#but I think she passed by it one day while visiting Silence and said

[chryza]

Ifrit shows up after LT wearing a gimmick t-shirt ‘liberated’ from the Rhine gift shop that says “Tested and Certified by Rhine Labs, LLC” and Silence about passes out

[seetangus]

Oh how about: Reader loving Azula throughout her mental health crisis and still visiting her in the asylum. So, as she heals, she realizes how much she loves the Reader… and maybe through the story, you could see her reactions to certain things like if R talked about another girl like Ty Lee or something, Azula would feel jelly but doesn’t understand why or if R talks about Zuko she may think she’d like Zuko more like their mother…

idk but it’s sounds fun and I know you are awesome at writing so I bet it’ll be good!

Healing - Azula x reader

[Masterlist]

Azula x gn reader, no warnings

1.897 words, I hope you like it! :)

The metal door closed audibly, its movement making the torches close to it flicker. They barely spent enough light to make things visible in the cell. Now you two were alone.

Azula sat in front of you, tied to a metal chair in a straitjacket. It was a humiliating treatment for a princess, you thought. Still, your heart felt great relief from seeing her again after several months of waiting. It had been difficult to convince the new fire lord Zuko and his comrades to let you visit Azula, as you were considered dangerous due to your loyalty to princess Azula that you had maintained even during the last days of the war. But here you were, finally seeing her, the one your heart ached for, again.

“Hello Azula. I am happy to see you again.”, you said truthfully but very quietly. You did not dare asking her how she felt. Seeing Azula, who had always been so confident and strong in a weak and broken state like this intimidated you.

You could not make out what Azula was thinking. You had been told that she had for some time behaved like a raving maniac, screaming and trying to attack anyone who came close to her. But that phase seemed to be over now. It was obvious Azula was mentally still in a very precarious situation, but right now she was rather calm. At least it seemed like she was.

“What are you doing here, y/n.”, she asked. Your heart jumped at hearing her voice, even if it sounded differently than before. What she said did not sound like a question, but you still answered: “I wanted to see you.” Quieter, you added: “Maybe you need someone to talk to.”

A small silence followed. You could tell that Azula was, even if it had been months, still very stressed and angry about her defeat against Zuko. Still, with a heartwarming effort, Azula tried to initiate a peaceful conversation by asking you about the current situation of the fire nation and other wide-ranging topics. You happily answered all her questions. The conversation got more concrete when she asked about her old friends. Ty Lee, Mai, Iroh and even her brother Zuko. All the ones that had betrayed her. You told about their new positions and how they behaved. You also told her that, as you had remained in your position in the royal palace even after the changing of the fire lord, you were somehow reconnecting with some of them, even if it went slowly.

While listening to you, Azula increasingly looked lost. You would have expected her to be angry at the traitors taking her place in the hierarchy of the fire nation, but she seemed to worry about something entirely different. Nevertheless you talked with eachother until the visiting time was over and the guards ordered you to leave. You also realised your eyes hurt because of the dim light in the cell - it must be painful for Azula to stay here all day.

Having left her cell, a guard told you that they had feared for the worst and were surprised at how calm Azula had been with you. You couldn’t imagine why that was either.

< • ◇ • >

A few weeks passed until your next visit. In that time Azula had changed much; you were told she was still a bit unpredictable, but her violent outbursts had ended completely and she was overall more stable. That had led to the guards daring to attach extra torches to the walls of her cell, finally making the room brighter so your eyes didn’t hurt anymore. The whole atmosphere was different this visit, it was less depressing.

This time you greeted her a bit more confidently and with a smile. It would have been hard not to smile when seeing your loved one feel better. She also looked better than last time - her hair looked less messy and she did not have bags under her eyes. You were genuinely happy it went uphill with her, and you didn’t hide it:

“Hello Azula, you look beautiful today!”

Your warm greeting seemed to have catched Azula off guard; you could see she hesitated a bit before answering, and you even saw her blush a bit, but surely it was only the warm light of the torches combined with your own feelings that made you imagine it. Azula wouldn’t blush. Once Azula answered though, she did so with her old attitude: “Of course I look good, y/n. Did you expect me not to?”

That might not have been the most welcoming and thankful answer she could have given, but at least it proved she really felt better, more like back when she wasn’t here. Ah, you couldn’t wait for when she would boss you around and insult anyone else again like in the good ol’ days.

But enough of the dreaming, back to reality! Azula simply made you tell her anything that you thought might interest her. She said she TRUSTED you on choosing the right topics. That was obviously a very unusual thing for her to say but you took it as a compliment and started speaking, mostly about how things changed under the rule of her brother and how the people she knew behaved. Every time you spoke about Ty Lee or Mai you could see her eyebrows furrow and she did not comment again until you changed topics. When you mentioned that Mai and Zuko were a couple, her whole face lit up and she interrupted you, exclaiming: “Ha! That’s fantastic! Isn’t it great, y/n?” You agreed but Azula suddenly feeling happy for her brother genuinely confused you.

Anyhow, Azula soon seemed to become annoyed by the things you told her about the people she knew. After some time she simply cut you off and said: “Yes yes uncle Iroh’s new tea shop is interesting and I should care but I want you to tell me more about yourself.” At first, you were dumbfounded, but since she seemed to really be interested (and also since it was impossible not to fulfill any request of hers anyways), you talked about yourself for the rest of your visit.

Some time later, the guards opened the door and told you to leave. You had already said good-bye to Azula and turned to go away, but she suddenly made a harsh move with her head, loosening a few strands of her hair that now dangled down. “Oh y/n, before you leave, would you be so kind and fix this?”, she purred with unusual kindness, inevitably making you feel butterflies.

Hesitantly, you turned around and lifted your hand to her beautiful hair, gently brushing it back into place. She just smirked triumphantly and let you leave. You couldn’t put into words how heavenly you had felt that moment, despite the stares of the guards.

After you were gone, Azula thought about what had happened. Why had she done this. Making her hair messy on purpose to ask you to fix it. Not that it hadn’t felt good, feeling human touch after months of deprivation had actually felt awesome, she just genuinely did not know why she had suddenly felt the need to get your attention. And why did she feel so hurt when you talked about Ty Lee or Mai? She did not like not knowing the answer to something, so she was determined to get it the next time you visited.

< • ◇ • >

You did not let Azula wait for long. As quickly as the harsh regulations of the Asylum allowed, you returned. According to the guards, who prepared you for the visit, Azula had been behaving much better: there had been no angry outbursts or attempts to harm anyone at all since your last visit.

Luckily for Azula, her good behaviour had led to an even greater improvement in the furnishing of her cell: the torches had been replaced with lanterns who emitted a brightness that somewhat resembled daylight, making it much more bearable to stay in her cell.

“How do you feel, Azula?”

“I’m well, y/n. Actually, it is very relieving that you are here now, because I can finally ask you some very important questions.”

Naturally, Azula saying your name made you feel butterflies. She sounded almost like her old self again. “I’m happy to answer anything you ask me.”, you assured, excited about what questions she could have for you. You looked at her expectantly.

She also only looked at you instead of asking questions. Well, she did not just ‘look’, she seemed to have… found something on you that interested her very much. More than any question she could ask you.

“Your eyes look very happy, y/n.”, she suddenly said.

You had not been prepared for that. Your eyes widened, making Azula grin. It was not her usual grin, though. It seemed like this grin was not fueled by self-absorption and superiority as it had been until now, but rather Azula seemed to be genuinely happy, feeling real joy. You had never seen that on her before, so naturally you were very happy for her! And for yourself, for being able to witness such a beautiful moment and being part of it.

“Oh I wish the visits weren’t this short.”, Azula said, her gaze still venturing in the depth of your eyes. You were a bit confused. “Azula, the visit has just started - we have plenty of time. Also, I will come back soon! As soon as possible!”, you quickly assured.

Azula tried getting closer to you, but she was restrained by her chains. You had both almost forgotten about them. “Y/n, I do not only want to be with you during visits.”

You were speechless. All your blood was gathering in your head and your voice decided this would be a good moment to give up. “A-azula … I want to see you more often too…” you mustered up all the courage you had. “In fact”, you gulped, “I feel pained in every moment we are separated from eachother.”

Azula smirked and lifted her nose up, making her look as powerful as before; she was clearly enjoying you being flustered. But there was something different, something new in her eyes. Something that had not been there a few months ago, and that had grown each time you visited her.

“You like me, y/n, don’t you?”

Azula lowered her head, and it seemed like there even was a bit of worry or insecurity in her voice when she asked again: “You do, right?”

“Yes Azula, I do.”

You wanted to hug her, caress her and hold her close, but knowing that the guards would rush in and restrain you, it was better to remain sitting. You did not hold back expressing your affection verbally, though.

Azula was, like always, the first one to regain her composure, and you tried to do so as well, although it was not easy.

“Well, it’s settled then.", Azula said.

“... What’s settled?”, you asked, unsure of what she meant.

“When I get out of here,'' Azula answered, “I will arrange that we see eachother much more often than we currently do and that the royal family welcomes a new member. And now tell me again how much you love me, y/n.”

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part ten ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

@rosiesghost we were totally on the same page with John and Nadia 🤭

“So, why did the two of you split up? John found someone younger?”

You nearly choke on your water, caught off guard by Nadia’s bluntness.

“Just teasing.” Nadia chuckles softly, taking another sip of her wine. “Younger than you? He’d ‘ave to rob a cradle.”

From the patio, the two of you watched John and the three children kick a football around in the backyard.

Your youngest struggled to keep up due to her age and size. John was quick to help by lifting her from under her armpits, helping her get a good kick in.

“Actually, it was you," you confess, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. Nadia looks at you curiously.

"He wouldn't tell me where he was going when he would come here to visit you and Theo. I thought he was cheating."

Nadia almost frowns a bit, looking back to John and the kids. “And now that you know the truth?”

You sigh softly. “I don’t know… I still can’t move past you. I can’t stop thinking about John cheating on you, and abandoning you and Theo.”

“I told him to leave.”

“You… what?”

Nadia sets her wine glass down on the table between the two of you. “John and I… We weren’t in love, you see.” She starts carefully. “We just had a drunken one night stand, and I fell pregnant with Theo… John proposed just to do the right thing, but it wasn’t what either one of us wanted.”

You sit quietly, absorbing her words. The revelation leaves you stunned. You had no idea...

"We were unhappy for a long time," Nadia continues, her gaze distant as if reliving those moments. "We talked about seeing other people for a while, but John said he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even though there were no feelings between us, he couldn't date around while married. And then he met you."

Nadia smiles to herself as she explains the situation to you. You glance over at John, memories of your first meeting flooding back. John kept insisting that he wasn’t right for you, that you should just forget about him.

Now it makes sense.

Unaware of your eyes on him, John uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. You get a glimpse of his toned, hairy abdomen and that hint of a v-line that still lingers despite him getting softer with age.

“Can’t deny that he’s sexy, though.” Nadia murmurs, a low whistle escaping her lips.

You chuckle and nod in agreement.

The conversation lulls for a moment, both of you lost in your thoughts. The children’s laughter echoes from the yard, and you see Theo twirl your youngest around, her giggles filling the air.

"Do you ever regret it?" you ask quietly. "Leaving him, I mean."

Nadia pauses, considering your question.

"Sometimes. Not because there’s any feelings,” She explains briefly. “He was a good husband, though, and he’s a good father... But I know it was the right thing to do. We deserved to be happy, and so did Theo. And you deserve that, too."

You take a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “You’re right.”

“I have a couple pregnancy tests under the sink in my bathroom.” Nadia mentions casually.

“I’m sorry?” You look at her incredulously.

Nadia gestures to your glass of water, with her wine glass.

•••

The drive back to the rental for your last night before heading back to the states is quiet. The soft hum of the engine and the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road are the only sounds filling the car.

The children, exhausted from their last day with their big brother, are fast asleep in the back seat. Their heads bob slightly with each turn, tiny bodies relaxed in the safety of the car.

You glance over at John, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. He looks deep in thought, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting casually on his knee.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you gather your courage. "Nadia told me about your marriage to her... how it really was."

John's grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly, but he keeps his gaze on the road. "Yeah? What’d she say?

“She told me about how the two of you weren’t really together… just married for Theo’s sake.”

John nods, still watching the road.

“I wish you would have just told me.” You sigh. “I wish you would have trusted me with the truth. Trusted that I wouldn’t have judged you for that.”

“It wasn’t about trust,” John explains. “I just… I wanted our relationship to be about us, our future, not my past.”

You stare at John, frustration starting to resurface. "There is no future without a past, John. You can't just compartmentalize parts of your life and expect it not to affect everything else."

John glances at you, his expression conflicted as he rubs a hand over his mouth and beard. "I know. I fucked up, alright? I was scared. Scared that you'd see me differently, that you'd think less of me."

"John, I already see you differently because of the lies," you say softly, your voice trembling.

The silence in the car is heavy, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You can feel the distance between you widening, even as you sit mere inches apart.

John finally breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant to hurt you.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. "I know you didn't. But it doesn't change the fact that you did."

John pulls into the driveway and parks the car. He turns to you, his blue eyes filled with regret. "I haven’t cheated. I haven’t abandoned my family. Yes, I hid things from you but I came clean.” John takes a deep breath. “How do we fix this?“

“I can’t talk about this right now.” You shake your head, turning to open the passenger door.

John stops you, his hand grabbing yours.

“We made a promise to each other to talk everything out, not fight.” John’s voice was stern as he locked eyes with you. “If you’re going to just walk away again… I’m going to take that as you wanting to end things for good.”

You turn to look at the children, still peacefully asleep in the back seat. The sight of them, so innocent and unaware of the turmoil around them.

"I want to fix this," you say quietly, turning back to John. “I want us to be together again, but-“

“Then we’ll be together again.” John insists.

“It’s not that simple…” You nearly whisper.

“It’s always been that simple with us.” The corners of John’s mouth twitch into a smile. “You found me at a bar and decided we’d be together. I took you on our first date and decided to make you my wife just a year later… It can be that simple. Just say the word, lovey, and I’m yours.”

You study John’s face for a moment. Everything he said is true, whether you want to believe it or not.

“I want us to be together again.” You confirm.

“You mean that?” John’s grin widens, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

You nod, your own smile growing.

John moved to cup your face, leaning closer to plant a kiss to your lips, but you pull back.

“Wait- Before we get too far, have my own secret that I need to confess.”

John’s eyes flicker between yours, his expression shifting from elated to confused.

You reach into your bag and pull out a little blue-and-white box and hand it to him.

John studies it, then looks up to you.

“Y’r fuckin’ with me.” He mutters, eyes practically twinkling.

“You didn’t even look at it yet.” You roll your eyes playfully.

John tilts the box to the side, letting the pregnancy test slide out and fall into his hand.

It’s positive.

“When did you take this? How long have you known?”

“I’ve had a feeling for a while… I took the test at Nadia’s.” You blush.

John tosses the test to the floor of the car and cups your face again, peppering you with kiss after kiss, murmuring a few I love you’s against your lips.

Your oldest, pretending to still be asleep, opens just one of his blue eyes and peeks at his parents giggling and kissing in the front seat.

He reaches his little arm out to gently shake your youngest awake.

“Kissies.” Your oldest whispers, pointing a finger to the front seat.

Your youngest’s little hands fly to cover her mouth, muffling an excited squeal.

<< prev next >>

[st4rryrain]

Strawberry Lip Gloss (Logan Howlett x Reader)

Tags: fem!reader, age gap, ex-dancer!reader, probably ooc, worst!logan, post-deadpool x wolverine, some fluff if you squint, wade x vanessa

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: Brought into a world so different yet so similar to his own, Logan can’t help but continue to keep himself guarded from emotional connection. That is until Wade and Vanessa introduce him to you.

A/N: First fanfic on here! First part of two and the next part is gonna be smut. Muehehe… Proofread but I probably missed stuff. Anyways, I hope I did a good job and you guys enjoy.

Logan didn’t like the idea of emotional connection. He hated knowing that one day, he would disappoint people. He hated knowing that if he got attached to someone, he could lose them and it was all for nothing. The impending doom that would wash over him whenever he had those small moments of happiness was overwhelming. Sometimes he’d wake up in a cold sweat, remembering his life before ending up in a new world. It haunted him like a restless ghost.

“If you don’t leave me alone, I’m going to cut off your legs, bub.”

Logan and Wade were at a bar downtown. Logan hadn’t actually invited Wade, but he didn’t care whether or not he tagged along as long as he let him drink without making any insane remarks.

“What? I can’t ask you things?” Wade whined.

“Not when you ask about things that shouldn’t be asked. Ever.” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

Wade scoffed, “Oh please. Asking about someone’s dick size is not something that should never be asked!”

Logan sighed. So much for giving Wade the benefit of the doubt.

Wade looked down at his phone. “Vanessa should be here soon. She said she’s 5 minutes away.”

Logan groaned. “You invited your girlfriend?”

“Yes, actually! I did invite my girlfriend.”

“If I could kill myself, I would.” Logan mumbled before taking a sip of his whiskey.

“Hey! Vanessa is nice!”

“I’m not annoyed about that, dumbass. I’m annoyed that it means you two are probably going to get handsy in front of my whiskey and I.”

“Don’t worry, she’s bringing a friend for you to get handsy with, peanut.” Wade said while typing away on his phone.

Logan just sighed, unable to comprehend how he even puts up with Wade for a second.

After a few minutes, Vanessa and you walked into the bar. Vanessa gleamed with excitement as she embraced Wade. You simply stood behind her, awkwardly waiting for her to finish.

“Hi, Y/N!” Wade waved. “Long time no see. How’s my favorite original moody pookie bear?”

“Wade, last time I saw you, you almost got me killed. How do you think I’m doing?” You sounded incredibly annoyed and rightfully so.

“Well, nothing a few visits to a psychiatrist and a good trip to pound-town won’t fix!”

“Fuck you.”

“For a girl who looks like she sings to all the woodland creatures and picks cherries on a Sunday afternoon, you sure do have a lot of pent up violence in your body.”

Vanessa smiled as she found the interaction between her lover and you entertaining.

“Fuck, I forgot to introduce you to my new best bud here!” Wade excitedly said, “Y/N, this is Logan. Logan, this is Y/N. I think you guys would get along since you both hate me!” He was way more enthusiastic about it than he should be.

Logan and you met eyes. You gave a small smile. Logan didn’t seem very interested, only letting out a small hum.

Wade turned to Vanessa, “You wanna join me in the bathroom to make sure everything is following state laws?”

Vanessa smiled, “Of course.”

The two lovers scurried away, giddy as if they were teenagers.

You sat a seat away from Logan. “Every time…” You muttered.

Logan didn’t say anything. He faced forward and drank his whiskey. A few minutes passed, the air around you two awkward.

“I was told you’re from a different timeline.” You said, breaking the unbearable silence. “How are adjusting to this new world?”

Logan shrugged. “Fine.”

The silence returned. You sat there awkwardly, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Are you… a mutant?” You asked nervously.

“We don’t have to talk, you know? We can sit here and wait for the others to finish, bub.”

You looked down at the bar counter. “Sorry…”

Logan sighed, “Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean for it to sound mean or anything.”

“Honestly, though… I get it. I’d be mean and angry all the time if I had to live with someone like Wade. Especially Wade.”

A small smile adorned Logan’s face. You smiled, feeling a sense of relief that you had lightened the mood.

“I’m convinced that he was dropped as a baby… multiple times.”

Logan chuckled. “He must keep getting dropped everyday if he’s this fucking annoying.”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“How come you let Vanessa drag you here? It doesn’t seem like you want to be here.”

You thought for a moment.

“I think I just wanted something to distract me since I’ve been feeling shitty.” You shifted in your seat. “I got broken up with like half a year ago.”

“You’re still hung up on someone from half a year ago?” Logan raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

“I mean, I really liked the guy. We dated for a year and a half but things started falling apart when I wanted him to get more serious. I was putting my all into the relationship but he didn’t seem to want the same thing I did.”

“You look young, kid. How old are you?”

“I’m 24.”

“Guys your age are assholes. Those shitheads are like dogs. All they do is eat, shit, sleep, and go into heat.” He grumbled.

“Oh, trust me. I know.” You sighed. “I fucking hate dating guys my age. They always end up being immature and leave me with at least 10 different traumatic experiences.”

Silence once again fell upon you two.

“Holy fuck, those bastards are taking forever.” Logan said.

“Trust me, sometimes they’re gone for hours.”

“How’d you meet Vanessa?”

You blushed. You had started being a dancer at the tender age of 19. Freshly kicked out of your house, you felt like there was no other way. Luckily, you met Vanessa. An older sister figure who took care of you and even let you live with her for some time before you got up on your own two feet. You weren’t necessarily embarrassed about having been a dancer, you were more so annoyed by the constant comments that you “didn’t seem like the type”.

“I…” You toyed with your sleeves, “I met her when we were dancers at the same place. She took care of me and was there whenever I needed her.”

Logan hummed. “Cute.”

“Every time I tell people I used to be a dancer, I get told I don’t seem like the type. I don’t even know what they mean.”

Logan watches and listened to you ramble as you continued on about different things people have said over the years.

“Someone once told me I was too pretty to be a dancer! Like what kind of backhanded compliment is that?” You crossed your arms and rested them on the counter. “Fuck, I dunno.”

“You seem like a sweet girl, bub. I know a lot of dancers don’t do it because they wanted to, but because they needed the money. Was that the case?”

You nodded.

“Did you at least enjoy being one?”

“Fuck no. I hated all those people staring at me the way a hawk circles a critter. The things they’d say, do, and who knows what they thought.”

“I think you’re too sweet to be a dancer. Not saying you don’t or do seem like the type, but more so you didn’t deserve to do something you didn’t enjoy.”

You looked at Logan. He seemed sincere and understanding. A small smile formed on your lips.

“Thanks, Logan. Congrats on being the first outside person to not blame me.”

“Did you guys kiss yet?” A familiar voice asked as it got closer.

You and Logan turned, spotting Wade and Vanessa.

“Holy shit, did you guys survive a fucking bomb or something?” Logan noted how messy Vanessa’s hair was and how disheveled their clothes were.

“Oh we survived a fucking bomb, alright.” Wade smiled. “But seriously, have you two kissed yet?”

“Wade, don’t make me curb stomp you again.” You glared.

Logan turned to you. “You’ve curb stomped him before?”

“Oh yeah. Girl’s got some insane skills.” Vanessa laughed, finding the memory funny.

“You guys ready to go or should we let you guys use the bathroom too?” Wade wiggled his brows.

“I hope the dog shits on your bed.” Logan frowned.

The group exited the bar and parted ways for the time being. Wade continued prying Logan on what he thought of you. He would go on and on about his favorite memories with you like the many times you third wheeled for Vanessa and him, the time you got a new car and crashed it the following week, and the time you curb stomped him for one of the many times he almost got you killed.

Logan and you would frequently cross paths at Wade or Vanessa’s parties or while waiting for Wade and Vanessa to finish having sex somewhere like a restaurant or even the apartment bathroom.

To Logan’s dismay, he had grown very fond of you. You were sweet, smart, pretty, and weren’t afraid to speak your mind, especially when it came to Wade’s stupidity. Sometimes, he’d catch himself staring or hoping to see you or feeling a disgustingly fuzzy feeling in his chest at the thought of you. Wade and Vanessa could tell Logan and you had feelings for each other. The way you looked at each other and enjoyed each other’s company was endearing.

“I dunno how they can go on for so long.” You groaned as you and Logan stood outside in the hallway of the apartment.

“Surprised Al hasn’t kicked Wade out for it.” Logan leaned against the wall.

“Oh she’s tried.” You held Mary Puppins in your arms, not wanting her to bear witness to the sinful behavior taking place indoors.

Logan smiled, placing a hand on the dog’s head for a quick pet.

“Are you seeing anyone, Logan?”

Logan pauses. He stares off into the distance for a moment, contemplating whether or not to avoid the question.

“No. Are you?”

“No.”

An almost deafening silence encapsulates you both.

“Do you want to love someone?” You asked as you held and lightly squished the dog’s paw.

Logan months ago would have said no. Hell, he would have said never. But Logan felt his attachment to you getting the better of him.

“Love isn’t for me, bub. I don’t think I can handle losing someone anymore.”

“Well that’s why you have to find someone who can’t handle losing you either.”

Logan and you looked to each other. You were staring up at him like you were waiting for something.

“You’re the sweetest little thing I’ve met, Y/N.” Logan leaned in a little.

“Only to people I love having around.”

“You deserve someone who will love you and take care of you. Someone who will worship the ground you walk on.”

You smiled shyly.

“A pretty little thing like you needs to be told everyday how perfect you are.”

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stroke my ego?” You joked.

“Can I, sweetheart?” Logan asked, his face inches away.

“Mhm.” You hummed as you leaned upward.

Logan pressed his lips against yours. Your lips were soft and almost addictive. Strawberry flavor peppered along them. You smelled of a delicate perfume and a pleasantly scented shampoo he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Logan cupped your cheek with a cold calloused hand, bringing you closer to his face.

“You do this with all the girls you sweet talk?” You mumbled into the kiss.

“Only the sweet ones named Y/N that I’m fond of.” Logan brushed a strand of hair out of your face. “I’ve only ever been fond of one sweet Y/N.”

You smiled as you parted lips. You’re a little winded from how eagerly he kissed you. It had been like a starving man finding a buffet.

“I’d really like to take you out, sweetheart.” Logan said. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Of course, Lo.”

The door to Wade’s apartment opened and he peeked into the hallway.

“Did you guys kiss yet?”

“Wade, go back inside before I turn your small intestine into a jump rope.” You snapped.

Wade smiled, “Oh you guys totally did.” He went back inside and closed the door, loudly informing Vanessa of his assumption.

“Can’t believe Mary Puppins was the witness to a real life rom-com.” You joked as you cradled the dog.

“More like a horror movie with Wade’s ugly fucking face.”

You, Logan, and Mary Puppins went back inside. You were immediately greeted with Vanessa and Wade smiling like crazy.

“What?” Logan asked.

“You guys kissed.” Wade replied.

“What?” Logan didn’t understand how Wade came to the conclusion. Sure he was right but how did he know?

“Oh don’t play coy with me, peanut. I see that lip gloss on you. You have never worn lip gloss and I doubt you ever will. You’re too afraid to ever serve cunt.”

You set down the dog and turned to Logan.

“Yeah… You do have some of my lip gloss. Sorry, Lo.” You said sheepishly, realizing you left evidence at the crime scene.

Vanessa giggled. “So you admit it!”

“Fucking finally. We didn’t know if you guys would end up even liking each other in that way. This took a lot of planning and a lot of coordination. Better than cupid.” Wade sounded proud of himself.

“You planned this?” Logan asked.

“Well, both of you seemed to want to love and be loved. You also had a common enemy of that being Wade. So Wade and I thought you two might be a good match.” Vanessa explained it with a huge smile that yelled ‘proud mother’.

“Whenever we left you two alone, he hoped you guys would do something. Anything!” Wade recalled.

“You guys weren’t leaving to have sex? You just hoped we’d flirt?” You asked, a little agitated for having to wait for them all those times.

“No. Most of the time, we actually did bang in a bathroom or car.”

“You guys are lucky your little scheme worked.” You crossed your arms and huffed.

“So when’s the wedding?”

“Wade!”

Logan took you out to a quaint little restaurant somewhere on the other side of the city. He paid for the meal despite you insisting you split the bill. He would hold your hand as you entered and exited the car as well as opening and closing the door. To say Logan was infatuated was a complete understatement.

“I don’t want to go back to that apartment with that annoying prick.” Logan complained as they sat in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot.

“We could go to my place.” You gave an alternative, hoping he would say yes.

“You sure, sweetheart?”

“Yeah! Just don’t mind my cat and you’re all good.”

“You have a cat?”

“Her name is Egg. She’s round like one.”

You and Logan drove to your small apartment in a small apartment building. The walls weren’t crumbling and the stairs weren’t on the verge of falling apart. Compared to Wade’s apartment building, this was luxurious.

“I’m home, Egg!” You greeted your feline as you walked through the door.

“Lock the door behind you, please.” You said as you set your things down.

Logan felt giant in your small apartment. It wasn’t that the ceiling was low or anything. He just felt so out of place in a cozy place where there were a few plants here and there, clean counters, and comfy furniture.

“This is Egg.” You picked up a white chubby feline with blue eyes. “She loves to sleep and is currently on a diet ‘cause the vet said she should stop being an egg.”

Logan smiled at her and reached his hand out to pet the cat. The cat seemed to just stare and move her head away from his hand.

“She’s not aggressive. She’s something worse… Judgmental.” You always found Egg’s reaction to people who weren’t you amusing.

You held one of Egg’s paws and playfully waved it, pretending that the cat was waving at Logan. You set the cat down and watched as she strutted away.

“Your cat has an attitude.”

You laughed, “She invented attitude. You should see her with Wade. Even she doesn’t like him to the point she tries clawing his face off.”

If staring was a competition, Logan would hold the world record for most staring at someone with heart eyes. Literally. His eyes were practically the shape of hearts.

“What? Is something on my face? Did I say something?” You asked, worried you may have embarrassed yourself in front of Logan.

Logan leaned down and kissed your lips. “Do you always have strawberry lip gloss on your lips?”

“I dunno, how about you find out and kiss me every time you see me.”

Logan seemed to really like the strawberry lip gloss you wore and almost started to devour your face. His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you closer. He was starting to let his hands wander.

“Not in front of my child.” You protested. “She’s 3! Not even old enough to start kindergarten.”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss. “Alright, doll.”

[heartswithinreach]

Hello! I wanted to say I love your writing and super eager for more! That said, I was recently diagnosed with cancer and was wondering how the lads would react to an MC who was diagnosed with it or something similar? If that's too dark, I'm sorry!

Thank you and I hope your day is great! :)

a/n: i am so sorry anon, i hope you're taking care of yourself and that this can bring you some comfort 💖💖🫂everyone wish anon well!!

LaDS when MC has a cancer diagnosis

Xavier

After a few moments of silence, he accepts the reality of your diagnosis and begins making plans on how to make your life easier. Whatever you need, he'll do it, no questions asked.

For your sake, Xavier is as calm and steadfast as ever. He wants you to continue living life as normally as possible. He'll do subtle, thoughtful things just to remind you how important you are to him and that he’ll always love you, no matter what comes.

With Jenna and your team's full support, you and Xavier both take a leave of absence from duty so Xavier can take care of you during your treatment.

Tara takes the lead in organizing visits and dividing chores they can do so you can rest with nothing to worry about. She spends almost as much time with you as Xavier does and he’s immensely grateful so many support you both.

Xavier listens to your worries and fears. Say what you feel, he's here to shoulder it with you without judgment.

Rafayel

His first reaction is anger — not at you, but at this horrible situation.

No one deserves this and he's so frustrated he can't just make this go away with the money or influence he has. What is it all for if he can't take care of you?

But this isn't about him. Rafayel might not be the most natural caretaker but your bond is forever. He won't just abandon you now.

He can't sleep that night after you tell him so he works till dawn converting a spare room into your home away from home. Being near the sea can help improve your health, right? Well, maybe you should stay with him for while, then!

Rafayel, despite what he may think, is actually a pretty good nurse, fussing over you and making you feel special while keeping your spirits high. He is so attuned to you and your needs, it’s as easy as breathing.

Zayne

As your physician, he saw the signs early on but quickly passed your case on to someone more qualified than him. He couldn't allow his feelings to get in the way of getting you the best possible care.

Zayne is there at every meeting, every check up, every treatment. He didn't expect it to be so difficult from getting too involved but he knows he would be nothing but a hinderance to the team treating you.

So he puts his faith in the capable staff of Akso Hospital while he dedicates himself to your emotional and mental health. He only goes into the hospital a few times a week for his more urgent patients, otherwise, he’s at home with you.

Zayne becomes so considerate and gentle, you'll wonder how you ever thought he was cold. Through it all, he will be your rock.

You need him, now more than ever, and Zayne takes that more seriously than ever oath he’s ever made.

Sylus

Mephisto is never far away so when you’re walking home after getting the news, you’re not very surprised to see Sylus waiting in a dark alley by your apartment. He will pull you into his embrace without a word and hold you together as you fall apart.

Sylus wants to know how you want to proceed and then he wants you to give him permission to make it a reality. He’s always silently hoping you’ll use his resources but now he’s almost pleading.

He keeps some sense of normalcy by continuing to tease and antagonize you, though now more gently than before and only if it’ll get you to smile.

Sylus wishes you could stay with him in the N109 Zone but he knows it’s impossible. You could never get the proper treatment there and he can’t leave his domain for too long. But the twins and Mephisto can do everything he cannot and that brings him some solace.

In time, you and Mephisto become closer until he has a nest in your room and you wake up every morning to something new and shiny on your windowsill to cheer you up. Having even just an extension of Sylus with you until the man himself comes to visit you at night is more comforting than you ever imagined.

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ʀᴏᴍᴇs ʀᴜʟᴇ

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Wife!reader | WC : 10k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN | Under a False Alter

Summary: The deeper levels of both you and Marcus are revealed to one another

Warnings: DUB-CON (Forced/Arranged marriage), ANGSTY, gladiator battles, gore, blood, PTSD, scars, injury, corrupt people, exploitation

A/n: Hey everyone, the new part is finally posted! I've been really busy lately. For those who don't know, I'm a teaching assistant and I also coach cheer and dance at our school. I've been busy getting stuff done for that, so sorry for the wait. Please enjoy! P.S. Sorry, I didn't have time to proofread. (i combined your asks in my own way but sadly there no smut @theamunsonsworld?)

The last day of your honeymoon dawned with a soft, golden light that bathed the villa in gentle warmth. As you and Marcus made your way back to your father's villa in a horse-drawn carriage, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels on the cobblestones filled the silence. Marcus watched the passing scenery, his eyes distant and thoughtful.

Breaking the silence, Marcus turned to you, his brow furrowed. "You know," he began, his tone serious, "when your father brought up that ridiculous expectation over dinner, I had to stop myself from laughing."

You looked at him, surprised. "Laughing? Why?"

"Because," Marcus said, leaning back against the cushioned seat, "the idea that we could just decide to have a child on a whim as if it were that simple, is absurd. Your father lives in a world of his own making sometimes."

You let out a bitter laugh, the weight of the conversation settling in. "He’s always been like that—demanding, controlling. It’s as if he forgets I’m a person, not just a means to an end."

Marcus nodded, a sympathetic look in his eyes. "The expectations of Rome can be suffocating. But we can try to live differently, take our time, even find ways to see your mother."

A spark of hope flickered within you. "It sounds wonderful, but it feels like a distant dream."

Marcus shifted closer, his voice firm yet gentle. "It doesn’t have to be. We can make it a reality, bit by bit."

Your gaze fell, the words heavy on your tongue. "I’ve been rebellious my whole life, Marcus. But the truth is, as a woman, I have no choice. I’m trapped in these roles."

His hand found yours again, squeezing gently. "You’ve always had a fire in you. That spirit is what drew me to you."

A wave of emotions crashed over you, frustration mingling with gratitude. "Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Fighting, resisting, when it feels like nothing ever changes."

"You’ve already changed so much," Marcus reassured you. "And together, we can push further. We can find ways to see your mother. She deserves to know you’re thinking of her."

Your heart ached with longing, the image of your mother vivid in your mind. "I want that more than anything. To have her back in my life, even if only for a while."

Marcus smiled, his expression softening. "We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can travel under the guise of visiting trade routes or exploring new markets. There’s always a way."

You looked at him, a smile breaking through despite everything. "You always find the silver lining, don’t you?"

He chuckled, his eyes bright. "Someone has to. Besides, it’s easier with you by my side."

You felt a surge of gratitude for Marcus, for his understanding and support. "Thank you, Marcus. For everything."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with warmth. "We're in this together. No matter what happens, we'll face it together."

As the silence settled between you, Marcus’s gaze turned contemplative. "Have you ever thought about having kids? I mean, not now, but in the future."

You blinked, slightly taken aback by the question. "Kids? I suppose I have, but not for a long time. I'm only eighteen, Marcus. There's so much I want to do first."

Marcus nodded, understanding but curious. "What do you want to do before that?"

You sighed, the weight of your dreams pressing against the confines of your reality. "I want to see the world, and experience things beyond the confines of my father's estate. I want to spend time with my mother, and really get to know her again. And... I want to build something with you, something that’s ours, without the shadow of my family's expectations hanging over us."

Marcus's curiosity was piqued. "An addition?"

You nodded, a determined look in your eyes. "I want us to live in the villa. The one where we honeymooned and where I spent my childhood. It holds so many memories, and it's the one place that feels like home to me."

Marcus's expression softened. "The villa? That place is beautiful. I can see why you'd want to make it our home."

"It's more than just beautiful," you explained. "It's where I felt happiest, where my mother and I had some of our best times before everything fell apart. It feels like a safe haven, and I want to create new, happy memories there with you."

He squeezed your hand, his eyes searching yours. "And you think having kids would interfere with that?"

"Not interfere, exactly," you clarified, trying to articulate your feelings. "It's just... I want to be ready. I want to be in a place where I feel secure and happy, where I know I can give them the love and stability they deserve. And right now, I'm not there yet. We’re not there yet."

Marcus tilted his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "So, you're saying you need more time to figure things out? Typical."

You narrowed your eyes at him, a playful glint in your gaze. "And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

He chuckled, his laugh a warm, familiar sound. "Just that you're always planning, always thinking ahead. Sometimes, I think you should just live in the moment a little more."

You huffed, a mock frown forming on your face. "Oh, and I suppose you're the expert on living in the moment?"

"Absolutely," he said with a grin, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. "I am the very definition of spontaneous."

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Right, because nothing says 'spontaneous' like planning out our every move on this journey."

"Hey, that was different," he defended, though his eyes twinkled with amusement. "I was being responsible, making sure we didn't end up stranded in the middle of nowhere."

You shook your head, laughing softly. "You know, sometimes I think you just like arguing with me."

He leaned forward, his expression turning serious but his eyes still warm. "Maybe I do. But only because I care about you. And I want to make sure we're on the same page about our future."

You softened, feeling the sincerity in his words. "I know, Marcus. And I appreciate it. I really do. We'll get there, together. But right now, I need to focus on the present, on getting my mother to the villa and figuring out our next steps."

Marcus nodded, his expression resolute. "Then that's what we'll do. Together."

The carriage came to a halt after the long journey. You were back at your father’s palace. The first person in your line of sight was Aurelia, standing tall and poised beside your father. Her presence always brought a mixture of emotions—resentment, bitterness, and a grudging respect for her unyielding confidence. Your father, ever the imposing figure, stood with his arms crossed, a stern expression on his face.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself as Marcus helped you down from the carriage. His hand was a reassuring anchor in the sea of emotions swirling inside you. Your mind raced with thoughts—fear, anticipation, and a deep-seated dread. The memory of the villa, your mother's isolation, and your father's control weighed heavily on you. And now, the nagging worry that you might not be pregnant gnawed at your insides. You had to face them both with a facade of calm.

Marcus’s grip on your hand tightened slightly as you approached your father and Aurelia. He had always been your guide, your support, and now was no different. His presence gave you the strength to lift your chin and meet their gaze head-on.

“Welcome back,” your father said, his voice cold and detached. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“It was fine, Father,” you replied, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you for asking.”

Aurelia’s eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and malice. “You look well,” she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. “I’m sure the trip was good for you both.”

Before you could respond, your father turned his gaze to Marcus, his eyes narrowing. “Did you manage to fulfill your duties, Marcus? I trust you took full advantage of the... solitude?”

You felt Marcus stiffen beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. “Our trip was about more than just that, Sir,” Marcus replied evenly, though you could sense the tension in his voice.

Your father wasn’t satisfied. “More than that? Do you understand the gravity of your position, Marcus? My daughter’s primary responsibility is to produce an heir. Have you been diligent in your efforts, or have you been wasting time?”

Anger flared inside you, and you stepped forward, your voice sharp. “That’s quite inappropriate, Father. Our trip was about reconnecting and planning our future.”

Your father raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Your future is already decided. You are to produce an heir. Everything else is secondary.”

Marcus intervened, his voice calm and measured. “With all due respect, Sir, building a strong foundation for our future is essential for the well-being of our potential children. It ensures they are brought into a stable and loving environment, which, in the long term, benefits your legacy.”

You bristled at your father’s invasive question, but Marcus’s reasoning was sound. Your father’s eyes flickered with a hint of consideration before hardening again. “Your pretty words won’t change the facts. An heir is needed. Quickly.”

Aurelia’s laughter cut through the air, sharp and vindictive. “Now, now, let’s not get heated. We’re all family here, aren’t we?”

You shot her a glare, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, yes, family. How could I forget?”

Aurelia continued, her tone saccharine. “Your father only wants what’s best for you. We all do.”

Marcus stepped in, his voice calm but firm. “We understand the expectations, but we also need to live our lives the way we see fit. The stability and happiness of our family should come first.”

Your father’s eyes narrowed further. “You will do as you’re told. You owe it to this family.”

The tension in the air was palpable, and you felt your frustration boiling over. “I owe this family nothing. I’ve been controlled and manipulated my entire life. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

Aurelia stepped closer, her presence imposing. “Let’s not forget our manners, dear. We all have roles to play, and you must play yours.”

Your temper flared at her condescension, the years of resentment bubbling to the surface. “And what exactly is my role, Aurelia? To be paraded around like a prize, while you sit here on your high horse?”

Aurelia’s smile was icy. “Careful, sister. Your jealousy is showing. Not everyone is cut out for greatness.”

You took a step forward, hand twitching with the urge to slap her. “Jealousy? Of you? Don’t make me laugh.”

Before you could act on your impulse, Marcus gently but firmly grasped your arm, pulling you back. “Enough,” he said quietly, his voice a mix of warning and concern.

Aurelia’s smirk widened, sensing victory. “Always the temperamental one. It’s a wonder Marcus puts up with you.”

You were about to retort when a maid hurried into the courtyard, her face pale and anxious. “My lord, my lady,” she addressed your father and Aurelia, glancing nervously at you. “I have urgent news.”

Your father’s stern expression softened slightly. “Speak.”

The maid took a deep breath. “Lady Aurelia is with child.”

Aurelia’s triumphant smile was instantaneous, and she looked at you with smug satisfaction. “Looks like I’ll be fulfilling my role just fine.”

You felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath you. The news hit you hard, a mix of emotions swirling inside you—anger, hurt, and a deep-seated fear of being overshadowed.

Your father stepped forward, his gaze heavy with expectation. “I hope to hear the same from you soon,” he said, his tone a blend of command and disappointment. “But for now, I have work to do and a marriage to finalize with your mother. We’ll speak more of this later.”

Marcus tightened his grip on your arm, sensing your rising fury. “Let’s go,” he murmured, practically dragging you away before you could lash out further.

As you walked briskly away from the courtyard, you seethed. “How dare she? How dare he?” you muttered, your mind racing with thoughts of betrayal and injustice.

Marcus slowed his pace, his expression one of deep concern. “You can’t let them get to you like this.”

“How can I not?” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “She always wins, always gets the praise, and now this? And Father... he doesn’t even see me.”

Marcus stopped, turning to face you fully. “I see you. I’ve always seen you. And I love you for who you are, not for any role you’re supposed to play.”

His words were meant to comfort, but the pain of your father’s disregard and Aurelia’s gloating was too fresh, too raw. “It’s not enough,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “I need to be more than just... tolerated.”

Arriving at your bedchamber, you muttered under your breath, “He wants to finalize the marriage with my mother. To bind us even more to his plans.”

Marcus closed the door behind you, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and determination. You stood there for a moment, the weight of everything crashing down on you, before the rage started to build. The anger that had been simmering all day erupted like a volcano.

“Gods, Marcus, I can’t take this anymore!” you screamed, your voice breaking with the force of your emotions. “Every single thing he does, every decision he makes, it’s all about control. He treats us like pawns, like we’re nothing more than pieces on his chessboard!”

Marcus watched you, his face stoic, but his eyes were full of understanding. He knew you needed to get it all out, to release the torrent of fury that had been building for so long.

You began to pace the room, your hands clenched into fists. “He wants nothing to do with my mother, and now he’s probably scheming to marry her off to some other noble. It’s like she’s just another tool to be used! And Aurelia—gods, I hate her. She’s always gloating, always scheming. She thinks she can replace my mother and secure her own power. And now, she’s pregnant before me. Pregnant! Not that I want to be pregnant, but she’s doing it just to spite me, just to rub it in my face!”

Your movements became more erratic, your pacing more frantic. “And my mother, what will happen to her? She’ll be left with nothing. Nothing! While Aurelia parades around, acting like she owns everything. She’s pregnant, Marcus, and everyone will fawn over her, praise her, while I’m just... just here. Expected to play a role, to be a good little pawn in his game.”

You stopped pacing abruptly, turning to Marcus with fire in your eyes. “And do you know what I want? I just want to be with you. I want to fuck my new husband without having to think about heirs and duties and all this... this bullshit! Is that so much to ask?”

Tears of pure rage welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You wiped them away furiously, refusing to let them fall. “I hate him, Marcus. I hate the way he makes me feel, the way he manipulates everything to suit his own needs. And I hate that I feel so powerless against him.”

Marcus stepped closer, his hands outstretched, but you waved him off, needing to continue venting. “And it’s not just him. It’s everything. The way Aurelia gloats, the way the servants look at me with pity, the endless expectations and demands. I can’t even breathe without feeling like I’m disappointing someone. It’s suffocating!”

Your voice broke as you continued, the tears finally spilling over. But they weren’t tears of sadness—they were tears of anger, of frustration, of sheer, unadulterated fury. “I’m so tired of feeling trapped, of feeling like I’m not good enough. I want to live my own life, make my own choices. I want to be free, Marcus. Is that too much to ask?”

You turned to him, your chest heaving with the effort of releasing all your pent-up anger. Marcus stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. You resisted at first, but then you let yourself sink into his embrace, the fury still burning inside you but tempered by his presence.

“I love you,” Marcus whispered, his voice steady and calm. “I love you for who you are, not for who you’re supposed to be. You’re not alone in this. We’ll find a way.”

His words were few, but they were like a balm to your raging soul. You clung to him, letting the tears flow freely now, your body shaking with the force of your emotions. “I just want to be free,” you whispered, your voice broken but determined.

Marcus held you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair. “We will be,” he promised. “We’ll find a way to break free from all of this. Together.”

You cried into his shoulder, your tears soaking his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just held you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. Slowly, the fury began to ebb, replaced by a weary resolve.

“We’ll get through this,” Marcus said softly, his voice full of conviction. “One step at a time. And we won’t let him win. Not now, not ever.”

You nodded against his shoulder, the fire inside you still burning but now directed towards a purpose. “We’ll fight,” you agreed, your voice steadying. “We’ll fight for our freedom, for our future. Together.”

Marcus pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. “Together,” he echoed, his eyes full of love and determination.

You took a deep breath, feeling a new sense of resolve. The road ahead would be difficult, but you were ready to face it. With Marcus by your side, you knew you could overcome anything. And you would—no matter what it took.

As you pulled back from Marcus, your eyes met his, and you felt a flicker of hope. But then reality crashed back in. “But what if things don’t change, Marcus? What if life in Rome is just more of the same? More schemes, more manipulation?”

Marcus sighed his brow furrowing in thought. “Life in Rome will have its challenges, no doubt. The politics, the power plays—it won’t be easy. But we’ll navigate it together. We’ve faced worse before, and we’ve come out stronger.”

The truth of his words resonated with you, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. “I just wish we didn’t have to play these games. I want to live, Marcus. Really live.”

He nodded, his expression serious. “And we will. We’ll find moments of peace, places where we can be ourselves. Just like the beach. We’ll make our own freedom, carve out our own happiness. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m just so tired of fighting. Tired of always being on edge.”

Marcus pulled you close again, his embrace strong and reassuring. “I know. But you’re not alone in this fight. We’ll face it together, and we’ll find a way to create the life we want. No matter what it takes.”

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a mix of exhaustion and determination. The road ahead was uncertain, but with Marcus by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope. Together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, and together, you would find a way to break free from the chains that bound you.

“My lord, there’s—” the guard started, but you pulled away from Marcus, not wanting anyone to see you so vulnerable.

“What is it?” you snapped, your voice sharp.

The guard hesitated, clearly taken aback by your tone. “There’s a situation in the courtyard. Your father demands your presence immediately.”

You exchanged a worried glance with Marcus before standing. “Fine. Tell him we’re coming.”

As the guard left, you turned to Marcus, your earlier anger rekindling. “This never ends, does it? He won’t even let me have a moment of peace.”

Marcus squeezed your hand, his touch reassuring. “We’ll handle it. Together.”

As you walked with Marcus toward the courtyard, the weight of unspoken words hung between you. Your frustration bubbled up, manifesting in a sharp, sarcastic tone. “Another grand announcement from my dear father. How thrilling.”

Marcus squeezed your hand gently, trying to calm the storm inside you. “We’ll face it together.”

In the courtyard, your father stood at the center, flanked by Aurelia and a handful of stern-faced servants. His piercing gaze locked onto you and Marcus as you approached.

“Well, isn’t this just a picture-perfect family moment?” you said, your voice dripping with irony.

Your father’s expression hardened. “Enough. This is a matter of utmost importance.”

You sighed, preparing for yet another lecture, but your father’s voice turned icy and commanding. “We’ve received correspondence from the Emperor. He demands your and Marcus’s presence at the palace immediately.”

Marcus’s calm demeanor shattered as he took the letter from your father’s outstretched hand. His face paled as he read the contents.

“What does it say?” you asked, trying to peek over his shoulder. But Marcus remained silent, his eyes fixed on the letter, brows furrowed in concern.

Your father’s voice cut through the tense silence. “You are to leave at dawn. Be prepared.”

Marcus nodded stiffly. “We will.”

As you turned to leave, Aurelia’s mocking tone echoed behind you. “Do try not to disgrace the family.”

The knot in your stomach tightened with each step you took away from the courtyard. “Marcus, what’s in the letter?”

He didn’t respond, his silence only amplifying your anxiety. When you reached your chambers, he finally turned to face you, worry etched into his features.

“Marcus, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling.

He exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair. “The Emperor has summoned us. This isn’t a polite request; it’s a command. Refusing isn’t an option.”

Your heart raced as you processed his words. “But why? What does the Emperor want with us?”

Marcus’s expression darkened. “It’s about the gladiators. He wants my insights on the performance of the newest recruits.”

You blinked in disbelief. “Gladiators? Why does he care about your opinion on that?”

Marcus’s laugh was bitter, a sound you rarely heard from him. “Because I wasn’t always a general. I was once a gladiator. The Emperor thinks my perspective is valuable.”

Sarcasm bubbled up as you tried to cope with the mounting fear. “So we’re just part of his entertainment now? I know how gladiators work, Marcus.”

His eyes flashed with a sudden coldness, his voice slicing through your sarcasm. “No, you don’t. You’ve never been in the arena, fighting for your life. You’ve never faced that horror.”

You recoiled at the intensity of his response. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just...”

“Just what?” he snapped. “Think it’s easy? Think it’s something I want to revisit? The Emperor wants to parade my past, to judge others as I was judged. It’s a matter of life and death for those men.”

Your anger melted away, replaced by a creeping fear. “Marcus, I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”

He cut you off, his voice low and fierce. “I want nothing to do with that life. But I’m not foolish enough to disobey the Emperor again.”

You stared at him, your own emotions swirling inside you. “So what do we do?”

Marcus was like a stone wall as he spoke, his voice steady and unyielding. “We go. We play their game. The upbringing you despise, the training that shaped me—it has to be on full display. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla are not kind rulers. They won't hesitate to use anyone for their own gain.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “You just saw me scream and yell. I’m not exactly the epitome of grace and strategy.”

Marcus’s expression softened for a moment, a hint of a smile touching his lips. “You’re more than you realize. But we need to be careful. They’re not just rulers; they’re predators. We have to show them strength, unity.”

You shook your head, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Marcus. I won’t let them drag you back into that life. I won’t let them take you away from me.”

He reached out, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he said, his voice filled with fierce tenderness. “But we have to be smart about this. We need to present a united front, show them we’re not to be trifled with.”

You nodded, your resolve hardening. “Together, then. We face them together.”

Marcus pulled you into a tight embrace, his warmth grounding you amidst the turmoil. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered. “We have to.”

As you and Marcus entered the grand hall of the palace, the air was thick with tension. The towering pillars and opulent decorations did little to mask the underlying menace that seemed to permeate the room. Emperor Geta and Emperor Caracalla sat upon their thrones, their eyes narrowing as they took in the sight of Marcus and you approaching.

“Well, well, if it isn’t our esteemed gladiator,” Geta drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. “And his rebellious bride. How charming.”

Caracalla’s gaze was colder, more calculating. “It’s been some time, Marcus. I trust you’ve found civilized life to your liking?”

Marcus’s face remained impassive, but you could feel the tension in his body beside you. “I serve as I am commanded, Your Majesties.”

Geta smirked, his eyes flicking to you. “And your wife. How interesting that you chose to marry someone with such a... colorful history. Tell me, my dear, do you still harbor those rebellious thoughts?”

A chill ran down your spine at his words, and you forced yourself to remain calm. “I am loyal to my husband and to the throne,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t betray your fear.

Caracalla leaned forward, his gaze piercing. “We shall see. Loyalty is tested in the most unexpected ways.”

Your mind raced as you tried to gauge their intentions. The emperors had made Marcus a gladiator, using him for their entertainment and power. Now they were testing you both, probing for any signs of defiance. You knew this was more than a mere audience; it was a test of your loyalty and a way to ensure you posed no threat to their rule.

“I understand your concerns, Your Majesties,” Marcus said, his voice steady and controlled. “But I assure you, we have no intention of going against the throne.”

Geta chuckled the sound grating on your nerves. “Intentions can change. We simply want to make sure you remember where your loyalties lie.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a surge of fear. This was your chance to protect your mother, to ensure she wasn’t caught in the crossfire of political games. If you could gain the emperor’s favor, perhaps they would leave her alone. As the conversation continued, your mind churned with thoughts of her. She had always been a pawn in these power struggles, and you couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering because of your actions. You needed to be careful, to play their game and show them you were no threat.

But despite your efforts to remain composed, your nerves betrayed you. Your hands trembled slightly, and you felt a cold sweat break out on your forehead. You glanced at Marcus, hoping for some reassurance. His eyes met yours, and in that moment, you found an unspoken comfort. His presence was a steady anchor, grounding you amidst the storm of your emotions.

Marcus noticed your fear, and though he didn’t say anything, his hand subtly brushed against yours, a silent promise that he was there for you. His strength and unwavering support bolstered your resolve, giving you the courage to face the emperors.

Caracalla’s gaze shifted between you and Marcus, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “We shall see how well you fare under scrutiny. Your loyalty will be tested, both of you.”

Geta’s expression darkened. “Do not forget, Marcus, that we made you what you are. And we can unmake you just as easily.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, but he remained composed. “I am aware.”

The emperors exchanged a satisfied glance, clearly enjoying their display of power. “You are dismissed,” Geta said, waving a hand dismissively. “Remember, we are always watching.”

As you and Marcus turned to leave, your heart pounded in your chest. The encounter had been a stark reminder of the precariousness of your situation. You were walking a tightrope, balancing your need to protect your family with the constant threat of imperial retribution.

Once you were outside the hall, you let out a shaky breath. Marcus pulled you into a quiet alcove, his hands gently cupping your face. But instead of finding solace in his touch, you saw the fear in his eyes, a deep-rooted terror that mirrored your own.

“Marcus,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “are you alright?”

He tried to muster a reassuring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m fine,” he said, but the lie was thin, transparent.

You took his hand, feeling the tremor in his fingers. “No, you’re not. You’re scared.”

Marcus’s eyes darted away, his shoulders tensing. “I can’t go back to that life,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t be their pawn again.”

You felt a surge of protectiveness, the same anger that had fueled you the day before now burning on his behalf. “We won’t let them do that to you,” you said fiercely. “I won’t let them.”

His gaze snapped back to you, a mixture of fear and desperation in his eyes. “How can you be so sure? They’re the emperors. They can do whatever they want.”

You squeezed his hand, pulling him closer. “Because we’re stronger together. And we won’t let them break us.”

He took a shuddering breath, his eyes searching yours. “I don’t want to go back to that place,” he said, his voice breaking. “The things I did, the things I saw...”

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. “You’re not alone, Marcus. I’m here with you.”

For a moment, he clung to you, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Then, he pulled back, his eyes haunted. “Sometimes, it’s like I’m still there. Like I never left.”

You felt a pang of fear for him, a deep concern that he was showing signs of something you couldn’t quite understand but knew was serious. “We’ll get through this,” you said, your voice steady. “But right now, we need to get to our room. You need to rest.”

He nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. Together, you made your way back to your chambers, the weight of the day pressing down on you both. Once inside, you closed the door and guided him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Talk to me,” you urged gently. “Tell me what’s going on in your mind.”

Marcus’s eyes were distant, as if he was seeing something far away. “It’s like... like I can hear the crowds again. Feel the sand under my feet, the weight of the sword in my hand. The fear, the anger—it all comes rushing back.”

You knelt before him, taking his hands in yours. “You’re not there anymore. You’re here with me.”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “But I’m not, am I? I’m always going to be that gladiator to them. A tool to be used, a spectacle to be enjoyed.”

Your heart ached for him, for the pain he was reliving. “Marcus, look at me.”

His eyes met yours, and you saw the depth of his fear, the scars that ran deeper than you had realized.

“You’re not just a gladiator,” you said firmly. “You’re my husband. You’re a general, a leader, a man with a future. And we’re going to get through this together. We’re going to show them that they don’t control us.”

He took a deep breath, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“You are,” you said, your voice unwavering. “And when you feel like you can’t go on, I’ll be here to hold you up. Just like you’ve always done for me.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. “You’ll never have to find out,” you murmured. “We’re in this together, no matter what.”

Marcus held you for a few moments longer, then pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders. “Can we talk about something else?” he asked, his voice tinged with weariness. “I need to take my mind off all of this.”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “Of course. Actually, when I was in the carriage, I was brushing up on my Latin. Just in case the emperors decided to make things even more difficult by not speaking English.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “The carriage? I was wondering what you were saying to the driver.”

A laugh broke through his tense demeanor, the sound lifting some of the weight between you. “Latin, huh? How’s that going?”

You shrugged, feeling a bit more at ease. “Not too bad, actually. Although, I think I might have accidentally told the driver that his mother is a donkey.”

Marcus chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Well, I’m sure he appreciated the compliment.”

You playfully swatted his arm. “Hey, I’m trying here! Besides, it’s not like I had much else to do.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Come here,” he said, his voice softer now as he pulled you into his lap, guiding you to straddle him. His hands settled on your hips, and you could feel the warmth of his body through your clothes.

You relaxed against him, your arms looping around his neck. “I missed this,” you admitted, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on his skin. “Just being us.”

“Me too,” he murmured, his hands moving up your back in a soothing motion. “It feels like everything’s been so chaotic lately.”

You nodded, resting your forehead against his. “But we have each other, and that’s what matters.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Always.”

For a while, you sat there in comfortable silence, the tension from the day slowly melting away. You exchanged light-hearted banter, your bickering and teasing gradually returning to the easy rhythm you both cherished.

“Remember when we first met?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

Marcus’s eyes lit up with the memory. “How could I forget? You were trying to run away from our arranged marriage and fell off the horse you were riding.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I was so determined to escape. I didn’t even realize how dangerous it was.”

He chuckled softly. “You were fierce, that’s for sure. Maybe I should teach you how to ride properly.”

You raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Are we still talking about horses?”

Marcus’s grin widened, his eyes darkening with playful intent. “Depends. Do you want a lesson?”

You leaned in, your breath mingling with his. “Only if you promise to be a very hands-on teacher.”

He kissed you back, his hands tightening on your hips. “Oh, I’ll make sure you get all the practice you need.”

You pulled back slightly, your expression turning more serious. “Marcus, can I ask you something?”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “Of course. Anything.”

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “What do you think about kids? How many would you want? And… do you have any names in mind?”

Marcus looked thoughtful, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve always wanted a big family,” he said slowly. “Maybe three or four kids. I think it would be nice for them to have siblings, to grow up with a sense of family and support.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’d like that too. And names?”

He smiled, a distant look in his eyes. “I’ve always liked the name Alexander for a boy. And maybe Lucia for a girl. Strong names, with history and meaning.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. “I like those names. They feel… right.”

He hesitated for a moment, then looked at you with a mixture of concern and vulnerability. “Is there something else on your mind?”

You bit your lip, feeling a bit nervous. “Actually, yes. I was wondering… could you stop cumming inside of me every time we… you know, make love?”

Marcus blinked, clearly taken aback by your request. “Why? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just… I want to make sure we’re both ready when we decide to have children. I don’t want to rush into it because of… well, an accident.”

He looked relieved, then thoughtful. “I understand. I just… I guess I hadn’t really thought about it that way.”

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. “I love you, Marcus. And I want us to build our family together when we’re both ready.”

He nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’re right. We should be deliberate about this. I promise, I’ll be more careful.”

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

He kissed you back, his hands moving to cradle your face. “I love you. More than anything.”

You rested your forehead against his, feeling a deep sense of peace. “We’ll get through this, Marcus. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with love and determination. “Together.”

You sat in the coliseum, the roaring crowd around you a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The naval battle below was a spectacle of chaos and violence, the clash of cannons reverberating through the air, each blast sending shockwaves that you could feel in your chest. Ships collided with bone-jarring force, the sound of wood splintering and men shouting echoing through the vast arena.

The emperors insisted on your attention. Emperor Geta’s voice cut through the noise, a chilling command. “Watch closely, my dear. This is the true essence of power.”

You forced yourself to turn back to the spectacle. A cannonball ripped through the hull of a ship, sending debris and bodies flying. The water turned red with blood, the cries of the dying blending with the roar of the crowd. Your stomach twisted, and you clenched your hands in your lap, willing the nausea to pass.

You tried to focus on the details, finding yourself strangely drawn to the movements and strategies of the combatants. You rooted silently for the ship you wanted to see survive, your heart racing with each close call. The emperors watched you closely, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and amusement. They seemed to thrive on the chaos, their power evident in the way they manipulated those around them.

Emperor Caracalla leaned in, his voice dripping with malice. “Do you see how they struggle? Like ants in a flood, all their efforts meaningless. Yet, it's so entertaining.”

You nodded absently, your mind half-focused on the battle. The cruelty of the emperors was a constant presence, but you found yourself oddly captivated by the sheer spectacle of the naval engagement. Each cannon blast, each desperate maneuver, drew you in deeper.

Marcus was away, speaking with the other generals, his face drawn and pale when he returned. He immediately noticed your distress. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and urgent.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. He took your hand, squeezing it gently, his own fear and worry evident in his eyes. “I hate this,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I can’t look away.”

Marcus’s eyes darkened with understanding. “That’s their power,” he said softly. “They make us complicit in their cruelty.”

Emperor Geta’s voice interrupted your exchange. “Ah, Marcus. Come, sit with us. Enjoy the show.”

Reluctantly, Marcus guided you to sit beside him, his grip on your hand tight. The emperors’ attention shifted back to the battle, their comments filled with a sickly admiration for the carnage. “Look at that,” Geta exclaimed as another ship went down, “such bravery wasted on a lost cause.”

Caracalla chuckled darkly. “Indeed. It’s fascinating how they cling to hope even in the face of certain death.”

Marcus’s jaw clenched, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and sadness. He leaned in closer to you. “They won’t talk about the true cost,” he said, his voice barely audible. “The lives lost, the families left behind. To them, it’s all just a game.”

You nodded, your hand tightening around his. The brutal display below was more than just a show; it was a reminder of the emperors' absolute power and the fragility of your position. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and the deafening roar of the crowd, a relentless assault on your senses. You could barely focus on the battles, your mind racing with fear and the need to stay strong for Marcus.

The next gladiators entered the arena, their expressions a mixture of determination and resignation. As they clashed, you tried to avoid looking at the bloodshed, but the emperors' voices cut through your resolve. "Watch carefully," Caracalla commanded, his tone devoid of empathy. "This is where men are forged."

Marcus’s hand trembled in yours, and you could feel his heart pounding as if it were your own. He kept his eyes on the fighters, but you could see the haunted look in his gaze, memories of his own time in the arena flooding back. His muscles were tense, every fiber of his being screaming to protect you, to fight against the fate they were trying to impose on you both.

With each brutal kill, the emperors’ excitement grew. They leaned forward, shouting encouragement and jeering at the combatants, their faces alight with sadistic pleasure. "Ah, there it is!" Geta exclaimed as a particularly gruesome decapitation took place. "Such skill, such beauty in the art of death."

You pressed closer to Marcus, trying to shield yourself from the horror unfolding below. "We have to find a way out," you whispered, your voice trembling. "We can’t let them do this to us."

Marcus nodded, his eyes never leaving the arena. "I know," he said, his voice strained. "But we have to be careful. They’re watching our every move."

The next fight began, even more savage than the last. You felt as if you were trapped in a nightmare, unable to escape the relentless violence. Marcus’s grip on your hand was the only thing keeping you grounded, a lifeline in the sea of blood and death.

The emperors’ voices grew louder, their laughter echoing around the coliseum. “You see, Marcus,” Geta said, turning to him with a predatory smile. “This is why we miss you. Your fights were always the highlight, full of glory and gore. These men… they lack your finesse.”

Marcus stiffened beside you, his grip on your hand tightening. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the barely controlled fear and anger simmering beneath the surface. His breath was shallow, his eyes darting nervously around the coliseum. The confident warrior you knew seemed to have vanished, replaced by a man haunted by his past.

Caracalla leaned in, his gaze fixed on the arena below where a mere boy, no older than twelve, was being led out. The tiger, a majestic and deadly creature, prowled on the other side, its eyes gleaming with hunger. “Tell us, Marcus,” Caracalla said with a sinister gleam in his eye, “who do you favor? The boy or the beast?”

A chill ran down your spine, and you found your voice. “This is madness,” you protested, your voice trembling. “He’s just a child!”

Geta’s gaze snapped to you, his eyes cold and unfeeling. “Silence,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “Marcus will speak for himself.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking between the boy and the tiger. He looked like a man on the edge, torn between his desire to protect and his fear of the consequences. “Neither,” he said finally, his voice shaky. “This isn’t a fight. It’s a slaughter.”

Caracalla’s laughter was a harsh, grating sound. “Oh, but that’s the beauty of it, isn’t it? The unpredictability, the thrill of survival against impossible odds.”

You wanted to scream, to protest further, but the emperors’ power was absolute. You could only watch in horror as the scene below unfolded. The boy looked terrified, his small frame trembling as he faced the tiger. The crowd’s bloodthirsty roars grew louder, drowning out any semblance of reason.

“Perhaps,” Geta said, his smile never reaching his eyes, “Marcus should fight instead. Show us once again why he was the best.”

Marcus’s hand tightened around yours, the pressure almost painful. You felt his body tremble, each muscle tense with a mixture of fear and anger. His eyes were fixed on the boy and the tiger, a haunted look replacing the confidence you once knew. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, betraying the inner turmoil he was desperately trying to contain.

“No!” you exclaimed, unable to contain yourself. “He’s not your puppet. He’s not here for your entertainment.”

Caracalla’s eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto you with a predatory intensity. “Such spirit,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Marcus, you are a lucky man.”

The words seemed to cut through Marcus like a blade. He turned to you, his eyes wide and wild. “Stop,” he hissed, his voice low and trembling with fear. “Just stop. You’re making it worse.”

You felt a pang of hurt at his harsh words, but you knew he was scared. You squeezed his hand, trying to offer comfort, but he pulled away, his gaze flicking nervously between you and the emperors.

“Perhaps,” Geta said, his smile never reaching his eyes, “Marcus should fight instead. Show us once again why he was the best.”

Marcus didn’t protest this time. He didn’t argue or try to reason with them. He simply stood there, his body rigid, his face pale. You could see the fear in his eyes, the memories of past battles and bloodshed that haunted him.

“Marcus, please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Don’t do this.”

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desperation. “I have no choice,” he said softly. “They leave me none.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "What exactly are the terms?" you asked, your voice firmer than you felt.

The emperors exchanged amused glances. Geta leaned forward, a predatory smile on his lips. "If Marcus wins, he may choose any residence owned by us as a treat for his newlywed wife. A generous offer, wouldn't you say?"

"And if he loses?" you pressed, your stomach twisting with dread.

Caracalla's smile was a twisted mockery of kindness. "If he loses, he will fight for all of Rome again. But this time, he will take the place of the boy who is supposed to fight the lion."

Your blood ran cold at the thought. "This is madness," you whispered, barely able to contain your horror. "You're talking about a man's life as if it's a game."

"Everything is a game, my dear," Geta replied, his tone dripping with condescension. "And Marcus knows the rules better than anyone."

Marcus stood there, his face pale, his body trembling with a mix of fear and determination. He looked at you, his eyes pleading. "I will do what I must," he said softly. "For us."

“No, Marcus, you can't,” you protested, your voice breaking. “There has to be another way.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “I have no choice,” he repeated, the words a hollow echo of resignation.

Before you could say more, the emperors' guards stepped forward, their grips firm and unyielding as they held you back, you struggled against them, your desperation mounting. “Please, don’t do this,” you pleaded, your voice rising in panic. “He’s not your pawn!”

Geta's cold eyes locked onto you, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Such fire,” he mused, almost to himself. “But Marcus knows his duty.”

Caracalla laughed, the sound grating and malevolent. “Watch closely, my dear,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “You might learn something about true power.”

You felt the blood drain from your face as Marcus turned away, walking slowly toward the arena's entrance. The boy and the tiger were being led back into their cages, the boy’s terrified eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before he disappeared from view. Your heart ached for him, but it was Marcus who now faced the same deadly fate.

As the gates closed behind Marcus, you were left standing at the edge of the arena, your hands clenched into fists. The crowd’s roars grew louder, their bloodlust palpable. You sank into your seat, your body trembling with fear and helplessness.

Moments stretched into an eternity, each second marked by the deafening cheers of the spectators. Finally, Marcus emerged, clad in armor and wielding a sword. His face was a mask of determination, but you could see the fear in his eyes. He looked up at you, and you mouthed silently, “I believe in you.”

The gate opposite Marcus creaked open, and the tiger was released. It prowled forward, its muscles rippling under its striped fur, eyes locked onto Marcus with predatory intent. The crowd’s cheers reached a fever pitch, a cacophony of excitement and anticipation.

“Look at him,” Geta murmured to Caracalla, his voice barely audible over the din. “Still has that fire in him, even after all this time.”

Caracalla nodded a twisted smile on his lips. “It’s what makes him so entertaining. Let’s see if he still has the skill to match.”

You clung to your seat, your heart racing as you watched the tiger circle Marcus. Every fiber of your being was focused on him, silently willing him to survive. The arena seemed to shrink, the world narrowing to the deadly dance between man and beast.

Marcus moved with a cautious grace, his sword held steady. The tiger lunged, and he sidestepped, bringing his blade down in a swift arc. The tiger snarled, more angry than hurt, and the battle truly began.

Each clash was a test of Marcus’s skill and endurance. The tiger’s powerful swipes and lunges were met with precise parries and counterattacks. The crowd roared with every close call, their bloodthirsty excitement a constant backdrop to the deadly struggle.

Geta leaned closer to Caracalla, his eyes gleaming with interest. “He’s slower than he used to be,” he commented, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

“But still formidable,” Caracalla replied, his gaze never leaving the arena. “Let’s see how long he can keep this up.”

Your eyes never left Marcus, every movement of his sword, every step he took etched into your mind. You saw the strain in his posture, the weariness beginning to show. But you also saw his determination, the fire that drove him to protect you and fight for your future.

The tiger lunged again, and Marcus sidestepped, thrusting his sword into the beast’s side. The tiger roared in pain, but it wasn’t enough to bring it down. Marcus circled, his breathing heavy, his eyes focused on the next move.

You bit your lip, your hands gripping the edge of your seat. “Come on, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crowd. “You can do this.”

The emperors’ eyes were fixed on the battle, their expressions a mix of amusement and anticipation. “He still has some fight in him,” Geta remarked, his tone almost admiring.

Caracalla smirked. “Let’s see if he can finish it.”

With a final, desperate lunge, Marcus brought his sword down with all his strength. The blade struck true, piercing the tiger’s heart. The beast collapsed with a final roar, its body twitching in its death throes.

The crowd erupted into cheers, their bloodlust satisfied. Marcus stood there, panting and covered in sweat, his eyes searching the crowd until they found yours. He nodded once, a silent promise that he would come back to you.

Geta clapped his hands, a smile of satisfaction on his face. “Well done, Marcus,” he said, his voice carrying over the noise of the crowd. “You have earned your reward.”

Marcus approached, his steps unsteady but his resolve unwavering. “We did it,” he said softly, his voice filled with relief and love. “We made it.”

As soon as he reached you, your emotions overwhelmed you, and tears began to fall. You couldn’t hold them back any longer. The fear, the violence, the constant threat—it all came pouring out. Marcus wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as sobs wracked your body. “It’s over,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. “We’re safe now.”

You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and strength of his embrace. For a moment, it was just the two of you, the world outside fading away. But the respite was short-lived. The emperors, ever impatient, approached with their questions.

“What residence do you desire, Marcus?” Geta asked, his tone dismissive of your pain. “You must choose.”

Marcus looked up, his eyes hardening with determination. “A residence close to the villa near Calacari,” he said firmly. “It’s secluded and secure.”

Caracalla nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Very well. It will be arranged. Now, go and clean yourself. The blood is rather unbecoming.”

Marcus turned back to you, his eyes filled with concern. “Let’s get out of here,” he said gently, guiding you towards the bathhouse.

The bathhouse was a haven of calm, the warm steam rising in gentle curls, a stark contrast to the brutal scene you had just left. Marcus began to strip off his bloodstained clothes, wincing with each movement. You stepped forward to help, your fingers trembling as you undid the clasps and buttons. As his shirt came off, you gasped at the sight of new scars marring his skin.

“Marcus…” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “You’re hurt.”

He shook his head, trying to reassure you. “I’m alright. It looks worse than it is.”

You gently traced the lines of the scars, your touch soft and tender. “I hate seeing you like this,” you said, tears welling up again. “I wish I could take your pain away.”

Marcus smiled, a hint of his usual playful self returning. “You already do, just by being here with me.”

You helped him into the warm water, your movements careful and precise. As he sank into the bath, he let out a sigh of relief. You joined him, sitting beside him and gently washing away the blood and grime. The tension in his body gradually eased, though the pain was still evident in his eyes.

Despite the sadness, you couldn’t help but try to lighten the mood. “You know,” you said with a small smile, “I think I’m starting to enjoy taking care of you like this.”

Marcus chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “I could get used to it,” he replied, his voice low and filled with warmth.

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Once we’re back in our own bed, I’ll take even better care of you,” you whispered, your tone both sweet and flirty.

His eyes darkened with desire, but as he tried to pull you closer, a sharp pain made him wince. “Maybe we should wait until I’m a bit more recovered,” he admitted, his voice strained.

You nodded, understanding and concern in your eyes. “Of course,” you said softly. “I just want you to be comfortable.”

Marcus smiled, his love for you shining through the pain. “We’ll have plenty of time for that,” he said, his hand gently caressing your arm. “Right now, let’s just be together.”

You sat in the bathhouse, the warm water soothing your tired bodies, the world outside momentarily forgotten. The future was uncertain, but as long as you had each other, you knew you could face anything. Marcus’s presence was your anchor, and together, you would find your way back to peace and happiness.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The storm had passed, and now, it was time to heal and rebuild. With Marcus by your side, you knew that anything was possible.

After a long while of comfortable silence, you finally spoke, your voice soft but firm. “Marcus,” you began, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. “You can never, ever go silent on me like that again. Do you understand? The fear of not knowing what you were thinking, what you were feeling—it’s unbearable. If you ever do, you’ll have something far worse than a lion to face.”

He looked at you, his eyes wide with surprise, then slowly nodded. “I promise,” he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I will never shut you out again.”

You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Good,” you whispered. “Because we face everything together, remember?”

“Always,” he replied, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace.

The weekend from hell was over. Between Aurelia's pregnancy and the gladiators, you and Marcus were emotionally drained. But one question still lingered. "Why the emperor's residence near Calacari?" you asked as the carriage rolled along the uneven roads, taking you away from the horrors of the coliseum.

Marcus looked at you, his eyes softening with tenderness. "It’s not just for us," he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "It's for your mother."

You frowned, confusion knitting your brow. "My mother? Why would you care about where she lives?"

He took a deep breath, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently. "Remember when you told me about your father? How you feared he might leave your mother with nothing? I couldn’t bear the thought of her being alone, vulnerable. This villa isn't on the water but further inland, so it won’t worsen her fear of the sea. She can live there with or without him, and she can stay by us whenever she wants."

You blinked, absorbing his words. "You thought of all that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes. I want her to have a safe place, a sanctuary. Just like I want for us. Life under Rome's rule is too cruel, too unpredictable. We deserve a place where we can be happy, away from the chaos."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you fought to keep them from spilling over. Instead, you leaned in and kissed him passionately, pouring all your gratitude and love into that one kiss. When you pulled back, you whispered, "Never ever go silent on me like that again, Marcus. You scared me. You’ll have something worse than a lion on your hands if you do."

He chuckled softly, a genuine smile breaking through his weary expression. "I promise," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I won't go silent on you again."

The carriage hit a bump, jolting you both, and you clung to Marcus, who winced in pain. "Are you alright?" you asked, your concern immediate.

He nodded, though his face betrayed the discomfort he felt. "I’m fine," he said, but his voice cracked, revealing the truth. "I miss the days when our biggest worry was a petty argument or growing pains. Now, I can't even have my wife on my lap without feeling like my body is falling apart."

Your heart ached for him, and you placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "We'll get through this, Marcus. Together. We’ll find peace and happiness, away from Rome’s cruelty."

Marcus sighed, leaning into your touch. "I hope so. I dream of a life where we can wake up to the sound of birds, not the roar of the crowd. A place where we can raise our children without fear."

You smiled, the vision of that future giving you strength. "We’ll make it happen. We’ll build that life, one day at a time."

Marcus smiled back at you, his eyes twinkling with a glimmer of hope. "I believe you, but how soon are we talking?" he asked, a playful tone creeping into his voice. "I don't think I can stand another day in Rome's chaos."

You chuckled, feeling a bit lighter. "Patience, my love. We’ll get there. But first, we need to survive the next few months."

Marcus groaned dramatically. "Months? You're killing me. I was hoping for days, maybe weeks."

You playfully swatted his arm. "Oh, stop it. You know it’ll take time to arrange everything."

He grinned, leaning in closer. "I guess I'll just have to endure your company in the meantime."

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. "Endure, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"

His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "I wouldn't trade a moment of it, not for anything," he said softly. "Even if it means dealing with your father’s wrath when we get back."

You sighed, the reality of your situation creeping back in. "He’s not going to take the news well, is he?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, probably not. But we’ll face it together. Just like we’ve faced everything else."

You nodded, drawing strength from his unwavering support. "Together," you echoed, the word a promise as much as a reassurance.

[nadvs]

For sleeping with the enemy, can we get Rafe and reader first time saying “I love you.” How would that go for them? Who would say it first?

ofc!! she says it first and it comes out during a fight 👀

based on this fic, mentioned in this blurb

he’s been living a three-hour flight away for one month of their seven-month relationship. she’s still in college while he’s playing in the nba and she’s visiting him for the first time since he moved.

after they got to his condo from the airport, they slept together and now they’re eating dinner in his kitchen. there’s still tension between them, because of how much they’ve been arguing on the phone since he left. because of how they had a silent spell for days and she said they needed it. because they weren’t even in a good place to begin with when he moved away.

rafe asked if that was goodbye sex they just had and she won’t even entertain the thought. she worries he’ll never get over his fear of abandonment, so she reassures him that she doesn’t want to leave him.

he brings up things she said in their last argument, spiteful things she regrets, and she says, “i didn’t mean that. we both say things to hurt each other and we need to stop.”

and he says, “the shit i say isn’t even close to the shit you say.”

she leans back in her chair, her mouth firm. he always does this, tries to convince her that what she did was worse.

“i can’t fight with you again,” she says. “i swear, it’s like you push me away on purpose.”

“me? you’re the one who said we needed a break.”

“we did. but only because all we were doing was arguing.”

rafe stands up, sighing heavily, the heels of his hands covering his eyes. he always does this when they argue, making distance between them. sometimes she’s worried he’ll storm out.

“for fuck’s sake,” he mutters, so damn defeated that they’re fighting again.

she exhales quietly, feeling her throat tightening with tears. this has been so exhausting. she watches him pace around his kitchen. his new high-rise is such a big, shiny reminder of his new life. she worries she doesn’t have a place in it sometimes.

“i just meant i’d rather we take some time off than fight,” she says.

“well, i’d rather fight.”

“and just keep hurting each other?”

“it hurts more not talking to you,” rafe admits.

a few seconds of silence pass between them.

“i don’t want to break up,” she says softly.

“you think i do?” he snaps.

“no. but i think you force me to talk sometimes and then when i do talk, you hold grudges over the things i say.”

“hard not to,” he mutters.

she looks down at the table, eyelids fluttering shut.

“i don’t…” she begins. “my mind is blank at this point. i don’t get why we can’t just be how we were before.”

“because you talk like that,” he says. “like there’s no way we’ll work things out.”

“i don’t,” she counters. “all i’m saying is i miss when we were happy.”

his heart drops. he leans against the counter, eyes boring into her.

“you’re not happy?” he says quietly.

“in general, with you, i am,” she tells him. “but right now? are you? honestly?”

he crosses his arms, jaw tightening as he gazes at her. she looks so broken, sitting at his kitchen table, her lip trembling.

“no,” he admits. how could he be happy when there’s a hole where his heart should be?

she nods in a way that confirms that she knew it.

“it hurts not talking to you, too,” she finally says. “just so you know.”

she watches rafe from across the kitchen, gazing at his profile as he looks down. he doesn’t seem to believe her.

so, even though she’s absolutely terrified that he won’t say it back, that he’s already giving up on them because he seems so convinced that she has, she stands and slowly approaches him, resting her hands on his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i love you, you know that?” she says. his eyes soften, the tension on his shoulders unraveling.

“what?” his voice is almost at a whisper.

“you want me to say it again?” she says with a small smile.

“yeah. say it again.”

“i love you.”

“i love you,” he tells her, his words rushed. “i love you so much. i loved you before you were even my girlfriend.”

her stomach numbs.

“you did?” she says.

he closes his lips over hers, his face almost twisting in pain over how badly he needed to hear that. he kisses her over and over, spiralling into breathlessness.

“why didn’t you tell me?” she whispers, their foreheads touching.

“because if you didn’t say it back, i think i’d die,” rafe admits. he’s never told a girl he loved her. he never got even close to love with anyone else.

but even when they were just friends, he’d take every opportunity to stare at her, to sink into the sound of her laughter. he loved her before he knew he could love somebody.

“do you think we could start my visit right now?” she says. “everything before now doesn’t count. we have a blank slate. can we do that?”

rafe nods.

“we can do that.”

“do you want to take a walk around the city?” she asks. “your condo’s nice, but i’d like to actually explore.”

he smirks. and he thinks about how nice it’d be for her to call it their condo one day.

“yeah,” he agrees.

[squerlly]

Fair Exchange Chapter 5

------"some silences can scream louder than words ever could"--------

Alastor x (F! wife doe reader)

The Doe-----------------------------------------------------

It was later in the morning when Charlie wanted us to do a show and tell day, we all reluctantly agreed but Alastor stayed behind to eat his breakfast. it was Angel's turn claiming he wanted to show us his "best film." I figured it was a movie or play but... it was a porn video...

I tried to keep my eyes away, swiping invisible dust from my dress attempting to stay distracted. Husk eventually jumps in arguing with Angel "Everybody likes to bitch to the bartender! I know everything about you and these motherfuckers" he points at Pentious "That one's an insecure buffoon who watches you all sleep at night" he then points to Charlie and vaggie and then me "that one's constantly taking bullets from everybody because she's a pushover and nifty, tch you don't even wanna know what her deal is." I'm not a pushover...

the argument is short-lived when Angel gets a call from his boss calling him in for work, talking about some emergency shoot and storming out.

Charlie wanted to go and help get Angel some time off of work by talking to his boss, I would have gone with her but I know Alastor wouldn't be too happy if I was out in the Vees district without him. seeing as how our last visit went I don't think it would be a good idea.

Charlie left and I went back upstairs to Alastors room to pick up his dishes, knocking on the door "Alastor? may I come in" There was a long pause before the door opened, Alastors shadow giving me a grin as he stepped aside to let me in. I don't really see Alastor's shadow that often considering he only uses it for scouting, investigating, or fetching things when I'm not available.

however, when I stumble upon his shadow, it stares at me with that same evil grin. from what I have gathered over the years, the shadow is just an extension of Alastor, mimicking his personality and actions. Sometimes, if you look closely, it can display his emotions with its cold black body and inky blue tongue. It's more curious than Alastor, peering around people's shoulders and poking through others business. I never seemed to mind it.

there's something different this time, it's acting off. usually, it just pokes around and then returns to Alastor but not this time. No, it's staring at me, watching me, almost like it's inspecting me... I try to ignore it, walking over to pick up Alastors dish "Thank you my dear" "of course, is there anything else you need?" "no, your free to enjoy the rest of your morning"

I turn to leave but then remember something "Oh I almost forgot, do you mind if I grab a book from your shelf, I finished my other two.." not looking up from his desk he says "As long as you don't touch the books on the top shelf" I look at the shelf of various books next to his fireplace, walking up to choose one. I like to read romance and fantasy, but Alastor as romantic as people say he is, doesn't collect those types of novels. he likes books that are mostly nonfiction.

I ended up choosing a book that wasn't too thick just enough to pass the time and left the room, heading to the kitchen to drop off the plate. on my way there I see something rush from the corner of my eyes but when I look around there's nothing there, that was until I turn back to keep walking. I ended up running right through Alastors shadow, A cold chill running up my spine from its solvent body.

I quickly regain composure, making sure to not drop the plate in my hands "Oh for all that is unholy, you scared me!" I said looking at the shadow "Do you uhh... need something?" it cocks its head and smiles like I said the funniest thing in the world "ok... I guess not." I continue on to the kitchen, washing the dishes before heading upstairs to my room to read, all while having it follow me the entire time.

I walk into my room, kicking off my heels with a tired huff and I plop down on my bed "Are you going to stay here all day?" I say to the shadow that is currently looming around my room, snooping through drawers and various items. I should tell Alastor that there is something wrong with his shadow, but... I'm curious to see what it wants.

I decided to leave it alone since it's not causing much trouble, it's just exploring. I lay back on my bed against the headboard and opened the book to the first page, I only got to page 10 before the shadow poked its head through the book to look at me "Alastor will be mad if you're over here, I suggest you behave" it hovered over me with a frown and it felt almost illegal to see, Alastor never frowns and to see his shadow do it feels wrong "wait... I'm sorry I won't tell him you're here, promise" it doesn't smile but it's not frowning either, it just leans closer to me until I'm nose to nose with it.

it brought a hand to my face and to my surprise I could feel it, not just that cold feeling when it runs through you but its hand was well...there. not knowing what to do I just sat there watching as it caressed my cheek earning a blush from me. what is wrong with me, blushing at Alastors shadow, it's not even a real person, but it feels like it is "What is it you want...?" I say practically whispering.

the door opens startling me and making the shadow turn its head. Alastor stands at the door with a strained smile "Enough!" he says, his voice laced with static. the shadow frowns and retreats behind Alastor "Apologies my dear, it has a mind of its own..." he said through gritted teeth, shooting the shadow a glare "I-it's ok it didn't do anything bad-" "This will never happen again, I will make sure of it." he says in a harsh tone. I opened my mouth to say something but quickly shut it, not wanting to aggravate the situation more.

"Alright..." I say and he turns on his heel to walk back to his room, the shadow looks back at me one more time before it follows Alastor down the hallway. I feel almost sorry for it, even though it's not technically its own person it's still capable of feelings... Alastors feelings. but it makes me wonder, if that shadow is a part of Alastor, emotions, thoughts and all, what was it doing? Why was it following me? and why was Alastor so angry...

there was a loud thud downstairs and I slid off my bed, put my shoes on, and walked downstairs. Charlie had returned but she looked pretty upset "Charlie, how did it go with Angel?" "I messed up, I- I made him angry at me and-" vaggie walks up to her rubbing her back "Hay it's okay, maybe he didn't mean it!" Charlie bursts out in tears and vaggie whisks her away to comfort her.

Husk scoffs from the bar and I scowl at him "Don't be like that!" he growls and takes a swig from his bottle "She's too soft for her own good" I sigh and walk over to take a seat on a stool "a lot like you, showing kindness to other who don't deserve it" "is it so bad that I don't want to be like any other person in this horrible place!" he raises a brow at my sudden outburst "what's on your mind..?" "there's nothi-" "yes there is, your frustrated."

I stare at the counter thinking about my next few words before I speak "Do you think Alastor hates me?" I feel stupid for asking such a thing, but Husk doesn't question it "I doubt that creep likes anyone but himself" I frown and he seems to notice because of what he says next "But I wouldn't be surprised if he did like you" I throw him a puzzled look "why do you think that?" "tch, haven't you ever questioned why Alastor made you his wife" he was right, Alastor was an overlord, if he needed somebody to prepare his meals and clean his house he could just...buy a maid.

"no, I- I haven't..." When Alastor and I first discussed our contract, he said that he and my ex-husband would trade places, me being married to Alastor in exchange for complete devotion to him...and my soul. in the 1950s it was looked down on to divorce your husband or divorce at all, and now that I looked back at it I didn't care about my reputation enough not to get a divorce. but I was desperate for an escape, and desperation makes you do stupid things.

"if he didn't tolerate you, he wouldn't have married you, it's one of the weirdest contracts I ever saw but I wouldn't pry into it too much, just know you're the last person on his shit list" I nod but that doesn't explain why he was so angry, was he even angry at me? suddenly the door to the hotel opens and Angel walks over looking spent.

he plops down on the stool down from me and asks for the strongest drink Husk can make "Excuse me, didn't think this was a drink to forget kinda night" Angel and Husk end up fighting about Angels "acting" resulting in Angel throwing a bottle. I stand away and steer clear of the glass shards before watching Angel storm off "Angel wait..." he pushes past vaggie and out the door. vaggie tells Husk to go after him and Charlie leaves to go make "100 apology letters."

eventually, Husk returns with Angel, laughing and talking while being dirtied and damaged. Charlie rushes over to Angel and apologizes over 50 times before he reassures her "He he he he he said HE FORGAVE ME!!!" Charlie says in tears while vaggie carries her back to their room. I quickly run up to Angel checking up on him "Angel!! are you ok you- you're covered in blood."

"ahh don't worry tuts, I'm alright" I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that Angel isn't hurt "Come on, let's go get a drink" "Oh angel I don't-" "I won't make you anything strong, Alastor would kill me if I did" I hesitate but agree "Ok, but just for a little while..."

so sorry this came out late but here it is!! chapter 5!!! I got writer's block halfway through but still managed to make it work. I will be gone for the weekend to Knots Berry Farm for a family trip so expect chapter 6 to be a little late. and with that have a wonderful day/night love you all!!!

-squerlly

@kimmis-stuff @pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

for more content and chapters please click this masterlist

[storiesforallfandoms]

the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt;five nights at freddy's

word count: 2144

request?: no

description: in which his regular ice cream spot in the mall hires a new girl

pairing: mike schmidt x female!reader

warnings: use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Mike's routine at the mall was a constant: clock in, do two laps around the mall, go for lunch with whoever else was on with him - usually Jeremiah - another few laps around the mall where he'd stop to talk to some of the store managers, then clock out and go home. The only deviations to his routine were the occasional birthday parties he'd be tasked with watching over, and whenever there was someone who needed to be handled by security.

Until he met a new worker at the mall.

He was in line for the ice cream place he would occasionally go to for a dessert after his lunch. They saw him so frequently that his order was usually ready before he even got to the counter - another usual in his routine.

But on this day, when he walked up to the counter, a new face was smiling at him.

"Welcome to Ice Cream Parties," she said. "What can I get for you?"

Mike opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Cindy, one of the usual workers, saying, "We have his order, (Y/N). He's a regular."

(Y/N)'s eyes flickered to Mike's security uniform. "Well, that does make sense. Sorry, today's my first day."

"No, that's alright," Mike said. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, but found himself staring blankly at her instead. He was sure she thought he was crazy, and that thought made his face start to heat up.

Cindy came up to the counter with Mike's usual in hand. She passed it over to him with a smile before going back to work. Mike realized then that he hadn't paid yet. As he started taking his wallet from his pocket, (Y/N) said, "On the house."

"Are you sure?" Mike asked.

She nodded. "Consider it a kind gesture for a regular."

"Well...thanks."

"No problem. It's nice to meet you, Mike."

He was about to ask how she knew his name, but she nodded to his name tag before he could.

Right, that would make sense.

"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)."

After that, visits to Ice Cream Parties became part of Mike's routine. The first few visits were under the guise of actually getting ice cream for himself and Jeremiah. If it wasn't too busy, he was able to have brief conversations with (Y/N) while his order was being made. That excuse didn't last very long, though, as eventually Jeremiah put an end to the almost daily ice cream runs.

"Man, I'm going to gain like 10 pounds a week if you keep getting ice cream for us," he had said.

Mike had to admit, he was getting sick of eating ice cream so much, too. Seeing (Y/N) so often had made it worth it at first, but there was only so much of the frozen treat he could take before it became too much. He thought he'd have to come up with a new excuse to see her all the time, but she took him by surprise by doing it for him.

He was doing his rounds during a shift when he saw (Y/N) walking towards him. She had a smile on her face and she waved when he spotted her.

"Hey!" she said. "I've been looking for you?"

"You have?" Mike asked.

"Yeah! I haven't seen you in a bit. I was worried you quit or something."

"God, no, that's not happening. This is probably the easiest job I could have. I've just...been taking a break from ice cream."

"I don't blame you. You've had so much of it lately, I'm surprised you're not just a walking ice cream cone at this point." She playfully bumped his shoulder as she added, "You know, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't need an excuse."

Mike was shocked into silence. Had it really been that obvious? He had tried to play it cool when he went, but maybe he hadn't been cool enough. Maybe it had been glaringly obvious every time he walked up to the counter and ordered whatever new flavor she recommended that he was desperately trying to figure out a way to ask her on a date.

But then she smiled and laughed, and Mike felt a weight being lifted from his chest.

"I'm joking," she said. "Mostly. If you wanna talk to me, you don't need to come buy ice cream. Just come talk to me."

"Noted," Mike said with a nod. "Well...what are you doing this evening?"

"I'm working the closing shift."

Mike tried not to let his disappointment show. "Oh. I, uh, I'm off in about an hour."

"I clock in in about an hour."

"Not meant to be, I guess."

(Y/N) shrugged. "I guess not. I have to run a quick errand before work, but I mean what I said - don't be a stranger, Mike."

Mike nodded. Once (Y/N) had turned and walked away, he let himself deflate. It wasn't a "no" because she wasn't interested, but it was still disheartening. It was definitely going to take time to build up his courage to ask her again, but at least now he knew she welcomed his company.

A week or so later, Mike found himself at the mall again on his day off. He usually hated to be there when he wasn't working, but Abby started school the next week and she needed new clothes. She had been begging him for weeks to take her shopping, but he kept putting it off until he had no choice but to take her. On the plus side, Abby was extremely easy to shop with because she knew what she wanted, and she knew where to get it. It would be a quick in and out and he could be away from the mall within an hour and a half tops.

But, after leaving Abby's favorite store with the intent on going home, Abby stopped Mike and said, "I'm hungry."

"We have food at home," he reminded her.

"I don't want actual food. I want a snack."

"We have snacks at home."

"We don't have ice cream at home."

That was enough to shut him up and get him to agree. He had no idea if (Y/N) was working that day, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see her.

As luck would have it, she was working. She was at the counter in her stripped apron and white paper hat. She was passing the customer in front of them an ice cream, her customer service smile plastered on her face. Mike had come to learn the difference between her customer service smile and her real smile, because when she would look at him the dull smile would brighten just a little.

When the customer stepped away, he got to see her face light up at the sight of him.

"Oh, hey Mike!" she said. "I thought you were off today."

"I am. I had to take my sister back to school shopping," Mike said, gesturing to Abby.

(Y/N) looked down at Abby and offered her a warm smile. "Well hey there. I had no idea Mike had a sister."

"This is Abby. Abby, this is (Y/N)."

"It's nice to meet you, Abby."

"You too," Abby said. To Mike she added, "Is she the one you always talk to Max about?"

Mike's ears were on fire as (Y/N) looked back up at him. Abby always knew how to say the right things to embarrass him.

"Just tell her what you want," he muttered, suddenly no longer in the mood for ice cream.

Abby ordered for herself and (Y/N) went to make it. Cindy took over at the cash while (Y/N) stepped away, which disappointed Mike. Usually Cindy was the one making the orders while (Y/N) was at the cash, and they'd have their small conversations while Mike waited. He really hoped what Abby had said hadn't scared (Y/N) off completely.

She came back and handed Abby her ice cream.

"Are you guys sticking around much longer?" she asked Mike.

"We weren't really planning on it. Abby just wanted ice cream before we went home."

"I'm off in, like, 10 minutes. If you guys don't mind a third, I mean."

Mike agreed without consulting Abby. Not like the younger girl really cared either way. She was already deep into her ice cream and ignoring the whole conversation.

Mike and Abby sat at a nearby table to wait for (Y/N). Abby finished her ice cream in record time, giving herself a brain freeze. Mike couldn't help but laugh as his sister scrunched up her face in pain.

"That's why you don't eat cold foods that fast," he said.

"Do you like (Y/N)?" Abby asked through the brain freeze pain.

The quick change in topic startled Mike. "I mean...yeah. She's my friend."

"But you like her," Abby said. "You always talk about her, and I saw the way you look at her."

Mike shrugged, trying not to give Abby any other ideas. He didn't need her blurting something else out and embarrassing him again. "She's a friend, Abby. Friends talk about friends."

"Friends don't look at other friends like they want to kiss them, though."

Mike chuckled. "Some do."

Abby gave him a look. He sighed and said, "Maybe I do, but that doesn't give you permission to say stuff to her about it, okay? For now, we're just friends."

"You should ask her out. I think she'd say yes."

"It's not that easy, Abs."

"What's not that easy?"

Mike jumped at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice behind him. When he looked at her, she was already changed out of her work uniform. "Nothing. Abby and I were just talking."

He shot Abby a look to tell her not to say anything. (Y/N) looked between the two of them with a skeptical look on her face.

"Do you have a ride home?" Mike asked.

"If you're offering, then yes. I was supposed to wait around for my roommate to get me, but I'd much rather hang out with you guys and get out of here."

The three of them walked to Mike's car. Abby filled most of the silence by talking to (Y/N) about whatever came to her little mind. (Y/N) just smiled and responded as Abby spoke. Mike would sneak glances at her and smile to himself.

Abby got into the car first, and as Mike was reaching for the door handle to get in himself, (Y/N) said, "Wait."

He paused and looked up at her, confused.

"Why haven't you asked me out yet, Mike?"

The question took him completely by surprise, but that seemed to be her specialty at this point. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was some stuttered nonsense.

"I mean, if you don't like me then that's fine, I get it," she continued. "But I thought that maybe we had a connection, and I keep thinking you're going to ask me out and then you don't, and I'll be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit."

"Whoa, whoa," Mike said. "Slow down. I'm sorry that's how you're feeling, but I've been trying to ask you out. I did ask you out a few weeks ago!"

"That wasn't asking me out! You asked what I was doing and I said working. You didn't even follow up to try and figure out a different day we could've went out instead!"

"I didn't know I was supposed to do that!"

They both paused and, after a moment, they started to laugh.

"I'm clueless with this stuff," Mike admitted. "I haven't dated since high school."

"Well, here's a tip: if you like a girl, ask her out. Her liking you back is more likely than you'd think."

Mike smiled. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I'm sure it's not exactly the date you're thinking of, but Abby wants spaghetti and meatballs tonight, and I do make a mean spaghetti and meatballs."

(Y/N) smiled back. It was brighter than her real smile. It was what Mike decided to dub her "Mike smile".

"I'd love to," she said. "I love spaghetti and meatballs."

Abby opened her car door then and looked between the two of them. "What's taking you so long?"

"Hey Abs, would it be okay if (Y/N) joined us for dinner?" Mike asked, although he already knew the answer.

Abby lit up with excitement and vigorously nodded her head. Mike and (Y/N) finally got into the car and they made their way back to Mike's place. The entire car ride he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

[theushijimaoverlord]

"this whole thing is a mess"

♡ tooru oikawa x reader - 1.3k ♡ warnings - none other than oikawa himself (and some ugly baby shenanigans) ♡ notes - hi! i'm purple and this is my first post, enjoy! (prompt credit from @creativepromptsforwriting)

It was a mess.

A big, tremendous, nearly-unfixable mess.

The day started off normal enough, you in your comfy gray sweat, loose shirt (that may or may not belong to Oikawa), a book you’ve been overdue to read in your hands. As your eyes scanned the pages, your attention was drawn away as you began to the thump thump thump of someone running up the stairs. And unless someone had broken into your house, you already knew who was currently making their way towards your bedroom.

As if on cue, a familiar ruffle of brunette hair came into view as said person came barreling through your door. For an athlete, it always bemuses you how Oikawa always got so winded running up your stairs.

You patiently wait for him to catch his breath. Finally, after he had decided that enough air had entered his lungs, he looked up and if you knew any better from the look in his eyes, you could already tell he was about to tell the most ridiculous thing ever. Because your boyfriend wouldn’t be doing the world justice if he were one for the dramatics.

“You would not believe what I just found out.”

Staring at him for a few seconds, you roll your eyes, close your books and turn your whole body to face him. This was gonna take a while. “Okay I’ll bite. Tell me what you found out.”

If you squint hard enough, you could almost see the joy gleaming in his eye from the fact that he caused you to turn your whole attention to him. But it quickly disappeared as he crossed the room and plopped down face first onto your bed, arms wide, and began whining.

You should convince him to take up theater.

“Come on Tooru, tell me what you came all the way up here for or I’m going back to my book,” Turning his face, Oikawa looked at you and gave his signature pout. If you called him out for it, he would vigilantly deny it.

“Did you remember when you went over to my mom's house a week ago?” 

“When we visited for new years? Yeah I remember, remind me later to ask her for her mochi recipe.”

“Yeah, yeah. So you remember when the two of you decided to torture me by looking at my baby photos?” Honestly, he was the one torturing you with the way he was loudly complaining with each flip of the photo album.

If it wasn’t already obvious by the media attention, countless photo-shoot bookings, and (to his dismay) amount of fanfic being written about him, Oikawa Tooru was a very handsome man. Some might even argue (you) that the word pretty comes to mind when talking about the Argentina National Volleyball Team’s setter.

But a little secret that he had and would rather take to the grave is that he was a very, very ugly baby. At least by his standards. You have a running theory that he only thinks that way because Iwaizumi liked to taunt him about it, especially when they were younger.

“Yes Tooru, although I’ve told you pointless times that you were a very normal looking baby, I do recall looking at photos with your mom.” Reaching a hand out from under the warm blanket, you grab his hand that is closest to you and intertwine your fingers. You swear his pout lessens a little before he continued telling you about his current dilemma.

“Well I was scrolling online and you will not believe what I saw” Sitting up without disconnecting your hands, he sits on the bed, brown eyes now directly across from you. 

“Well she. Posted. The. Photos.”

A beat of silence passed as he just stared at you, straight faced and serious. 

And then you break eye contact by letting out a short laugh, which apparently broke a dam inside you because your free hand came up to cover your mouth as you tried to suppress the fit of giggles you couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Oikawa just continues to stare at you, but now he had a dumbfounded expression on his face, as if he hadn’t just told you the worst possible thing to ever happen to him. Realizing you weren’t gonna stop, Oikawa lets out a long drawn whine, closing the gap in between the two of you and throwing his arms around your body, pressing his face into your neck.

The position caused you to uncover your mouth and now the only sound filling the room was your unfiltered laughs. As much as Oikawa loved listening to the noise, he hugged you tighter hoping you would eventually stop being entertained by his misfortune.

“Why do you hate me, babe. What have I done to deserve this mistreatment?”

As your laughter finally dies down, you reach your arms around and hug him back, rubbing one palm up and down his back as the other hand carded his brown moppy hair through your fingers. Your bedroom was now engulfed by a (rare) moment of peaceful silence as you felt him breathing into your neck.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’d have a knack for always being the most dramatic person in a room” A pause before his response.

“...no” An obvious lie, but you let it slide.

“Alright, what are people saying about your photos though? Can’t be that bad”

Sitting up straight again, his arms were still wrapped around your body so he had to crane his neck to look down at you and you find yourself doing a similar motion to look up at him. If anyone else saw the two of you like this, they might find the positioning comedic.

“It’s terrible. Absolutely horrible. This whole thing is a mess. The entire world is making fun of me as we speak.” 

Rolling your eyes, you reach for your phone on the nightstand and begin searching for his mother’s post which wasn’t hard considering you closely followed her actively due to her weekly recipe post. And just as you presumed, Oikawa’s mom’s most recent post was a picture of some photos from the album the two of you looked at a few days ago.

You could tell they were pictures of Oikawa during his infant years, but only because you were able to see it in person but…. When you closely examined the post, you were astonished that anyone could even tell what the photo was off. Even though mama Oikawa had skills in the kitchen and taking pictures of the foods she makes, the woman wasn’t as skilled when photographing other things.

“Babe, literally no one can tell what this is a picture of. If I didn’t know any better, it just looks like she took a picture of a photograph of a loaf of bread and posted it.” A gasp falls from his lips, causing you to look back up at him.

“Are you saying I look like a loaf of bread? How dare you!” You are practically rendered speechless.

“No! I’m saying that unless people have seen the real thing, there is no way anyone would guess that it’s a photo of you as a baby. And I’m looking at the comment section right now, no one is saying anything about you, most people are asking what it even is.”

“What? I swear people were saying stuff” Snatching your phone, he also begins to scroll before he comes across a comment that read:

that’s the stupidest looking baby I’ve ever seen

Turning the phone to show you, he pointed at the words on the screen, giving you a wide eyed I-told-you-so look. 

“See??” Looking at him, you gave Oikawa a blank stare.

“Tooru, Hajime is that one who commented that” Flipping the screen back around, his eyes quickly scan for the person who typed out the atrocious words and staring right back at him is Iwa-chan’s username, and profile pic of the gym he worked at.

“Oh”

Pondering his existence, Oikawa almost misses the snort you let out if it wasn’t for the explosion of laughter you let out.

Again

♡ hello! thank you for finishing my first work, i hope you enjoyed it. i would love any type of constructive criticism, either in regard of my writing, theme, or anything else

♡ i took a lot of my inspiration from @adoringhaikyuu, especially when creating my theme so i wanted to give them credit, and i completely recommend their work so go check them out

♡ thank you (again) and warmest regards, ms. purple

[rogueshadow1124]

DEADLY SILENT

[BATFAMILY IMAGINE SERIES]

Platonic¡Jason Todd x Batsis!Reader, slight platonic¡Dick Grayson x Batsis!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago to this day Jason died, his younger sister found him at the scene but was too late to be able to stop his death- she ended up blaming herself and vowed to visit his grave...

Word count: roughly 1805

Warning: mature language, mentions weapons/some violence.

The youngest Wayne, strolled through the graveyard that was set a light by the neutral tones that seeped out of the lampposts nearby. Y/N made this a weekly occurrence, she couldnt seem to push away the thought of her older brother not being here anymore, she couldnt come to terms with the fact that he was indeed gone.

She came to a stop at the grave she visited everytime she had a chance to. Jason Todd, a loving brother and son forever in our hearts and never to be forgotten, 1990-2012. Y/N had always admired her older brothers but more so Jason as they were the closest and had a similar persona, when she found out he died a year ago to this day she completely broke and nobody knew for sure if she could be fixed.

"Its been a year Jay, a whole goddamn fucking year." The girl dropped to her knees, reaching towards the ga stone to set a hand upon it. "I'm hurting Jaybird, everything hurts so much and I dont know how to stop the pain. I dont even think its curable, I'm broken, I've become a unrecognizable person." Her head dropped, tears seeped out of her eyes and dripped down the curve of her cheek, trailing down her neck. "Dick said I needed to speak to someone, maybe a therapist but I refused. Bruce- he's given up. Alfred's trying to keep us together but it's not working. We need you- I need you."

A buzzing echoed through the air as her phone started to vibrate in her pocket, she let out a heavy breath while reaching down to grasp it and see that Dick was calling. Her thumb swiped across the screen to accept the call before pulling it up to her ear.

"Y/N/N where are you?" His voice rumbled through the other end of the device, he sounded panicked yet calm at the same time.

"Dont worry Dick I'm not gonna do anything stupid okay I'm just doing a usual weekly round, I need space, I need you all to stop treating like I'm still a child and let me mourn in my own damn way. I can handle myself, maybe it doesnt seem like it but I'm still here arent I?" She let out a sob at the end, her hands shaking as she let out a laboured breath this time, closing her eyes in an attempt to calm herself.

"Y/N can you come back home, theres something really important we need to discuss..."

"What part of 'I need to be alone' dont you understand Richard?" She heard her brother sigh on before the sound of a few things being knocked over and then Bruce scolding someone in a hushed tone. "I'm going now."

"No, wait. Y/N!" She ended the call, placing her phone back in her pocket. Her head tilted back up to look at the grave infront of her, her thoughts ran wild in her head as she tried to figure what she could possibly say next. In reality she was speaking to nobody, there was nothing but silence but she felt a huge amount of relief lift from her when she 'spoke' to Jason.

Her eyes then narrowed in frustration, hands coming up to tug at her hair while more tears blurred her vision and suffocated the soft surface of her face. Small, audiable cries passed her lips in distress and sadness, her body shaking from her crying and the slight chill of the cool midnight air that flew within the atmosphere.

Y/N hated the feeling of loneliness. With Jason being gone that's exactly how she felt, sure she had her other brother but Jason was the one she confided in, he was her protector. He reassured her, he was her shoulder to cry on, he was her rock and without her rock she had nothing to go back to, to lean on when she needed comfort-

She pushed herself up to stand on her feet, looking down at the gravestone before spinning on her heel and speeding down the narrow paths. Her hands came up to pull the hood of her jacket over her head, trailing down to slip into her pockets that were the only source of heat to radiate through her hands to stop them from becoming numb on this cold night.

The cars whizzed passed on the Gotham roads, horns blaring and tires screeching as they sped by.

Y/N only ever came out at night, it was a time where she could set free from her mind- not fully but it was relieving while it lasted. She hated the silence that surrounded her daily, though she all but loved it at the same time. When it was silent she would drown in her own thoughts however if someone broke the silence they would ask the same questions and suggest what could help her.

A hand shout out from her left, hauling her into an alleyway. She yelped at the sudden force, her back cracked slightly when she was slammed into the brick wall behind her making a groan slip from her lips. Her deep blue orbs, that now seemed to be duller than ever peered up at the attacker- dressed in fully back and had a light grey mask covering their face.

"Y/N Wayne." Came a male voice, sounding quite sinister.

"Who's asking." She replied dryly, leaning back into the wall as the male tightens his grip on her shoulders.

"My boss. Your father seems to have upset him and he doesnt take things like that lightly sweetheart." The man pulled a gun from his back pocket, bringing it up to hover over her face, the cool metal sliding it up to the bridge of her nose to rest against her forehead.

"Do it. Kill me." Her words never faltered which surprised the man, her hand raised to grasp the gun and pull it further towards her head, eyes crossing as she peered up at the gun.

"Oh, who would have thought. The Y/N Wayne begging for death." The man teased, tilting his head to the side as dark eyes pierced her own through the holes in the mask.

"I've got nothing left to loose. I'm miserable. Do it, just pull the trigger. Do it!" She pushed forwards as the mans finger went to pull at the trigger, eyes screwing shut as a rush of anticipation ran through her veins as she waited for the quick way out of life. It never came.

Her eyes peeled open to see another person, a metallic looking red helmet hid his whole head, a brown leather jacket along with a black shirt and dark, tight fitted jeans and a pair of matted jet black combat boots. The new comer held the attacker up by his throat as he rithed under his grip, hands clutching onto the gloved hands that wrapped around his neck.

"You're so dead." The red masked vigilante grumbled out in anger, his hands tightened around the other males neck making breathing a hard task to do before the attacker slowly grew limp in his arms and was dropped to the ground.

"Who the hell are you?!" The girl whispered shouted, looking him up and down. Her eyes trailed to the man on the floor who lay unconscious- maybe, possibly dead. She fell back against the wall, hands by her side as she threw her head back and sighed.

"What do you think you were doing Y/N?!"

"How the fuck do you know my name?" She stood back to her full height eyeing the vigilante with a puffy red eyes from when she had been crying not so long ago. She watched as a gloved hand moved up and hooked under the metal helmet, tugging at it so it revealed a face. A very familiar one at that. "No. Please. Oh- no."

"Y/N/N I know this seems weird right now okay, let me explain." Jason spoke, holding his hands out to her as she shook her head repeatedly and whispered a bunch of 'No's' and 'this isn't real'.

"Your dead, yo-your supposed to be dead. I-I saw your body, I didnt make it in time." She sobbed out loudly, looking directly at the 'replica' of her older brother. Her brows furrowed and her lip wobbled as she continued to cry uncontrollably. "A year ago today, we found you dead!"

"I-I was resurrected months ago Y/N, I'm here. I'm real. I promise." Jason stepped forwards slowly, pulling the broken girl into his embrace. The sound of a motorcycle revving sounded in the background making the no longer dead Jason look over his shoulder to see Dick in his nightwing costume.

"Did you find her, please tell me you found her." Dicks voice echoed within the alley, breathing out a breath of relief when jason moved his form to reveal the crying girl. "Oh thank god."

A slap suddenly came to fill the secondary of silence along with a Yelp. One of Jason's hands flung up to cup his burning cheek while his eyes met with Y/N's fiery gaze, her hands set on her hips as she continued to sniffle, tears still venturing down her cheeks.

"Y-your telling me you've been alive for months?!"

"W-well yeah, I-" he tried to respond but was near to immediately cut off by his younger sister raising her hand and waving it around.

"I-I'm miserable. Broken even, for a whole fucking year I was and your telling me you have been alive for a few months. I saw your body Jason, I was the first to find you and I completely broke when I knew I could have done something to prevent your 'death'." Her voice became softer as she relived the memory, images flashed through her mind as she recalled what she had seen when she found him dead.

"Y/N I've told you millions of times it wasnt your fault. Nobody could have stopped it from happening." Dick stepped to stand beside Jason so both of them were infront of her, a small smile etched onto his lips when she rammed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest.

"But what if I could have prevented it Dick?"

"Theres no way you could have sweetheart." Jason stated, running a hand through her messy locks that splayed upon her head wildly.

"I love you Jaybird, so much. I missed you." She turned around and attatched herself to Jason, jumped in his arms which made him laugh as he caught her and she wrapped around him like a koala bear.

"I missed you too, little bird."

[valerie-is-in-the-cupboard]

Out of Darkness - Chapter Seven: Valentino- Alastor x human!fem!reader

Go to: Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | 6.5 (NSFW)

Hi everyone! Just a quick note before we dive into this chapter. I've noticed some of you want to be added to the taglist for this story. While I do keep an eye on the comments, I may not be able to add you immediately. For a more streamlined process, please visit my profile and click on the TAGLIST link in my bio. There, you'll find a Google Form where you can specify which posts you’d like to be tagged in. This will help me manage the taglist more efficiently. Of course, if you prefer, you can still comment on my posts or DM me, and I'll add you that way too. Thanks for your understanding, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Words: ~3400 TW: cursing, blood, violence

Zariah had returned to Hell months ago and, as promised, had been diligently trying to fulfil his end of the deal with Alastor. The dilemma gnawed at him: betray Alastor and align himself with Vox, or stay by Alastor's side? The fear of Alastor’s punishment was overwhelming. The chains that bound him felt like a daily reminder of his precarious situation. Every day, the chains around his neck seemed to tighten, and the nightmares that plagued his sleep made him gasp for air, as though they were a cruel premonition of the torment he might face.

During these months, Zariah attended the Overlords' meetings with a single-minded focus, waiting for a chance to follow Carmilla into her office. Yet, each attempt failed, his resolve crumbling at the last moment. As the days passed, he could feel Alastor’s control tightening around him. The pressure of his impending doom was palpable. The questions swirled in his mind: Why would Alastor choose to live such a mundane life in the human world when he was so powerful here in Hell? Who was the mysterious girl Alastor was protecting? He might never find the answers, and frankly, he hated having to think about Alastor so often. A cold shiver ran down his spine every time he did. But until he got rid of those chains, it felt like a curse.

Today was another meeting, the Overlords still discussing the last Extermination and its losses. As always, Zariah stayed back as the Overlords left the room. The chains were digging deep into his flesh as he built the courage to follow Carmilla to er residence.

He noticed Zestial following her inside and he slipped through the shadows, silently watching them talk about some gun selling business. He walked from shadow to shadow and entered her office, full of old books and tomes. He quickly ran through their titles: Cursed Tomes, Soul Harvesting, Possession and Exorcism... Hell's portals.

He quickly grabbed the book and started flipping through its pages. But then, he heard rapid footsteps approaching the office. His heart raced, realizing that if he were caught now, his fate could be as dire as what Alastor might impose.

The door swung open, and Carmilla entered, quickly followed by Zestial.

"I swear, I just can't understand Odette…" Carmilla suddenly stopped mid-sentence, causing Zestial to raise an eyebrow in confusion at her unexpected silence.

"What happened?"

Carmilla scanned the room, her eyes narrowing.

"I told the girls not to let the windows open!" she said and walked to the open window, looking out of it. "These demons smell like shit..." she said as she closed the window.

Zariah looked down as he heard the window closing, letting out a sigh of relief as Carmilla failed to notice him. He clung tightly to the cornice beneath the window, doing his best to avoid falling.

He quickly jumped and ran to his little office in the V Tower. Adrenaline was pulsing through his veins and his heart was beating so hard he could almost hear it. He did it. He was going to finally not be treated like a dirtbag anymore.

He entered the office, closed the door behind him and started looking through the book. Unbeknownst to him, he was being watched in the past weeks. Valentino leaned against the wall, observing Zariah as he hastily entered his office. A sly smirk formed on his face as he watched him close the door behind him. Something about the assistant's behaviour had caught his attention. He had noticed the shift in him, the sudden eagerness to please and be more helpful than usual. Valentino had a keen eye for noticing when someone was up to something, and Zariah was acting suspiciously.

Valentino lingered for a moment, contemplating his next move. He needed to devise a way to confront Zariah without drawing too much attention.

The Overlord looked around the hallway, making sure no one was watching him. Once satisfied, he approached the office door quietly and placed his ear against it, trying to hear what Zariah was doing inside.

Valentino pressed his ear against the office door, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to catch the murmurs inside. Though he couldn't make out every word, he recognized that Zariah was speaking in Latin. The Overlord waited for a moment, trying to decipher the words, but his patience quickly ran out. He had had enough of being kept in the dark. With a frustrated grunt, Valentino straightened up and barged inside the room.

Zariah looked up at the Overlord, his eyes wide, letting the book fall from his hands.

"Val- Valentino!" he said, his voice shocked and trembling. "I-"

Valentino stepped into the room, the door slamming shut behind him. His gaze fixated on Zariah as soon as he laid eyes on him. His expression was stern, showing no signs of the usual playful or snarky demeanour he usually displayed.

"Cut the nonsense," Valentino said, his voice cold and demanding. "What are you doing in here, Zariah?"

Zariah's voice was weak, words trying so hard to come out but failing miserably. His gaze kept switching between the book and Valentino, trying to find a way to hide it, but it was too late for that.

Valentino followed Zariah's gaze, noticing the fallen book on the floor. His eyes darkened as he made out the title of the book's cover and a smirk formed on his face.

"Trying to do some light reading, eh?" Valentino said in a mocking tone, taking a few steps closer to Zariah. He looked down at the book, then back up at the assistant. "What are you searching for, hm? Some secrets about portals, perhaps?"

Valentino looked through the book and his eyes widened at the discovery. He took down his glasses, softly biting its temple. He looked up at Zariah, his expression still stern, but there was a hint of excitement in his eyes.

"So, you’ve found a way to open a portal?" Valentino asked, a hint of curiosity edging his voice.

"Y-Yes, sir... I-"

"Why?" Valentino asked quickly.

Zariah froze at Valentino’s question. Should he lie or tell the truth? Why would a demon like him be so desperate to venture into the human world? He had barely survived his last encounter there, and without Alastor’s help, he would have died within a week. Perhaps Valentino could offer protection, a chance to escape Alastor's wrath.

"Al- Alastor asked me to…" he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

Valentino's lips curled into a smirk, and a low chuckle escaped him as he heard Zariah's admission. "Alastor, huh?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "From what I know, Alastor is in the human world already... So how exactly did he ask you?"

Valentino looked at Zariah for a moment, studying him closely. He could sense the fear in the assistant's voice, the tremble in his words.

"I- Um... I bumped into a portal... And I met him there... He said to spare my life if I find a way for him to open portals from Hell whenever he wanted..."

Valentino's smirk widened as Zariah explained the situation with Alastor. The Overlord was amused by the predicament the assistant had gotten himself into, but he also saw an opportunity.

"Mhm," Valentino hummed, stepping closer to Zariah, closing the distance between them. "So you made a deal with Alastor, and now you're trying to save your skin, I see... And don't mind me asking, but why exactly didn't you tell Vox this?" Val asked, gripping the assistant by the neck and yanking him out of the ground, making him choke at the loss of air.

"I wanted to, I swear!" Zariah pleaded. "He told me not to tell anyone, but I would have told Vox!" Valentino threw him across the room, slamming him against a bookshelf.

He watched as Zariah hit the bookshelf with a thud, a satisfied smirk on his face. "You wanted to tell Vox," he repeated in disbelief, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You expect me to believe that? You've been acting suspicious for weeks and now you say you wanted to tell Vox?"

The Overlord walked slowly towards Zariah, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He crouched down beside him and grabbed him by the hair, forcing him to look up. "Why should I believe you, huh?"

Zariah choked, feeling Alastor’s chains tighten further, sensing that the deal was on the brink of collapse. But it was too late for any other action; he knew his situation was dire. "He found someone in the human world!" Zariah spat out, struggling to rise. "A human girl! He lives with her! That’s why he needs to return there!"

Valentino froze, his eyes widening in surprise for a moment, but he quickly composed himself, maintaining his stern demeanour. "A human girl? You're serious?" he said, his voice calm, almost too calm.

Valentino stood up straight, his mind racing as he began to process this new information. The Overlord paced around the office, contemplating this latest revelation.

He grabbed the book again and looked through it, an idea popping into his mind, a dark smirk on his face. He couldn't tell the other Overlords these discoveries yet. He had to gather more information... If Alastor cared so much about someone it meant it was a vulnerable spot for him. A spot that The Vees could exploit. But he needed to know more. Zariah was not one to trust right now. He had to see for himself.

The Overlord turned his attention back to Zariah, who was still on the floor, holding the book. He stepped closer to him, towering over the assistant.

"You're going to do something for me now," Valentino said, his voice low and commanding.

"A-Anything, sir!" Zariah said eagerly.

"You see, I have all the ingredients for opening this said-portal... except something..." Valentino said, gripping Zariah's neck.

"What... What is it?" he said nervously.

Valentino chuckled at Zariah's eagerness to please. "Oh, it's nothing too difficult," he said, his grip on the assistant's neck tightening slightly.

"All I need is confirmation," Valentino continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need to know exactly where Alastor is in the human world. I need the exact location of his 'little human girl'. Can you do that for me, Zariah?" he asked and the demon nodded. "And I also need fresh demon blood..." Valentino whispered, quiet enough so Zariah couldn't hear him...

Alastor was making his way back to the apartment, his arms laden with groceries. The cold air bit at his skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth he hoped to bring with the peace offering. The recent disagreements with (y/n) had been eating at him, dragging him back to memories of his parents' bitter arguments. He hated the resemblance, feeling as if he were reenacting a painful script from his past.

Tonight, after a short, contemplative walk, he had decided to return with some of her favourite sweets. He knew the issue wasn’t (y/n); it was his frustration and the unresolved matter with Zariah that had been gnawing at him. The thought of Zariah breaking the contract and possibly revealing secrets to Vox or meeting a grim fate fueled his irritation. Alastor despised how his anger had started seeping into his interactions with (y/n), a pattern he loathed, reminiscent of his father’s behaviour.

As he approached the apartment, an unfamiliar, unsettling odour filled the air, growing stronger as he neared the door. Anxiety gripped him when he noticed the door unlocked. Swinging the door open, Alastor's heart raced. The dim living room was eerily silent.

"(Y/n)?" he shouted.

A loud thump from the bedroom sent a jolt of fear through him. Dropping the groceries, he sprinted towards the source of the noise, his pulse pounding in his ears. The acrid smell intensified, a nauseating mix of smoke and something else he couldn’t quite place.

"(Y/n)?" he called out again, his voice louder this time as he quickly made his way to the bedroom. The smell that had wafted through the door was stronger now, filling his nostrils and making his stomach twist in knots.

He threw open the bedroom door, his blood boiling at the sight before him.

"My, my, Alastor... Quite the life you’ve built here," Valentino drawled, smoke curling from his cigarette, suffusing the room with a red haze.

The room stank of smoke and an overwhelming sense of violation.

"What are you doing here?" Alastor demanded, his voice a dangerous growl as he stepped into the room, his eyes locked on Valentino.

"Oh, just having a bit of fun with your little doll," Valentino replied with a smirk, pulling the cover away from (y/n)'s body. Alastor’s heart sank as he saw her lying motionless on the bed, bloodied and torn, her shallow breathing barely visible. Rage erupted within him, consuming him entirely.

"What have you done to her?" he hissed, advancing menacingly toward Valentino, fists clenched in anger. His demonic form began to show up, his twisted smile and radio dial eyes fixated on the broken figure of (y/n).

"Ah, just some foreplay, don't worry," Valentino said mockingly. "But, oh, Alastor, if you were so horny you should've come to me... I had plenty of whores you could have fun with..."

Alastor’s eyes grew darker, his voice a cold, dangerous whisper. "Do not dare to compare her to your pitiful playthings."

"Ah, she’s quite the catch, isn’t she? She might even outshine my Angel down below," Valentino chuckled, tracing a finger down (y/n)'s face. Rising from the bed, he began to pace, his eyes glinting with malicious curiosity. "Oh, I wonder how many times you fucked her here... Did you fuck her in this form too?" he asked, looking him up and down.

Alastor’s gaze narrowed, his fury barely restrained. He recognized Valentino's attempts to provoke him, but the degrading comments about (y/n) ignited a deeper, uncontrollable rage within him.

"Watch your mouth, Valentino," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You have no idea what you’re dealing with."

"Oh, I see… She didn’t even know." Valentino sneered, yanking (y/n) by her hair to force her to look at Alastor, her eyes wide with terror. "Look who you've been fucking, dear..." He taunted. "You like what you see?"

Alastor's eyes widened as Valentino forced (y/n) to look at him, her wide and fearful eyes meeting his. The sight of her like that, the feeling of helplessness and fear in her gaze, was enough to make him feel sick. His anger and frustration boiled over.

"Let her go," he said, his voice cold and stern. "Now."

Valentino gripped (y/n)’s chin, his face inches from hers as tears streamed down her cheeks. "Maybe I’ll have some fun with her myself, hmm?" he taunted Alastor.

In a flash, dark tendrils erupted from Alastor, seizing Valentino and hurling him out the window. Alastor’s rage consumed him, his form swelling with dark energy, his shadowy tendrils thrashing violently. His eyes glowed a fierce red, and his smile twisted into a grotesque snarl as he closed in on Valentino.

He reached him, stepping on his chest, his foot pressing onto him. Alastor leaned down, his voice low and dangerous. "I will torture you and broadcast your screams for the whole Hell to hear..." he threatened, the static in his voice louder than ever.

Valentino's eyes widened with apprehension as he faced Alastor's overwhelming power.

"Not so brave anymore, Val?" Alastor chuckled, seeing the terrified demon in front of him.

Valentino knew he was at a disadvantage. "I know what you had Zariah do!" Valentino blurted out in desperation.

Alastor’s grin briefly widened, but his gaze remained fixed on Valentino. His foot continued to press down mercilessly.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" he asked, his voice cold and mocking. "What's it to you, Valentino?

"The fucker did it! That's why I'm here!"

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, intrigued. He increased the pressure on Valentino’s chest, forcing him deeper into the ground.

"Zariah broke the contract," he snapped, his voice.

"Because he's fucking dead!" Valentino explained. "He told me you wanted to know how to open portals. The fucker told me everything." Alastor stepped back, allowing Valentino to sit up, his whole body trembling. "Zariah found out how to open the portals... That's how I got here."

Alastor's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise in his gaze.

"If what you're saying is true," he said, his voice steady, "then how? How do I open the damn portal?"

"I'll give you the book if you let me go..." Valentino said, breathing heavily.

Alastor paused, his eyes gleaming. He knew he had Valentino in the palm of his hand now. But he wasn't about to let him go that easily.

"And why should I let you go, Valentino? After what you've done?" his voice was filled with menace.

"You want to see the whore again, yes or no?" Valentino snapped at him but stepped back when Alastor's form towered over him, the shadows writhing and twisting like living beings. His eyes narrowed his smile a mockery of amusement.

"Watch how you speak about her," he growled, his voice dangerously low. Anger burned inside him, his possessive nature taking over.

"Now, the book," Alastor demanded, his eyes never leaving Valentino's face. He wanted nothing more than to rip him apart, but the prospect of the book and learning the secret to opening portals was too tempting.

Valentino took out the book from his coat, gripping on it tightly as he extended his arm.

"You let me go after I give you this" he repeated the terms of the agreement. "Deal?"

Alastor's gaze was coldly calculating, evaluating the risks and rewards of the deal. He yearned to tear Valentino apart for his transgressions against (y/n) and himself. Yet, the book might contain crucial information he needed. He wasn’t ready to trust Valentino entirely. "Not just yet, old friend."

"What now?"

Alastor's smile grew, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "I need to verify the authenticity of this book," he said, "and then I might consider letting you go. Not before."

Valentino rolled his eyes in frustration. "Fine... Just get it over with..."

Alastor’s smile was one of grim satisfaction as he kept his gaze fixed on Valentino. He extended his hand, fingers twitching with anticipation.

"Then it’s a deal."

They shook hands, green flames erupting around them as a chain materialized around Valentino’s neck. "I have matters to attend to," Alastor said, flipping through the book. "We’ll head back to Hell together this week so I can verify these rituals."

Valentino shot him an annoyed look.

"The fuck? I have to stay in this shithole until then?!"

Alastor chuckled darkly, his smile taunting as he regarded Valentino. "Oh, don’t be so bitter, Valentino," he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "I need to ensure the book is genuine. And I wouldn’t want you escaping and revealing our plans, would I?"

Valentino muttered under his breath, "You fucker..."

"Oh, and Valentino..." Alastor said, his form twisted grotesquely with each word. "If I find out you left this world earlier..." he started, his form becoming more and more grotesque with every word. "I will hunt you down in the darkest pits of Hell and make Vox listen to you pleading for mercy for the rest of eternity! Understood?"

Valentino took a cautious step back, realizing compliance was his best option. "Yes…"

"Lovely."

Tags: @sirens-and-moonflowers, @ratsematary, @xalygatorx, @princessvampxx, @lafy-taffy, @mo-0-o

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[petertingle-yipyip]

STRANGER (iii) - KAZ BREKKER

tags: @beekeepingageissome @shadowzena43 @nikfigueiredo @mp-littlebit @starmansirius @hadesnumber1daughter // previously // next

Pairing: Kaz x Davina Rollins (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 6,655

Summary: Davina’s reappearance has Kaz reconsidering just about everything. Meanwhile, Davina seems to be building a strong foundation for her snakes.

“I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, Brekker.” She nodded.

She blended into the crowd seamlessly and Kaz had lost the silhouette of her hood quickly. He hadn’t moved from his spot and the bustling crowd seemed to move around him, the way water rushed around rocks. Too many thoughts were swimming in his head.

Davina Rollins had left her father. There was a strange relief in that confirmation. He’d heard rumors that the beloved daughter had disappeared years ago, but he hadn’t cared to look into it. Davina had always been kind to him and Jordie, but he had no expectations of her turning on her father.

The hooded girl left more questions than answers. Who was she? What was she to Davina? How much did she really know?

Then, as he thought of them both, he realized something. He knew her. Maybe not in any real sense given that he couldn’t think of what her name could be, but he had met her before. Maybe it was years ago, maybe it was just in passing, but damn it all he should know who she was.

As he picked up walking again, he thought of Davina. A certain fondness settled in his chest and he tried to banish it. He hadn’t thought of her often, but when he did, it was always a pain. He remembered an easier time, when he was just a boy. When he had his brother. Davina was someone he thought was gone forever, like Jordie, but now she was somewhere near.

Despite that, he couldn’t imagine what Davina would look like now. It had been years since he’d seen her, and even remembering her as he knew her was harder lately. When he laid to sleep and let his mind wander, inevitably to those memories, her face started to blur. Her voice was muffled. He couldn’t fully remember the way she said his name, the way she laughed. He cursed himself for forgetting that.

He needed to find the girl in the hood again. She held the answers he wanted and he’d do what he needed to get them.

It took a few days but the girl resurfaced. She had visited Nina Zenik, left some sort of token to be delivered, so he asked Inej to retrieve it. The Wraith returned with a handful of papers.

“Drawings?” He flipped through the pages. “She asked Nina to get drawings to me?” It would’ve been a lie if he had said he wasn’t a bit offended.

“I didn’t tell Nina, but they’re rather well-done.” Inej said honestly. “She must be around more than we realize.”

She was right. All the images were perfect. He lingered on the page that had him and his brother. Jordie was the one face he’d never forget, even when he wanted to. Even when the memory changed from his smiling, warm older brother to the cold, bloated, water-logged corpse that brought him back from death.

Kaz dropped the papers on his desk with a sigh.

“Can you find her?” He asked, but he knew the answer.

“The hooded one or the Rollins girl?”

“The Hood may be an interesting investment. The Rollins girl can wait.”

He decided to omit Davina’s name for now. That was one of his many secrets, a tidbit of information that he could keep to himself for a little while longer. There was sentiment there, he knew, but he could ignore it. Call it a tactical advantage. Or simply a spin of Maker’s Wheel. A gamble.

He didn’t need to look to know Inej was gone. He both cursed and thanked her silence, footsteps light as feathers. When he was alone again, he lifted the drawings again and found himself staring at a penciled image of himself, from years ago. A boy lost to the waters. Dead and drowned, resting beside his brother, the Bastard of the Barrel returned to take his place. He had known he hadn’t fully let go of his brother. Part of him knew he never would while the other wished it so.

But looking at that drawing, he was that boy again. Playing with a girl with the biggest eyes he’d ever seen, a smile that was dazzling like sunlight, a voice that was always warm and welcoming. A girl that had made him laugh, played games with him, made up a ridiculous nickname for him.

“I like calling you Kazzle. You can call me Davi, if you’d like. My parents do.”

“I like Vina better.”

“Hmm.” She thought on it and then smiled. “So do I.”

“Damn you, Davina.” He cursed to himself and tossed the paper aside again.

He ran a covered hand over his face, hoping to rid himself of some of the thoughts. It didn’t work.

No, of course it didn’t. Davina had always had those hooks in him. No matter how he shoved the thoughts away, ignored the little things that could remind him of her. She was there, like a ghost, watching but never speaking.

Despite it all, he knew it all would be for nothing. Davina was still a Rollins. She was still Pekka Rollins’ daughter. And if he had his way, to break down everything the man had brick by brick, he just might be able to use Davina to do it. And if he had to, he’d do just that.

So Kaz cast the treacherous, childish adoration aside. He silenced the voice in his head that was calling her name, froze the warmth in his chest at the idea that she still thought of him, ignored the yearn to see her, find her himself and find out if he could be brave enough to confess anything to her. Instead, Dirtyhands would come to see the hard work done.

That was who spoke to the Hood when they brought her to the Slat.

He sat in front of her for a bit while she was unconscious, and she seemed to take an eternity to wake up. In the time between finding her in the alley and setting her up in the chair, Inej gave him what was allegedly a ring from Davina’s childhood. He could only vaguely remember the accessory so he simply put it on a chain and tucked it under his collar. He had stepped to the side and even considered calling for Nina Zenik when she finally came to.

The Hood infuriated him almost instantly. Her tongue was shaped by spite and anger, but if someone were to pay enough attention - the way Kaz did - they’d see she was hiding something. Most bravado was a facade for something, and the Hood was no exception.

Then her taunts began. She mentioned the gloves, as most do. That meant nothing to him. He had heard all the tales and even fabricated some of his own, but the name struck him like a blow.

Kaz Rietveld.

She spat his true name at him as if a threat, and Kaz Brekker was not someone to threaten. He was going to let it go, say something else that would make her cower, but she then mentioned his brother.

His movement was a reaction, a yank of the crow’s beak across her face. Their back and forth continued, nothing Kaz hadn’t expected, until something peculiar caught his ear.

“Your snakes?”

The panic was obvious in those wide eyes, though she covered it quickly. He knew there was something to that slip-up in her persona, the alleged right hand to Davina Rollins, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Yet.

Even in that fleeting moment, her wide eyes seemed familiar to him. He started to wonder…

Another act of arrogance, another movement of the cane. Another dance of words and threats.

“What makes you think you haven’t led us to her already?” Kaz asked. His tone was simple, as if asking about stock prices or an old friend, but the threat was clear.

Her brows furrowed in thought as she dropped her gaze to the floor. She was retracing her steps over the past few days, wondering when she had lost the illusion and exposed everything.

He knew she hadn’t. Inej had followed her for almost a week until the Wraith grew annoyed at the Hood’s purposeful dilly-dallying and returned to the Slat. Yet the possibility was still enough to throw her off balance and Kaz reveled in her desperate attempt to confirm with herself that she hadn’t betrayed her gang.

Again, he found familiarity in the Hood when she spoke again. In that determination to protect and defend what was hers, to challenge those who dared to take it. He knew he had seen it in Davina, when they would play and one of other neighborhood children tried to take her toys or change the rules of their game.

Then the Hood broke free and kicked him in the head before fleeing.

It was months before he crossed paths with the Hood again. In that time, Nina had sent word that she was being visited by the Hood often. Jesper swore he saw a hooded figure in the shadows. Even Wylan was jumpier than usual.

Inej, as always, was the picture of calm. Stillness, simply squaring her shoulders as a dare to the Hood and all of Davina’s snakes. Kaz had never said it aloud, but he was thankful for her quiet presence.

He had gathered a name in that time as well, Melli Dimitrov. She was seen flashing the snake tattoo and a few well timed passings told Kaz that she was highly favored by Davina. It was a gamble, but when Kaz saw the Hood again, he threw the name out.

She denied it, of course. Kaz had expected that much. He wasn’t fully convinced Melli was the Hood, but he knew dangling that knowledge was a powerful taunt. It showed the Hood and Davina that she was not as hidden as she believed. That her snakes weren’t as careful as she needed them to be if she wanted to keep herself hidden.

Then the Hood threw herself into the canals.

Good, let her drown.

The next day, a loudmouth in the Emerald Palace let it slip that Davina would be visiting her father that night. It took a whirlwind of moves, but Kaz gathered Wylan and Jesper to stage the job while Inej kept their path clear.

He was going to get to Davina.

He caught her running from the Emerald Palace, blood dripping off her arm and a mask hiding the bottom half of her face. He snatched her by her wrist and pulled her out of sight. But when he looked at her, truly took her in and studied her, she was the little girl he knew.

After he learned the truth of Jakob Hertzoon, he believed the rest of the family were fake as well. He had thought the girl he knew as Davina was an actress, maybe intended to protect the real Rollins daughter. But with her standing there in front of him, knowing what he knew, he couldn’t deny it. Part of him was glad that there was some truth to those memories.

Her eyes were still the biggest he’d ever seen, though there was a sharpness in her stare now. A tiredness that weighed on her brows. Her cheeks weren’t the round shape he pictured anymore, matured with her time away. He could see the head of the snake peeking out of the open buttons above her dark vest.

She was Davina but also, he came to realize, the Hood.

How he didn’t realize before given those damn moon eyes he didn’t know and he would’ve cursed himself for it had that prickly feeling of dread not settled in his stomach. Well, if Davina hadn’t hated him before, she very likely did now.

“Hello, Davina.” Once he said her name, that boyish part of him that was kicking its way to the forefront was wishing he hadn’t. Her name was his secret and now it was said aloud, but at least they were alone. And he still had her nickname.

Vina. She’s Vina to you and she’s alive. She’s right here.

“Hello, Kaz.” She said in relief and he felt his heart beat a little faster. He knew she was smiling under the mask and the thought to take it off her crossed his mind. He wanted her to say his name like that again and again. Relieved. Grateful.

He would want to hear her say his name in any tone, he decided. Anger, disappointment, cheerfulness, resentment, regret, relief. He wanted the questioning sound of worry for when his luck would run out before he could more. He wanted her to say his name with a laugh, scold his name for a comment too cruel or an action too underhanded. He wanted all of it from her.

He almost said as much until he caught sight of her bloodied shoulder again.

He snapped back to focus. Back to the job at hand.

But of course, Davina saw through it. She threw Jesper at Kaz and ran off.

“I like her.” Jesper coughed with a smile once Davina had disappeared.

“You like women that punch you in the throat?” Kaz shoved his friend off and got to his feet.

“I like the women that don’t avert their eyes from the Bastard of the Barrel.” He snorted. “She’s not afraid of you, Kaz. That’s gotta be worth something..”

“She will be.” Because fear was better than whatever else was stirring in his treacherous heart.

He considered chasing her but he knew she was long gone. He huffed a sigh and motioned for Jesper to follow back to the Slat. He knew Inej was watching from above. He saw her hesitate to follow, but after a moment she was moving with them from the high ground.

Jesper talked the entire way back. About how Pekka Rollins could shoot his daughter, what Davina could’ve said to piss her father off, whether or not Davina was on her father’s side, what to do next time they saw her. He seemed rather giddy for that one. 

Kaz thought of the ring sitting at the end of the chain around his neck. He kept it there since Inej had delivered it to him. It was an unsaid promise that he’d see her again. As the Hood, she had made threats to return for it. The thought nearly made him smile. He pictured the way she’d walk up to him, maybe demand he hand it over. Maybe she’d try to hit him, pull her blade on him, aim a gun at him. He knew he’d give it back when she came for it, but he wouldn’t just hand it over. She had given it to him as a gift after all.

When they got back to the Slat, Inej met Kaz in his office.

“You let her go.” She pointed out. He noted no anger in her voice, just interest.

“I did.” He confirmed. How was he to deny it?

“Why?”

He set his cane aside and pulled his gloves. One was stained with Davina’s blood. “Do you think Davina and her snakes could be useful to us?”

“Do you?”

He raised a brow and gestured expectantly for her to speak.

Reluctantly, she did. “Davina is still a Rollins. We cannot prove she is truly separated from her father just yet. She bought the gambling den he owned.”

“Word is she cut him out.” Kaz countered. “Her lieutenant was quite excited about that bit. And, well, he did shoot her.”

“Taking one piece of Rollins’ holdings isn’t enough.”

Brick by brick. That was how he had planned to take down Pekka Rollins. And that was exactly what Davina had done. One brick.

“No, but it’s a start.”

“What do you know about her?” Inej stepped closer, a new fire sparking her eyes. “Why does it matter if they’re useful? I don’t think she’d truly ally her snakes with anyone.”

He wanted to tell Inej. He wanted to tell her that Davina was the first friend he had in the Barrel. That she and him had something good, something not even her father could corrupt. He wanted to say that Davina haunted him, day in and day out. She was the little voice in his head that kept hold of his humanity and shoving it to the forefront when he needed it. But he didn’t.

How could he?

Snakes and Crows never did get along.

“We have the advantage over Davina.” He said instead. “Our numbers are better but I’d argue her coffers are better padded. And her snakes may not be helpless, though I doubt they have real strength yet.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I’d like you to deliver a message to Davina.”

Her brows raised in question.

“If she wants to keep that gambling den, she’ll be paying a tax to the Dregs.”

“You think putting her under Haskell’s thumb a bit will pacify her?”

“No. Something tells me her father’s downfall would be the only thing for that.” In that, he understood her.

“Then why?”

He gave a small shrug. “Maybe it’ll humble her. It was you who said her pride would be the Hood’s downfall, didn’t you? It’s the same for Davina.”

“How are you so certain, Kaz?”

“She’s yet to prove me wrong.” Briefly, he thought of that night near the canals.

“Is it even midnight?” She practically laughed, just before the bells. “Oh Saints.”

“Let that be a lesson. I’m almost never wrong.”

He shoved the thought away and focused back on Inej. “Tomorrow night, I ask you to deliver a message from the Dregs to meet. We’ll use the square. I doubt after whatever happened in the Emerald Palace she’d be willing to come to us, and I’ll be damned to go to her. Her Hood is too crafty to allow any advantage.”

He thought of how she broke free the night he had her. How she dove into the canals. How she’d even escaped the Wraith.

“She’d never let us in her snakes’ den.” Inej shook her head. “You’ll have to tell Per Haskell.”

“Yes, I’ll deal with the old man.” He waved a hand.

“Could she get to Stadwatch?”

“Even if she could, she won’t. She can’t make that kind of show of force whether she wants to or not.”

“The Hood spoke as if Davina knew you.” Inej pointed out. “Tell me how you know her.”

“I’m not sure I do.” He said lowly, as if admitting those words would hurt him. And maybe they did. Maybe he needed that hurt to stop the infernal swooning at the thought of her. “And I’m not so sure she knows me at all.”

“Then at least tell me you have a plan.”

“My dearest Inej.” He offered her a near smile. “I always have a plan. We won’t be bested by Davina Rollins or her snakes.”

Meanwhile, you were cursing every decision you had made since you were a child.

You had made it to the safe house and managed to get the bullet out. You cleaned and dressed the wound as best you could before burning the blood soaked gloves. You ate some of the hidden rations and rested, a pitiful and restless night of what barely passed as sleep. The next morning, you dressed in some of the spare clothes.

You kept your pants and wore your vest underneath. You had a rough, worker’s shirt that was two sizes too big but it hid your protection so you didn’t mind. You had a long scarf that you draped over your head and pulled over your mouth.

It made you wish you had stashed Komedie Brute costumes as well. You shrugged your good shoulder, just another thing to add to the list.

You managed to make it to your Healer.

“At least you had the good sense to clean it.” She chastised with her accented Kerch, a light knock to the back of your head before her hands went to work.

“Yes, I seem to have all the good sense the Saints gave a rock.” You rolled your eyes, gripping the shawl in your other hand tightly. You thought your fingers would tear through the fabric.

“You should find a Corporalnik to add to your clutch.” She said, an off handed comment that felt more loaded than it should.

“Are you not my ally?”

“And what happens when you can’t make it across East Stave to find me? You bleed out in some alley and your body is added to the Barge. No, girl, you need someone closer to home.”

“There’s someone you’d like me to take in.” You understood. “Are you certain I could trust them?”

“He’s a good boy.” She promised. “He ran from the Little Palace when I did. I don’t want to send him away but he needs his own funds. I can only provide so much for him.”

“I see… He’s a Healer you said?”

“A gifted one. An average Tailor.”

“What of a Heartrender?”

“Poorly, but he could learn if you need him to.” She hesitantly admitted.

“Would he want to?”

“Using an untrained Heartrender may kill someone you didn’t intend to.”

“Yes, well, at this point I may need to.” You mumbled then winced as the wound burned sharply through your arm. “Hopefully he’s gentler than you.”

“Do you want quick or gentle?” She snapped, pinching your underarm.

You hissed slightly but said nothing. When it was done, you felt only soreness. You pulled your usual payment from your boot but she pushed your hand away.

“Take in my boy.” She said and you saw it in her eyes. A mother’s love, aching to protect her child. It made your chest tight.

“Take the money.” You gently insisted. “I’ll meet him. I may even know someone who can help.”

Maybe befriending Nina Zenik would have an advantage.

“Thank you, Snake.” She nodded, accepting your payment.

“Davina.”

“Myranda.” She nodded once again.

“I’ll come back at ten bells tonight. What’s his name?” You drew your cover over your head.

“Kolya.” She gave you a small smile. “But he likes Kol.”

With that, you were gone. You went back to the snakes and some fussed about your return. Some were quick to assume you were dead, but given your choice of interactions, you didn’t blame them. You simply waved them off, promised you were okay, asked one of them to bring you a proper meal, and went to your office.

Melli was the one to bring it to you and you were thankful for that. She made idle conversation about what you missed. The paperwork was submitted and approved, so you were now the official owner. All that was left would be to name it.

“We could call it something clever but snake related.” She offered. “Like the Viper Pit.”

You made a face.

“Serpent’s Den? Snake Nest?”

“Play with the ‘s’.” You suggested. “Like a snake’s hiss.”

“Oh!” She clapped. “Something like Sss…”

“Snakes are symbols of things like healing, protection, intuition. You get any ideas from that?”

“Hmm. Sixth Sense?”

“And one of the ‘s’ can be a money symbol.”

“Yes! See, this is why we need you.”

You smiled slightly.

“How do you feel?” She asked gently.

“Physically, I feel good. Mentally, I’m exhausted, Mel. Brekker was going to snatch me off the streets. My father shot me. The only good thing that has come from this is that I’ve potentially found a Corporalnik for us.”

“A Heartrender?” Her eyes were wide.

“A Healer.” You corrected. “But he could learn.”

“Where’d you find him?”

“His mother has done a few healing sessions for me, says she wants him to have his own money and that way I have someone ‘closer to home’.”

“What’s his name?”

“You can come with me to meet with him tonight and bring him here. Tomorrow, I’m going to try taking him to Nina Zenik.”

“The Dregs’ Heartrender.”

“I’ve been friendly with her and turns out, she was training with the Second Army for Ravka till she got caught up in a Drüskelle raid.”

“And now she’s in Ketterdam? I thought no one escapes the Fjerdan witch hunters.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t ask, but she’ll teach him.”

“And if she just runs off to Dirtyhands and tells him you’ve recruited a Corporalnik?”

“The only thing left for Kaz to do is to actually kill me.” You shook your head.

“Or me.” She mumbled, picking at a loose thread at her cuff.

“What?”

“You said it yourself. He thinks I’m the Hood.” Her eyes wouldn’t leave her sleeve. “What if he kills me thinking it’s her?”

Your chest tightened at the thought. Imagining Melli at Kaz’s mercy, the cruel things he could do just because he thought she was the Hood. But when you thought of the alley, the way he’d looked at you like he saw through you… And then there was the fleeting way he looked at you like you just hung the moon.

“Melli, you have my word.” You promised. “I’ll slice off each and every one of his cursed fingers if he so much as touches you. Okay?”

She let out a shaky breath and when she looked at you, you saw the tears. You felt a pang of guilt in your chest. Was that all you could give her? A true, warranted fear of Kaz ‘Dirtyhands’ Brekker and a flimsy promise of her safety. Her watery eyes served as a reminder that you had a responsibility to her and every person bearing the mark of your snakes. You had to keep them safe. Whatever war you wanted to wage against your father was yours. The want to ally with Kaz was also yours. They wouldn’t pay for your mistakes or your overzealous attempts at either.

You came around your desk and wrapped your arms around your lieutenant. She held onto you tightly, her fingers digging in as if you’d disappear if she let go. You felt her shuddering breaths shake her shoulders, heard her muffled cries against your shoulder. It all just made your promise more firm.

You refused to allow your snakes to suffer for you.

Later that night, you dawned your hood to meet with Kolya. Melli opted to stay behind and you didn’t press, especially when you noticed her hands still shaking. You offered whatever comfort you could before leaving.

He was already waiting when you got to the familiar building, a bag on his shoulders and a small trunk in his hands. He raised his free hand when he saw your figure and you felt the small increase of your pulse.

“Careful, Kolya.” You said, putting your hands up in surrender. “Your mother says that’s dangerous.”

“Da-“ He began but you shushed him quickly, your pulse settling to its usual pace. “The snake?”

You drew your hood back enough for him to see your face. He stared at you with wide eyes and you took a moment to take him in. Brown curls he had styled back, though one stubborn strand fell out on either side of his part. Dark brown eyes that reflected the moonlight. A tall, lean frame with broad shoulders. He was your age, maybe a year older.

That was a boy you could teach to fight. The idea gave you some hope.

“Come with me.” You said finally, turning to leave. He was quick to get to your side. “Tomorrow, you’ll meet with a potential teacher.”

“My mother told me you lead a small gang.” He said, less of an accent than his mother. You wondered if he had lost it or if he just had a better gift for language. “That you tend to get yourself hurt.”

“Both are true.”

“She also said you wish me a Heartrender.”

“A Healer is more than welcome. What do you wish for yourself?” You glanced at him, noting the sharp angle of his jaw. The lines around his mouth as he frowned.

“Somewhere I can do good.” He said finally, determination in his voice. “My mother told me of the Darkling, how he wanted to use Grisha to change Ravka so he could rule. I don’t want that.”

“Joining me means you’ll still fight, Kolya.” You admitted. “I intend to dismantle an empire and make amends with a boogeyman. I don’t intend to take over Kerch or Ketterdam. I don’t even want the Barrel, just to see the alleged King of the Barrel fall.”

“Are you not the princess, then?” He looked over at you carefully, as if worried he said the wrong thing.

“No.” You shook your head. “I was never intended for his throne.”

“So you’ll tear it down?”

“Brick by brick if I have to, but know that I will never ask any of my snakes to do something I wouldn’t be willing to do myself.”

You felt his hand take yours and you stiffened, but your steps didn’t falter.

“I can’t offer much, yet.” You confessed. “A warm bed, hot meals, safety while you sleep, and a means of your own money. It won’t be easy, nor will the money be substantial for now, but I intend to reward those that deserve it.”

“You needn’t convince me.” He said with a small chuckle and a squeeze to your hand. “My mother says you have a good heart, and I trust her judgment. I will fight beside you, heal your crew, train whatever you need. I know what this is. I am here to join your ranks, Snake.”

“And we’re grateful to have you… Tomorrow, we’ll create the contract. For now,” You took your hand from his when you reached the side door to your building. Melli was waiting on the other side, opening it when you knocked. “Melli will show you to your room.”

He nodded to you before Melli ushered him inside.

“He’s cute!” She mouthed with a grin and you nodded with a small smile.

You took a deep breath through your nose and glanced around. The streets were quiet, as it usually was around your building. But sometimes the quiet was eerie, as it was tonight.

The calm before the storm, maybe. Or it was just calm for once, pieces finally falling into place for you. Yet it made you wonder how things might fall apart next.

The next morning, you waited until after breakfast. Kolya seemed to get along easily with the rest of your snakes and that eased some of your worry. The boy was all smiles as he went around, introducing himself to seemingly everyone.

You called both him and Melli into your office when it was time.

“I suppose I should formally introduce myself.” You began, sitting in your chair. Melli stood beside you and Kolya sat across from you. “My name is Davina. This is Melli, my lieutenant. I am also known as the Hood, who met you last night.”

“I’m Kolya.” He nodded. “But I’d prefer Kol.”

You slid the paperwork towards him. “This is your contract with us. In it, it states the usual bits about loyalty and expectations. It explains how our payouts work, promotions, selection for jobs, incentives, etc. I have to recommend you read it on your own because I’m sure to forget something.”

Kol began to read the papers, his finger following along each line.

“We don’t recruit via buying out other deals, so it’s not a contract you earn your way out of.” Melli added. “There’s a renewal date, about 18 months from signing, so you won’t be paying a portion to the snakes.”

“How do you earn profit then?” Kol looked up for a moment before returning to reading.

“Everything we do, from our gambling hall to running jobs, comes into communal funds. Once a week, we payout the snakes and the rest stays in the coffers for whatever we need as a whole.” You explained. “Food, bills, supplies for jobs, business acquisitions.”

“And how do I go about one of those?” He pointed to the tattoo that was showing thanks to your sleeveless shirt, the snake beginning on your shoulder before creeping down and its head resting on your collarbone.

“Four weeks after signing.”

“Like a probationary period.” Melli nodded.

“Well.” He smiled. “I’m convinced. Davina, Melli, it’d be my honor.”

He signed the papers and you passed over his first payment. He took it with a thankful smile and practically skipped out of the room. You told him to ready himself to meet his potential teacher and that seemed to put even more pep in his step if possible.

“He seems nice.” Melli said once the door shut.

You were filing the paper away. “He does seem to be making friends quickly.” You agreed.

“Davina.” She practically sang and there was a teasing tone in her voice.

“Yes, Melli?” You looked up and saw the mischievous smile on her face. “All the Saints.” You sighed and rested a chin on your hand. “What’s that look for?”

“He’s very cute.”

“Is he?” You pretended you hadn’t noticed.

“And he’s nice. Loyal.”

“Seemingly loyal. We don’t know that for sure yet.”

“He signed on with barely any questions.” She deadpanned. “Don’t you see?”

“That we’ve found a great asset?” You shrugged.

Her eyes went wide and she threw her hands around in a frenzy. “No, Davina! Did you see the way he was looking at you?”

“Don’t start that.” You groaned.

“Maybe… If you get to know him…”

“Melli.” You warned.

“I’m just saying! It might help you get over-“

“Do not say it.” You cut in firmly. “There is nothing between Kaz and I.”

Your mind told you that was a blatant lie but you shoved the thought away, even if it were true.

“Then, please Davina, tell me why you’re so obsessed with that cursed alliance! You know he won’t go for it!”

“It’s more than an alliance.”

“Exactly. You’ve developed an infatuation and I don’t blame you. He’s very pretty but Davina, he’s horrid. You’ve heard what they say about him, the things he’s done.”

“Yes, and I’m daughter of the ‘King of the Barrel’. Who’s to say I’m much better than Brekker? Who’s to say my conscience hasn’t withered to something like his?”

“So you find kinship in him?” She scoffed.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does! Your endless fawning is going to get you killed.”

“Enough!” You snapped. “What I hope to gain with Kaz is my personal responsibility. I’ve said that and I will not require you or any of the snakes to partake in it. If I have to leave them in your care for that time being, I will, but I won’t have you pestering me to stop.”

“Pestering.” She repeated and her face fell. “I didn’t realize that’s how you saw me.”

“You don’t understand.” You sighed.

“But you won’t tell me?”

“I can’t… I can’t because the story isn’t only mine to tell.”

She left without another word and you felt the guilt settle in your stomach like a rock. You knew it wasn’t fair to keep that kind of secret from Melli. She was supposed to be your most trusted, yet you kept your biggest motivation a secret. You wondered what Kaz had told Inej or Jesper.

Did they know that he knew you? That you knew his brother? Saints, did they even know he had a brother? Too many questions with no means of an answer. You went back to your room and washed before dressing in something more fitting to wear in Nina’s presence.

You snapped your cloak at your throat, called on Kol, and left your building.

When you arrived at the White Rose, you were led almost immediately to Nina. It seemed coming on a fairly regular schedule had earned you more priority. You liked the feeling of importance as you were led to Nina’s room.

“I come with a gift.” You said as Kol shut the door behind him.

She gasped. “Waffles?”

“Ah, ‘fraid not.” You clicked your tongue, pulling your hood down, and she huffed in disappointment. “But you may be more interested in this, Nina Zenik.”

“I do prefer silks or jewels as my flattery.” She said in thought. She seemed to finally register Kol. “You brought a friend? I’m surprised you have any.”

“Oh hush.” You waved a hand. “I brought you a student.”

“He’s Grisha? Corporalki?”

You stepped aside and motioned for Kol to take over.

“Yes, Miss.” He nodded. “My name is Kol and I am Grisha, from the Little Palace. I am a Healer mainly, but my mother says I can Tailor well and have potential as a Heartrender, if I can find a true teacher.”

She stared at him for a moment before she smiled slightly. “I do vaguely remember you…” She turned to you. “You want me to teach him?”

“I’d appreciate it.” You nodded. “I know you have obligations to the Dregs, so I don’t ask this as a snake.”

“Have you joined her ranks?” Nina asked Kol.

“If she’ll have me.” He nodded.

“Why?”

He looked at you and you could see what Melli meant that morning. Big, soft eyes and a gentle, almost admiring smile. You returned the small smile and nodded in encouragement.

“It was my mother’s idea.” He confessed. “She has worked with her a time or two, and my mother has always been a good judge of character. Never quite trusted the Darkling or his ambitions, but enjoyed the perks of the Little Palace.”

“We all have our vices.” Nina shrugged.

“I enjoy helping people, but I also like a good fight.” His eyes seemed to shine at the prospect. “That’s part of why we left Ravka. Mother said I’d be of too much interest for the Darkling. So it seems the Hood and the snakes can give exactly what I’m looking for.”

“Hmm.” She thought, lounging on her velvet couch. “Oh, alright. You’ve wooed me with those glittering eyes of yours. I’ll teach him.”

You and Kol smiled at her.

“But-“ She pointed at you. “I expect waffles. Or candies. Better yet, both.”

“I will make a note for next time, but for now, I hope this will do.” You laughed and dropped the money on the table. “Thank you, Nina. And you know I have to ask…”

She waved a hand. “I don’t have to tell Brekker anything I don’t want to. Now, leave us.” She shooed you away.

“As you wish.” You pulled your hood up. “I’ll wait for you outside, Kol.”

“Thank you.” He nodded and the excitement shone in his eyes.

You went outside and took a deep breath. The bustling crowds moved around you, some bumping your shoulder. You saw street performers shouting and dancing, magicians and illusionists. You saw kids trying to pick pockets. Some succeeded, some were scolded.

For the first time in a long time, you felt successful.

You had a Healer. You had a teacher for your Healer to expand his talents. You had a new business.

Maybe you could do this. Maybe you did have a chance.

All you needed was to settle up with Kaz.

“Speak of the Devil.” You muttered as you saw the black clad menace making his way over, the crowd parting as he moved through. The tapping of his cane grew closer and you tried to flatten against the wall. You tilted your head down in hopes of him passing you by, but he stopped right in front of you. You cursed silently and lifted your eyes.

“Fancy meeting you here, Da-“ He began.

When you heard the first syllable of your name, you reacted. You gripped his jacket with one hand and clasped your hand over his mouth as you pulled him into the nearest alley.

[1000roughdrafts]

Dean Winchester X Reader Masterlist

Some of my works are 18+, which I'll write as such here, but please heed the warnings on the individual posts as well - All under the cut :)

One Shots xx

Angst

💙 Us - request: Can you do a deanxreader songfic to the song us by Regina spektor

💙Goodbye ~ After Dean takes on the mark, his relationship with Y/N starts to fall through the cracks. She’s had enough of him taking out his stress on her, and after years of silencing her pain, she finally lets him know why  it’s time to say goodbye.

💙How Do I Become Enough ~Reader and Dean right about her doubts, she feels somewhat isolated and annoyed. No cheating, necessarily, but think along the lines of Dolly Parton’s Jolene  

💙Intrusive Thoughts ~Dean was supposed to visit Y/N while she was at work, but when he didn’t show, she got worried. After finally getting ahold of him, she was relieved to know that he was alive. But when another full day passes by without a word, her mind goes into overdrive about what could have happened to him.

💙Voicemails ~ this is a small, angsty thing, and it is 100000% self indulging so please feel free to just ignore it.

💙 Illicit Affairs - Request from anon based on Taylor Swift’s song Illicit Affairs &lt;3

💙  Promise Me This Is Forever -  this is for @allywritesblog and #allyswriting event, and im using the quote "promise me this is forever" :)

Fluff

💙 Phone Calls With Dean ~ just a random thing I wrote for a story that didn’t pan out, no real plot to this.

💙Shooting With Dean ~ Dean takes you out for target practice, but something else is on his mind.

💙Time ~Soulmate AU, Y/N has had the ability to pause and unpause time for likely her whole life, believing she was the only person with such a power. One day, she learns that not only is that not true, but the other person is her soulmate. 

💙 Salted Baseball Bat - Anon Request: "'They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?' you say as you whack the ghost again."

💙 Criminal - DeanxReader request from @rileynicole1967 based on the song Criminal by Britney Spears

💙 Cat-astrophe Written for @spnfanficpond​‘s unfic challenge with the prompt “I may have accidentally sort of adopted 5 cats.”fluff, stern!Dean, 

💙  Baby Winchester 2021 - Reader finds out she's pregnant, and tells Dean in a cute, fluffy way.

💙  Just Another Day - Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Flangst

💙 We're Gonna Get You Through This - reader is triggered back to a horrible memory and explains to Dean why waiting to have sex is best for her. 

💙Currently untitled ~ Request: could you do a deanxreader fic where she goes out on a date (maybe to a bar) for drinks with a guy and towards the end of the night, the guy (you pick the name) starts being rough with her cause he’s drunk and hurts her, then dean finds out somehow and comes over to kick his ass then admits his feelings for her?

💙 A Boring Holy Cross Tattoo - A Fic inspired by Cards Against Supernatural with the cards “Dean has 99 problems but ____ ain’t one.” and “A boring holy cross tattoo”.

💙 Amnesia - Request from @rileynicole1967​ : Deanxreader one shot or series ;) based off the song “amnesia” by 5 seconds of summer but in the readers pov and at the end he comes back for her and it’s all fluffy and cute.

💙 Half a Man - Follow up to the Amnesia request from @rileynicole1967​ - this one takes place the same night as Amnesia, but in Dean’s perspective and based on the song Half a Man.

18 + / Smut One Shots

💙Downtime ~ 18+, smut; After weeks of hunting the same witch, you and Dean decide to take a weekend break, but you didn’t expect what was in store for that weekend.

💙Punishment ~ 18+, smut; After embarrassing Dean at an important dinner, he punishes you with a cold shower.

💙 Size Matters - 18+ Smut DeanxReader request from anon, where reader has a size kink

💙 Poison  -  DeanxReader request from @kaitlaitlaitl​ based on the song Poison by Alice Cooper

Mini Series xx

💙 Movie Monsters Part One | Part Two ~ You’re teamed up with Dean, a man you’ve always found obnoxious, to find out the path of a new monster. Of course, things don’t always go as planned. (Complete)

💙 Never Have I Ever Part One | Part Two  ~ Part Two is pure smut; College!AU - Dean gets jealous of the attention he thinks you’re receiving from Cas during a small party at your house and doesn’t know what to do with it, so he leaves the room to keep drinking. 

💙 Hope is a Dangerous Thing... Part One | Part Two ~ The renowned author of a best-selling crime novel, Y/N Y/L/N, was thrown into a whole new world after her parents were brutally murdered. Their killer never found, Y/N took things into her own hands, meeting the Winchesters in her journey for justice. Even years later, she struggles to let anyone close in fear they’d leave or worse.

💙  i hate u, i love u (1) Slowburn au/Y/N has been in a relationship with Nick for the last 5 years. They’ve had a rough go. There’s been good and bad times, but she finally realizes that the man she thought she loved has been abusing her. Dean offers her a safe haven when she feared she had nothing else. (this may be abandoned, but we will see)

💙Reverse Supernatural  ~ request; “Hi!! I have been tossing an idea around for a bit… What if… Now hear me out… What if the Reader was the experienced hunter and she/he has to save Dean and/or Sam who have never known the supernatural existed…?” (only part one is out right now / ongoing / might also become abandoned)

Series xx

💙Family Secrets ~ 18+ ; Your uncle Bobby, and adoptive father Rufus, had a secret. A secret they never wanted the Winchester’s to find out. They had done a good job of keeping you from crossing their path, but now that they've both passed away there is nothing they can do about the brothers finding out their secret; you. (ongoing BUT I really want to and am seriously considering taking it down to rewrite it - this was the first thing I ever wrote and it's... it shows lol) 2/22/24 A/N: I want to return to this series, but since it was pretty much my first fic ever, I really want to rewrite some of the episodes and make it pace better. I understand that that might not be the best solution, however, so maybe I’ll just add inbetweeners or something. Just know I want to come back to finish it and may change some things along the way 😊

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

---

Chapter Eleven: Contemplation

Now Playing: Salt And The Sea by The Lumineers

Paul and I went to Port Angeles today. Bella was hanging out around Emily’s, and I was still sore with her. Like the first time she showed back up, Paul had taken my keys, grabbed my purse, and snagged me to whisk me away somewhere that would take my mind off my anger with my older sister.

We had seen a movie today. It was some crappy action movie, but it made me laugh.

We got lunch afterwards, sitting in my truck as we ate.

I don’t know why I decided to do it. Maybe it was how he shared about his dad, but I started rambling about Charlie and Renee.

“My parents were high school sweethearts,” I blurted, “They were together all four years. They got married as soon as they were both eighteen, and had my sister soon after.”

I studied my sandwich as I spoke, avoiding looking at anything else.

“The pregnancy was hard on my mom. She had postpartum depression bad, the only thing she could manage to do was feed my sister when she cried.” I recalled the stories Mom had said, her voice light and joking. I had always seen the pain behind her eyes as she remembered.

I continued, “Dad worked long hours at the station to try and cover bills, pay back the hospital, and scrounge up dinner. Mom got better after a while, but she lost some of her spark.”

“They had me about a year later. I think it was to fix the marriage.” I slowly take a sip of my slushie, thinking. I continue on, “Didn’t work, obviously. They lasted three more years before Mom grabbed us and fled Forks for California.”

I look at Paul from the corner of my eye, and he’s already looking at me. I feel like the breath is being punched out of me, his attentive silence making my heart pound.

I take a deep breath, steam-rolling on.

“They divorced. Charlie gave her almost everything she wanted. He still loved her so much. I think he still does,” I admit, “But not as someone loves their spouse. I think it’s more a mourning and appreciation for what they used to be, what they used to have. Mom’s always been a, uh, free spirit. She’s gone through hobbies and boyfriends like I go through clothes day to day. She tires of them, then goes looking for the next one to hold her interest.”

“I—” I cut myself off, organizing my jumbled thoughts for a moment, “My friends have goals in life, milestones they want to achieve. Graduation, university, marriage, kids, grandkids, retirement. It all sounds nice, but marriage never had a solid meaning for me. I saw how easily it could break. Nearly forty-eight percent of marriages end in divorce, according to Bella.”

I was quiet for a long moment before murmuring, “So I maybe that if you have an issue with expression your emotions, I’m sure I have an issue with pessimism.”

He was quiet for a good moment, and I was afraid that maybe I said too much. Then, without a word, he reached out and put his heavy hand on my shoulder. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and leaning my head against his knuckles.

---

Edward bribed Alice into kidnapping my sister for two days so she wouldn’t visit Jacob. I sprayed Jacob’s cologne in her vents and her clothes.

It was a nice enough day, and I had gone for a hike. Jacob, while patrolling, had come by a few times to check on me. Sam had, also, and around noon was when Paul showed up.

His hulking wolf form no longer startled me, and I wordlessly passed him the bacon I had saved from this morning. He huffed, taking it delicately from my hand and sitting down beside me.

“I heard Quil imprinted,” I told him, having heard from Jake. “I’m happy for him, Jake said she’s a girl from his school, too, in the class beside his.”

Paul remained quietly looking out at the scenery with me, but he tilted his head towards me to hear better.

“Though, I’m still confused on the whole imprinting thing,” I admitted, “I asked Emily and Sam, but they didn’t give me a clear answer about it.”

At my words, Paul turned fully to look at me. I stared back, wondering what he was thinking. He huffed, sounding like he was sighing, before nudging me up and back towards the trail.

The two of us walked back to the house for dinner, and I went inside while he went over to the shed to change back. Bella was over, apparently rescued by Jacob, and I looked at her for a long moment before Embry drew me into conversation.

I won’t lie and say I didn’t miss my sister. I did. Desperately. But I was still hurt that she would choose the Cullens over her own family.

Lunch was normal. We had burgers again, since there was a sale on ground beef, and everything felt like it did in February.

I clung to this shred of normalcy, fearful of when it would no longer be an option.

---

My allusion of normalcy was shattered when Bella went right back to Edward as soon as the hunting trip was over. Jacob had stormed back in and told me that she still thought it was none of our business what happened to her, that she was still set on becoming undead.

I didn’t have the energy to cry, or to yell. I didn’t even have the energy to be surprised.

Jacob had stormed back out at my lack of reaction, and I watched him go passively. I sighed.

I slept for most of the day, woken up around noon by a call.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep. I rubbed my eyes, taking a deep breath to try and wake up.

“Y/n, a vampire was at the house. Not Victoria, someone new. I need you to tell the pack that, and—” my sister hurriedly explained, and I woke up quickly with her explanation.

Tipping out of my bed, I ran back towards the living room.

“Sam—” I started, nearly falling over when I scrambled around the corner, “Sam, a new vampire was at my house, Edward smelled it!”

Immediately, Jacob was reaching for my phone. He spoke into it quickly, interrogating my sister and Edward. They decided that I would stay here, still, and that Jacob would go see if he recognized the scent since Carlisle didn’t.

I waited anxiously for a verdict, and Sam started drafting new patrol routines.

Bella sent a text after a while, Possible murderer in Seattle, maybe linked. Let you know more when I do.

“I can’t believe this shit,” I muttered, “Why can’t this nightmare be over yet?”

---

We had a bonfire tonight. Bella was driven over by Edward, and I gave him a long look when I collected her. Emily was with me, grabbing her bags as I held my sister’s hand. The three of us traveled down to the beach, and we set her things down at our blanket.

Bella was sitting on a log across me, Jacob leaning on her knees from his seat on the sand.

He was idly roasting a hotdog, bickering with Paul over it. He relented, though, handing the skewer over to him. He took it, putting it on a bun and reached for condiments.

Embry tried to sneak a bite of it, only to get Paul’s massive hand shoving his face away. In his distraction, I reached around him to pinch off a piece of it, popping it in my mouth as he turned to scowl at me.

I smiled at him, handing him the ketchup. He rolled his eyes, dressing his hotdog and eating it quickly.

When he was finished, he leaned back against the log I was sitting on and told me, “Tell Bella to sit down wind next time, all I smell is Leech.”

I snort, “What does it smell like, anyway?”

He thought for a moment, putting words together, “Like dust, but in an old folk’s home.”

I laugh, overjoyed at the revelation.

I was about to speak again when Billy cleared his throat to begin telling stories.

———

Hey guys! Sorry for the super late update, today was actually hell 🫠 school sucks and I hate it but whatevs I guess

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!! I’ll likely update again over the weekend bc I’ll be traveling tmr 💕

Once again, if yall have any ideas you want me to write, please lmk!! Anyways bye bye pookie 🥰

[naavispider]

Hi, I love all your Spider and Quaritch Fics. Can we get drunk Spider One shot talking about the McCosker?

Somewhere at the back of his brain, Spider knew he was talking bull. He knew he should probably stop, but he just couldn't quite find it in himself to care at this particular moment. "They never liked me," he announced, a slight slur contaminating his words. "And it's fine, I didn't like them either, to be honest." He huffed in amusement, looking towards the group of recoms that had huddled around the fire. He was expecting to see empathetic nods and laughter, but the firelight only illuminated looks of scepticism and, here and there, a smirk.

Zdinarsk replied first. "Sounds like we'd get on," she grumbled. Quaritch cast her a mutinous look, but Zdinarsk didn't see. "It's good to know this is all nothing new to you!"

Spider flipped her off with his left hand, while bringing the oversized beer can up to his lips for another swig. "Eh," he said. "You're not so bad."

At this, Quaritch's eyebrows collapsed into a frown, while the rest of the group shared looks of surprise at this revelation.

"Did I just hear that right?" Walker joked to Fike.

"I never thought I'd see the day!" Wainfleet cheered, raising his arms up as if to praise Eywa. "Budget Tarzan doesn't hate us anymore!"

"Pfft," Spider scoffed. "I wouldn't go that far. You're just nicer than the McCoskers, that's all."

"Jesus, kid," Walker exclaimed.

"The hell do you mean by that?" Quaritch said, leaning closer as a kind of pensiveness shrouded him.

Spider shrugged. He didn't feel like boosting anyone's ego any further than he already had. The buzz from the beer was starting to make him tired, and he wasn't interested in pursuing the topic anymore. He played distractedly with the moss at his feet, shredding it between his fingertips.

A rough boot to his thigh brought him back to the present. "Hey!" Quaritch snapped. "I asked you a question."

"Ow!" Spider bemoaned, but he wasn't really hurt. He lifted the beer can up to his lips again, but Quaritch snatched it away. At the man's glare, Spider realised he'd have to entertain this. "What?!"

"You can't just drop that the other side of the war has treated you better than your own goddamn foster parents and expect me to be cool with that."

Spider stared blankly at Quaritch. This was the first time they'd spoken about Spider's parental situation and it was beginning to sound a lot like the recom was getting protective. "You care, or something?"

If he wasn't buzzed from the alcohol, he wouldn't have missed the awkward silence that blanketed the camp, as each recom sat back on their haunches and watched the Colonel for his reaction.

As it was, it didn't seem like Quaritch knew what to say to this. He seethed, watching Spider intently.

Luckily, Spider didn't notice any of this, and spoke next of his own volition. "Nash is an asshole. They both have their own lives but he used to get so angry the moment I interfered with that, you know?"

"What was he mad at you for, existing?" Zdinarsk asked.

"I guess," Spider shrugged. "They had their own kids after a while and it was just easier for me to look after myself."

"No kidding," Wainfleet said reproachfully, eyeing Spider's matted hair and unkempt loincloth.

"So I started hanging out with Jake. I used to think it was so cool when he visited the shacks. Soon as I was old enough, I was outta there. S'how I met Kiri and Lo'ak."

"Your little forest friends?"

Spider side eyed Quaritch, but nodded.

“They keep out of our way, no harm’ll come to them.”

Perhaps that was Quaritch’s way of trying to reassure Spider he didn’t want to murder his only friends, but it was little comfort to Spider. “Why do they get a free pass? You’re fine with attacking and murdering everyone else but you draw the line at Kiri and Lo’ak? I’m honoured.”

“Ain’t nothing to you with you, kid. We’re not the monsters you think we are.”

Spider scoffed, but Wainfleet chose that moment to pipe up. “Hey, he just said he thinks we’re alright!”

“That is not what I said,” Spider grumbled.

Wainfleet made a disparaging noise. “Hm, I think it is kid, and you’re just in denial already.”

“It is not.” Truthfully, Spider had already forgotten exactly what he’d said - the conversation from the past couple of minutes had already merged into a bit of a fuzzy blur as a new wave of tiredness swept over him. “All I said is that I’d rather be around even your crusty asses than the McCoskers.”

On the other side of the campfire, Wainfleet sobered. He'd been teasing the kid in earnest so far, amusedly listening and winding him up when the situation called for it, but now he hesitated. It didn't sound right at all that Spider would make that confession, least of all surrounded by the very people he should hate. The corporal's eyes drifted from Spider's drunken form over to the Colonel. Quaritch had been watching the boy, but now seemed to be contemplating Spider's words himself. Their eyes locked across the fire. They didn't need words to communicate in that moment. Wainfleet had known Quaritch long enough to tell that Spider's revelations had unnerved him. He was able to hide it well, and Wainfleet knew that nobody else would pick up on it.

"Hey, get over here and let me teach you Rummy," Wainfleet called out to the boy, reaching for his deck of cards as he did so.

Spider groaned and made a face, but that didn't matter. It was the glint of gratitude in the Colonel's eyes that was why he offered.