want it, anyway. He was growing stronger by the day, capable of making it to his bed without support.

Fresh linens, silks, and feathered pillows had replaced ones used yesterday. It was all clean, smelling of lavender and honey. As he sat along the edge of the bed, he nearly chuckled at all of this — finally laying with you out of desire, and not duty, looking positively abhorrent.

If only it hadn’t taken him so long to get here.

“Are you certain, Aegon? I do not wish to hurt you, I —” Before you could prattle on about your concerns, Aegon silenced you with a kiss, coaxing you down by his side. His lips remained unblemished and unburnt, the taste of Dornish Red and sugar permeating his tongue.

“You won’t,” Aegon uttered, lilac hues raking over you, hungry and rapturous. “And if you do, you will not stop until I tell you to.” His tone retained a sternness to it, one that pleaded with you to allow him to drown in your affections, just like he always wanted.

With a gentle nod of your head, Aegon pushed your tresses away from your neck, thumb caressing along the column of your throat before he pressed a kiss there. You scarcely recalled the last time he’d done something like this, but you weren’t about to protest.

He wanted to hear your sighs and sweet whimpers, the sound of his name, breathy from your tongue. Aegon did not have the stamina he used to, but he would rather damn himself instead of stopping so quickly. He kissed and bit at your neck, soothing each mark with the languid lap of his tongue.

Gods, that sound — Aegon delighted in listening to your soft, wanton moan, pearlescent teeth nipping at your sensitive skin, kissing wherever he could reach. His burnt hand trembled, the flesh tender and still pulsating with a dull ache, but he elected to ignore it as best as he could.

Your hand pressed against his unmarred thigh, gripping into the flesh there as he groaned against you. He had finally gotten rid of that horrid, lengthy nightshirt, back to linen trousers and a silken, emerald tunic. His growing erection wasn’t subtle in the slightest.

“Let me see you.” Aegon murmured, wanting to look upon you with renewed eyes. You had always been beautiful to him, but now, you were captivating — a goddess incarnate, come to grace him with your presence. He watched as you stood, unraveling your robe as you draped it across the foot of the bed.

His mouth became dry, desire swelling within him like the urgent crash of a tidal wave. Aegon’s violet gaze remained transfixed, unable to tear themselves away from you and your perfection.

You stood in between his legs, shedding the thin, sheer gossamer of your nightgown, allowing it to pool around your feet before you nudged it aside. The last time you had undressed for Aegon, he was drunk and needy, several months ago.

His intoxication was of a different sort now, drunk upon your resplendence, your beauty, living and breathing before him. Aegon gripped your hip with his good hand, learning forward to press kisses all along your abdomen and stomach.

The sensation of your hand, so gentle and sweet, slipped against his marred cheek, gingerly caressing over his uneven web of scars, encapsulating over half of his skull. Aegon nearly groaned at your heavenly touch, the touch of a wife who loved her husband, scars and all.

He did not feel so monstrous anymore.

Aegon turned to press a kiss against the inside of your wrist, savoring the feeling of your fingertips roving across his scars. It was only when you moved to kiss the top of his head that he nearly faltered, breath warbled and wavering, surprise settling into his features.

He moved back, countenance twitching with pain for a fleeting moment, finding comfort within the silken duvet and soft sheets of your shared bed. You nearly moved to sit beside him again, but he stopped you, swallowing the growing lump within his throat.

“No,” Aegon whispered, tone a low, husky resonance, strung out with desire as he coaxed you into his lap with certainty. “Come here.” Those lilac hues were blown-out with lust and bewilderment, enthralled by you as he felt you settle down against him, thighs firmly caging him in on either side.

A grunt stirred within his chest, a dull throbbing pulsating throughout his body, but he persisted, feeling your plush form sit right in his lap. His good arm stroked along your spine and hip, faces mere breaths apart, and he kissed you with a blinding fervor.

Aegon never kissed you like this — not until now.

Whatever sentiments you felt for him, the ones that drove you to complete devotion, began to resurface — you still loved him fiercely, despite everything. “Will you allow me to see you, too?” You whispered against his mouth, digits dancing toward the hem of his tunic.

A beat of hesitation passed through your husband, who almost seemed to revert to his reclusive state. His jaw became tense, an inner war raging within him as he contemplated letting you disrobe him. Aegon looked at you, torn yet wanting, tugging you closer.

You gave him time to deliberate, not wanting to push him into something that he wasn’t prepared for. As if to soothe him, your fingertips traced along his brow line, and into the tangle of scars. “If you do not, I will understand, husband. It will not make me love you any less.”

That alone made him want to remove his tunic.

Aegon tilted forward, burying his face against your collarbone, mottled flesh textured against your own skin. He felt your palm glide against the nape of his neck, carding your digits through his wisps of pale hair. “It is hideous,” He uttered, insecurities bubbling to the surface. “I wouldn’t dare subject you to it.”

“Aegon,” The tenderness of your tone seemed to grab his attention rather swiftly, lilac hues drifting up toward your visage, perfect and comely. “It is all you — every scar and every imperfection, and I will love it all the same. My desires haven’t changed.”

His breath hitched within his throat, eyes swimming with an amalgamation of emotions, some of them too overwhelming to fully comprehend. He had sorely missed your embrace, and to further deprive himself of it seemed like an unimaginable torture.

You wanted him to take his time, neck craning as you peppered your lips against his throat — the burnt side, flesh marred and uneven, the sensation akin to a leathery surface. Aegon exhaled, gripping you tighter as he reveled in the feeling of your mouth.

It was he who initiated the removal of his tunic, attempting to pry it away and over his head, but he struggled, a low groan escaping him. Aegon wanted to feel independent, to do something himself, but he relented, accepting your assistance.

Removing the garment felt like an eternity, born out of his own nervousness and crippling insecurity of you seeing him this way, marred and mottled. Only half of him was covered in that tangled, leathery web of scars, spiraling down his entire physique.

Hovering your palm above his chest, Aegon’s lilac gaze silently pleaded with you to touch him, grace him with the touch of your resplendence. The scars were rough and uneven, innumerable and etched into his flesh like a blanket of leather.

Yet, you did not recoil or shy away, tracing patterns over his skin, pressing your sweet kisses wherever you could reach. Aegon felt his cock twitch and throb with desperation, longing to be inside of you. The tender care you showed him meant more to him than any crass or lewd act did.

You kissed his scarred shoulder, a gesture so comforting and kind that Aegon shuddered from exhilaration. That pattern of soft worship continued, as you kissed his scars again and again, reverence seeping into each grace of your mouth.

“Gods, how divine you are,” Aegon exhaled, quivering hand finally extending just enough to knead against your thigh. The palm that held your hip traced towards the warmth between your legs, and he shivered at the slick arousal there. “What a pleasant surprise.”

You squirmed, cunt aching for him in every way imaginable, hips jolting into the sensation of his practiced digits. Aegon was swift to reward your kindness with quick strokes of his fingers, tracing along your slit before caressing your clit, toying with the sensitive pearl.

The game of waiting was an agonizing one, as he longed to be inside of you, let you feel him again with renewed vigor, drown himself within your love. Aegon groaned when your lips met his, connecting with a thinly-veiled ardor, passionate yet tender.

Agony and pain became a thing of the past — even if his body ached and contorted with a continuous sting, he didn’t care. He wanted to endure for you, savoring each moment, digits greedily stroking away at your cunt in order to warm you up.

Desire made him dizzy, head beginning to spin in a delirium, induced by the growing haze of lust. He couldn’t recall the last time he laid with a woman and truly enjoyed it — but he was enjoying this — he loved your body, and above all else, he loved you.

“I want you inside of me,” You panted, hot breath fanning across the shell of his ear. A shiver cascaded along his spine, prompting him to slow the steady strokes of his digits. “Aegon, please.” With a pleading tone that brought Aegon to heel, he nodded, letting out a grunt of discomfort.

He gently removed you from his lap, but only to readjust, moving himself back against the mound of feathered pillows and cushions. Those violet hues silently observed you, rapturous and starving, like a hound preparing to devour its meal as you clamored forward again.

Your hands moved to the leather ties of his breeches, loosening them up enough to free his cock from its confines, flushed head oozing with tendrils of precum. Aegon wasn’t shy about how aroused he was, how desperately he needed you.

“Sit,” Aegon groaned, hand kneading against your hip, attempting to coax you onto his hardened length. “Please, I — I need you.” You hadn’t heard him beg before, but the sound was husky, timbre strung-out with desire as you crawled back into his lap.

As you gently lowered yourself onto his cock, Aegon nearly moaned at the sensation, head rolling back against the pillows as you sank down completely. He couldn’t move like he used to, guide you along or assist, but he did squeeze your hip, caressing all along your side.

Depriving himself of you for so long was perhaps one of the greatest faults he’d ever made, filling him with a wave of guilt. He could not make up for it anymore, properly ravage you in the way that you deserved, but he hoped that this was a start.

Everything began to ache with more of an intensity, a dull throbbing sinking into his bones, but he relented. Aegon would not deny himself, and he would not deny you, above all else. A myriad of throaty groans escaped him as you began to move, hips rocking forward, disarmingly gentle and sluggish.

You did not go quickly at all, each movement slow and steady, thighs stinging from exertion. Slowly, you reached for his hand, the one that had stayed closer to his chest, longing to hold it, if he was able. Aegon’s breath hitched when you did, gently twining his fingers with your own as you rode him.

His cock filled you perfectly, filling a void within you that had been left half-empty for so long. At last, you had your husband again — the one that you yearned for since your wedding day. With gentle gyrations, you moved yourself up and down along his length, continuing your sluggish rhythm.

The palm that cupped your hip and thigh soon slithered toward the apex of between your legs, hoping to stimulate you just as you did him. Your moans, breathy and high-pitched, filled your chambers, noises that he had been longing to hear.

The full, lovely swell of your breasts bounced gently atop your chest as you continued your ministrations, repeating the monotonous motion of rocking along his cock. Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, and it quickly spread to your loins when Aegon’s thumb caressed the pearl of your cunt.

He wasn’t going to last much longer in this state, cock throbbing with tendrils of precum that released themselves inside of you. The way in which you milked him, moved agonizingly slow, allowing him to feel your cunt tighten around him — it was nearly overwhelming.

Your cunt clenched pathetically, snug around his length as you continued to ride him, his cock bottoming out within you. It was a perfect storm of sensations, between the fervent circles he traced into your clit coupled with the feeling of him inside of you, you knew that your release was near and inevitable.

A breathy sigh of ‘fuck’ emerged from Aegon’s mouth, countenance contorted into a look of complete and utter ecstasy. “Gods, do not stop,” Aegon commanded through wanton groans, hips desperately wanting to buck up inside of you, but the pain was becoming too great. “Please.” He pleaded.

Everything felt so raw and sensitive, nerves set ablaze, arousal gripping him tightly as you continued to ride his cock, ensuring that you were still incredibly gentle. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you move, cautious and mindful of him, lips agape and visage one of sheer bliss.

The delight you felt was immense, holding onto Aegon’s hand, wanting to grind yourself into his thumb. “Aegon,” You moaned, looking down upon him with reverence and awe, no inkling of disgust to be found — it was ardor and want, all tangled into one. “I—I’m close!” Your whine made him want to tear you apart.

It only took one more roll of your hips for him to fall apart, in shambles beneath you, hot ropes of virile seed filling your womb with desperation. Aegon saw stars from the intensity of his release, nearly collapsing in the aftermath of it all.

His breathing quickened, hoarse and labored as you tilted your hips forward, finding a much-needed friction as he caressed your clit even still. Watching you reach your release with his own eyes was a captivating sight, mesmerizing to behold as you shuddered, trembling and aching with relief.

He huffed, attempting to recuperate as you stayed in his lap for a moment longer, slick with your nectar and his own spent, its sheen coating the inside of your thighs. You removed yourself from him to give him some reprieve, stepping away to clean yourself up and retrieve your nightgown.

Aegon’s visage became one of immediate concern as he watched you move away, worried that he had offended you. “Where — Are you not staying?” He questioned, hastily maneuvering his breeches up around his hips again, doing his best to lace up the leather ties.

Surprised, you stopped near the basin of water sitting along the vanity, head canting to one side. “I intended on staying with you, unless you do not want me to.” You replied, sliding the silken garment back on after having taken a swatch of cloth to the warmth between your thighs.

“I want you,” Aegon’s tone had become a rather desperate resonance, as if imploring you to stay even when there wasn’t a need for him to do so. “I want you to stay.” He uttered, lilac hues somewhat shrewd as you approached, helping him put his tunic back on.

“Of course.” With a soothing voice, you pressed a kiss against the scarred side of his scalp, and then to his forehead, helping to ease him back down into bed. The draught left behind by Maester Orwyle assisted with the pain — not nearly as strong as Milk of the Poppy, but it was the best choice.

Taking a swig, Aegon sighed, feeling you climb into bed, curled against the good side of his body. He immediately collected you into his arm, feeling your cheek press into his shoulder. It was the most satisfying feeling in the world, having you by his side again.

“If you are agreeable to it,” Aegon began, tracing patterns into the small of your back, “I wish for you to stay here again, and share my bed.” He didn’t demand anything, nor did he use his title and power to force you into sharing your chambers again.

He would’ve understood if you declined, given everything that had happened between the both of you.

Aegon loathed the thought of being alone again, to return to his reclusive existence of self-deprecation and endless misery when you were still here, living perfection — his beloved wife. He turned his head just enough to kiss your crown, briefly inhaling your floral scent, one that he sorely missed.

“I would like that,” You hummed, comfortable by his side. It was the first time in many moons that Aegon felt almost entirely comfortable again, scars and all. “Know that I love you, Aegon — until my last days.” With a gentle touch, you reached for his marred hand, holding it delicately within your own.

Tears swam within his lilac hues, and he had to squeeze them shut just to alleviate that feeling of sobbing. To hear you say with certainty that you loved him — he knew that he no longer needed to fear the idea of living, not when he had you.

“I love you.” Aegon whispered, barely above a whisper. He held you tightly, cradling you close, grasp innately protective even when danger didn’t hang over your heads.

Perhaps, for the first time in his life, he was finally being transparent with himself — with his inner turmoil, with his very existence, and that he loved you too.

copyright @ swordgrace ; please do not copy/steal my work and claim it as your own. please do not translate my work onto other platforms.

[vodika-vibes]

A Loving Man pt. II

Summary: Several weeks after Crosshair sent a letter to his brothers, you get a surprise visitor.

Pairing: Crosshair x Reader

Word Count: 2237

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This idea has been living in my head for several days, and since I decided that today is my "write personal projects rather than requests day" I decided to actually write it.

It’s a lazy summer day, and you’re enjoying your day off. It would be better, arguably, if Crosshair also had the day off, but he doesn’t, which means that instead of going to the lake with him, you’re hanging out at home, sitting on the back porch with a new novel and a glass of lemonade. 

It’s a fine way to relax, even if it’s not what you originally had in mind for the day.

You absently take a sip of your lemonade when you hear the familiar sound of a speeder approaching your home. You set your glass back on the table and place your datapad down beside it, and you get to your feet.

As the speeder comes to a stop in front of your home, you step off the staircase and walk over to the familiar vehicle. “Mister Willis?” You call, “Is everything alright?”

A slightly older man opens the door and steps out, “Hey there, Doc!” He beams at you and walks around to the other side of the speeder, “Was out by my blinds, checking on them for next season, when I stumbled on…well, see for yourself.”

He pulls the door open and stands to the side, allowing a slender, blonde child to step out of the speeder.

“You found a kid? Near your hunting blind” You ask, horrified. The Willis’ hunting blind was close to three hours away from the town, and wasn’t a safe place at any time of year, but especially not during the middle of summer.

“Yes ma’am,” He helps the girl limp around the speeder, “She’s lucky I showed up when I did. She was already getting swarmed. I did what I could, but-”

“But the Hornets aren’t the most forgiving.” You finish, as you hurry over to the girl and kneel in front of her with a soothing smile, “Well, the good thing is that you’re not allergic. But you’re probably in a lot of pain.”

The little girl nods miserably.

“Why bring her here?” You ask, as you look up at Mister Willis, “The clinic’s closer.”

“She has a picture of you and Cross with your address scribbled on the back,” He replies, “Didn’t know you were expecting company, Doc.”

The little girl sniffles, like she’s trying to not cry, and she fishes around in her jacket pocket. And then she hands over a well folded picture. It’s the picture that Crosshair sent to his brothers all those weeks ago.

Well…a copy at least.

“Honestly, we weren’t either.” You reply dryly, before you set a light hand on the girl’s shoulder, “You’re Omega, right? Crosshair’s little sister?”

“Yeah.”

You smile warmly, “Let’s get you inside, and see if I can make some of that pain go away, yeah?” You offer Omega your arm, and she clings to it for support, “Thanks for bringing her here, Mister Willis.”

“No worries, Doc. I wouldn’t leave a kid out there to fend for herself.” He sighs, “I’ll grab my boys, and we’ll tow her ship to the landing pad in a couple of days. Give the hornets time to move on.”

“That sounds like a plan,” You smile at him gratefully, and as he climbs back into his speeder, you carefully help Omega into your home, and guide her to sit on the couch.

Omega is quiet as you check over the welts that come from being swarmed by hornets, “I didn’t mean to rile them up.” She says quietly.

“It’s alright. You couldn’t have known.” Your voice is gentle, “I’m just glad that you were found before the situation grew worse.”

“Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” You stand and duck into the kitchen for a moment, and you return with an ice pop for Omega, as well as your emergency first aid kit, “Here you go, one ice pop for you to eat while I patch you up.”

“Oh, thank you,” Omega smiles weakly as she accepts the treat, and then she falls silent again.

You treat her injuries, just as quietly, and then you sit back on your heels, “How are you feeling?”

“It hurts a little, but not like it was.”

“Good. Just sit for a little longer, and the pain should fade completely,” You repack your kit, “Alright. While you do that, I’m going to comm Cross. He’s going to have some questions for you, kiddo.”

“Yeah, I know.” Omega’s shoulders hunch slightly, “Thank you for not yelling at me.”

“You might not be thanking me when Cross gets home.” You lightly ruffle her hair, “Fresher is down the hall if you need it, and you can watch whatever you like on the holo. Do you need something to eat or drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the next room if you need anything.” And then you get to your feet, and you step into the kitchen, pulling your comm out of your pocket as you do so.

You sial the comm code you know by heart, and wait a moment.

“Cyare?” Crosshair’s voice comes across the comm, no video, but that’s more than fine. “Is something wrong?” You can hear the hint of concern in his voice, and you feel bad about it. You never call him during the workday.

“Everything’s alright,” You hasten to reassure, “Just…we have a visitor.”

“A visitor?” Crosshair asks, “A patient came to the house? Do you need me to come home to kick them out?”

“Yes, a visitor, and yes, technically she’s a patient. And yes, I do need you to come home, but not to kick her out.” You list, “Cross, it’s Omega.”

There’s silence for a moment, and then you hear the sound of him walking, and then a heavy door opening and shutting, and the next thing you know the comm’s video feed connects, “What?”

“You’re little sister, Omega. She’s currently sitting on our couch. Poor thing was swarmed by hornets. Mister Willis found her by his blind.” You reply.

“What about the others?”

“Just Omega.” You sigh, “If I had to guess, I would say that she decided to come and see you without permission. She has a copy of the picture you sent to your brothers, with our address scribbled on the back.”

He runs his hand through his hair, “You think she ran away?”

“Hm…I don’t think that was her intention, so much as the result of what was her intention.”

He shoots you a puzzled look.

“I think she wanted to see you, Cross.” You clarify, “I don’t have a problem keeping an eye on her, but-”

“But I should probably come home.” He runs his hand through his hair again, and a heavy sigh falls from him, “Alright, I’ll be home in 10.”

“I’ll see you then.” You smile at him, “Love you.”

“Love you more.” And then the comm closes, and you peek into the living room, where Omega is watching a movie, and you turn to busy yourself with making lunch for three.

Sandwiches are easy and quick to put together, so you throw some together. Just as you finish the last sandwich, you hear Crosshair’s speeder come to a stop outside, and he comes in the side door.

He greets you with a faint smile, and he presses a light kiss against your forehead, “You made lunch.”

“Hard conversations are easier over food,” You reply promptly as you reach up and smooth the collar of his jumpsuit, and then you press a quick kiss against his lips, “Do you want to shower?”

He sighs and bumps his forehead against yours, “Better get this over with.” And then he pauses, “What do I say?”

“Why don’t you let her take the lead?” You offer, as you lightly brush your fingers against his cheek, “We can decide what to do after we talk to her, yes?”

“How did I get so lucky to end up with someone so smart?”

“Well, I picked you, for one-” You tease with a grin, and Crosshair laughs. He kisses you quickly, and then reaches around you to set plates on the table.

“Omega,” He calls even as he smiles down at you, “Lunch!”

Omega pokes her head into the room and she nervously looks up at Crosshair, as if expecting to see anger. Though he’s very calm. “You didn’t have to make lunch,” She says to you, “But, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I wasn’t sure what condiments you like, so I left them all out for you.” You reply.

Omega takes a seat at the table, and starts making her sandwich. Almost identical to the way that you make Crosshair’s, and you smother your grin behind your hand. Not quick enough, though, as Crosshair sees it and he lightly pinches your side.

He kisses the side of your head, and takes a seat as well, after he lightly pushes you into your seat. The three of you eat in silence for a moment, and then Crosshair looks at Omega, “So…” He starts slowly, “How did you get here?”

Omega flushes, “I…uhm…borrowed a ship.”

“Borrowed or stole?”

She ducks her head, “Stole…technically.”

“Okay, follow-up question, does Hunter know you’re here?” Crosshair asks.

Omega flushes even more, “Um…well…he doesn’t, no.” Crosshair raises an eyebrow, and Omega hastens to continue, “He got the letter from you and then he hid it from me! And I found it, and I saw that you wrote that we had an open invitation, and Hunter was never going to come and-and-and we’re still family and-!”

“Easy there, kid.” Crosshair interrupts, “I’m not mad that you came to see us.”

“You…you’re not?”

“Nope. I wouldn’t have written the open invitation if I didn’t mean it.” Crosshair continues with a shrug, “I am, however, disappointed that you would run away from Hunter and the others and steal a ship.”

“Oh, come on. Everyone knows that’s worse.” Omega grumbles, and then flushes as Crosshair shoots her a look, “Sorry.”

“Do you have anything you want to add, cyare?” Crosshair asks you.

And you smile at him adoringly, “Just that you’re going to be an amazing dad someday.”

Crosshair falters, and then presses his hand over your eyes, “Eat your sandwich.” He grumbles, his face burning, as he turns back to Omega, “After you finish eating, we’re going to call Hunter.”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes,” You and Crosshair say in unison.

Omega looks from you to Crosshair and then back again. And then she giggles, “You’ve been good for him.”

“I like to think so.” You agree, “He’s not nearly so grumpy now.”

Crosshair sighs, but he doesn’t deny it, “How about we call Hunter now?” He asks as he drops his comm on the table, “Go ahead, Omega.”

Omega hesitates, and then enters a comm code.

The other line rings for a moment, and then connects, revealing Echo on the other end, and Crosshair sighs, “I realize that we all look the same, Omega, but Echo is not Hunter.”

“I know. But Hunter’s going to be angry-”

“Omega? Cross-” Echo sputters, “Hunter’s not the only one angry, Omega! I’m angry too! Where are you?”

“I’m with Crosshair.” Omega says, “Hunter wasn’t going to let me visit him and I decided that I disagree!”

Echo looks bewildered for a moment, “What?”

“Crosshair’s letter,” Omega clarified, “I know I’m the only one who wasn’t allowed to see it-”

“Oh.” Echo sighs, “He wasn’t keeping it from you to hurt you, Omega. He just didn’t want to get your hopes up. We were going to tell you as soon as we decided if we were going to visit.”

“Well,” Omega says, “Now you have to.”

“Oh, you could take the ship you stole back-”

“No, actually, she can’t. The ship needs to be fumigated before it’s allowed anywhere near civilization.” You interrupt, before you look at Crosshair, “The Willis’ are dealing with that and towing the ship to the landing pad when it’s safe to do so.”

“Huh, good for them. They’ll probably need help.”

“Probably,” You agree, “But that’s a problem for later, not now.”

“Right, right.” Crosshair agrees, before he looks at Echo, “The invitation stands, we can find someplace to put you all up for a night or more.”

“And we have space for Omega, until you all can come and get her.” You interrupt.

“That too.”

Echo looks from you to Crosshair, and a small smile crosses his face, “You’ve mellowed out a lot, Cross.” He says quietly.

“Thanks, it’s the therapy.” Crosshair says dryly. “Well, that and the one person who never managed to see anything bad in me.” He motions to you.

“Well then. I look forward to meeting you in person.” Echo’s grin becomes sly, “Don’t worry, I’ll manage to get everyone to agree to come and visit. It won’t even take long.” And then he looks at Omega, “Be good.”

And then the call cuts, and the kitchen falls silent, “Well,” you say after a moment, “Omega needs some proper clothes for the weather here. And we need some additional food-”

“Lunch first, and then shopping. Plus, I need to shower before I go anywhere. I’m covered in motor oil.” Crosshair says, “But I suppose then we can go shopping.”

And with that decided, the conversation becomes much more casual, with Omega grilling you on what you do for a living, and what Crosshair does for a living, and what the planet is like.

[aqqleshiqqing-archive]

I Know You

- Synopsis: Just before she departs, and travels to Hoenn, Jaide expresses a concern to her brother. - A/N: These are my immediate thoughts about how Jaide knows his true personality, just moments before Gold sets off his little mission which follows the starting events of the H.G.S.S Arc, but with Jaide just inserted. - Word Count: 2,450 (NOT A DRABBLE I GOT CARRIED AWAY LOL)

The lone Apricorn sits at the clean surface of the kitchen counter - it's spherical in shape, and brightly colored to attract the eye of a hungry individual. It's still fresh, and in good shape.

A curious Jumpluff floats around the pretty fruit, and gives it a small nudge with its small forehead. It has a hard exterior, but it rolled away by an inch at the contact started by the cotton Pokémon. Faint chuckles could be heard as Jumpluff stares back at to where the voice came from, and was immediately comforted the moment it looked at its trainer - or companion, as the owner would prefer to see her Pokémon as.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" The owner asked, the sides of her cheeks rose higher as she observes her little friend's adorable act, it made her happy.

The cottonweed creature twirled around in affirmation, it seemed excited to have this fruit turned into a drink to savor. It floated away from the Apricorn and landed on the shoulder of its owner, nestling on her black locks of hair. It's messy by nature, but it felt like home to it. She chuckled at this sweet gesture, and held her Pokémon on her palm.

"We'll get to work soon. Gold still has yet to arrive - he has the rest of the goods, y'know?" She reminded her little friend, poking the little blue cheeks. It looks somewhat irritated at first, probably just over the fact it'd have to wait a little longer - but in the end, it's just a drink it's been dying to take.

Silence covered the room for a bit, letting the dead air fill the ambience for a few moments as the owner sat around to wait for the goods to arrive. Though it wasn't very long until she could register the sounds of loud banter that got increasingly louder when footsteps started to emerge along with faint vibrations that she could feel on her foot - like that of giant stomping from a huge Pokémon. She was sure she heard some muffled conversations and what sounded like faint roaring, but it was all familiar to her anyways.

With a swing of the door, the voice became clear.

"I'm home, Jaide!" a young lad stands from where he pushed the door, he walks forward and proudly greets himself.

The lady, Jaide - turns around to see that it's indeed Gold. He looked a bit messy, little patches of dirt painted his face dark, twigs and leaves got stuck on his shirt but it that didn't matter to her, what did however was his toothy grin that darted at her, reminding her of how lucky she is to have a sweet younger brother.

He was holding a basket full of Apricorns. Just as she requested.

What followed after Gold were his Pokémon as well, Aipom and Typhlosion to be exact. Perhaps he decided to let them tag along to aid him while he was on the job, they looked a little dirty too.

"There you are, Gold!" Jaide beamed excitedly, she could tell he really did his best harvesting the Apricorns that laid around the area and she appreciated his efforts. She walks up to him and takes his cheeks on her palms, rubbing the dirt off his face as he stood there all proud and cocky. "Thank you" she uttered in delight. He shrugged it off, like it was no big deal.

"Of course! It's nothin' much. Besides - I got to hang around with your cool Ursaring! He's really good at locating the Apricorns..."

As he mentioned about her Ursaring - the big bear walks in as well, slowly growling in comfort as it sees Jaide again. The heavy footsteps pounded against the floor as it walks to Jaide, practically asking to be hugged by her, to which she responds by embracing it by the stomach.

"I told you, Usarings have a great sense of smell. Finding berries is probably a walk in a park for these guys." She replies, rubbing her hand against its fur, making the hibernator Pokémon feel all drowsy. "We've been doing this for years. He's got the whole place memorized if his sense of smell fails him ... but I doubt it'll ever fail him." Jaide chuckled as she boasts about her big guy. Jumpluff who still laid on her shoulder mewled in agreement.

Gold looked at Ursaring one more time, before nodding back at Jaide. He recalls the bear being quite fierce and serious when they were outside, but the moment it could be under his sister's warmth, it's like a flick of a switch in the personality - he's all cuddly and wholesome. He smiled at the thought.

"Anyways..." Jaide started. She dusted her hands before picking up the basket of colorful, fresh fruits.

"... Do you want to help me out with the Apricorns?" She asked, though she appeared a little hesitant, her eyes didn't focus entirely on him, and made it look like she was just occupied trying to carry the basket. "I mean, you don't have to ... it's just nice to have company."

She felt that she was being a little pushy with her favors, he did just arrive back after an hour of walking outside. The first request was a genuine favor - although the second one... it's not a need for assistance, but rather - she was seeking an opening to talk about something

No, that was a bad time to ask, She told herself, mentally feeling a twinge of regret as she started to obsess over the mistake. She hid her face by turning her back on him, walking towards the kitchen desk.

It went silent for a bit. Did he really hesitate?

"..."

"Sure!"

Oh, that's a relief. She felt her chin perk up as she feels a sense of relief - though, she couldn't help but wonder why did it take him a bit to respond. Maybe he's just catching his breath.

She turns back to him, and smiles. "Aha, that's wonderful to hear."

"Well, could you wipe the fruits dry as I give them a rinse?"

Gold nods, and follows her behind.

The rest of the hour went well, Gold and Jaide's Pokémon laid in the living room to rest for awhile. Even while the two siblings were trying to help each other, it didn't excuse them from trying to be silly together. Jaide would try to catch his attention, and splash water on his face, earning a hearty laughter from her as Gold immediately recoils back and makes spitting noises, worrying if she happened to splash dirty water or anything alike in his mouth. He stares back at her in disbelief, but recovered immediately as he hears her warm laughter. In the end, they were like best friends, and it felt just right.

The Apricorns were all clean and dry now, and the last thing to do was to create the juice itself. To create the Aprijuice, one must fill the blender with the fruit, with consideration to the taste of course, and it has to brought outside to walk with it, so that it would be mixed altogether to create a delicious drink. Jaide knew this all too well, but it still made Gold tilt his head in confusion - at least he understood the last part.

She giggled at his perplexed look as he watches her do the next sequence, which is choosing fruits that could go in the blender. There's not much for him to do now, so he just observed her.

Perhaps now's the time to bring it up. Jaide had a determined look on her face now, surely they're comfortable enough to discuss something without making it feel rushed.

Taking a deep breath and shutting her view, she gives herself a little cheer and turns back to her brother.

"So, Gold..." she attempts to initiate the topic, while segregating the Apricorns that can enter the blender.

Not really the most confident start, but perhaps it's best to let it start slow.

"There's something I want to talk about."

"Hm?" Gold perked an eyebrow up. "Yeah?"

She hesitated for a bit, her palms began to shake a bit.

"...You know that ... I'll be away from here for, a long time right?"

"..."

He stayed silent, whether he was a speechless at this sudden shift in mood, or he was still letting her finish - she pressed on with her topic at hand. She finished a few bottles of fruits, and paused to speak.

"Gold, I'll be... going to Hoenn, and, y'know - In Mossdeep City, and well, I'll be starting something new there."

Jaide started to rub her ring finger, feeling something cold, and metal hug around it. That something means a lot to her now, but she doesn't know how he'll take this.

She felt partially embarrassed, she didn't want to be too obvious with her point, but enough to make him understand the context, though beating around the bush is ticking her off as she struggled to come up with more lighter words to tone down the central message. She decides to rephrase herself, no sugarcoating.

"I won't be with you as much anymore."

"I'm sure you know that." Jaide felt her heart sank as she finally got her words out, it was easy to read - but never easy to say.

Gold simply stared blankly at her. It was hard to read his emotions, but she knew that he's beginning to harbor some emotions over this.

"So... I just wanted to ask, while we still have time." her eyes lowered to her hands, fidgeting with her fingers - they were interlocked and rubbing against each other, she was trying her best to steer clear into this topic without breaking.

"... if you have any worries, or feelings... or anything that makes you afraid." she continues.

"We can talk- no, I want to talk about it. I want to know that you will be okay when I'm away."

Her eyebrows furrowed in determination, her voice was soft, but there's a sense of force and seriousness to her tone, and she's not going to play hide and seek anymore.

"Gold, do you have any bad feelings recently?"

She scooted closer to him, though she only realized now that his gaze was away from her, and only staring at the kitchen counter's shiny, reflective surface.

She didn't want to talk further, and allowed him to take his time to respond, or at least come up with something to her hefty line of conversation.

Negative thoughts starts to kick in overdrive as she stares at Gold's turned face, she can only look at his messy hair and goggles that fitted on to his backwards cap nicely.

Was she too harsh now?

Am I a bad sister for wanting something new? Mom will still be there to watch over you, Gold - you're not entirely alone...

"Haha, what got you thinking all of that, sis?"

Huh?

"I'm no baby, Jaide! I'm totally okay! I can handle it"

Gold finally responded, with his signature cocky grin, casually rubbing his index under his nose as he poked a joke at her. He pulled his hands to the back of his neck, and rested his head on his palms - pointing his elbows on the air without a care - he seems so blissfully ignorant over how emotionally heavy this is for Jaide, supposedly and especially for him, too.

It was her turn to stand there in silence. Her throat is clogged as she was unsure how to take in that reaction he pulled just now. Should she be mad?

"C'mon Jaide, you sound so scared! I'll be okaaaay, all good! I got Emoboy and Hall Monitor girlie with me, I don't sound so lonely, now do I?" he was strangely happy. She knows he's not trying to offend her, but it hurt her deep inside when she's here, struggling to talk about it but he responds so casually, almost as if this is just a normal conversation to talk about. It feels, so off.

Gold looks back at her Apriblenders filled with Apricorns, and snickers. "Yo, I think you're the one tired. Let me go juice these bad boys while you go rest!" He grabs the containers, seals then and slides them in his messenger bag without a single comment from his sister - it's almost as if he was trying to shift the topic.

He must be hiding something.

"W-wait, Gold, but-"

"Nuh-uh! You go sit down there with Ataro, and your big teddy bear guy with the fluffy cotton girl!" he pushes her to the living room, where the mentioned Pokémon slept peacefully. He sits her down on the couch and tries to let her relax.

"I'll be out to go jog! Nothing wrong with breaking another bucket of sweat, no problem. This is how I can impress the pretty kimono girls out there too!"

He just kept talking, and talking - Jaide had no entry to even interrupt him.

"I'll be back with yummy drinks that you can sell! I know you're way better with money than me, right? I'm doing this for you!"

And then it clicked to her.

Ah, so this is how you're playing, dear brother?

She chuckles, she won't pry him further to answer her question. He already answered it.

"Ahah, sure... Gold. You go impress those kimono girls." she smiled back at him, resting her palm on her rosy cheeks. "Be safe, okay?"

"Yup. Will do."

He nods enthusiastically. Gold skips backwards to the door, still grinning back at her. He places two fingers in mouth and whistles for his Typhlosion to wake up. The fiery companion immediately responds to his command, and runs to him - waiting for his next signal.

He salutes her and gets on his Typhlosion's back, ready to leave the house.

"See ya in a bit Jaide!"

He waves at her, and commands his partner to walk. They both leave the house, kicking the door open on the way out.

Jaide kept her face bright until he left the house, her smile fades into that of a sad realization. Getting up from the couch, she walks over to the open door, and watches her brother speed away - her vision of him eventually becomes smaller and smaller, until he's nowhere on sight to be seen. She lets out a disappointed sigh.

You weren't being honest with me, were you?

Gold, you're afraid,

You're afraid to open up your feelings and worries.

You're afraid to tell me you'll miss me.

You're lying to yourself, Gold.

[reallyromealone]

I would like to put in another request bonten x child reader (2-3) who likes to collect things around he finds laying around. Like bonten members have noticed that their stuff has gone missing and they are looking around for the items so they go in readers room and find his stash and reader walks in the room and throws a tantrum. He's screaming and crying and they offer him a shopping trip wherever he wants and at the end the bonten men are carrying bags full of toys and clothes.

I sure can!

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

They didn't really notice at first, little things here and there went missing but nothing remarkable.

Then other things went missing.

Shoe laces.

Rans sleep mask

Rindōs glasses case he keeps for emergencies.

Eventually even Mikey's left sandal.

And they had a sneaking suspicion where they all went.

"Called it" ran said as the dad's stood around their son's stash of nonsense that wasnt even hidden, just sitting in the back of his toy truck for anyone to see.

(Name) was to young to understand he was technically stealing, only 2 and in his defence you never leave things in arms reach of a baby.

"Well let's sort our shit I suppose"

"Nononono!" Little (name) cried from the doorway, having just come back from the park and with new things he found to add to his hoard because you see (name)s nanny read him a book about dragons and dragons were cool and hoarded treasures so (name) would too hoard his treasures.

"Bud we need our stuff back" Koko tried to reason with the tot who cried and stomped his little foot, his indoor slippers having squeakers in them as well and it was very adorable.

"No! My tesure!" He cried out and began sobbing when they messed with his hoard that he worked very hard to collect and could not believe they were ruining it like this.

"Bud we need our stuff back, end of discussion"

And that led to (name) having an absolute meltdown to the point of struggling to breathe, his tiny body unable to handle so many emotions.

His nanny tried to calm him down but nothing would work as he lost his little mind over his dad's ruining his hard work.

He hadn't cried this hard since they told him he couldn't wear shoes into the bath.

Though this time they could tell it was more personal to the boy who just wanted to be a god damn dragon.

"C'mon bud, it's ok" Mochi tried soothing but (name) smacked his hand away and shook his head "I feel like this is slightly my fault" the nanny spoke up and explained the whole dragon book and everything to the dad's and it all made sense there but they weren't mad at her, they did have strange kid after all.

Eventually (name) stopped crying choosing to ignore his dad's and sulk over his ruined hoard that was missing many cool things he found and when they tried offering things to him he just shook his head because it wasn't the same, you can't give him common trash (even when there was legit trash like pop tabs in that hoard) and expect it to be fixed!

Poor (name) was heartbroken and their dads felt like shit because they know their son worked hard on it but they needed their things back.

"Hey bud, wanna go shopping?" Kakucho offered the tot who was angrily playing with his toys, chubby face contorted into anger and just grunted "we can get you anything you want bud"

That got his attention.

The boy agreed and the group went to any store he wanted in the mall, the boy getting toys, clothes and some strange things like disinfectant and Chapstick, the toddler would get anything that caught his eyes really.

The boy got fake glasses as well and a box of Band-Aids that were hello kitty themed, an adult apron and shoe insoles as well.

What he will do with these things they do not know.

He also got car window microfiber wipes.

Why is their kid like this.

By the end (name) had many things, some reasonable and some being a dog bed for a very large dog.

But their son was happy and they enjoyed spoiling him from time to time so it was worth the weird shit he wanted.

X

Fun fact when I was little I didn't understand that a dog bed wasnt a pillow and insisted my mom get me one as a very small child and I slept on that thing on-top of my bed and it was wonderful.

[primofate]

Hi there, can I request the boys seeing you got injured or being attacked, whichever is fine ^^

Hey anon! You didn’t specify how injured but I’ll just run with it hahaha :)

Shortfic

Scenario: You got injured Part 1

Part 2 with Zhongli

Part 3 with Xiao

Characters: gn! reader x Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe

Warnings: angst, injury, no character death though

Masterlist

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If you’d like to be extra sweet and donate, here’s my kofi link: 

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Diluc

“Master Diluc, if I could just interrupt--” one of the caretakers in the winery walked up to his office and prepared for the assault of words that could be fired towards him, sure enough, Diluc interrupted. “What is it? I’m a little busy right now, make it quick,” he hadn’t turned his face to look at the grim expression weaving in and out through the caretaker. Hadn’t bothered to look up to check if there was anything amiss, but the caretaker continued quickly “It’s Y/N,” the caretaker had only paused for a moment but Diluc had already picked his head up at the mention of your name. It was here that he realises something must have gone wrong, the caretaker’s expression was not a pleasant one. He was up on his feet, eyes widening a fraction at the following words, “They came back to the mansion seconds ago and they’ve been injured past what Adelinde could fix so we called for a doctor—”

In Diluc’s hurry he had stumbled over his chair, it tripping behind him with a thud on the floor but he ignored it and fast runs towards your room. Dear Archons he should NOT have let you go on that commission by yourself. You could hold your own, yes, but things happened and he really should have thought that through first. He was berating himself for it as he swung the door open. “Y/N?!” 

The urgency in his voice tells you that he perhaps had the wrong idea of what was happening, it was really just a gash on your leg, although it was bleeding profusely, the cut must have been deeper than you thought. The maid had already placed a tourniquet to stop and slow the bleeding. You tried not to show it in your face, not wanting to alarm your lover any further, but it. hurt. like. hell. “Diluc, I’m fine, it’s just a gash,” 

The maid that was previously sitting on the chair next to your bed moves away, Diluc replacing her, his eyes didn’t tear away from the wound on your leg, his expression contorted to that of worry and nervousness, before finally turning to your face, reaching a hand out to cradle your cheek. “Stop lying. You’re pale, you’re sweating--” of course he sees through you, he knows the second you get upset, knows every crease on your forehead and every slight furrow of the brow. He had memorized every inch of his beautiful, beautiful treasure. “Your hands are trembling, you’ve lost too much blood, where’s the doctor?!” He grips your hand at the realization that you might actually be in a more dire situation than presented, and just on cue the doctor comes through the door, asking for some time alone with you to do his job. 

Diluc paces outside the door, unable to stay in one place for long. He kept thinking about how frail you looked. How, if you were unlucky, it wouldn’t have just been your leg. He shook his head at the thought. He didn’t know how he was going to let you out of his sight from then on. He knew full well it would annoy you to have him following you around everywhere but.... How could he not after this?

The doctor emerged half an hour later and explained that you just needed a bit of rest and that, with a little healing magic, you didn’t need the stitches at all. “Don’t let them use that leg for a day and they should be fine, it’s nothing life-threatening but they did lose a lot of blood and is going to need time to recuperate. They’re asleep at the moment,” 

Diluc takes note of everything and quietly slips into your room. They must have sedated you in the process and he sighs as he plops down on the chair that was still placed next to your bed. His eyes soften at the sight of you finally relaxed and less in pain, hand reaching out to brush off strands of stray hair that blocked his view of your face. “You’re the only one who can scare me this much,” he mutters under his breath, as if complaining and he swears that he sees a very small and light grin on your face, as if teasing him. He smiles a little, just happy that you’re stabilized and leans in to kiss your forehead, opting to stay by your side till you wake up.

----------

Kaeya

“What do you mean unconscious?”

“J-Just as we said, Captain. They were unconscious when we found them,” Kaeya sighs in slight exasperation. Normally he was a jolly camper but when the knight in front of him is unable to say how injured you are, Kaeya gets a little wordy. “I meant to say why were they unconscious? Were they hurt? Where are they now?”

Kaeya stands. He was in the middle of some Favonius paper work. “They were bleeding profusely from the head,” Kaeya stops as if lightning has struck him and stares pointedly at the knight. “These details should be said early on,” he thought that it had just been something less threatening. Perhaps you had somehow passed out, exhausted, on your bedroom floor. Or perhaps had just rolled from the bed and onto the floor. They said that they found you in the bedroom, and his blood froze when he realizes that someone went in there to attack you.

Kaeya doesn’t bother talking the other knight into giving better reports next time, he’d do that later. He could guess that you were probably taken into the Favonius infirmary. Sure enough, when he walks in there, face scrunched up into what could only be described as worry and anger mingling together, you were awake, head bandaged up and your eyes meet. His heart breaks at how you still smile at him despite the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. He stands next to the infirmary bed and gingerly touches your cheek, peering into your eyes. “Y/N, what happened?” he asks, eyes scanning the bandages wrapped around you. “Who did this?” and there was that angry and cold undertone in his voice that you rarely heard, as if his cryo vision had taken over his whole being.

“I’m sorry, Kaeya, I-- I can’t quite remember,” You put a hand up to cover half of your eye, your head was still throbbing and in quick realization Kaeya eases up on you and gently pushes you on your back to rest. “It’s fine, sorry, I just--” he cuts his own speech off and takes a deep breath in. Focus on the good. He tells himself. “I’m glad you’re alright, take it easy, I’ll take care of things,” By that he means he might just slaughter whoever even had the guts to break into your house and attack you in the middle of the day. The break-in was reported by townspeople, and Kaeya was sure as hell he’d get every witness to describe that asshole’s face. 

“You’re staying with me for the moment,” he decides quite quickly, and you had no qualms with that whatsoever. Hearing that you had no protest at all, he grins and leans down to capture your lips in a soft kiss, afraid to hurt you. “No complaints? Perhaps this was your grand scheme all along to come live with me,” You can’t help but chuckle at how quick he bounces back. “Maybe, honey. Maybe,”

----------

Albedo

“Ow--” the knife clatters to the floor, as blood starts to pool around your finger. Albedo spins around at the meek sound you make, ignoring the knife on the floor and strides over to you just as you’ve turned on the sink and started running water on the small cut on your finger.

“Let me see,” You turn to him, blinking. His face was blank. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking but he was staring straight at you. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s just a small cut,” but he doesn’t waver and glances at the water running over your finger. “Let me see,” he tries again, this time rather forceful. That got you to obey. Turning the faucet off and awkwardly offering your hand to him.

He receives it and cradles it in his as if it was porcelain, upturning your hand to look at the small cut on your pointer finger. It was tiny. Really nothing compared to wounds that a knight might sustain. Albedo sighs and looks up at you, “Don’t go anywhere,” before stalking off, coming back a few seconds later with a first aid kit. “...Al, it’s alright, it’s not a big deal,” Albedo would only let one person give him a nickname. You. No one else. Frankly he thought the nickname was weird but if it danced on your lips, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Y/N, you’re mistaken if you think I’m going to take this lightly,” he takes out some ointment and a small roll of bandage, starting with the ointment. “Everything and anything that hurts you is a significant thing,” his gaze darkens, as if glowering at that microscopic cut. “Miniscule or massive, it doesn’t make a difference to me,” he starts wrapping your finger, “if it taints your skin, I cannot help but feel--” he doesn’t know the right word, but you do, judging from how his hold on your wrist tightens. 

A soft smile paints your features at how he was such a worry-wart. Sometimes he was so bad at navigating his own feelings but you could decipher them anyway, from his actions. You let him worry over you, and thank him once he’s done. He finishes his work by taking your hand, and pressing it to his lips, his eyes darting up to lock on yours. That made you blush every damn time. His green eyes were just so mesmerizing, and so was his heart.

----------

Childe

Dear mother of the Archons, perhaps whoever was responsible for your injuries had some type of death wish. Everyone should offer prayers for whoever had cut you up. Your arms and legs were littered with small scratches from trying to run away from the attackers, you thought going through the thick forest was a good idea. In essence, it had slowed the thieves down. They had managed to throw a fire bomb at you that severely burned your right hand, and the right side of your abdomen. 

Perhaps it was thanks to adrenaline running through you that you had actually managed to make it to the gates of Liyue, just before the bridge, but you’d crumpled down right then and there. The Millelith guards didn’t recognize you, but the three Fatui agents walking on the bridge did. “Someone had better tell him,” The group of Fatuis scrambled nearer to you, one of them picking you up, but glancing at the other who had just spoken up. “I’m not doing that, you do it,” it was slightly comical, seeing them pass off the duty of who was supposed to report to Childe about it. “You know how he gets when it comes to them, I’m not doing--” then one of them finally gets their bearings together.

“Shut up, get them to the healer first,” The tallest one shoves the one carrying you, urging him to go fast and off he went. Now it was just two Fatui agents looking at each other. Two Fatui agents who decided that they would just face his wrath together. “Sir,” one of them starts as Childe turns around to look at them. He actually had no tasks today and was just about to go off to find you. “About Y/N...” Childe’s eyebrows shoot up, what in the world could these agents have to say about you? “We’ve sent them to the healers, they collapsed at the entrance of Liyue, it... doesn’t look good...”

All hell descends upon Childe’s demeanor and poise. His face darkens, his eyes burning holes through the two agents and his fists closed up on his side. His bow appears and hovers behind him, the only thing that shone through his dark person. “The two of you--” he starts, “are going to find out who did it. I’m expecting a report by nightfall,”

Childe himself shows up at the healers quarters, and was told of your condition. “Their hand is going to scar,” keeps reverberating in his head. Like the sound that he imagines the skulls of those who dared touch you crunching under his feet, over and over again. Childe actually winces when he sees you. Small bandages on your arms and legs from the scratches, your right hand wrapped up adequately and, he couldn’t see it now, but he was sure your abdomen was wrapped too.

You cracked an eye open, feeling another presence in the room. Childe immediately appears next to you, leaning over the bed and watching your expression. “...It hurts, doesn’t it?” he asks, tracing over your bandaged hand. You remained quiet for a moment before nodding your head slowly. Just remembering it caused a blinding pain in your mind’s eye. You’d been given drugs to ease the pain now, but there were still traces of it lingering on your skin. “How dare they,” both your eyes snapped open at Childe’s nearly contorted voice, shadowed and overpowered by rage. 

You pick up your good hand and touch his arm with the tips of your fingers. You didn’t like it when he got like this. “Childe, it’s alright,” far from it, but it was the only reassurance you could offer. He catches your hand and brings it up to his face, pressing your hand to his cheek as if it was a lifeline. “It’s not. It’s not,” he repeats to himself, his anger also stemming from the fact that he wasn’t there to protect you. “They’ll regret even laying eyes on you,” You knew he wanted to go now, knew that he wanted to get to the bottom of it, but you yet again pull your hand away to grasp at his shirt, the fabric scrunching up under your hold. “...But stay with me for tonight? Please?” 

That got him. He would never say no. His form relaxes and he leans in to kiss your lips, gentle yet with a hidden hunger in them. “Of course,” he simply says, as if his previous agenda forgotten.

But he would never forget. He would never forget for as long as he could see that scar. 

Tomorrow, he would decimate each and every one of them.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Hey! Could I request a fic where the reader and Bucky like each other and she has to pretend she’s Zemo’s girlfriend for the Madripor mission? Bucky gets jealous and all that jazz and they confess their feelings :)

Madripoor Muse

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary | Bucky harbours feelings for you, but despite Sam’s inflatable encouragement, refuses to inform you of them. However, seeing you pretend to be Zemo’s girlfriend whilst on a mission, more so when the criminal knows what strings he is pulling at, happens to infuriate him inevitably.

Warnings | jealousy, violence, references to sex work (there is nothing wrong with it, everyone is free to do what they want or need to do to get by, angst, mentions of death, grief, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, swearing

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

“I mean, if he looks like a pimp, then I look like one of his workers.” Sam snorted at your words, as Bucky’s eyes trailed down the skin that was exposed through the small piece of fabric, that in modern days, was considered a dress.

Zemo simply sighed at the pair of you, shaking his head as though the former winter soldier would understand his point. “It’s Madripoor, not an american graduation. You are not going to be clothed in long robes in this place, expression is in the body, and how it is clothed.”

“Or not clothed.” Bucky retorted, frowning at how you shuffled beneath the criminal’s gaze, crossing your arms, which definitely did not help the situation, considering that it did nothing more than make your breasts rise. Admitting defeat, you let them fall, holding them to your sides, outlining your hips, which once more, was not how you wished to be portrayed as you walked through the illuminated air, careful to keep pace in your heels.

“We all have a part to play, winter soldier.” Helmut spoke, his accent causing waves to ripple through the euphoria of lights that lay up ahead. “I am me, you are you, Sam is the Smiling Tiger, and...”

“I’m a hooker?” Once more, Zemo showed disappointment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned to you. It seemed that tonight, you, a smart and well coordinated avenger, was absolutely adoring testing his patience, but that was his trick.

He was the captive here, forced to help the forsaken superheroes that had prompted him with the idea of escaping from the government’s ensured facility. And it was without a doubt that he would mess with their minds each chance that he got.

“No, think of yourself as more personalised to one person than that y/n. Your as you people say ‘arm candy’.” He used quotations with his fingers, causing you to reach for Sam’s arm to assume the role. “Oh no, not his.” Zemo made a come here motion, making you gulp.

“You’re kidding, right?” Bucky huffed, glaring unimpressed towards the Baron, who only tutted in reply, implying that he indeed was serious. “This is stupid.”

“Stupid would be allowing this hurrah of new age super soldiers to continue their war path, don’t you think James?” Zemo asked condescendingly, holding his arm out for you to grasp onto, so that you would look more than an associate, or a serum induced bodyguard.

“Me posing as your sugar baby is stupid.” You muttered, as you walked, Bucky on look out behind you, as he glared frustratedly at where you and the mass murderer were touching.

Zemo tugged you by the arm for the comment, causing you to roll your eyes at the man that had tried his best and succeeded, at destroying your team; your family. Nevertheless, you followed his stride, well aware of the sharp eyes of the man behind you.

As you entered the club, a spectrum of blue lights illuminated your skin, as you stared around in wander. There was a variety of all didn’t people, born from different virtues, wealths and races all intermingling around in the space.

If Zemo didn’t have a leash on your arm, you’d have stared for a little longer, perhaps even gotten purposely lost in the sea of bodies that flashed with such ambition and prospect. All were designed to suit their surroundings, and you wished that you could fit in that easily too.

But you were lost, roped into this journey by the Falcon, the man that denied Steve’s wishes and passed on the shield to firmer hands, still uncertain of where you were planning on going. What you needed was a fight, a reason to keep roaming upon the earth. If you came up empty, you may have well have taken up Thor’s offer, and accompanied him with his new friends.

The avengers were disbanded, dotted with different services. You’d heard nothing from Wanda, it appeared that her phone had been cut off, leaving you gravely confused, but you understood that she needed time to mourn. But you couldn’t give yourself the same pampering, if you did so, then all purpose of life would slip through your fingers, and you’d be left vulnerable, a hero that willingly fell from their graces.

Finally you reached the bar, with the shadow of the winter soldier hovering over your shoulder, watching as Zemo’s untrustworthy hand trailed along your furthest collarbone, using it as his sway to grab your attention. He set his sights upon his touch, glaring harshly at it.

No one would question the expression that he wore, it was only natural for his reputation to be proceeded with such a dagger like gaze; he was supposed to be playing the killer that he once was after all.

“My lady, what would you like to drink?” Helmut asked, turning your gaze towards his, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forbidding you from even try to look away from his sly eyes.

“White wine will do the trick, my love.” The words felt like spew falling from your mouth, but you withheld the impulse to grimace, instead, flashing him a flirtatious smile, fanning his face with your eyelashes as you were still held to face him.

“Fine choice.” He smirked, nodding towards the bartender, who had just presented the Smiling Tiger imposter with a shot that had the intestines of a snake floating around in its liquid. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Sam hesitated to drink it for a moment, before throwing it down the hatch, treating it as an old trick.

Madripoor, for an island trapped in violence, didn’t appear that bad on the outside. That was, until the shooting began, causing the lot of you to leg it from the citizens targeting their rifled hardware towards you, running with your lives depending on it.

You had temporarily lost Zemo, as you put head your own safety, your pace and spot being just between Sam and Bucky, as the first man’s arms flailed as he insisted that he could not run in the heels that he was wearing. Huh, you’d be running in heels all your life, maybe he shoulda learned how to do so earlier, it came as a great talent.

Gunshots rang out, as a hooded figure unveiled themselves, introducing the older face of a blonde that you had once knew. It had been quite some time since you had last seen her, all having gone your separate ways to evade the law, and its cruel jurisdiction. “Sharon?” Bucky spoke, instantly recognising the woman that had aided them in the past.

Once you were all reintroduced, and met with her annoyance, which was surely understandable, she led you to her property, where you were able to part from the Sokovian, and share your distaste to the man, as well as remove the skimpy dress.

It pooled at your feet as you tossed it from your ankle, leaving you in nothing more than your underwear. As you squinted, searching for some reason that you were continuing with this foolishness of thinking that the world still considered you a hero, an echo of a knock rattled against the door. It was metal upon wood; Bucky.

“Come in.” You spoke, as you tied a spare robe around your waist, watching as the super soldier, who appeared less stoic, and more human stepped into the room, closing the door behind his emerging shadow. “You alright man?”

Bucky’s eyes drifted down for a moment, before they splintered back up towards your face, his jaw physically tensing, the notion well visible. He breathed in a long breath through his nose, as he stepped closer, his brow harsh and lined upon his forehead.

“I didn’t like Zemo putting his filthy hands on you.” He admitted aloud, the words of Sharon, teasing him for pining after someone that he had once thought of as no more than a friend of Steve’s. But now that man was gone, and so was the one that he used to be. Instead, he was left standing on his own feet, having to find balance by himself somehow.

“Neither did I.” You informed him. “It was like he was pulling back the images of his collapsing country, pouring every ounce of pain and hatred upon me, evading my mind with guilt, and the memories of what it all amounted to. None of it had been worth it, living like this. We’re treated like animals, no longer idols or heroes, people under the big thumb that keeps pressing down on us.”

“Well we’re both pressed down, limited to our rules and the outlines they want us to obey.” He nodded, raising his flesh hand to your collarbone, wanting to mark his touch upon it to remove that of Zemo’s. At his action, your breath hitched, but you allowed him to sweep his pads over the flesh, shuffling indefinitely closer so that you were chest to chest.

“We’re dangerous in their eyes. That’s a mindset they have in common with our prisoner out there.” You whispered, frowning from the thought. Two monarchies, one still whilst the other already fallen, served the same opinions, though, only one could continue to take action. Zemo was a Baron, but of what country now?

Like all, his home had been vanquished into smithereens, the foundations collapsing into rubble, the history disappearing with its lands, having thrown its dusty remnants in your face.

“I’m fine with being considered dangerous so long as I’m not alone.” He pinched your chin, tilting your head, this time though, you felt in his grasp. It didn’t belong to that of an enemy, it was one of an ally, a friend. “Tell me I’m not alone y/n.”

“I’m here James.” You stared up at him with focused pools, biting your lip as your mind went haywire over everything. “The Wakandans will come for him, you do realise that, right?” He hummed in reply, briskly bringing his metal hand to toy with the belt of the white wrap around.

“Do you think that you could show me that I’m not alone?” He nervously asked, shuffling his weight from foot to foot, as he awaited a reply. But instead of words, he earned himself the sensation of your lips upon his, collaborating in a touch starved jumble of grunts. “You’re beautiful, like...”

“Like what Barnes?” You prompted, brushing your palms onto his shoulders, easing his tenseness. Expectedly, you watched him through half lidded eyes as you leant up to plant supple kisses upon his neck, sucking his skin into your mouth, as though you were trying to thread it gently with your teeth.

“A muse.” He sighed, thinking for a momentum, before dragging your hair through his vibranium fist, lightly grinning as he heard your breath wither from the sensation. “A beautiful muse, one that reminds me to be better everyday. I want to become someone better for you.”

“You shouldn’t.” You unlatched your mouth from him, frowning lightly at the brunette man. “You should become better for nobody but yourself Buck, each day, it’s about self growth, fixing everything that you have ever been taught so that you can learn to do better next time, so that no one else will die because of your expense.”

Bucky nodded, allowing your words to sink in. His fingers returned to playing with the waist band on your robe, his eyes gazing into your own, as he fiddled with the material. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.” You granted him permission, allowing him to push the coverage from you, his eyes widening at seeing you in nothing more than your underwear. His sight traced every curve and bump and dip that was upon your shape, licking his dry lips to make his gawking less subtle.

“You’re killing me doll.” He leant his head back, as he raked his contrasting fingertips down your shoulders, all the way to the small of your back. You smirked, grasping him through his jeans, earning yourself a moan from the elder man.

“I said it’s all about self growth, didn’t I? It seems that you are taking that in quite a literal sense.” You rubbed him through the denim, finding it unsurprising as the man backed you towards the bed, your knees hitting the end sending you falling onto the mattress.

Bucky crawled his way atop of you, rutting his hips against your own. It had been so long since he had been permitted to be this free, and he knew for sure, this would be a secret that he would not inform any therapist of. This was private, the sentiment making it close to his weathered heart.

His lips returned to your own, as your hands scaled beneath your shirt, lightly tracing the scars. He wasn’t as insecure as he thought he’d be about someone touching them, perhaps it was because many of your own materialised stories were written in your skin, or that you understood what it meant to be a soldier, serving under orders.

It didn’t matter too much, he wasn’t overthinking it. Instead, he was yearning as he grasped at the straps of your bra, trying to pull it over your head, as was done with the dames back in his day, but the effort seemed more difficult. Lightly leaning away from him, you reached around your back, unclamping the contraption before tossing it out of his sight.

He didn’t care to ask what the modern day had done to the garment, he was far too focused on your pert nipples, and how they stood to attention before him. The super soldier reached forwards, running his smooth hands upon the underneath of your breasts, before interacting with the present buds, softly tugging at them with his whimsical fingers.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” Released from you as a sign, instantly becoming pleased as Bucky stripped himself from everything but his underwear, leaving a nest of his clothes upon the wooden floor, as he leant his head down, capturing your left nipple within the warmth of his mouth, moaning lightly as your hands weaved through his locks, tugging lightly at the short roots. “Stop teasing Buck.”

He didn’t miss the way your eyes roll from the slowness of motions, and thus, he reached down, and snapped the band of your underwear, the ripping noise audible, as he then pulled his boxers down, revealing his bobbing cock, that was directing its tip towards your entrance.

With a glance down, he lightly drooled at the way your cunt clenched around nothing, quickly swiping his fingers through your slit, as he brought them up to his lips, humming contently at the flavour that graced his tastebuds. “Need to be in you doll.”

“Need you in me soldier.” You taunted back, digging your knuckles into his shoulders as you pressed him against you, pushing your tongue into his mouth, as he suddenly bottomed out inside of you, waiting for a moment for the pair of you to adjust to the sensations.

He was in you, filling you to the brim, as you tucked your heels into the base of his back, lightly rotating your hips up, as your tongue chased his own, sucking on it as you nipped at the end, causing him to unintentionally jerk his rigid cock into you.

That had prompted him to start moving, screwing his hands into the satin sheets either side of your head, as your bodies succumbed the others to waves of pleasure. It was a luxury, having an outlet to all the stress that your duty brought. If you could just pass the mantle on like Steve had done, and Clint was in the process of doing, you would.

But it was all you had known; the gritty route, that had spanned the entirety of your tale. And Bucky now became a part of it, as he became a part of you, unravelling your vulnerabilities with sleek thrusts into your cunt, and smooth words that had swept you from your feet and had landed you in a bed.

A bed thats structure was creaking from the strength behind the animalistic carnage that you spent on one another. His teeth pulled at your lip, opening your mouth so that you could use him as an oxygen mask. Neither one of you had noticed the door opened, and an unimpressed Sharon standing in the entry way, her agent arms crossed unamused.

She cleared her throat, which made Bucky still inside of you, and you to clutch onto his back, to cover the decency of your chest. “You let me go on the run, then you fuck in my bed. It’s like I’m not allowed to belong anywhere.”

“Sharon-“ she halted your speech by raising a finger, her eyebrows pointedly telling you not to bother trying to speak, as sweat beading down your body. Bucky subtly rolled from atop of you, quickly pulling the sheets over you both, giving Sharon views that she neither wanted nor appreciated.

That was grittiness, she was a hustler, not a once avenger. A part of you wished she would understand that, as much as it would be painful to hear, she hadn’t been the top of anyone’s list. She had disappeared, and from so, she had became unreachable, practically falling off the face of the earth.

But she had been here, in Madripoor, the island of bones and whatever else Zemo had described it to be. “You two fucked in my bed. Okay.” She remained cool headed, her eyes trailing through the various fabrics among her floor. “Thought I’d tell you to get ready, and to blend in, though you two have that part already figured out. There’s some clothes in the wadrobe, and from what I can tell, you’re going to need new underwear.”

She bothered no longer once she had informed you of what she had told the other men. Instead she simply left, only for you to brace your head back into the quality pillows, slumping, and dreading the journey ahead.

Though you seemed restless, Bucky still thought of you as a muse. His hands grasped your chin, leading your lips to his own, as he sucked on your bottom one, his right hand grasping one of your breasts, as he pulled you atop of him, your skin flushed as you steadied your weight over his tough thighs.

“Now this is a dangerous sight.” He clicked his teeth, trailing his large hand down from your jaw, surpassing the middle of your chest, to your hip, which he grasp, as he shuffled you up just a little, so that you were seated upon the base of his cock.

“I can show you dangerous Barnes.” You smirked, adjusting the both of you so you were ready to sink down on his length. Your hands softly stroked his erect shaft, as you tapped his tip upon your pussy, before pushing down, filling yourself up one more.

Madripoor was a bad place, but good things could come out of visiting the skull island. This was the job, though, breaks were prompted, and were you glad that Bucky had became your little bit of calm in the arising trouble in the world.

“Fuck.” He groaned beneath you, his balls clenching as he felt you writhe all the way down to his base, beginning to bounce upon him, the years of training that you had endorsed coming in handy as it had helped your stamina. He was a super soldier after all, you were surely going to need it.

[coalitiongirl]

Fic Recs (under 300 edition)

So I wanted to get back to reading Swan Queen fic regularly, and I asked people to rec longfic that they'd read (not written) and loved that had fewer than 300 kudos! I haven’t read most of these, but I’ve collected them here so y’all can go through the list and discover some new fics with me! Please try to kudos and review every fic that you read! It means the world to the writers and will keep em writing, and then we all win. 😁

Atonement by SgtMac (M): With Regina's magical heart failing thanks to years of previous evil, Emma and Regina and Henry (and Granny!) set out to save her life by traveling to the Enchanted Forest and requesting help from ancient magical beings known as the Guardians. Given a mission as simple as it is impossible - to achieve atonement by creating peace - the ladies find themselves joining a rebellion and fighting for the very soul of the Enchanted Forest all while trying to help Regina to understand that the self-loathing and guilt which have driven most of her actions don't have to doom her chance for a new beginning or even, a chance to live and love again. A S4(ish) SQ love story set against the turmoil of war and the chaotic savagery of the old world.

Blood and Sand by cheshire6845 (E): A/U The Savior is a slave forced into the role of fighting as a gladiator for the House of Hearts. The odds are against her survival as she will have to win in the arena, navigate Cora's schemes, outlast a general's vengeance, and not be killed out of spite by the current House of Hearts Champion - Regina the Undefeated. This story follows the major plot points of Starz Spartacus with some twists along the way.

But what if there was no time by KizuRai (M): When she wakes up, it's dark. She can't move, she can't see, she can't feel and she can't hear. Where am I? She feels a forceful oppression, pressing her down, draining her of her energy and she's powerless to stop it. How did I get here? The question of here is relative, she's not even sure where here is. What happened? There must be some reason for being stuck here but her memory is fuzzy, like all her thoughts are being sifted through a filter. Who am I? She's not sure if she actually exists or she suddenly became sentient in the darkness.She hears a voice reverberating in the distance, it's distorted and quiet but she hears it all the same. It breaks the monotony of the silence. Someone's coming for her, they will get her out. She's just not sure she wants them to as the price might be too great.

Finding Home by evl_rgl (T): “I wanted to remember you so badly that I pulled back your cursed town just so that the memories would make sense. I needed you so badly that even when I had no memory of you, I still tried to find you.” Regina gave Emma and Henry memories of a happy life together before they fled Pan’s curse, leaving them with no memories of their lives in Storybrooke. However, when the memory spell shows signs of failing, threatening to rip apart the minds of both Emma and Henry, Regina makes a drastic choice to go back and fix it, understanding that it will mean living alone in a world where her son doesn’t know her. Was the spell really faulty, though? (swanqueen)

Five Flames by MariaComet (U): In the past, Emma Nolan disconnected from her peers in high school, preferring to keep to herself. In her sophomore year of high school, she decided to try and join the boy’s wrestling team because she was bored. She didn’t expect herself to become the champion of the most bullied kid in school or the secret best friend of the school queen. She also didn’t expect to join a club that would change her life. In the present, Emma is trying to cope with a humiliating loss in her martial arts career. She claims to be “training” but is stuck in limbo between wanting to retire and try again. She is isolated from her former best friend, Regina Mills, a local celebrity chef and the rest of her old friends. When one of them calls her with an idea to honor their deceased teacher, she is confronted with unresolved feelings and questions about how powerful love truly is.

A Glamour of Truth by PrincessCharming (T): After 2x10, Regina uses magic to show Emma the obvious truth. A tentative trust forms between them amid hilarious bickering. With Emma's help, Regina struggles to regain a place in her son's life... until Cora arrives, wanting her daughter back. Pieces of Regina's past emerge showing that the board was set long before the game started. The final battle begins soon.

His Dark Materials 'verse by MoonlitMidnight (M): A modern Alternate Universe in which Dæmons (the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner self' that takes the form of an animal) are present. In which Emma and Regina have led slightly different lives and they make slightly different choices.

How Many Miles to Avalon? (WIP) by RavenOutlander (E): Regina would do anything to save Emma from the darkness and bring her back home safe and sound. Even put up with the two idiots, Captain Guyliner and a bunch of dwarves she decidedly wanted to drop off at the nearest exit. But in their search for Emma, they find that she might not need that much saving after all. Caught up in a search for the infamous Philosopher Stone, an all out war between DunBroch and Camelot, and ghosts from the past to haunt her every waking moment, Regina finds herself scrambling to keep her and her family's happy endings from falling apart.

The Hyperion by FrankenSpine (M): After wishing upon what she believes is a shooting star, Emma Swan finds herself aboard the Hyperion, the royal starship of an alien Queen from a faraway galaxy. She quickly learns of the tensions between the Queen's people and her own, but the Queen takes an interest in her and agrees to take her away from Earth forever. Adventure awaits. *(Loosely based on Guardians of the Galaxy with just a hint of Farscape)*

If Wishes Came True (It Would've Been You) by Angeii_K (M): After Regina films a guest appearance on her friend Neal’s popular show, he invites her to spend the weekend with him and his girlfriend. What she never expected was to actually like the woman. Sparks fly between the two, which results in them questioning everything and making choices they will later regret. 4 years later, they meet again in the most unexpected of ways. Now co-stars on the same show, they are forced to work through the emotions from their last encounter. What will happen next? Only time will tell.

The King Doesn’t Have To Know (WIP) by highheelsandchocolate (M): The White Knight had never seen anyone like her before: the Queen was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her possessive yet neglectful husband, however, was another thing entirely.

The Lich by Dangereaux (M): Gay disaster Emma, exasperated Regina, and a monster. A Halloween special.

Maybe if We Close Our Eyes we Can Reach the Stars by wellthizizdeprezzing (T): Emma is a lonely astronaut. Regina is an adventuring alien. Their paths cross leading them onto a journey of new discovery. Between galaxies and many miles of cold black space, despite not speaking the same language, they manage to fall for each other. An out of this world love story.

A prisoner long forgotten by sugarsweet_19 (M): ‘I wish I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood and as black as the wood of the window-frame. Soon after she had a little girl, who was as white as snow, with lips as red as blood and with her hair as black as the ebony of the window-frame. She was therefore called Snow-white.” This is how our story starts but how will it end?The evil queen as been locked up in a tower and forgotten that is until princess Emma looks for a place to hid from her parents after they tell her she has to marry Neal the son of the dark one.

Revenge of the Three Little Pigs by mskyo (M): Regina and Emma find themselves alone and looking for the rest of their party. The Evil Queen must face the consequences of her past actions. Will Emma come to her aid, or understand that justice must be served... *Some chapters have fairly graphic sex, and violence*

Things I Almost Remember by cheshire6845 (T): A/U Despite an oncoming war between the Dark and the Light, Emma and Regina are best friends growing up in the Enchanted Forest. When war does come, they find themselves on opposite sides. Regina will have to defy her mother to save Emma. Will Emma be able to save Regina when Cora curses her daughter to live in the Land without Magic?

What We Make (WIP) by DiazTuna (M): “My mother.” He says calmly. He’d known all along, she’s aware. But he’d known that today would be the day that would get this going. She wants to ask what it was like, to have woken up this morning, laced up his boots and walked into hell just knowing. “It’s programmed the cyborg to kill her. Before I have a chance to be born.” -In which the leader of the future sends his best soldier back to the past to save his mother from a killer cyborg. Terminator AU.

The Wrong Way by pcworth (M): Takes place right after Zelena steals Regina's heart. Zelena offers Regina a chance to go back in time with her and change both of their lives for the better. But what will be the price of that decision. Slow-burn to SwanQueen

zombie trash by 13pens (T): Zelena could have her brain and eat it, too. Fic operates on three premises 1. this takes place in any universe where zelena is a reformed asshole 2. zombies are a thing and exist iZombie style 3. i have NO chill

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

A Pure Soul: Nearly Taken (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!autistic!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: The day (y/n) comes back to the compound after being told all those nasty things takes a toll on their mental health and self-esteem. Unfortunately it gets to a point that Wanda hoped it would NEVER reach.

Request?: Still none.

Word Count: 3,456

Warnings: Ableism, eugenics mention, r-word slur, attempted suicide, attempted overdose, hurt and comfort.

Notes: This is a sort of “in-between scene” from “A Pure Soul.” The rate of suicide is 3 times higher in autistic people because of the world’s lack of understanding and willingness to accommodate us. Plus being told the world would be better off without you, along with people looking for ways to make sure we’re not born....that’s gonna take a toll. So it makes sense for these feelings to emerge.

=============================================

You know that the world isn’t very kind to the disabled.

You know that the world wishes people like you wouldn’t exist.

But that doesn’t make what happened hurt any less.

You were out shopping when you ran into your best friend from high school. Except....this friend wasn’t the same as you knew them. No, instead they showed you their true colors.

“Oh hey, (y/n),” they said.

Tone has never been your specialty.

“Hey!” you exclaimed happily as you were looking through the books at your local bookstore. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

“Better. How’s the treatment coming along?”

This confused you.

“Treatment?”

They nodded.

“For that disease you call autism.”

This struck a chord, and it struck HARD. How could they say something like that?!

“D-disease?!”

They smirked.

“I mean, it just makes us humans lives harder to be around your kind.”

What?!

“What the hell’s gotten into you?!” you exclaimed. “I thought you were my best friend!”

“Oh?”

They pretended to wrack their brain.

“Oh! Yeah, I was such a great actor in that part. I should get an Oscar. Here’s the tea; I lost a bet and had to be your best friend for those four hellish years. I can’t believe they wanted me to suffer that much.”

Your heart began to crack. It was all....an act?

“You took my high school years away from me, made me miserable. I could’ve won prom royalty, but no one voted for me because I associated myself with your species. I’m glad you’re out of my life now. You’re nothing but a burden and the world would be so much better off without you. Why not do us that favor?”

Your heart shattered. You were so plagued with shock that you didn’t notice them push you to the ground and spit on you before walking away with a satisfied chuckle. For the next few minutes, you couldn’t say or do anything. You were just frozen to the spot, their words bouncing around your head.

Finally you were able to feel both the physical and emotional pain. Pursing your lips, you got up, kept your head down, and quickly left the bookstore, trying not to let the tears fall.

===============================================

In the elevator, heading up to your floor, you can barely form a new thought. All you can think of is that hurtful interaction. 

Burden, your kind, your species, disease....

It all hurt. 

And the worst part is that you can’t help but think that they’re right.

But your thoughts are jolted by the elevator bell. As usual you find the Avengers hanging out in the lounge. Nat and Clint are chatting with Wanda. Tony and Peter are working on homework. You can barely see what the others are doing. 

Almost instantly, Wanda’s eye falls on you. She has a smile on her face, but it falls when she sees you, as she instantly knows that something is wrong. 

“(Y/N)!” she whispers worried.

She rushes over and gives you a gentle hug, but you practically squeeze the life out of her. The other Avengers also come to your aid. 

“What happened?” Wanda asks you.

You gulp as she and Nat lead you to the couch.

“I....” you begin as you sit down. “I was out shopping....and I ran into my best friend from high school....”

You tell them the entire interaction. Shocked looks are nearly all around by the end.

“That’s seriously messed up,” Nat says in a mix of disgust and anger.

The others nod in agreement, except for Wanda. Instead she begins to tear up. 

“My sweet angel,” she weeps softly as she hugs you closer and pets your head. “Oh, my sweet, sweet angel. None of what they said is true, not one bit of it. You’re an absolute joy to have around and you’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. You bring so much to the Avengers and to our lives. Autism is not a disease. It’s a part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Wanda’s right,” Peter nods. “You’re wonderful, (y/n). You’re one of the best friends I could ever ask for.”

“And you bring a lot of new perspectives,” Nat adds. “You came into our lives when we needed you the most, especially Wanda.”

They all take turns giving you words of comfort and encouragement as well as letting you cry. Wanda stays the closest to you, to no one’s surprise, hugging you tightly. Her embrace is exactly what you need right now; so warm and loving. 

Tony, though not the most emotional person, does feel sympathetic and even angered at the person who said that to you; even though you’re on the opposite side of the Accords, he decides to get your favorite food for dinner. It’s not the greatest gesture of sympathy, but it’s definitely something. After that, you take a nice, warm shower and get into some fresh, soft pajamas. Wanda’s waiting for you in your bedroom, and surprises you with some soft socks that match your pajamas.

“I removed the fabric tags too,” she tells you.

Your heart melts a bit more for her. How someone as kind, attentive, and loving as her could ever be considered a terrible person is beyond you. You let her put them on your feet and they feel amazing. You wriggle your toes in them, smiling. 

“You like them?” she asks you.

“I love them,” you giggle before turning to Wanda. “And I love you.”

She smiles and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you too, my angel.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night together, cuddling up close with one another, watching sitcoms, singing quietly. You doze off in her arms.....

But that doesn’t mean it’s over.....

==============================================

You’re not someone who easily forgets how things make you feel, and what that person said still makes you feel like shit. Now whenever you go out, you’re worried that you’re going to run into them. You keep your guard up and walk as quickly as you can. Every outing feels like a fight for survival, but you try to stay strong so that you don’t bother the others. You try to keep a smile on your face. You need to be strong.....

.....But even the strong reach their limits.

It’s a little after you found out they became catatonic. You’re at a coffee shop, nearly empty, when someone else walks in. It’s a friend of that person. You keep your head low as they place their order; four cups of black coffee, extra hot. Your anxiety is increasing, but you don’t want this person to think you’re weak. You keep your back to them, hearing the door open again. 

The other person is called for their order. Maybe you can finally get out of here.

The next thing you know, you feel something steaming hot being poured down the back of your shirt, on your head, thrown in your face, (which you luckily cover most of with your arms) and splattered on your arms and legs. Standing up, you cry out in pain as you whirl around to see 4 people from high school, among them the friend of your former best friend.

“It’s your fault my best friend can’t function, you retard!” the friend snaps as they push you around roughly.

“No one wants you on this planet,” spits another.

“You’re nothing but a parasite!”

“You just weigh people down!”

“You’re an embarrassment to society!”

“Why don’t you just end this?”

“It’ll be better that way!”

“Your birth was a mistake!”

By this time, you’re hardly a thread’s width away from a meltdown and you look at the cashier for help, but nothing. You try to take out your phone to call for help, but you end up slipping on the coffee, falling to the ground hard and in an odd position, hearing a crack. Pain surges through your body as you look at your arms; burn marks are beginning to form.

After they kick at you for a bit and spit on you, they leave. You look up at the cashier. 

“Why....didn’t you help?” you whimper with a whistle in your voice.

No answer. 

They don’t help you up either. Crawling to the door, you use a nearby booth to bring yourself back up to your feet. Suddenly you feel an intense surge of pain in your left leg, and not just from the burns. You look to see that it’s swollen and turning reddish-purple. You reach into your coat and get out your phone only to discover that it’s dead. Wanda’s going to be worried sick....you hate making her worry, and she’s been worried sick these last few weeks to the point where it’s taking a toll on her; so on the way back, you decide to take one worry out of her life for good.

======================

It’s dark when you get back to the compound. And lucky for you, the elevator is closed for repairs. You limp up the stairs, finally reaching the compound. As quiet as a dust mite, you open the door, biting down on your lips to keep yourself from crying out in pain; unfortunately, your lips took some burn damage as well. Limping to the bathroom, you shut and lock the door. You search the medicine cabinet and find some pills.

“This should do the trick,” you whisper.

You try to quietly position yourself on the floor so that you won’t hit your head. You want to be able to pass as peacefully as possible. But something gives in your left leg and you fall, letting out a loud cry of agony. Realizing your mistake, you quickly fiddle with the lid of the bottle as you hear footsteps rush in. You finally get the lid open and begin to pour out the whole bottle into your hand, hoping to get it in in time--

Click!

The lock turns scarlet, clicks, and the door swings opens. 

“(Y/N)!”

A terrified Wanda immediately snatches the pills and bottle from you with her powers. She makes them disappear before heading to your side, tears already flowing from her eyes.

“My sweet angel.....” she squeaks as she kneels in front of you gently taking ahold of your hands. “I didn’t realize you were feeling this terrible. I’m so sorry things have reached this point.”

You look away guiltily. 

“No, I’m sorry....it’s my fault. I never said....anything. You....you’ve been so stressed these past few weeks....all of you. I didn’t want to make it worse on you, so....I just kept quiet.”

Wanda shakes her head.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (y/n). It can be scary, but there’s no shame in reaching out. We all need help sometimes.”

Other footsteps rush in.

“What happened?” Nat asks. “Did (y/n)---?”

“Almost,” Wanda gulps. “We need to get them to the emergency room.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“Are you fine?” Wanda asks.

You realize that it’s pointless to lie, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m not....”

“Then we need to take you to the emergency room.....”

That’s when she sees the burns and leg.

“Especially to treat these.....what happened?”

As they carry you to the car, you tell them about the run-in at the coffee shop, them pouring the hot coffee on you, how they were telling you all of these things, how the cashier did nothing to help, how you heard that crack. Both of them are disgusted and horrified at those monsters.

“I don’t care what they say,” Nat tells you as they get you inside. “I’m glad that you’re here.”

“I am too,” Wanda agrees as she gets in the front seat. “We’re here for you.”

“But.....my autism.....”

Wanda gently takes ahold of your fingers, careful to avoid the burns.

“My angel.....I can only imagine how isolating it feels to be in a world that’s not made for you, but your autism is part of who you are. It’s what makes you unique. If the world refuses to accommodate for people like you on their own, we’ll help them to see that they need to, and we’ll help advocate with you.”

Nat nods as she starts the car up and the three of you head for the ER.

“I....I feel selfish worrying you like this and even attempting....I just thought....you’ve been so stressed and I thought it’d be better to take one worry out of your life.”

“You have nothing to feel selfish about,” Wanda assures you. “What you did wasn’t selfish. You’re in pain, and wanting to do something to stop that pain isn’t selfish. But there are better ways to deal with the pain, and I want to help you with those. (Y/N), I can say with 100% certainty that I’m glad to have you in my life, through the good and the bad.”

Tears flow down your face as the three of you silently drive to the ER.

=============================================

It takes several hours for you to be treated, along with a few more hours of consultation for your mental health. Some of the burns are treated through surgery, so you have to stay for a little over a week to make sure you recover and stabilize. Your leg is put in a cast, and Wanda comes to visit you everyday. You feel much better with her and Nat.

A psychologist comes in to discuss a safety plan with you. You decided to ask Wanda if she’d come and discuss it with them. She said yes and Nat also decided to help. You all work out what works in terms of coping mechanisms, people you can talk to, calming techniques, etc,. The psychologist also recommends regular counseling. Wanda asks if there are any remote options for counseling, as it’s going to be difficult for you to get there with your leg, (Also, she’s a little worried that the therapist might try to take you away from her, but she does show concern for your leg) and to her relief, there is. 

You’re discharged after about a week, but you’re not to be left alone for a few days to another week or two, just to be sure. Well, it’s more of Wanda’s recommendation than psychologist’s orders, but the psychologist also thinks that that could be a good idea. You’re not really complaining; it’s more time to spend with Wanda. And she’s certainly not complaining either.

For that time, especially, she makes sure you know that you’re loved, wanted, valued. She practically dotes on you; as if she hadn’t been doting on you before, she’s especially pampering you now. The other Avengers also get the 411, and decide to help. If you need pain or sleep medications, one of them brings the proper dose to you. They take turns spending time with you and getting to know you more. If they need to go out on a mission, Wanda volunteers to stay with you, but if she’s absolutely needed there, she entrusts your care to Vision, a robot who’s exceptionally caring. You and Wanda regularly discuss possibly adding him to the relationship, but you’re not sure if she’s being serious or not. 

On one night, Wanda’s caring for you. After applying the prescribed cream on your burns, she helps you find an oversized t-shirt to wear as PJs. 

“This one’s softer than the others,” you note.

“I went looking for a shirt with a softer material than normal,” she tells you as she prepares a small dose of melatonin for you, one that you’ve been taking to combat the nightmares of those events in the hospital. “I know how much it tends to make you feel discomforted if there is one. I also made sure it was a tagless shirt.”

You smile and sigh.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve an angel like you, Wanda,” you tell her.

Hearing this she smiles and blushes.

“If anyone’s the angel, it’s you,” she says as she gives you the melatonin. “You’ve been there for me even when I’m at my absolute worst.”

“So have you.”

You take the melatonin before Wanda brings you your toothbrush and toothpaste. You brush thoroughly before spitting it into a cup that Wanda disposes of. 

“You know, I could go to the bathroom and do this myself,” you tell her kindly.

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m just worried, my angel.”

“What if I wash my face tonight with the door open?” you suggest.

Wanda gives this a little thought and nods. 

“I can work with that.”

Using your crutches, you walk to the bathroom where you sit on a stool in front of the sink. You wash and dry your face before heading to the bed with Wanda helping you get tucked in.

“You’re seriously an angel,” you tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone outside of my family that’s been as concerned about my well-being as you.”

“And you’re too sweet,” she smiles again as she finishes getting ready for bed herself. “If anyone’s the undeserving, I don’t deserve you.”

“No, it’s the other way around,” you say.

“No, I’m certain I’m right.”

You giggle.

“Wanda, if we try to prove one right over the other, we’ll be going at this all night.”

She smiles as she goes over to the other side of the bed. 

“Well, I know you’re an angel,” she tells you as she gets under the covers. “You came to me in a dark time, and you shone a beam of sunlight through the shadow.”

The two of you look at each other as the fairy lights hang above you. Of course you’re looking at the bridge of her nose, but you can’t help but glance up at her eyes a few times; one time they catch you, and they are stunning. They’re like emeralds to you; vivid, entrancing, mystical. Just a single glance, and you know there’s so much to know about, so much to discover, and you become lost in them. 

“I’m so proud of you, (y/n).”

Wanda’s gentle voice echoes against your eardrums and dances around your mind, soothing you into drifting even more. But then she boops you on the nose, making it twitch like a bunny’s and snapping you out of your trance.

“Huh?” you ask, looking lost.

Wanda giggles.

“You are too cute,” she tells you. “I was saying that I’m so proud of you for pushing through all of this. It’s not the easiest thing to do, and.....well.....I’m glad you’re still alive, my sweet little sunbeam.”

You blush upon hearing this and turn away, but Wanda gently redirects your face forward.

“There’s no need to hide, my angel. I want to see your lovely face.”

At that moment, you begin to feel drowsy and bring yourself closer to her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough, Wanda,” you sigh.

She brings you in closer and you melt into her embrace.

“Being with you, and you being safe and happy and alive.....that’s the only thank you I need.”

Leaning in, she kisses you gently on your forehead and you shyly return one on her cheek. 

“Goodnight, my angel,” she tells you as she brushes a strand of hair out of your way.

“Wait,” you say as she turns to switch the lights off. “Will....will you sing me those lullabies again? Please?”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

Turning the lights off, she returns to embrace you and softly sings the Sokovian lullabies her parents used to sing to her. As you drift off to sleep, you don’t know what’s going on in her mind. What’s going on with her mind? Her master plan, of course. Tonight’s the night she will finish what she started. Those monsters at the coffee shop messed with the wrong person. For the past few nights, she’s been paying them visits, doing the same things she did with your former best friend, and sending subconscious suggestions for them to gather in one place, thinking they’d be safer together. And now they have.

Tonight she’s going to make sure their minds are gone for good, but not before making them feel the pain and agony she imagines you felt. Her anger with them is in full throttle, so it’s going to be even worse for them. Telekinesis, fear projection, hypnosis, inducing extreme fear, she’ll do whatever she has to. Wanda will not leave until they’re nothing more than hollow husks, shadows of their former selves. With how they’d been acting on those nights, and how much Wanda has done so far, it won’t take too long. 

Because no one-and she means no one-gets away with hurting her precious angel.......ever.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Their Future Son Comes To See Them [Request]

A/N: Just reminds me of those tiktoks, “is that dad on the poster?” “WhIcH oNe Is It?” Different tropes for the guys since I want to try and see if you guys liked that

SEOKJIN: College Au

There was a flash of green light coming from behind one of the bookcases in the college library and Jin flinched turning to look over his shoulder to see a teenage boy coughing up a storm, 

"You okay?" Jin asked as he slowly got up from his chair to help the boy, he turned to look at Jin and smiled brightly while jumping up and down on the spot. 

"It worked!" He yelled out, earning a death glare from the librarian, 

"It worked?" Jin questioned trying to look behind the case where the boy had emerged but there was nothing there that could explain the green flashing. 

"So...Where is she?" Jin frowned at the question, looking around the library to see if the boy could have been speaking to anybody else but there was nobody besides Jin and the librarian there. 

"...Who?"

"Mum! Where is she? I know you guys said you met in the library but I didn't think you meant it," Jin frowned even more as he stared over at his desk, rubbing his head. Maybe he'd just fallen asleep and this was some kind of weird dream he was having so he slowly made his way back to the desk and sat down.

"There she is!" The boy yelled out in excitement, sitting beside Jin as you entered the library, your head down in a book as you walked towards the table behind Jin completely ignoring him.

"I must have messed up the dates, I thought you said you and mum met today...I wanted to see it," Jin shook his head before turning to look at the boy. 

"What are you talking about? Is this some kind of sick joke?" Jin had always had a crush on you, it was no secret amongst him and his friends so he figured this was their way of pranking him for it.

"Dad...No, I came from the future to see you...I wanted to watch you guys meet for the first time." Jin shook his head even more not believing it for a single second but then he heard you gasp in shock, his whole body turned to look at you as you clutched your finger. 

"Paper cut," Jin walked over to you, cleaning up your finger while giving you a band-aid, 

"I always come prepared," You laughed softly at him introducing yourself while your future son sat back and observed everything there was.

When Jin turned back to question the boy on who he really was he was gone and just like that he was talking to you about the book you were reading and what you were doing for the prom that was coming up.

YOONGI: Idol!Au

Yoongi stared at the boy that was sitting on his studio sofa, 

"Oh sweet, you have these in the future too!" The boy yelled out reaching forward to take some of the sweets that were sitting in the middle of the coffee table in front of Yoongi's sofa,

"How- Did somebody let you in?" Yoongi could have sworn he hadn't heard the bell to his door go off to signal someone was coming into the room and he hadn't been working that hard on anything. 

"No, I used my time machine, I wanted to see what you were doing today eighteen years ago...You grounded me so I just wanted to explore for a bit." Yoongi stared at the boy before shaking his head, 

"I'm asleep. I just fell asleep because I'm working too hard." He mumbled to himself as he began turning back to the computer and working, 

"If I was in your dreams how would I know the password to your computer and the fact that your crush is going to meet you in fifteen minutes." Yoongi's hand on the mouse tightened and the boy smirked, 

"No one knows about my crush on Y/n," He grumbled turning to look back at the boy who was nodding, 

"I do, in fact, mum knows she's just waiting for the right time to do something about it. She's still stuck on the whole, "It'll ruin our friendship" thing but you win her over in the end," 

"You keep saying, mum, who's your mum?" The door to Yoongi's office opened and you walked into the room with food in your hands, 

"I bought lunch! I also stopped by your favourite coffee place and got your favourite snacks," You stopped speaking when you saw the boy on his sofa, 

"I didn't know you had a friend-"

"I was just leaving, have fun." The boy got up and headed to the door, with your back to him he pointed at you and mouthed, "that's mum" to Yoongi before leaving the room with a giant smile on his face, Yoongi more confused than ever.

HOSEOK: Non!Idol AU

"You know, it would all go a lot smoother if you just spoke to her," A voice from behind Hoseok said making him jump, kneeing the table and spilling his drink all over the floor. 

"What? S-Speak to who?" He stuttered out at the teenage boy that was now sitting in front of him while you came over to clean up the spilt drink. 

"Her," The boy mumbled as you walked away to get some cleaning supplies, 

"What are you talking about?" The boy sighed rolling his head back as he stared at the ceiling, 

"Mum always said you were clueless when you were younger," He turned to look back at Hoseok who seemed even more confused than before. 

"Talk to her, give her your number. She's sick of dropping you hints that you don't pick up on," Hoseok shook his head as he tried to think what the boy was talking about. 

"You said mum said I was clueless...Do I know you?" The boy rolled his eyes, 

"Ah, what the hell, you won't remember. I'm your son from the future...I came to tell you that mum was always sick of your taking your time on asking her out...So just do it," Hoseok blinked trying to decide if he had heard that sentence right or if he was just starting to lose his mind. 

"She was really pretty at my age...Not that she's not beautiful you know in the future but dad...Seriously, take a shot before you lose-" He stopped speaking when you came back to the table, 

"I'll just get this cleaned up, is there anything I can get you for you Hobi and your new little friend?" You turned to look at the boy and that was when you and Hoseok both noticed he was gone,

"Weird...I didn't hear the bell on the door," You frowned but Hoseok smiled at you, 

"He must have had something to do, I didn't even know him...Do you maybe...Wanna hang out this weekend?" Your eyes lit up, you'd been dreaming of him asking you out for weeks. 

"Sure, text me." You whispered, writing your number down on an order form and giving it to him before hopping back behind the counter.

NAMJOON: Book shop AU

"Isn't that like the fifth time you've been in there this week, mum is going to think you're insane," Namjoon jumped at the boy that was standing in front of him when he came out of the store. He looked too old to be your son but Namjoon stared at him, 

"I didn't know Y/n had a son," Namjoon said to the boy who shook his head, 

"She doesn't yet, you and her will have one in the future and that's me." Namjoon laughed loudly before covering his mouth as he saw people staring over at him with a look of confusion on their faces. 

"What are you talking about?" The boy sighed leaning against the wall that was behind him, 

"I know you'll never believe me but I'm your future son, you and Y/n end up together and you both end up very happy." Namjoon smiled at the thought of it, being with you. It had been his dream for the longest time since he had a huge crush on you but he never for a second thought that the boy in front of him would even be his future son. 

"What makes you think I would believe-" He stopped speaking when there was a flash of green light and the boy was missing from where he had previously been standing. 

"I need to get some sleep," Namjoon grumbled, walking off in the direction of the dorms.

JIMIN: Best Friends Sister

Jimin walked past your bedroom door to see a boy standing in the door, 

"Oh...Are you Y/n's boyfriend?" He questioned as he felt jealously beginning to bubble inside of him at the thought of you having a boyfriend. Not that it was his business since you were Jin's younger sister and Jimin knew if he even tried to date you Jin would break every bone in his body. 

"No, God no! She's my mum! Ew!" Jimin frowned wondering if it was some kind of joke that he wasn't understanding but the boy looked around the room. 

"I came to see if you guys were together yet but I think I got the year wrong," He mumbled beginning to tap on a watch that was around his wrist, 

"What are you talking about? Got the year wrong? Mum?" The boy let out an unimpressed loud groan. 

"You and Y/n are my mum and dad...You guys will end up together, now if you'll excuse me-" He was cut off when a flash of green happened and Jimin was left in the room by himself. 

"Jimin? What are you doing in my room?" Your voice came from behind him and he jumped, trying to think of an excuse.

TAEHYUNG: Idol AU

"You can't be shy forever, you have to speak at some point." Taehyung stared at the boy in front of him, claiming to be his son from the future. Taehyung didn't believe him of course, what kind of person would believe something like that? 

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Taehyung mumbled, going back to working on the song he and Jimin were writing with one another, 

"Mum is about to walk through the door, you'll compliment her clothes, she'll compliment your looks and then you'll get so sweaty and nervous you leave the room. That's how mum remembers it anyway," The door handle wiggled and Taehyung filled with dread at the thought of talking you the way that the boy explained it would go down. 

"I'm joking. That's uncle Jimin, he'll go and get Mum in 3...2...1-"

"Y/N WAIT UP!" Taehyung's eyes widened as he realised the boy was telling him the truth, then he filled with joy as he realised he and you were finally going to be the ones to end up together...He just had to somehow pluck up the courage to talk to you properly without his heart combusting into a pile of ashes.

JUNGKOOK: Best friends Ex

"Whatever the boys are paying you, I'll pay you triple to leave me alone," Jungkook grumbled as the teenage boy sat on the end of his bed watching him closely then checking the date, 

"Oh shit. It's the day Uncle Taehyung found out you loved Y/n...Don't worry dad, it works out...Taehyung forgives you for falling in love with her and he lets you be happy." Jungkook shook his head wanting all of this to go away. He'd confessed to Taehyung about his hidden feelings for you and it started a huge fight between the two of them about how they were supposed to be friends. 

"You're just messing with me, it's Taehyung trying to get me back." He mumbled into the pillow but the boy sighed, 

"If it was Taehyung getting me back how would I know the date you and mum get married, that my middle name is Tae - after my uncle and that you had a weird scar on your left thigh that you got about three weeks ago that you haven't told anyone about." Jungkook froze as he stared up at the boy, 

"I gotta go, but just...Just believe you and mum will be together soon. I promise." With that the boy slowly began to vanish out of the room and Jungkook was left alone with his thoughts, thoughts of you and him finally being together and everyone being happy around you.

Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1​ @agustdjoon​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @that-anxious-bisexual​ @mwitsmejk​

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Assassins

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

 The soft light of the morning dawn slowly filtered into the room through cracks between the lavish curtains. Streaks of light bounded off the polished gold detailing of the rooms furniture and made the room appear as if the very stars themselves had come to adorn themselves upon the walls. So bright were the reflections that it managed to find their way underneath several layers of bed sheets and directly into the face of ambassador Glifin.

Roused from his seemingly peaceful sleep Glifin slowly pushed off the sheets one by one and rolled to his feet. The loud thuds of his hooves touching the floor sent a shudder through the room as he stood and stretched out, his general grogginess slowly shaking off. With a loud yawn finally leaving his throat he rose and shambled over to his desk to begin his day’s work.

Tonight he was hosting a party honoring visiting royalty from his home world on Argon. The prince had decided he wanted to visit this miserable planet he had been stationed on, though why anyone would want to visit this world was beyond him.

Glifin’s posting on the human homeworld had been sold to him as a great honor but in reality it had been a means to keep him from continuing his political rise. On Argon he had been a senator whose mere whisper was enough to make generals and minor nobles quiver in fear. His star struck ascension didn’t go unnoticed however and just before he was to be elected into the office of Artock Supreme and reside over the entire senate the royal family had stepped in and given him the position of ambassador to humanity.

Within the spam of a solar month he was shipped off the throne world and sent to this backwater dump of a world; were he had to smile and feign sincerity to these miserable sacks of flesh all the while his political powerbase slowly began to crumble in the senate.

Now fully consumed by feelings of dread over his situation Glifin did not hear the sudden knock at the door. Only after several more knocks did Glifin look up from his paper work.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opened and Glifin’s aide Jafal walked in and bowed.

“My apologies for disturbing you at this early hour, but Mr. Robinson has arrived with your evening wear for tonight’s event.”

Glifin nodded and shuffled his papers back into his desk and locked it just as a new figure entered the room.

“Say what you want about Argonian fashion, but they do have such a wonderful sense of aesthetics when it comes to room decoration.”

A slim human emerged from the doorway pushing a small cart with a metal rod built in holding up two clothing bags.

“You have a problem with Argonian styles?” Glifin said as he rose to his feet and walked over to Robinson as he pulled out a tiny box device and casually threw it down on the floor. The moment of contact it sprung open and in an instance a large set of mirrors emerged from it giving an impressive view from all sides.

“Oh far be it for me to question ones culture, “ Robinson continued as he opened the first bag and stepped aside for Glifin to see the contents, “but some would consider the amount of dead mammals your people adorn on themselves to be a tad morbid.”

From the corner of his eye Glifin saw Jafal’s face redden from anger but with a motion from his ambassador kept his tongue still.

“I would find it surprising for a human to find anything morbid with the amount of toxins you willingly consume.”

Robinson flashed a brief smile and shrugged. “You do have me there; personally caffeine will most likely be the end of me one day, but we’re not here to talk about my eventual demise.”

“An end that will come much sooner if you continue to waste my time with idle chatter.”

Humanities incessant need for small talk and idle conversation was something Glifin had never come to terms with; and this human fashion designer was by far the worst example he had ever put up with. Part of him viewed it as a challenge to see how long he could endure before snapping the tiny man’s neck, and though such a moment would no doubt bring him great pleasure the other part of him realized that Robinsons work was well regarded among prominent members of society. Not just with other humans, but with other alien dignitaries who had embassies on the human homeworld. It had been surprisingly an ambassador from the Hive that had recommended the human’s services when it was suggested that Glifin update his style to match his new role.

Walking up to the first black bag that Robinson had opened Glifin inspected the wardrobe.

Inside was a finely trimmed suit of Rygonian Leaper fur of a dark blue with a sash of Haponi tongue and a dashing pair of pants metal grey Roller Worm hide.

It was custom in Argonian culture to wear the skin of that which you have killed, thus the outfit before him was a prime example Glifin’s traditions.

“A fine work indeed,” Glifin said as he ran his fingers across the material, feeling the roughness against his skin. “For a human” he finished as he turned and smirked at Robinson.

“With the effort it took to obtain the materials you requested I would say it is nothing less than an example a miracle performed before your very eyes.”

Glifin stopped his examination of the attire and looked at the human. “For a miracle you sound so…displeased with your work.”

Robinson crossed his arms for a moment and pouted as if considering his next words.

“My work is perfection, I can assure you, but a man in my trade is not just meant to listen to the specifications of their client but their intention as well.”

“And your point?” Glifin queried.

After a moment he outstretched his hand and casually gestured to the Argonian clothing. “Is this really the message you want to be sending?”

Glifin looked at the suit again then back at Robinson. “I don’t understand.”

“If you go to the event dressed like this it will send the message that you still value your traditions, but I worry that it shows a disconnect with your current situation; almost as if you are attempting to relive the past.”

“You would appear as an old war hero trapped in past glories that the other guests would acknowledge, but not make to engage in conversation.”

Glifin opened to rebuke the human but stopped himself as he pondered the man’s words. Robinson stepped forward to the other black case. “Now this,” Robinson said as he slowly pulled down the zipper revealing the contents, “this would make you not only the talk of the party, but would make you the talk of the after party all the way back to your homeworld were many people would no doubt be very much interested in your on goings.”

“Each piece has been designed by some of the most dangerous animals on this planet, and in some cases far more ravenous then anything back on your respectable homeworld.”

Robinson went about and pointed out the specific materials used one by one.

“The body is made from a powerful species that inhabits the various swamps and wetlands around the globe with jaws so powerful they could cut you in two with a single bite.”

“Each of the buttons along the coat are the fangs of the most poisonous reptilian creatures on the planet; each one capable of killing a human let alone an Argonia ten times over with a single drop of their venom.”

“Now the pants I am particularly proud of as they are the skin of the deadliest hunter of all the planets seas. They can smell fresh blood from miles away and commonly take on prey twice their size.”

Gliffin heard Robinson go through the list of creatures but his expression remained emotionless.

“Why would these creatures be any more interesting than my own worlds?”

Robinson smiled. “Because everyone from your world already knows about them and have hunted the same creatures for generations. Yet I would be so bold as to wager my humble shop that none of them have ever faced down the black eyed stare of a great white shark, nor wrestled the deadly crocodile demons of the swamps, and most certainly have been quick enough to pluck out the teeth of rattle snakes just as they lunge to strike.”

“Neither have I,” Gliffin said with a hint of disgust in his tone, “and you would make a liar out of me for saying so.”

“My dear ambassador, who but you could say what you do or don’t in your free time?”

Robinson leaned forward and whispered into Gliffin’s ear “I am no doubt sure many of your females would find the idea of a striking Argonian such as yourself sneaking off to go hunting the unknown for sport a rather attractive quality.”

Glifin looked at the new set of clothing and then back at the original set of traditional clothes. He went back and forth for several moments before finally settling his gaze on the traditional garments.

“Take these away.”

_______________________________________

The lights outside Robinson’s humble shop slowly went off one by one as he walked between the displays straightening out garments and folding tossed aside pieces customers had casually put aside when the door rang.

“I’m sorry but we are closed for the night.” Robinson said as he returned behind the counter with a stack of clothes.

The figure slowly approached the counter and took off their hat. Robinson looked up from the register to see the figure was a Rohanan; a species known for its gel like appearance yet could collect random bits and bobs to create a sudo skeleton and present themselves as humanoid.

“That’s alright,” the Rohanan said, “I am here to pay for a set I ordered for a….friend.”

“Then they are most fortunate to have a friend such as you then.”

Robinson’s smiling nature unnerved the Rohanan but nonetheless they placed a small envelope on the table and slid it across. Robinson placed a hand on it and tapped his fingers several times against the contents inside before opening it and spilling the credit chips on to the table.

“Is it satisfactory?” the Rohanan said, their nervousness building as the human finished counting the chips.

“Oh yes indeed; I believe you have paid in full for your order.” With a swipe of his hand the human pushed the chips back into the envelope and sealed it. “Always a pleasure to deal with such an honest and upstanding man such as yourself during such troubling times.”

Robinson leaned in towards the Rohanan, his expression shifting from smiling to one of mild concern. “I heard there was a most unfortunate incident up at the Argonian embassy several nights ago.”

“Several guests including the visiting prince and ambassador himself all died from poisoning.” The Rohanan confirmed.

“How gruesome!” Robinson said as he recoiled in shock and finished putting away the remaining clothes while he talked over his shoulder.

The Rohanan regarded the human for a moment before continuing. “The strangest thing was that the poison was not native to this world, but is most common in the Hagar system under Dovorian rule.”

“A most embarrassing situation I am sure considering the Dovorian and Argonian people despise each other.”

“Indeed; one might wonder how such a toxin came into contact with them.”

Robinson shrugged and turned as he finished placing the final shirt back into the display. “With all of those fangs, bones, and animal skins I would not be surprised if someone grabbed a tooth or two that hadn’t been fully drained of its contents.”

The Rohanan laughed and placed their hat back on their head just as they stopped at the door.

“You were worth every penny, assassin.”

“An assassin you say?” Robinson’s smile returned and he casually waved to the departing customer “You must have me mistaken for someone else, as I am but a simple tailor.”

[helnjk]

By Its Cover - F.W.

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Word count: 3k

Summary: fred knows he’s quick to act and to judge, but what happens when it backfires with the pretty healer he meets at st. mungo’s? 

Warnings: malfoy!reader, mentions of hospitals, mentions of light injury, being estranged from one’s family, found family, adoption, insecurity 

A/N: this is for @theweasleysredhair‘s 9k writing challenge! my prompt was ‘i love you, but stop talking.’ so sorry i took this long to churn it out, but i hope you like it 💕

prompt is in bold

–

St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was always full of healers rushing through the halls and patients with the strangest afflictions. 

Y/N Malfoy donned her healer robes and walked confidently through one of the wards, on her way to deal with her newest patient. Some sort of accidental explosion. According to the file, he was a male, 23 years old, and had a history of finding himself in the emergency wing of St. Mungo’s. It was Y/N’s first time treating him, though. 

Pushing aside one of the curtains to the correct cubicle, she was met with the sight of a long and lanky redheaded man, lying on the hospital bed with patches of purple across his neck and exposed chest. Other than the fact that his skin was discolored, he seemed perfectly okay. 

His eyes sparkled with mischief and amusement as the nurse on duty made sure he was comfortable. Clearly, he was in no pain at all, or if he was, it wasn’t enough to stop him from sending flirty comments in her direction. Used to this kind of behaviour, the nurse simply rolled her eyes playfully and continued her routine checks. 

“Ah,” she noted when she saw Y/N walk in, “I’ll leave you in the very capable hands of Healer Malfoy now, alright?”

With a soft pat on the patient’s non-purple shoulder, she gave Y/N a tentative smile and nod before exiting the small cubicle and closing the curtains on her way out.

Y/N, however, didn’t miss the way her patient’s shoulders tensed as he heard her last name. Her heart sank slightly as she saw the playfulness in his eyes dim, but she refused to let her feelings get the better of her professionalism. After all, she was quite used to this treatment from patients and colleagues alike. 

“Hello mister,” she paused to check her clipboard, “Weasley. Now what can I help you with today? Could you tell me exactly what happened with the potion you were brewing?” 

 “Added the wrong amount of aconite,” came his curt reply. 

“Right,” she said, noting it down on his file, “And what other ingredients were mixed in the potion?”

“Look, I’m completely fine. Things like this happen all the time at my workplace, the patches of color will fade away eventually. I just need you to sign the release form.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed and her smile slipped into a small frown. This was going to be a tough one. She had recognized his last name and she knew he was a pureblood. There was no doubt in her mind that the moment he realized she was a Malfoy, he created an image in his mind that was the furthest thing from what she truly was. 

With a soft sigh, she prepared herself to deal with the resistance that would come from her reply, “I’m sorry Mr. Weasley, but I can’t let you go until–”

“Healer Malfoy, there you are!” said a little girl who was dressed in her own small hospital gown as she burst through the curtains. 

For a moment, both adults in the small space gaped at her as if she were a ghost. 

“Mattie!” Y/N said, surprised. “What are you doing all the way here, silly? You’re meant to be resting after the round of potions you took this afternoon.” 

Currently preoccupied by her small ward, Healer Malfoy didn’t notice the way Fred Weasley was staring at her. As if she had grown a second head. 

“But I missed you,” whined Mattie, wrapping her arms around one of Y/N’s legs. “You said you’d visit again to read books!”

A soft chuckle escaped Y/N’s lips, “Yes, but I said I’d come read books after my rounds and after you napped! Nurse Thomas must be looking all over for you.” 

The pout that the small child sent up at her nearly made it past Y/N’s strongholds. 

“But I want to stay with you, Healer Malfoy!” she whined, “Please!” 

With a bright eyed, stubborn toddler clutching onto her legs, she couldn’t possibly say no to the request. However, her keen awareness of the other critical pair of eyes on her gave her pause. 

“Oh alright,” she caved, taking a moment to glance back at her patient, “But you’ve got to be good while I just finish up with my patient here okay? He’s gotten into a bit of an accident and I have to help him out. We don’t usually have purple skin, right?”

“Right!” 

For the first time since she barged into the room, Mattie seemed to notice the redhead on the hospital bed. 

“How’ve you got purple skin?” she asked confidently. Fred’s eyebrows shot up towards his forehead at the direct question before a large grin spread across his face. 

Working at Wheezes gave him loads of experience when it came to curious little kids, and he was quick with his response, “I was making a secret experiment and it exploded all over me!” 

His tone was conspiratorial and just enough for the little girl to move away from her position clutching Y/N’s legs and to inch closer to him.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley was just about to tell me what other ingredients were in his secret experiment so that I can help put his skin back to normal.” 

Fortunately for the healer, Mattie’s presence aided in softening the redhead’s attitude towards her. With the little girl firing question after question for Fred to answer, he was much more calm and receptive to whatever Y/N needed to ask or know. 

Unknown to her, the reason why Fred was more compliant this time around was because he was busy trying to alter the image he had conjured in his head about what a Malfoy was, and the scene he had just witnessed. He hadn’t known any Malfoy to be as patient, considerate, and overall just kind to someone who was not their own. Yet here she was, perfectly balancing a needy-child and a patient who judged her too quickly. 

“Alright Mr. Weasley, I’m just going to pop out to get you the right potions to take for this and I’ve got to get Ms. Mattie over here back to her room,” said Y/N, “I’ll be right back.” 

“Bye Mr. Weasel! I hope you get to finish your secret experiment!” Mattie waved enthusiastically, turning from her position holding Y/N’s hand to get one last look at the redhead. 

When Y/N returned, Fred was sitting quietly on the bed, twirling his wand absentmindedly. The sound of her pushing back the curtains drew his eyes upwards towards her figure, and he sent her a tentative smile. 

Well that’s an improvement, she thought, returning the gesture slightly. 

“Alright,” she said, placing a box down next to him, “Here are the potions to take, there are two, you’ll have to drink them twice a day for the next three to four days or so. Your skin should return to normal by then.” 

Y/N watched as her patient’s eyes darted from the box of potions to her face then down to his hands. He seemed hesitant now, a far cry from the ease and calm that he donned the first time she saw him. 

Still, her job was done. She had equipped him with what he needed to heal and she had no jurisdiction over his temperament. 

“If you don’t have any questions–”

“How are you related to Draco Malfoy?” 

Fred’s question came out of the blue and it took Y/N off guard. Her heart clenched at the mention of her younger brother, the one she hadn’t seen in more than a decade. Still, the question is much too complicated and there’s so much history behind it that he doesn’t know about, she shook her head. 

“I’m sorry,” she began, clutching her clipboard close to her body, “But that is a very personal question and I don’t like to share that kind of information with patients.” 

She noticed him visibly swallow, “Right. You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s alright, Mr. Weasley. Don’t forget to take your potions, twice a day, for the next four days.” 

Y/N’s back is turned and she’s about to pull the curtain of the cubicle aside when she hears a faint, “Wait.” 

When she turned on her heel to face the redhead once more, there’s a sheepish expression on his face. He was rubbing the back of his neck slowly and the tips of his ears were tinged pink, “I-er, I’m sorry about how cold I was being towards you earlier. Is there a chance that I can make a better impression over coffee or something?” 

–

It’s a little awkward, Y/N had to admit. They were seated across from each other, clutching warm cups of coffee and taking sips periodically. 

She didn’t know what made her agree to meet Fred on one of her days off. Maybe it was the sincerity in his request, how he seemed eager to make a plan and see her outside her place of work. Or maybe it was her curiosity getting the better of her, knowing that he was a pureblood and what her father would call a blood traitor. 

Y/N had spent so many years hiding away from this part of wizard society, she didn’t know if she wanted to integrate herself back in.

“So, er,” Fred started, “Where’d you go to school? I don’t think I’ve seen you around Hogwarts, and you seem to be around my age.” 

That elicited a small smile from Y/N, “I went to Beauxbatons actually. Went all six years then got a healer apprenticeship at Mungo’s.” 

“Oh!” he exclaimed, “Do you know Fleur then? Fleur Delacour? Or well, she’s Fleur Weasley now.” 

“Of course I know Fleur,” she gushed, “We shared a dorm. One of the sweetest and strongest witches I know.” 

At long last they had a common denominator. After the stilted small talk was out of the way, conversation between them flowed freely. 

Fred, Y/N found out, was wit and cleverness all rolled up into a 6 foot frame. He seemed to have a sarcastic comeback to every quip she made. They made laughs tumble from her mouth and stitches appear in her sides. It was every bit exhilarating and charming. 

Y/N, Fred found out, was absolutely brilliant. Her mind seemed to be running a mile a minute but somehow she was able to put all of her thoughts into carefully worded sentences. He was caught off guard every time she let out a laugh, entranced by the effortless beauty that radiated from her smile. 

Sooner than they had liked, their coffee cups were emptied and they were both glancing at the clock.  

“I, uh, I really enjoyed myself, Fred.” Y/N smiled and gathered her things. 

He sent her a grin in reply, “Me too.” 

She could tell he was hesitant to say something, but she knew not to pry too much. Instead, she simply hoisted her bag over her shoulder. 

The next day, Y/N walked into St. Mungo’s to find Fred nervously shuffling around clutching a cup of coffee in his hand. When he caught sight of her, a smile stretched across his lips and he silently placed the warm cup in her hand. Without saying a word, he pressed a kiss on her cheek, blushed profusely, and waved. 

He had gone through the Floo before Y/N could say anything. When she took a sip, she was pleasantly surprised to note that it had been her exact order from the previous day. 

Slowly, Fred Weasley inched his way into Healer Malfoy’s daily routine. It didn’t surprise her anymore when she would spot him making small talk with the receptionist as she clocked into work. 

Like the first day, the first thing he would do was to hand her the cup of coffee. Some days he would stay and chat for a few minutes before he had to get to work, others he would have to leave right away. What always stayed constant, though, was the kiss on the cheek he would give her before leaving. 

–

“Alright, I’m sure you’re dying to know by now.” Y/N sipped her drink. 

She and Fred had gone out to dinner after weeks of him showing up at Mungo’s every morning. When he finally had the guts to ask her out, she took one look at him before saying ‘took you long enough.’ 

He had been the perfect gentleman the whole time, showing up at her flat with a bundle of flowers in hand, opening doors for her, asking if she was comfortable. Y/N found it extremely endearing to see the cheeky, witty wizard trying so hard to make sure she had a good time. 

Fred sent her a confused look, “What?” 

“How I’m related to Draco,” she explained, “Remember? You asked me the first day we met.” 

“Right. Right, yeah.” 

Despite him trying to appear as if his curiosity hadn’t peaked, Y/N could see the spark of recognition in his eyes. She knew it was time to finally tell him everything. 

She took a deep breath, “He’s my brother.” 

Fred, who was in the process of taking a sip of his own drink, choked on the liquid and began to violently cough.

“I-what?!” he exclaimed, “How are you Draco Malfoy’s sister? How did I not know he had a sister?” 

The absolute disbelief in her boyfriend’s face elicited a small laugh from Y/N, “Because I never went to Hogwarts. Ran away from home when I was pretty young, ended up living with Andy.” 

“Andy…” Fred mumbled, mulling over the information, “You mean Andromeda? Tonks?” 

She nodded, “Yeah. My house was actually a safe house during the last bit of the war, I don’t know if you remember.” 

“Godric now I feel like even more of a huge dumbass for treating you the way I did when I first heard your last name.” 

Y/N’s hand reached over the table and squeezed Fred’s. Her warm smile and kind eyes told him everything he needed to know. He had definitely apologized enough for how quickly he had judged her when she was introduced to him at Mungo’s. She knew that he knew who she really was, and not what her family name meant. 

– 

Fred watched as his girlfriend paced nervously. He wasn’t even quite sure that she knew what she was doing, but as she strode across the room, her bottom lip remained caught under her teeth and her hands were fidgeting with the bottom of her shirt. 

“Sweetheart,” he sighed after letting her walk back and forth for long enough, “You’ve got to calm down.”

“I’m totally calm!” she exclaimed, turning quickly to face him. The volume of her statement startled the both of them and Fred sent her a look that definitely said I-told-you-so. 

She sat down next to her boyfriend with a huff and instead of the sarcastic comment she expected to come from him, he took her hand in his. The two of them said nothing as their eyes concentrated on the way he traced her small and nimble fingers with his larger ones. 

“You ready to tell me what’s wrong?” Fred asked eventually. 

At Y/N’s hesitation, he squeezed her hand gently. She gave in with a sigh, “I’m just nervous about meeting your family. I know you’ve talked to them about me, but they don’t exactly know I’m a Malfoy.” 

Before Fred could even open his mouth to reply, she cut him off, “And I know, I know. Your family is wonderful and the complete opposite of mine. I’m just so used to bad first introductions–”

“Y/N, I love you, but stop talking.” 

Y/N let out a nervous laugh at what Fred said, despite how unnerved she felt at the sensation of the bubbles of anxiety in her chest. Still, she couldn’t help but feel the tips of her cheeks and the back of her neck heat up as well. One would think after months of dating the cheeky redhead she would be used to his ways, but hearing him say ‘I love you’ always made her heart flutter. 

Fred shifted, his body turning to face her fully, “Love, my mom would adore you even if you were a hippogriff with anger issues. The fact that you make me happy and that you love me is more than enough for her. You are more than enough.”

Then, he wrapped her up in his arms, her cheek resting against his chest. She could hear the rhythmic beat of his heart, and in the calming presence of her boyfriend, Y/N was able to settle some of her nerves. She could do this. 

“I love you so much, Freddie.” 

“I love you more.” 

–

“Mum, this is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N Malfoy.” 

Y/N knew that to have raised seven children and look great doing it, Molly Weasley had to have been some sort of super hero. What she didn’t know, and what she wasn’t prepared for, was how tightly the Weasley matriarch hugged and how gently she dragged her hand up and down backs as she was doing so. 

It nearly made Y/N cry. 

“Oh I am so happy to meet you dear,” gushed Molly once she eased away from the hug. 

“Me too, Mrs. Weasley,” Y/N smiled, “Fred’s been keeping me from you and your wonderful cooking for much too long.” 

“Please dear, call me Molly.” 

Before she could respond, Y/N was ushered into the kitchen where all of the food was waiting for her under a few well placed preservation charms. Y/N turned to look back at where Fred was standing, and he had a smug smile on his face. 

“Told you so,” he mouthed at her. 

–

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[theladyismyshepard]

37 kill for Daniela the red head, She kills one of the servents because of jealousy but the maiden is into it?? Maybe kinda nsfw

Sorry for the wait, my friend

I Always Feel Like Somebody’s Watching Me (NSFW)

TW: Violence

The sun was beating down on your back as you tended to the garden that you grew in the back courtyard. You had appealed to the Dimitrescus the benefits of planting your own vegetables and fruits and possibly the occasional pretty flower here or there. The Lady seemed uninterested in the thought altogether, making it clear that her mind was reserved for more stimulating subjects. Bela seemed halfhearted with her thoughtfulness, quickly zoning out. Cassandra had rolled her eyes and walked away after the word “garden”. Daniela was smiling though, her eyes glittery before she nodded along almost vehemently.

“I agree,” she said unabashed, ignoring her mother’s arched brow and Bela’s scoff. “Think of the ingredients we could grow ourselves instead of sending for delivery every other week.”

“Daniela, dear,” started Alcina, sighing almost exasperatedly, “Do you plan on going out and tending to this “garden”, hmm?”

You wanted to interject, it was the perfect moment to take responsibility for the care of the garden, and possibly even the grounds just to improve your worth around the castle. Yet, it required a lack in manners to interrupt a Lady when she’s speaking, and Alcina had a severe standard when it came to manners. And so you were forced to go with the smart move and bite your tongue as Daniela’s face dropped. That didn’t stop you from attempting to gain eye contact to give her a beseeching look.

“I’m sure we can find someone.” insisted Daniela, her eyes cutting to you before snapping back to her mother. “Someone very dependable,”

“I can do it,” you piped up, taking the opportunity, eyes dropping to the floor once Alcina’s gaze fell onto you.

“The question is will you,” drawled Alcina, eyes narrow as they looked you up and down. “As in, will I allow a human thing as yourself to control anything that is mine?”

You would have fell to your knees beneath the weight of the Lady’s attention had it not been for a certain redhead to stepped closer to you. You wanted to grab her hand, pull her close, wrap yourself around her for comfort, but you don’t. You never act on it, and she never dragged you to her bedroom cackling and giggling wildly as she did with other maids when she needed to get off. Though you were also the only one who didn’t emerge scarred and torn up.

“Of course, my Lady,” you conceded, bowing your head to show a sign of submission.

“Mother,” said Bela quietly, calmly interjecting, and waited until Alcina turned to address her. “I also think that a garden would be beneficial.”

Daniela had clapped happily when she realized her sister was aiding her in swaying their mother. Your eyes couldn’t settle between the three of the Dimitrescus. Alcina cocked her head to the side, adopting a fake look of thoughtfulness to cover how unimpressed she was.

“Oh, you do, darling?”

“Yes,” pressed Bela before her mother could continue on. “Imagine the access to ingredients for remedies to give the livestock. We could even grow foreign plants required for different potions!”

Fuck the fruits and vegetables, I guess.

And that was how the Lady was worn down and forced to give into her daughters desires. The garden didn’t necessarily consist of the produces that you originally planned for, but it got you out of the castle for extended points of time, and you weren’t complaining one bit. Castle Dimitrescu was a rather large estate, so there was plenty of room for the several varieties of roots, plants, and flowers that the Dimitrescus requested you take care of.

The heat of the sun had you pulling at the hem of your shirt to bring it up and wipe the sweat from your brow. The warm breeze hit you squarely on your exposed midsection, and you felt the dripping sweat drying grossly against your flesh. It felt as though eyes were upon you and when you let go of your shirt, ready to turn to check the windows of the castle, a person standing next to you nearly had you jumping out of your skin.

“Oh!” gasped the woman — a maid, “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s alright,” you assured, breathless and attempting to return your heart rate back to normal. “What’re you doing out here?”

Being outside was a luxury that none of the other maids could afford, so you were confused as to how this maid, Elle, had managed to avoid the lingering eyes that were everywhere. Her eyes averted as a slight blush came to her cheeks, and that’s when you saw the glass of water in her hand and your brain put two and two together. Oh.

“It’s hot today,” said Elle nonchalantly, even shrugging. “I figured you might need this.”

“Thank you,” you replied earnestly, grabbing the glass and taking greedy sips before you handed it back. “I appreciate it.”

“Well, I can’t have you fainting and bringing attention to yourself, now can I?” joked Elle, smiling bashfully.

You could’ve sworn that eyes were upon you, and you even went as far as to turn and check the windows, and while you thought you saw one of the curtains shifting, it also could’ve been a trick on your eyes. You furrowed your brow but turned back to Elle, who was looking at you expectantly, and for what, you weren’t sure. You smiled warmly.

“Thank you again, Elle, but I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have.” You warned, making a face to emphasize, and she nodded in disappointment but reached forward to squeeze your hand.

“Stay safe,” she said, the maids’ usual words of departure.

“Stay safe,”

Eyes were watching you, but you couldn’t see from where, and that was the most dangerous predator: the one who hides before striking, and there was one predator who always had her watchful eye on you. Daniela. You gulped at the thought of Daniela catching another maid outside just to talk to you... no one, not even you were allowed to bend any of the rules, not even once... not when you were so easily replaced. Hopefully if you just went back to attending to the garden (rather stiffly), you could pretend that nothing would be amiss when you went back inside.

***

There was tension hanging in the air, thick enough to choke, and it had your spine as straight as a rod as you trudged through the pristine castle with your overall dirtiness, your shoes abandoned at the door. It was oddly quiet, and when the maids spotted you, they turned away quick, eyes wide with fright. Every step you took towards any of them, the maids took about six or seven steps away from you. Castle Dimitrescu might’ve been weird, but that was a new one...

You gave up on making conversation and instead wandered off to find a clean uniform to change out of the more comfortable wear you wore to tend to the ingredients. There was the nagging feeling that something was off in the air... Where were the Lady’s daughters? Their signature cackles failed to echo off the walls, and it left an uneasy silence in its wake. Now that you thought about it, you weren’t running into Elle either as you wandered deeper into the castle and found the maids’ quarters.

You quickly changed and made yourself presentable for your next task, and then you were again walking through the silent halls as you made your way to the kitchen. There was no real warmth to the kitchen, not when the stove had gone untouched for as long as you had been there. It wasn’t your place to question things around there, but you couldn’t help but to ask questions when you stepped inside and there was a silver platter with the cover still hiding what was underneath. What had you puzzled was the note that simply read your name propped right up against the cover.

You craned your neck when you felt eyes upon you yet again, but nobody was there... you knew better though and that’s what had needles prickling your skin and a cold sweat to break out. All that was missing was the giggling, but this really seemed like one of Daniela’s games she enjoyed playing. You turned back to the platter, and reached for the handle of the lid. After a shaky moment of building yourself up, you ripped the cover off like a bandaid, and froze, arm still raised.

Placed neatly upon the silver platter was Elle’s severed head. Her eyes were closed, and for that, you were grateful... you were too ashamed to look her in the eye seeing as this was all your fault. As your breathing hollowed out, that was when you finally heard a deep chuckle, one that had you going rigid... this wasn’t the Daniela that you had gotten used to, but it was one you were aware she could possess. Was she directing it towards you? You dropped the lid with a clatter.

“I didn’t like her very much.” said Daniela simply, and you gulped. “She liked you too much.”

You couldn’t miss the edge in her voice on the word. You finally blinked (your eyes suddenly burned) and looked away from the platter to connect eyes with the redhead. She wasn’t smiling and that was never a good sign. You forced a smile, one that you were scared was too obviously false.

“I didn’t like her either.” You choked out, fully turning your body away.

“You didn’t?” asked Daniela, her voice suddenly small and seeking reassurance, and you were struggling to keep up with her complete 180.

“Daniela...” You couldn’t say what you really wanted to... She was just bringing me water! “Why does it really matter to you so much?”

“Because you are mine!” She snapped, and you frowned.

“Doesn’t every maid here belong to you?” You countered, though you had to admit, you have more leeway than others did.

“They belong to the family, but you, you are mine, darling.” purred Daniela, stalking forward very slowly until she was before you. “No one else can even look at you the way I do.”

“But the other maids that you’ve...” You cringed, unwilling to finish, but Daniela picked up on what you were trying to say.

“I feed from them and that is all... Getting them a little scared makes the blood just a bit sweeter.” chuckled Daniela, and you frowned yet again.

“I thought you-”

“Slept with them?” Daniela drawled, now it was her turn to frown at you. “As tempting as it was, I think there’s one delicacy that I’m saving my pallet for.”

Her eyes roamed over your body with no holds barred, and you weren’t sure how you felt about the shiver that tingled down your spine. The fact that there was a severed head behind you was kinda throwing you for a loop. Daniela had her index finger and her middle finger tiptoeing up your arm until she was gingerly holding the side of your neck with obvious care. You gazed into her eyes and you were thoroughly entranced by the red headed beauty that would kill for you.

“Do you love me?” You whispered, almost afraid that what you were asking was a stupid question. Daniela’s face softened.

“I absolutely adore you, my love,” cooed Daniela, pulling you into a searing kiss that had your heart stuttering in your chest, and when the need for air had you pulling back, she already had her eyes open and watching you. “No one can take you away from me.”

Any sane person would hear the threat for what it really was, but there was nothing sane about the feelings she evoked from you just by being near you, even with Elle’s head served up right beside you. There was something about her possessiveness that could make you either feel very secured, or somewhat aroused, and you could hardly think of anything else but the fingers scratching at the hair at the base of your neck.

“I doubt anyone would be capable of taking me away from you.” You mused, and it was true. Bless the soul who tried to free you from the clutches of Daniela.

“Hm,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as her eyes cut over every inch of your face. “Perhaps I should leave my mark for all to see?”

What surprised you the most was it seemed as though she was genuinely asking you. Her hand was still scratching the back of your neck, and her free hand reached up to rub soothing circles along your jugular with the pad of her thumb. Daniela’s compulsive attitude can lead her to doing whatever the hell she wanted without fear, but here she was, asking for your permission to drink from you. This redhead never failed to be full of surprises, and you found that you kinda liked that Daniela was so crazy for you.

“I belong to you,” You said quietly, unwilling to break the atmosphere that was enveloping the two of you, and you knew you said the right thing when her eyes shone with nothing but adoration and if you looked closer, love.

Daniela continued to cup the back of your neck with one hand, and used the other to hold you carefully by your shoulder, and she gently guided you to expose your throat just a bit more before she slowly bit into your throat. You gasped at the initial sting of your flesh giving way beneath the power of her teeth, but you allowed her to continue what she needed to do and permitted the subtle pull at your bloodstream. You felt the vibration of her own moan against your skin and it had you lightheaded.

“Daniela,” you groaned, feeling her teeth still inside of your skin with every syllable, and it also felt good when the hand on your shoulder rubbed down your arm and up your back.

“Does that feel good, darling?” pressed Daniela, unlatching just long enough to pull back and bat her eyelashes at you. “Do you love this as much as I do?”

Her tongue flattened against your bite mark, cleaning you of any trickling blood before she moved to the opposite side. She placed an open mouthed kiss there before she latched on once more, prompting your whole body to flinch within her grasp, but trust Daniela to hold on tight. It felt as though there would be a couple bruises by the time the next morning rolled around, but something told you that was a good thing to have within Castle Dimitrescu. It was like your own charm to ward off the evil that could lurk around the many hidden corridors.

You felt her pushing you back up against the table, and your foot brushed against the lid, causing it to scratch against the floor with an unflattering sound. The small of your back connected with the table, leaving you no more room to go backwards. Your hands flew to the edge as you used the table as support as Daniela basically leaned her full weight into you as she fed and marked you.

Your eyes flew open when she abruptly pulled away, her chin smeared with your blood and her eyes crazed with desire, but also soft with emotion and it was directed right at you. She never broke eye contact as she slowly dropped to her knees before you, and your breathing became irregular as she reached forward to push the end of your uniform up higher and higher until you had to shiver at how exposed you felt.

“Do you love me?” asked Daniela suddenly, bringing your wandering mind to a complete halt, and you looked down into her wide, almost innocent eyes as she stared earnestly up at you. “I never heard you say it to me.”

“I love you more than life itself,” You responded and you were surprised at just how honest it felt... You could die tomorrow and you’d have felt content enough to just allow it.

Daniela’s megawatt grin was so wide that you knew there was no way of it coming off anytime soon, not with the pure happiness radiating from it, and certainly not with the way it reached itself to her eyes. She giggled madly and soon it was the only indication of her because she disappeared beneath the skirt of your uniform and you jumped at the warm tongue that was persistent in searching your body. Your knuckles turned white as your grip on the table tightened and you lost yourself to the wetness of Daniela’s tongue on you, and you found that it was true...

No one could ever steal you away from the perfection that was Daniela. Not when she was the only one that could turn you on with a familiar severed head just inches away..

[songbirdsingingthings]

Polka-dotted Bandages

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Mentions of injury, the tiniest bit of angst, and fluff galore <3

Requested by @luluwiie​ :

"There is no limit in the number of requests", you said? Welllll... then can I request ? 😳❤ if the answer is yes: can I request a slow burn / pining Todoroki x Reader Oneshot ? 😶👉👈 Like, when they train together, Reader got into the habit of always taking care of his scratches and wounds, which at first confused Todoroki, cause Recovery girl is there for this, right ? But with time he got used and even grew attached to this little habit of ours. And one day, for some reason, Reader ends up badly injured (in a fight, against vilains? Idk), and he rushes to the hospital and is like sooo worried.. and when Reader wakes up they find like some band-aids on their little scratches, just like the ones they often use for him ? And we get to see their reunion Ajajdusdj TYSM if you do it 😳❤

A/N: I LITERALLY FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS REQUEST.... which is why I had to rewrite it like twenty times before I was finally satisfied with how it turned out lol. I really hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the request! <3

Word Count: 2.2K

Ever since the age of five when his quirk made itself known to him, the world, and most unfortunately his father, little nicks and cuts were always a common thing to find all over his body. To this day, however careful Shouto was in training, they were ordinary occurrences. It wasn’t like he was careless, far from it in fact, he just got a little… distracted sometimes. How could he not when you were training right across from him? Your skill and poise were originally the traits that drew him in to hoping for a friendship with you. Those paired with your optimistic personality and effortless smile captured his attention completely. So, when he accidentally grazed his leg against a piece of metal that was jutting out haphazardly, he was unprepared for your attention to be on him.

“Shouto, are you okay? That looks like it really hurts,” you huff, out of breath from the last set of crunches you had just completed. The red-and-white haired boy looked in between you and his now bleeding cut with a somewhat blank stare.

“Oh… yes I think I’m fine,” He answered awkwardly, assessing the wound and slowly moving his hand to cover it. That is, until your hand caught his wrist.

“Wait, your hands aren’t clean!” You exclaim as you dig through your bag with the hand that wasn’t currently occupied. “Here, I have some disinfectant in my bag.” Shouto watches as you pull the little bottle of antiseptic out of your bag as well as some cotton balls and a little box of bandages. You douse one of the cotton balls with some disinfectant, accidentally spilling a little on your hands in the process, and hold it right in front of his cut. “Do you mind?” You ask, making sure Shouto was okay with your movements.

“No, go ahead,” He manages, keeping his composure but feeling his heart skip a bit. You flash him a grin before placing one of your hands on his leg to steady yourself.

“This might sting a bit, but it goes away pretty quickly,” you explain, slowly pressing the cotton ball to his wound. You made sure to clean the dirt and grime away quickly, your gentle and dexterous fingers going around the edges of the cut.

“Y/N?” Shouto’s voice was somewhat jarring in the comfortable silence you two had, causing your gaze to snap up to his.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” You asked hurriedly, your eyes filled with concern. He shook his head, allowing you a breath of relief before turning your attention back on his wound.

“I’m just curious as to why you are doing this, since we have Recovery Girl on call all day. I’m sure it would be no issue for her,” He asked as you disposed of the now slightly bloody cotton ball and digged around in the box to pull out a blue and white polka-dotted bandage.

“Well I didn’t want you to accidentally infect it,” you begin, smoothing the bandage across the cut, “plus, it's nice to do things like this for a friend, don’t you think?” You smile, satisfied that the coverage of the polka dots fit perfectly over the damaged skin. Your eyes finally go back up to Shouto, whose hand was held out to you. You take it as he helps you stand from your crouched position on the floor. Shouto smiled at the little notion and fell into a comfortable pace with you as the both of you walked back towards the direction of the dorms. Over time, Shouto began to like the little habit the two of you developed - he liked it quite a lot. Not ever had he been touched in such a caring and tender manner, and when it was coming from you… it was pure solace that he felt. And, gradually, as the two of you fell into a comfortable friendship - with more than a few lingering glances on his part - he felt that finally he was at a time in his life where he found someone that could understand him completely. 

Buildings were leveled, the streets had craters in them, and your breathing was uneven. Of course, when Class 1A was on a day trip into the city, villains had decided to take action. The day was going too perfectly, you guessed. It really only was once in a while that the teachers would let you have a long day off to go shopping or enjoy the city life. Due to this incident, though, you’re pretty sure that they’ll be revoking those privileges as soon as the class steps their feet back on UA property. If you were lucky, maybe you wouldn’t be confined in the big dorm building for a week due to safety concerns.

“H/N, you take the guy on the left, I’ll take the annoying one in the middle!” You heard your classmate, Mina, shout to you. The pink-haired girl was currently fighting off a criminal with a nasty quirk - blood manipulation, as long as they were in some physical pain themself. That was probably why the guy was intentionally biting down on his tongue.

“You’ve got it!” You yell back, launching yourself into the fray and readying your quirk to attack. With the villain set straight on in front of you, you let your eyes zero in on them, everything besides them becoming a blur. That was why, when the enemy that was fighting Mina set their sights on you, you were unable to react quick enough.

Shouto was, more or less, beginning to panic. Everyone was accounted for… everyone except for you. That’s when he caught sight of a familiar pink-haired girl crouching down with tears leaking from her eyes.

“Ashido, have you seen Y/N?” He asked exasperatedly, beginning to grow frustrated with the lack of information involving the Y/H/C haired girl. This only caused Mina to sob more, her pitiful gaze finally looking up into Shouto’s.

“Th-they hit me with their quirk and it made the wind get knocked out of me,” she hiccuped, wiping underneath her eyes to try and rid the moisture from her cheeks. “They hurt Y/N really, really badly.” As soon as those words left her lips, Shouto felt his entire body grow cold. It wasn’t like the cold he used to regulate his body temperature when he used too much of his left side. This was a chill that encompassed his body as a whole, making him feel hollow. As Mina’s words grew more jumbled, Shouto felt his breathing go shallow and his hands beginning to tremble.

“Where,” He asked forcefully.

“Musutafu General Hospital.” 

And with those three words, Shouto began running, and didn’t stop until he was at the massive glass doors of the lobby. He walked swiftly to the help desk and slammed his hands on the top of it, a little harder than he intended.

“Y/N L/N, she’s a member of Class 1A at UA, and she was taken to this hospital due to events that occurred downtown. Where is she.” The receptionist looked up to find an angered Shoto, his eyes blazing and narrowed.

“I-I’m sorry?” They asked, a little terrified of him.

“Y/N L/N, she is a patient here. WHERE IS SHE?” He demanded. The receptionist jumped in their seat and began to vigorously click on their computer, searching through patient charts.

“She’s, uh, on floor four, just got out of emergency surgery and is recovering. Room 107.” He didn’t stay to hear anything else they had to say as he sprinted to the staircase, ascending the stairs in record speed. When he arrived on the correct floor, a sudden feeling of misery descended upon him. Sitting in a little seating area, he saw as surgeons - still clad in their scrubs - were hugging a family of four, all of them sobbing in despair. This stirred him to now stumble down the hallways wildly, frantically checking the room numbers on both sides until he found the three numbers he was looking for. 107. Slowly, he pushed the door open to find you laying down on a hospital bed. 

When your eyes finally fluttered open, the first thing you felt was the whole body ache that held onto your body like a vice. I’m never complaining about stomach or calf cramps again, you think, squinting to try and see anything in the harsh hospital room lighting. You groaned as you sat up, feeling the pang of pain in the small of your back. You smiled, though, when you saw all the things dotted all over your room. Vases of flowers were placed on the tables, from your vantage point you could spot the familiar petals of peonies - the flowers that symbolize life and good health. On the table next to you, lots of cards were propped up. Some had cheesy “get well soon!” messages scrawled across the front, others a bit more demure. And, as you reached to grab and read one, that’s when you saw them. The familiar pattern of blue and white polka dots left you breathless as you stopped your previous movements and began to inspect them further. These were exactly like the ones that were always in your bag, the ones that are so specifically designed that only one store sells them. You were sure that the hospital you were staying in didn’t make an effort to buy pretty looking bandages for their patients and nobody else knew where to find them in your bag. Nobody else except...

“Shouto…” you breathed, your eyes welling with tears.

“Y/N?” Standing in the door frame stood the exact boy whose name was just uttered from your lips. Dressed in a soft, black turtleneck - the one you always found so flattering on him - and a pair of beige pants. In his hand held the most beautiful red carnations you had ever seen, the petals so dainty and the stems so thin you feared they would break if he even moved them. 

“Here, put them in this vase next to-” your speech was interrupted as Shouto let the bouquet fall to the tiled floor, his body moving on autopilot to encase you in his arms, his head wedging itself between your neck and head.

“You’re okay.” He mumbles.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re safe.”

“I’m safe.” Shouto lingers there for a moment before pulling himself back into a standing position, helping you reposition your body on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. The two of you stay in silence for a moment before you speak up.

“Thank you for patching me up,” you say simply, your voice soft as you tilt your head towards the polka-dotted bandages. You see Shouto’s lips quirk up a bit.

“You’re always taking care of me, so I wanted to take care of you. Even if the hospital staff had to do the heavy lifting.” He says, sitting down in the chair next to your bed, pulling it closer so that the two of you were as close as possible. Your hand immediately finds his, grabbing hold of it. 

“Shouto, I-”

“Y/N, when I’m around you, I feel the skin on my face grow hot.” His statement caught you off guard. “My stomach turns, too, when you smile at me and look at me in the eye.” You suck in a breath, hoping that what he was trying to say was the same thing you had been feeling for ages. Shouto takes a deep breath before squeezing your hand. “At first I thought I was sick and caught something, due to the increase in temperature, but I realized that I only began to feel this way when you first put a blue polka-dotted bandage on my leg. And then that feeling only came around when you were near.” Finally looking up to meet your eyes, Shouto gazes at you with such care and affection you felt that you could melt. “I think… I think I love you.” Your shocked face soon softens into one of adoration and a grin spreads across your cheeks.

“I love you too.” You see Shouto breathe in relief before taking the hand he was holding and pressing a soft kiss to the back of yours. Your heart flutters at his gesture, encouraging you all the more to pull him towards you so that he could lay on the bed. Quickly, the both of you found comfort as he held you, letting his fingers trace lightly around the polka-dotted bandages. “Will you let me keep on taking care of you? Whenever you get scrapes or bruises… or if something makes you happy or sad or feel anything at all?” You murmured, letting your head fall against his chest. You feel him nodding his head.

“Only if I can take care of you, too.” You smiled, glancing back at the blue and white polka dots to see Shouto’s thumb brushing against it.

“Okay, deal.”

[bailey-reaper]

Can we have something where Barok has a child walk up to him and asks if he can help him find his mother? The child isn't scared of Barok because of the Reaper stories, just a little nervous because they're lost and "stranger danger" y'know. But they can tell that Barok is a good man, despite his serious looks, and they really need help.

Sometimes Death is Gentle.

Notes: Hiya, anon! Hope you enjoy your request!

Content Warnings: lost child; distress; angst

"Mama...? ... Mama! .... MAMA!!!"

No matter how they called, their mother did not emerge from the throngs of people at Covent Garden Market that day. The din of people chattering and bartering was heavy and their little voice barely seemed to register above it. They looked to and fro, at the face of every lady, but none of them had the face they hoped to see.

A cold, fearful feeling started to curl its claws around their stomach; tears welled up in their eyes and they began to sob. Where was their mama? Had she left without them? How would they get home? What if they never saw her again?

So many of the adults looked busy, and scary, they didn't feel that it would be okay to disturb them (or safe to do so). Only one person among the crowds seemed unoccupied: he was tall and dressed in a long black cloak; the young child was pretty sure they'd seen him in the paper one time, some article about 'The Reaper of the Old Bailey'.

They recalled their mother once saying that the 'Grim Reaper' was just another term for the 'Angel of Death' –– Angels were supposed to be good, right? Perhaps the big, sad-looking angel could help... they walked over and tugged on his cloak, "... Um... excuse me, mister..."

Barok glanced down, his expression nowhere near as severe as it would be had a tedious nobleman or dullard counsel bothered him, "... What is it, child?"

"... My... my mama is missing..." the child said, fresh tears beading in bloodshot eyes, "I cannot find her... please can you help me look for her?"

"...." the Reaper knelt down to get a better look at the youth, clearly they were in a state of desperate distress. He couldn't just leave them like this, not when this area was known for the unsavoury sorts who would abduct a child and put them into slavery, "Mmm, where did you last see your mother?"

The child pointed to a flower stall, "She was looking at the flowers, I got a little bored so I went to look in a shop window but when I looked up she had gone..."

"I see," Barok picked the child up and sat them on his forearm so that they had a better view of the throngs of tradespeople and customers, "And what was she wearing? Can you remember anything distinctive that she likes to put on? A bonnet perhaps or the colour of her dress?"

"Um..." the child looked thoughtful, trying to decide what might help to identify her, "Oh! She was wearing peonies in her hair today, because papa bought her some yesterday..."

Barok nodded, "Alright..." he took brisk steps into the crowd, which parted upon realising the Reaper was within their midst; the sight of him was enough to stun them to silence but to see him carrying a child in tow was utterly dumbfounding. He cast his gaze over the people, carefully sifting for the child's parent.

Suddenly, the young one gasped, "There! Oh there she is!" they pointed at a woman who was frantically looking around, clearly in distress, "MAMA!!!!" they waved, before leaping off the Reaper's arm and dashing over to her.

"Oh!!" their mother knelt down and gathered them up in her arms, "My darling one, there you are! I've been so worried!"

"Sorry mama," they whimpered, cuddling her tightly.

"Don't ever wander off again, do you hear me?" they nodded, before turning back toward the Reaper, "Thank you for helping me find my mama, mister!"

Barok simply offered a nod, while the mother looked at him in stunned awe –– had the Reaper of the Bailey truly aided her child? What a shocking, yet heartwarming, notion!

[duckymcdoorknob]

I hate to bring this on people but could I ask for an emergency request-

Cause of my parents being divorced my mother has been just- yelling at me, and only me, 24/7 and she knows it spikes my anxiety and- I was wondering if you could write some emergency comfort. I would rlly like suga since he’s a big comfort for me but of course you can add other comfort characters,

Ask and you shall receive bb!!

Please spam my messages anytime you need help, okay?

CW UNDER THE CUT: Divorcing parents, reader is sad.

𝐾𝑜𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑖 𝑆𝑢𝑔𝑎𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑎

I personally think that Suga has a rotten home life.

He’s just a bubbly lil guy so he’s bound to be hiding something.

That being said, I think Koushi picked up on the signs immediately.

The way that you would try to stay at school as long as possible, your face falling whenever Daichi announced practice was over.

How You’d stay after to watch practice, assist Yachi in Kiyoko’s absence, bake treats in the home ec. room, help the sewing club fix buttons and loose stitches, even help a teacher you absolutely loathe clean out their classroom.

Anytime someone needed you, you were there.

It seemed like you were their yes person…

It tore Suga up to see all of the fawning you did.

He figured it must be so tiring for you, because it’s sure as shit awful for him.

He first kept an eye on you after he saw you actually cry when Daichi ended practice.

When Suga tried to rush to your aid, you shakily picked up a phone call and went outside.

As you walked out, he heard absolute screaming on the other end, unable to make out a single thing that the voice was saying.

From that point on, Koushi kept a tab that maybe your home life was as rocky as his.

His suspicions were solidified when Hinata casually asked about whether or not your mom and dad would be coming to watch their match vs Shiratorizawa.

He noticed the next response in you: freezing.

You absolutely stood cemented to the floor, a lump in your throat forming as you bit back the sting in your eyes.

“Shit… they’ve gotta get out of there.” He thought out loud.

Tanaka, who was helping him clean up from practice, looked up and realized the situation.

“Oye! (Y/N)! Suga and I need you to see which one of us is taller!”

The setter’s eyebrows fell into a sympathetic look as he nodded toward his friend. “I’m totally taller, Tanaka!”

“No I am!”

You shook your head and blinked your eyes as you re-grounded yourself.

“I-oh! Coming!”

As you bounded over to him with Yachi’s tape measure, he grabbed both of your hands very gently.

“Hey. Act natural.” He whispered.

As you furrowed your brows, he took you by the hand.

“Come on, (N/N)! We have to go prove Tanaka wrong.” He led the three of you outside of the gym.

“Suga what’s going on here?” You asked as you removed your hands from his.

Koushi sighed repeatedly, trying to bite back threatening tears in his eyes.

“Kou-“

“Look this isn’t easy for me to do because I get it. I go through the same thing. But, (Y/N) if you need help, you have to tell me.”

“I’m gonna take this as my cue to leave.” Tanaka said sheepishly, turning to leave.

“I’m totally taller guys!” He chimed as he went inside the gym, “(Y/N)’s gonna see if they’re taller than him now.”

You both chuckled slightly, turning back to meet each other’s teary eyes.

“I understand all of it. When my mom finally left, I didn’t know how to go on. I mean it took me a month to finally tell Daichi and Asahi, and when I did I just couldn’t stop crying enough to actually get my words out.”

“Koushi-“

“Please just,” he sighs shakily, “(Y/N) you’re my best friend and I love you so much. I just wish you would’ve told me before.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as tears began to well in your eyes, “I know, I know, I just couldn’t. I was worried that she’d find out and freak out on me for telling someone and-“

“Hey.”

He grips both of your shoulders, a teary smile painting his features.

“You and me are gonna be alright. We’ve got each other, you’ve got me and it’s going to get easier now that I know.”

Suga pulls you into a tight hug and lets you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“As for your mom, if she keeps bitching at you, I will fight her myself. Do you understand? I will not hesitate to K.O her ass.”

“Koushi.” You chuckle and sniffle, “Don’t adopt Tanaka’s foul mouth.”

As a chuckle resonated in Suga’s chest, you finally felt secure near the beating of his heart and the warmth of his embrace.

And now?

Going home doesn’t seem as awful as it used to be.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————