#and still you survived. so even though your people bite and rage you love them because you did the same. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blueberrypancakesworld · 8 months

Note

Heeey my dear! I love your writing so much and I'm super happy that your requests are open again! *happy dance* so I wanted to request some smut for our lovely tracker Demetri Volturi. Maybe like he being a Dom and after a long day of trials and he needs to get some steam off. As bloody, smuty, darkly and dominate as you like.

Demetri Volturi - Bloody lustfull night

warning : smut, Minors don't interact, some blood play, hunter/prey, biting (bite kink), sub!femreader, dom!male reader, dom/sub undertones, some knife play, comfort, tiny fluff, choking

masterlist

Info : Hey, Hey, Hey my dear @lucansmina here is the request (which I really liked to write because I had free hand), Have fun reading for our sweet, lovely Demetri or the best tracker ever...that just needs some good time with his love. Also I hope he comes as accurate as possible since I only watched the movies and read his wiki article (I'm still in the middle of book one don't come for me). Again have fun reading everyone ;)

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

The night and the day came over Volterra again and again and seemed to slowly blur with each other. The more often the sun rose and the people came out, the more often the moon came and the vampires were activated.

They could see their prey through the thick walls of the castle and were hungry for blood. It was a vicious circle in which the Volturi also spent their time and if it was not driven away with the blood tribute then it was with the killing of other vampires and the execution of their right.

But the humans didn't notice anything about it, they were led into the big room from time to time and enjoyed the inner design until they came to the room with the three thrones.

When the three pairs of red eyes laid on the prey and struck, it was the night and the moon seemed to light up red. Darker and bloodier everything seemed to become.

In the time of death there were the wives and bonds among themselves that helped them survive eternity. It was the understanding of the creatures for each other from their three leaders to the guards. They would all be nothing without each other and without their order.

But even in this blurry cycle of night and day, there was boredom and feelings building up for the vampires. Anger, hate, pressure and also lust. For some it was the desire to kill, the hatred for humans, the rage for other vampires.

Or nothing but the pure sexual desire to simply get the relaxation back into the body. Relaxation that you usually get only when you kill, but just the vampires in Volterra with partners knew other ways.

They knew that they would not stay together with their partners forever if they did not love each other idolatrously. Aro and his wife Sulpicia or Caius and Athendore. They all had a love so ware s also for Demetri and his partner.

Together they were the eyes and ears for all Volterra and for the protection of the Volturi. Demetri, the best tracker, found everyone and his wife, whom he had found only to transform her.

Because in her human existence she already had a sense for recognizing dangers. That's why the old vampire was almost surprised how a human could stay hidden for so long.

But when he turned her, brought her to the Volturis and turned her in front of the leaders on the condition that she was his, her talent was revealed shortly after. He was the scout who could find anyone. His heart felt and saw every attack coming, every bad thought and every action against the Volturi.

A feeling that permeated her and she could also use in battle. Though not imun against Jane or Alec, she held herself against Felix, saw each of his attacks coming and dodged until she got the vampire to the ground.

They were the outermost ring and at the same time the innermost of the Volturi. But in her existence there was more she could develop her skills, even the leaders were sure. But this still had time in the moments there was little tension that could threaten the Volturi.

What does not mean that there was no work. ,,I will be away longer today," she heard the voice of her husband, who put on his black cloak. His red eyes matched the golden chain when she saw it flashing in the mirror.

But just like that she saw his slight twitchiness he seemed irritated almost frustrated which he hid behind his facade of politeness and charm towards her. ,,Don't worry so much if that's what makes you so" she replied and got up from the red velvet sofa. She went over to him and smoothed the fabric of his clothes, feeling him release his tension for a moment.

His finger placed itself under her chin and a short smirk placed itself on his lips. ,,Believe me my thoughts are only with one" he said and gave her a short heartfelt kiss before he detached himself from her.

His red eyes met hers and with a wink he left the room. His heart stayed back but calm instead of tension went through her body. As well as an anticipation, an excited anticipation as soon as her Demetri would come back.

She knew that look, that tension. The vampire had found his prey. The game had begun. The game in which she left the room and walked around, but felt no danger, a hint of it as soon as the vampires were brought in for the execution.

But before she had to intervene, it was gone. Demetri had killed another one, one after the other, and through the few windows she saw that the sun was rising again after hours.

When the light hit her hand she could see the glitter and looked at it for a moment, fascinated and yet disdainful. What good is the sun if I can't feel it? she thought and almost laughed at her philosophical nature. If she did not feel that another execution was being carried out.

Another vampire died at the hands of Demetri. The Volturi who carried out the law. ,,It's really taking longer," she muttered, and continued to stroll through the village, even going into the library, where she sometimes found Marcus.

Her master with whom she left in the silence of eternity, not knowing whether he hated or liked it. But he had not sent her away either, which is why she picked up a book again and began to read. Lost in the words and the hours blurred further and further.

Until she looked up from the book she had finished the last execution seemed to be over and night had fallen again over the world. Her superhuman senses heard his footsteps walking quickly and impatiently to her room. She wrenched open the door and said her name, but she was not there.

She could almost see his upset expression, the lust for the chase showing in his red eyes. ,,I'm not in the mood," she heard his voice as he began to search for her with his power, her inner self, her tone, her certain something.

Putting the book aside she felt the tingling run over her body, felt how she also captured him with her ability. Started to run away from him out of the library further through the building knowing that he was chasing her.

Cracks appeared in the walls and floor as he chased her and she continued to run away from him. She felt her anticipation grow, the thought of what would happen when he caught her.

What he would do. ,,I don't have the patience for this today... Come here" she heard him call and felt his fingers brush against her arm before she ran faster away from him. She disappeared into the shadows of the building and he seemed to lose her. His abilities actually let him track her down, but had he slowed down?

She found herself in front of her room, listening in the darkened corridors that were only sparsely lit - they didn't have to be bright either, they lived in darkness. Slipping into the room and closing the door behind her she felt like a rabbit in a cage.

After the door closed and the room seemed so much smaller all at once. Where are you? she asked herself, no longer feeling him. He stopped chasing her until she suddenly heard footsteps. ,,Finally got you," Demetri said and she felt his hands on her body.

His voice reached her ears and he pressed her against him. ,,The game is over" she murmured and heard the short smirk before his fingers skilfully ran over her clothes. He let go of her and she watched him walk over to the wooden dresser.

She heard the sound of the dagger he took out of the guard. ,,Someone's impatient," she quipped, but in the same breath she felt his fingers tighten around her neck as he lightly choked her from behind. While his lips kissed along her neck, he smelled her blood, felt her excitement. He felt his own desire.

His tasks dragged on too long, he kept tracking her down and simply needed her. ,,Careful with the choice of words," he warned, and she flinched as the tip of the knife ran over her skin, carelessly cutting her clothes, and he squeezed harder than necessary. The knife would not break her skin, however.

He would break her. Despite this, it was anticipation with the knife parrt that she might nestle against him and he continued to squeeze. The first cracks appeared on her neck while he held her in a demanding grip. She knew that if she freed herself he would only treat her harder.

But maybe that was exactly what she wanted. In one swift movement she had released herself from his grip, wanting to put distance between them as his cold hands wrapped around her body again.

She only found herself in her black lace underwear seconds later on the large bed. ,,You're trying really hard today" he stated and the knife landed with a precise throw in the wall above her. Letting her know that he was giving in, that he was surrendering to his senses, to his lust.

She let her own hands wander lightly over her body, her tongue moistening her lips, her red eyes darkening and hungry. Her heart, which had stopped beating, seemed to beat faster, he seemed to hear it. Seemed to smell her arousal and all because he had touched her lightly. She was simply his.

An excited sound left her lips as the clothes came off his body, revealing his even, beautiful skin and resembling his stature. ,,My heart" she murmured and stretched out her arms to him, wanting to finally touch him. Instead, it was pain she felt, pain that made her groan and cling to him.

As he joined her on the bed and bit into her halls. His teeth forcibly penetrated the skin and left a mix of excitement and pain. The poison of the bite seemed to drive her out of her mind. ,,A bite for each of your disrespect" he mumbled, pulling away from her as she tried to kiss him apologetically.

He let her stall and continued with his punishment. Biting again broke through the porcelain like skin and they both knew it would leave scars. Scars from his bites that let the other vampires know she was his. She was his and not even the three leaders would be able to separate them.

But on this particular night, she was left out of his mercy. ,,Ngh-ah Demetri...too harsh" it came over her lips as she felt her skin breaking further and further. But just as much she knew how much he loved to bite no matter if his victims or her.

Marking her and then gently stroking it, she knew it gave her a shiver. ,,I know you will endure" he replied sternly and an excited sigh came over her lips as he soothingly and rewardingly licked the bite on her breast.

His lips soothed the bruised, splintered skin and their gazes met for a moment. Repeated his punishment over and over moved from top to bottom nestled against her thighs.

Saw how she fixed him with her black eyes excited waiting for him to move up to her middle, his excitement itself slowly showed.Instead he kissed his way along her skin biting into the soft flesh smirking at her reaction but his frustration was less with every bite he could make.

A beast calms down when it bites - this was also true for vampires. Leaning back in the bed, letting herself be caught by the soft pillows and blankets, she expected him to come back to her, but instead it was something she sensed.

The sweet irresistible smell that was always in the large space. But now only a million times stronger. Demetri had a large chalice in his hand, the old polished metal seemed to light up and the gemstones on it were all the more beautiful.

But that was not what excited her so much that made her crawl towards him. She sat down on the edge of the bed and clawed her hands at him. He had her completely in the hand but his own eyes also turned black. He lost his hunger and put the goblet to his lips and took a big gulp.

The blood he couldn't swallow immediately ran down his chin and dripped onto his upper body, running along the evenly clean skin. But while he closed his eyes with pleasure and feasted on the great source, his heart practically begged him to pull himself up.

Licked and kissed the blood from his body saw the warning look as she came closer to the cup. As he also drank the rest and the object was then carelessly dropped to the floor the clink echoed in the room before he kissed her greedily.

They both tasted the blood and an excited exhale came over his lips as he probably lost his last restraint on her and the blood. Finishing the kiss, he pushed her back down onto the bed, both of them scrambling to get more space back to the pillows before his fingers loosened the rest of her clothes.

The coldness of her human form that she once had should have given her goosebumps but it didn't instead it was a demanding whimper as his fingers moved over the sensitive spot between her thighs. ,,Finally my love" he mumbled and engaged her in another kiss as he positioned himself properly and they could both smell their mutual lust. Bloody and wild.

She wanted to say his name back, to tell him how much she needed him when a throaty moan instead echoed in the room as Demetri entered her.

Without preparing her, waiting or saying a word but he just seemed to lose himself in the feeling. ,,So good" she heard him murmur and the meaningless sweet words just flowed over his lips as he increased his pace.

He didn't wait for her and his frustration, his pressure probably hadn't subsided yet. Her fingers traced cracks down his back, almost seeming to break through his skin as she threw her head into the soft pillow and wrapped her legs around his waist.

His cold met irhe his gaze the dark eyes met hers the lust in them clearly visible. She pulled him closer to her and wanted to feel more and more of him while he supported one hand on the bed frame and put the other around her neck.

Her little by little again and again the air robbed, gave her the pain as he pressed harder only to increase his speed more and more. ,,I know you can take it," he murmured, and in her head veiled by lust and blood, she didn't realize what he meant at first.

But when the pressure disappeared from her neck, the pain faded away, she opened her eyes slightly and saw the black eyes of the older man.

Before he bit her neck again and let himself go. She stood at his disposal and lustful sounds continued to leave her bloody lips, which only fueled him even more to continue.

His will to force her and to mackieren her because he could and needed it. His bites became firmer and firmer as he bit further along her torso and his fingers found their way to her breasts. The sensitive nipples pinched and her upper body reared up which he pushed back down into the mattress.

His lips wrapped around her slowly hardening nipples, taking away the pain and only intensifying her pleasure before she pulled him back into a kiss just moments later. He hissed as she bit his lip and he only seemed to get greedier.

His pace seemed to increase one last time and his thrusts became more irregular. His heart itself felt that she was getting closer to her climax and her legs were wrapped even tighter around his hips.

Her fingers buried themselves in his brown hair and pulled him to her. The two lost themselves in each other before Demitri buried his teeth in her neck one last time with a groan. She imitated him seconds later and the two broke through the skin deeper than ever before when they came down from their orgasm.

The bed frame cracked and broke slightly on the wall which didn't bother the guard. They were much too busy with each other when their eyes met again. The black gave way and were again soaked with the bloody red.

Demetri slowly withdrew from her, keeping eye contact, and took the dark velvet blanket to lightly cover her body. ,,Wait" was the first word that left his lips as she was about to go to him. She wanted to take him in her arms and just hold him instead he gently put his hand on her cheek.

He turned slightly and for a short moment regret flickered in his eyes. She knew what he had and put her hand on his and carefully moved closer to him.

Mirroring his gesture on his cheek, she smiled softly, ,,Demetri, you didn't hurt me...you couldn't give me anything but your heart," pulling him into a brief gentle kiss before adding, ,,But you already gave me that," and tapping her other hand on his torso. A hint of a smile appeared on his lips and he pulled her closer to him. The two fell back into the blankets.

The night was still long and they both knew no matter what. They had each other and that was all they needed. ,,I love you my precious heart" he mumbled as he played with her fingers tracing the bones underneath before bringing them to his lips.

Kissing the fingers and caressing her she responded with a ,,I love you only more". The two vampires had truly found the true bloody lustful love in their infinity. The great gift in infinity.

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

@smolchubbygoddess , @fadingbatmuffindonkey , @like-a-dream-about-to-bloom , @iloveslasher , @iamvolturi , @kimvolturicullen , @demetrivolturiswife , @demetrivolturixxxxx , @archoniluthradanar , @certaintwilight , @bestbitchsstuff

#twilight saga #twilight #twilight movies #the volturi #demetri volturi #twilight demetri #demetri x reader #twilight demetri x reader #reader is female #afab reader #request

80 notes · View notes

obsidiancreates · 11 months

Text

Icewild (Part 3)

"Hey man. Yer butt flap is down."

"What?!" Taishen reaches back to feel, his golden scales turning bright molten orange as he blushes. "So indecent! Thank you for telling me! Would you like me to check your backside?"

"Nah, if mines down its just a nice fuckin' view." Gideon chuckles deeply and puffs his cigar. "Not to brag or anythin'."

"Well... alright." Taishen peeks anyway, because even if Damien ashamed there are possibly still ghosts down here who might not want to see any bare behinds. Gideon is buttoned up fine, though the overalls are clearly too small for him. Taishen would feel bad for him about that if the man's regular clothes seemed like they fit, but they also seemed a bit small.

Maybe he does that on purpose. Why he would, Taishen doesn't know. It seems very uncomfortable.

"Well, uh, let''s see. I've never really handled plumbing before..."

"Then why the hell'd you offer to check it out?"

"Well, I figured if it's just frozen I could melt it." Taishen produces a gorgeous flame in his palm, a delicate and refined dancing flame that, though it may be the same as what he uses in battle, is more settled in this peaceful context.

"Oh-ho yeah. I can help with that." Gideon grins, his beard sparking and crackling like the beginnings of a wildfire. Taishen's flame is reflected in Gideon's eyes, but the reflection seems wilder, raging, all-consuming.

"Um... well." Taishen holds his hand out in front of him to light their way. "How-how did you unlock your powers, then?"

"Fuckin' born with 'em, man."

"Oh! You didn't have an grand adventures, or... meetings with great beings?"

"I mean... my Pa was a pretty great guy."

"Oh! So you get if from him?"

"Nah, Pa was human."

"... I'm not sure we're getting anywhere with this."

"Well, why're ya askin'? Weren't you born with yours?"

"Not exactly. My niece went missing, and while searching for her I met a great ancient dragon, who awoke the powers within me."

"... Pretty fuckin' cool backstory." Gideon nods. "Hey, quick question. Does your niece bite you?"

"Not since she was a baby, I raised her not to do such things!"

"Wait, you raised her?"

"Well, yes-"

"Geez, man, you outta talk with Gricko later! Couple a single dads, he'd fuckin' love that. Unless you're not single, then maybe it wouldn't be as fun for 'im."

"Well, I am single, but I don't see how that matters."

"Matters 'cause he is too."

"I don't know if we'll really have much to talk about anyway. His... daughter, seems... seem to be a different situation."

"How?"

"Well... she's an owlbear."

"And? All kinds of different fuckin' people in the world, man."

"No, that's not what I meant-"

"Guess I found out why you're single."

"I- well it's mostly because I'm exploring the world and trying not to freeze to death-"

"And how do you keep warm to not freeze to death? Having some fun, if you know what I mean, heh-heh." Gideon elbows Taishen, knocking him into the wall of the waterways by accident. Taishen gives a little shout and rights himself, used to such things from Barnabos but still caught off guards thanks to the current subject matter.

"It's really just not the time or place for that kind of thing!" Taishen gestures around them. "My life recently has been very much a life-or-death situation!"

"And?"

"And-! And so it's just not the time for that sort of thing!"

"... We're on different fuckin' pages, man. I sleep with people in the middle of major situations all the fuckin' time."

"And that's very disturbing to know, please do not tell me these things!" Taishen prays they're close to the opening to the cave. "I spent years raising my niece, and now I'm trying to survive long enough to get back to her!"

"Alright, alright, I get it." They walk in silence for a little while.

"... But just so you know, ladies love the fire tricks." Gideon takes a swig from his flask, swishes it around, tilts his head up, and spits out a fountain of fire! The whole corridor lights up, and Taishen shouts as he ducks out of the way.

"Goodness!"

"Fuckin' cool, right?" Gideon hands the flask over. "Try it, man! Just light it in your mouth and spit it real quick!"

"Spitting it seems a little gross."

"It's fire. Fire can't be dirty."

"Well, that does make sense..."

"Yeah, man!"

"Should you step out of the way? Can you be burned?"

"Eh, barely."

"Alright then..."

Taishen takes a tentative drink.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Queenie sits on Jornir's shoulder. "Why're we watchin' this guy again?"

Torbek, but a few feet away, sits chewing on a rock. Frost uses his mind hand to remove the rock, and Torbek makes a sad noise. Frost gives Torbek a piece of soft wood, which Torbek also begins to gnaw on.

"His state... concerns me."

"Ha, no shit." Skrimm sits nearby, swirling a bottle of brandy. "That guy's life seems fucked, and that's comin' from me." He takes a big drink.

"Skrimm, didn't you say you can do that thing where you look in souls or somethin'?" Queenie sighs, leaning against Jornir's head. "I don't think he's very malicious."

"Oh, look at that! Finally someone asks about my powers!" Skrimm looks at Torbek. "I'll try it, but if I had to bet I'd bet all I'll get is sad."

Skrimm focuses on Torbek and, like how he can summon the Brutal Blade with the mere flick of a wrist, flicks something in his mind or soul to see in Torbek's.

After a moment Skrimm hears, whispered in the back of his mind and drifting to the forefront, the word content.

"He's just relaxing." Skrimm shrugs, leaning back again. "He's content. Guess the guy has some pretty low standards." Skrimm takes another drink of his cheap brandy and a bite of some definitely-gone-off cheese.

Jornir eyes Skrimm, but doesn't say anything.

Queenie hops off of Jornir's back. "Well in that case, I'm gonna go make him feel a little more welcome. Jornir's been glarin' at him all day."

"I am not glaring. I am just... looking."

"You've been glarin', Jornir, ya wear you're heart on your sleeve sometimes."

"... I do?" Jornir looks at Skrimm, who makes an exaggerated face of confusion and shrugs.

Queenie hops away without another word, right up to Torbek. Torbek startles a little when she does.

"Ah! Did Torbek do something wrong?! Torbek is only chewing on what Frost says he can chew on!"

"Why're you chewin' on anythin', honey?"

"Mmmm, Torbek is bored."

"So yer chewin' on rocks?"

"Torbek chews on rocks often."

"Well, how about we find you a game or somethin' instead, how's that sound?"

Torbek lights right up! "Torbek loves games! He helped Mr. Kremy rig them all the time!"

"Torbek!" Kremy hisses.

"He did though, Kremy," Gricko chimes in.

"We're not talkin' about the carnival with folks who didn't work the carnival!"

"Sorry, Mr. Kremy." Torbek shrinks down a bit.

"Hey, don't you be snappin' at him!" Queenie snaps back.

"Excuse you, he's my em- I mean, my friend!"

"Oooooh, Torbek doesn't want more fighting!" Torbek covers his ears. "Torbek wants to play that game, pleaseeee, Torbek will never ask for anything else!"

"Alright, alright." Queenie glares ar Kremy again while she takes Torbek's hand and leads him away. "There's some snow just over there at the edge of the clearin', you ever made a snow angel before?"

"Noooo."

"Well neither have I, but I heard they're real fun so let's try it out."

Queenie and Torbek head off, and Kremy keeps an eye on them until they're out of sight. "Gotta bad feelin' about that, fellas."

"Oh, what's the worst that could happen, Kremy?" Gricko says. "In fact, Hootsie! Why don't we go join them, ah, ah? Alright let's go!" Gricko and Hootsie race off.

"It seems like a bad idea to me as vell."

Kremy and Frost both scream and jump up, Frost's fur standing on end and Kremy's shadow wiggling like a snake in a trap.

"I am Ketrothstein, but ah, you may call me Ket." He nods at them. "And I am also stuck in this vorld vhere I do not belong, as I have heard you are, and I thinkve should vork together to all return to our homes."

#legends of avantris #icebound #once upon a witchlight #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic

39 notes · View notes

naivesilver · 1 year

Note

just had an evil thought but I can't help but wonder what things would be like for either some of the other thousand problems gang (or between Eliana and Blue/Geppetto/August) during the spell of shattered sight? I would love to hear your thoughts about it if you have any on the matter? 👀

You know what your evil thought deserves???? An even eviler reply 😠😠😠😠 you put this ficlet idea in my head and by God now you will suffer with me. In the show I think the fairies were in the hat while the spell went down but hey, this AU has everything happen at once already, so here they probably never went in the first place LMAO

Send me an episode/chapter/scene/ect. and I'll tell you what my OC was doing during it

"Mother," Eliana calls out, a singsong lilt to her voice. "Won't you come out and greet me, Mother?"

There is no answer, but that does not shock her excessively. She knows the nuns haven't fled - she can feel their presence, thrumming at the edge of her perception in the building before her. Either she is being ignored, or all fairies have sealed themselves inside the convent, to avoid adding their magic to the fighting that rages all across Storybrooke.

That's fine. Eliana doubts that they have been fastidious enough in laying down boundaries to keep the likes of her out - usually it's the other way around, her mother haunting her even though she refuses to talk, but it's a strange day, this one. Surely, a little change of pace won't hurt.

No more than the entire town is already hurt, at least. The people would be enough, all their frustration and fury and clashing spirits, but Eliana can feel more than that, deep into the river and out into the forest. There is magic in that place, and it throbs through her veins and up to the tips of her fingers, like the pain from a twitching nerve - her feet are planted at the entrance of the convent, but her mind is in the woods, listening to the birds shriek angrily as they clamor to fight each other.

Perhaps she should have gone to her father, first, but she does not feel the same reproach for him she has for her mother. And besides, August will likely be butting heads with old Geppetto himself - her baby brother is a grown man, now, and all his anger is justified. Part of Eliana wishes she could see the moment it spills out and bowls their Papa down, but she has more important things to do, right now.

Her bare feet patter down the tiled floor that leads to the main doors, impressively quiet compared to the noise still coming from Main Street. Bummer. She'd hoped the Blue Fairy would hear her coming, would feel the same dread Eliana used to feel, when her mother would visit when she was a child. Her teeth call for biting-tearing-drawing blood, but there's nothing wrong about instilling some fear first.

Especially, she thinks, if the fear comes from the woman who ruined her life.

She knocks gingerly, almost mockingly enthusiastic. "Come out, come out, wherever you are. We don't have all day, mommy dearest."

It irks her, to know that this stubbornness is all her father's influence, that this man who traded her for a younger, more pliable child raised her to be unflinching to such a degree. She wants to yell at him, later. She wants to sink her claws right where it hurts him the most, and then seek out Jiminy to ask if his conscience doesn't gnaw at him, knowing he allowed a boy to be sent out to his doom while a girl he'd known since she was a babe was put aside like a broken toy. She wants them to know how much it hurts.

And still, she is grateful. If she weren't this stubborn, perhaps she'd have already given up on this hunt. Instead she is here, and her father's iron will propels her forward, while her mother's blood allows her to call for help to creatures who will listen.

This boon, she'll grant to the Mother Superior: without her, Eliana would have never had this at her disposal. It's how she survived infancy, while she was growing in all the wrong ways and crying until driads came to peer into her crib. It's how she found her brother hiding in his caravan in the woods, selfish, stupid prodigal son that he is. It's how she can reach out and find who will do her bidding, even if she's tainted blood and not all magic from top to foot.

Her mother once told her that those who can sense such things should be careful of what they do with their knowledge. She said forests especially are beasts with many heads, ready to wake up and snap their jaws at whoever dares disturb them.

Eliana has no trouble believing it, now, for when she pushes the convent doors open and strides inside, the forest around Storybrooke rears its ugliest one and roars, dozens upon dozens of beaks and paws and wings and fangs seizing up to journey alongside her.

#ask meme #ouat #au: appalachian wine #oc: eliana #fanfic #I don't even know how much sense this makes but hey.....she angery #lizardthelizard #dynamic: magical house of atreus

4 notes · View notes

cyclonesyndicate · 1 year

Text

Midnight Calliope | Ragnarok | Trial 6.11 | Re Fantasia, Firebug, Elegante

What he could predict was the berating and threats of violence he had gotten at the beginning and from some of the people at this table. What he still can't predict is why people are trying to understand him...why they are trying to save him. Even if they don't give forgiveness, even if it is just their own way of fucking over his game at the final step, he can't understand it. When someone is evil...when someone hurts you...they deserve to have to suffer the consequences of their actions.

All of his life, Dominick had to watch people do whatever they want...free of consequences. If he survives then there is the consequence of guilt but that just isn't enough.

Dominick doesn't get it...how Fantasia just reads him like he's reading a book. Every word that comes from his mouth, spelling out the truth of what Dominick viewed as his pitiful existence. He can't accept that. He can't accept being understood and told his own feelings.

"It's not a factor of what I believe, it is the cold truth of the situation. I have always been a tool, I just decided to be one on my own terms. One that can do something good before he goes away. I am a weapon...and you're right. I don't deserve to live in the world I wanted to create, hell, I don't deserve to even live in the one that exists now. I wanted to do something dramatic...something that would shake the foundation of society...and then I wanted to just disappear...because you're right again. It isn't fair for me to go walking around out there living a normal life after all that has happened. What's just about that?"

He steels himself against Fantasia's words and his expressions, the faltering of his powers that kept up his appearance. Fantasia bounced back but still Dominick noticed.

Dominick bites his cheek and almost feels himself wanting to growl at the cat for his words of life. His own feelings were so overwhelming...how is it that Fantasia just gets it?

He wants just one person to forgive him...

He wants to be able to face the one that he loves.

He wanted to be swayed out of his passion.

He wants to break out of being nothing but a weapon.

He wants...more than anything else now...

Something he dares not say, something he dares not even think.

Dominick focuses back on Fantasia...force him along then. He says nothing more but instead now focuses on Fantasia's question.

"I planned to use it as a final gambit to power myself. As you have all seen from when the meteor went haywire after your death...it has the ability to strengthen our powers. I wanted to use that, channel all of that energy into myself. If I'm honest, I couldn't put much scientific backing into the actual success of it. Delphine's death was a surprise to me, and made me a little fearful that I too would just be swallowed if I tried to use it. That still was a risk that I was willing to take though. If I used all of the energy that you all made, I would've been unstoppable. All that I viewed unjust could be demolished in only minutes...and then all I had to do was turn that power on myself and the meteor. I think...I had also hoped that destroying it would wipe out superpowers as well...There shouldn't be much risk to it now if we just leave it and stop agitating it. It just needs to let its energy dissipate naturally and hopefully it won't be a risk for anyone. I'm sure Tempest over there will do a good job keeping watch over it...as they had before."

He hopes that was a good enough answer for Fantasia on his plots...Firebug and Elegante said their piece and Dominick turns his attention to both of them. He doesn't mean to laugh directly at Firebug but still a laugh leaves his mouth.

"See, now that's what I'm talking about! That's the rage that I can understand! What do you want me to do Firebug? Huh? You want me to try and keep the plan going even when I know there's no way in hell that I could succeed. If I even tried to run out of here and make it back down to the meteor and use it's power, you would all fry me in a second. I know when I'm outmatched and I can accept a loss when it's a fucking loss."

Besides...he has already decided he doesn't want to hurt them anymore anyway. He shoots both Firebug and Elegante the confused head tilt of a dog that heard a strange noise. Ah yes...the ghosts...the revival act and Cherry just bringing him back if he died.

"I actually...had nothing to do with wherever the dead were going and I doubt I'd even be able to be revived since it seemed to be something that I assume was maintained by Cherry and Tempest. It was as surprising to me as it was to you all that you guys were able to manifest in those strange rooms. I could never explain it or find the cause, I thought you would all just drop dead for good. If you want to know more about that, maybe you could ask our good old buddy, Tempest over there."

As for if he could be revived himself...he had examined those portraits drawn by Cherry...how they disappeared along with the revival of the corpses. He isn't sure but perhaps those were all connected which means...that he doesn't think he'd be whisked off to any afterlife she can pull him out of.

When it came to Elegante, he couldn't help but smile, there was still something about that unwavering confidence in being the greatest that he still had to somewhat admire even if it's completely repulsive to him. Wallowing in villainy and enjoying it. At least with Elegante...even if Cylise believes in her...he doesn't see her as much of a threat until...

He takes a single step back at the mention of scritchie-scratchie. He shakes his head and simply states.

"I refuse to let myself be demeaned before my death. If you try to touch my ears, I'll deal with you. myself."

He regrets that Elegante was the one given his secret...how completely embarrassing.

#ch 6 #beowulf

0 notes

pleasantanathema · 3 years

Text

Reiner Braun | Instinctual Invitations

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: ABO Dynamics (Alpha Reiner x Omega Reader), Breeding, Marking, Mating, Knotting, Heats, Ruts, Frenemies to Lovers

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read other fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. This was definitely a labor of love. I’ve fallen back into my appreciation for ABO dynamics, and Reiner just screams “perfect mate” to me. 💜

No one made suppressants stronger than Hange. They never divulged just what was in their special concoction, but all you knew was that it was damn near impossible for someone to discern that you were an Omega.

You’d even fooled that naive, arrogant, hubristic Alpha partner of yours for years. There was a particular disdain you held for Reiner. You could never really name it, but all you knew was that working with the giant man made your instincts sour. He seemed so good on the outside, all prideful charm and heavy pats on the shoulders of his peers, but when the two of you worked cases alone, his charisma always had a bite to it.

Maybe it was because he could tell there was something equally off about his “Beta” partner, maybe it was because he had some pent up rage inside him he only let seep out around you. You didn’t know, you didn’t care. You were patiently waiting for him to be re-assigned to the Behavioral Science Unit like he’d requested last month, but Erwin’s dawdling with the request had you worried he wasn’t about to separate his most successful Scout partners, even if they didn’t get along.

“Is my bow tie straight?”

Reiner asked you to hold his drink while he fiddled with the offending cloth.

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t even look.”

The whiskey from his glass was expensive, sliding down smooth when you took a drink. Rei let out a very frustrated noise, so loud and huffy it had the guests of the award ceremony glancing toward him. The hotel ballroom was crowded, filled with elites from Military Police, Scouts, even the fucking Garrison. There were too many people here to watch you and Reiner stumble over the acceptance speech; there were too many people here to judge that Scouts were being awarded this time around.

“Now your fucking lipstick is all over it.”

“Oh please, it tastes like cherries, you’ll get over it.”

Both of you were nervous, flattered but timid about being given a Meritorious Achievement Award for all your fieldwork done killing and documenting titans around the outer-wilds of the city. Fighting for survival in the trees was less stressful than trying to make a good impression on the brass as you received one of the highest honors.

You took another gulp of his drink before passing it back, trying to stave off the very worrisome nerves twisting in your gut. Sweat was forming at the nape of your neck, staining your palms. You shifted uncomfortably in your heels, feet feeling heavy.

It made you feel some better that the usually proud Alpha next to you was just as worried about giving a speech in front of Dhalis Zachary. The Premier was known for being strict, for demanding that military appearance be of the highest standard in front of donors.

Reiner was still fucking with his tie, angry muscles about to rip the threads of his tuxedo.

“You look fine,” you sighed, toning back the bitterness. You moved away from the balcony railing, wrapping your fingers around the black polyester ribbon and tightening it into sitting straight under his square jaw. But for some reason, you couldn’t let go, nails gripping into the fabric.

“Are you okay? You looked scared to shit,” Reiner plucked your hands off his tie, holding a wrist in each burning hand, “I can do all the talking, you know. You can just stand there and look pretty.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You weren’t. You knew this feeling, it was old and familiar, a churning pain laced with need slowly brewing in your belly, making you sick.

But your suppressants would take care of the issue, surely it was just your nerves that were making those heats you’d forsaken start to claw at you.

You hadn’t gone through a heat cycle in three years. Hange had suggested you take time off once a year to let your body go through it’s natural process, but you’d been so damn busy that you’d neglected to do so. Besides, you never had any issues, just a few flare ups when a particularly good looking Alpha close to their rut got near you.

This time was different, though, you could feel it. This flame wasn’t going to be extinguished once it got started—you’d have to go home after the gala and curl up, stop taking the suppressants in the morning so your heat could come to life in the next few days.

God you dreaded that feeling, cunt always quivering and squeezing around nothing, sweating in a blanket nest that only carried your scent and maybe a lingering, nameless male scent from a one-night stand.

“Hey,” Rei moved his hands to rest on your shoulders, shaking you, “get your shit together. We’ll be awarded in a few hours and then we can go the fuck home. Tired of being around your bitchy ass anyways.”

His hands were too hot. They were sweaty like yours, making you feel dizzy.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

You could feel it. Reiner could smell it.

“What the fuck is wrong with y—”

He dropped the last syllable, golden eyes turning into molten amber the moment your scent hit him full force. You thought he’d take his hands off, that he’d give you some space, but those instincts to protect must have taken over because he was pulling you closer like that would help.

“You’re a Beta, you don’t go into—”

“Omega, Rei. I’m a fucking Omega and I don’t need you telling anyone about it.”

You whispered your confession, eyes going glassy as you looked around the room, saw faces turning in your direction. Most of the old men here were mated, but that didn’t mean the building brew of the heat of an unmarked Omega wouldn’t catch their attention. Your neck throbbed, scent glands betraying you and pumping beneath your skin.

You felt like clawing at Reiner’s chest, digging your fingers into the perfectly pressed designer shirt and burying your face into it to be overwhelmed by Alpha presence. You thought you could stave this off, but the nerves, this proximity to an Alpha...you needed to get the fuck out of here.

“You’re going to have to take the award for-for both of us,” oh now you were stuttering, you were losing it, Reiner’s deeply masculine scent making you feel like a puddle. You hated these instincts, hated how it made you feel weak, hated how he smelled like the most inviting bakery and familiarity and how it made you want to fall to your knees and beg for the aching hole between your legs to be stuffed.

“You can’t get home on your own, do you know how many Alphas would kill for—”

You were pulling away from him, grabbing your purse so you could scrounge for those emergency suppressants to hopefully curtail this heat.

The pills were absent, your resolve fading as you felt like crumpling into the floor and clutching your stomach. You knew people were starting to notice, noses in the air to find out where the overly sweet smell of an Omega was coming from.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Who else knows?” You didn’t like how the rumble of his voice made your skin tingle, made your panties feel too tight, wet.

“Hange, Levi, the higher ups. They know, they saw it on my app-application. Said it would be…” you were starting to lose your train of coherent thoughts.

“...best if no one knew?”

Omegas were scarce. Omegas were weak. But you’d proven yourself in your training, you were too valuable for Commander Erwin to deny your approval into the Scouts.

“Just—just tell people I got sick. That the stupid little shrimp hors d'oeuvres... f-fuck me,” you meant to say something else, something like they fucked with me, but all you could think about was how those strong hands felt on your shoulders and how they would feel so good pawing at your hips as he plowed into you to relieve your stress.

Making a beeline out of the ornate, crowded ballroom, you had to excuse yourself as you bumped into a few backs and sides, stumbling over your feet as the clawing need in your stomach made you lose focus. You just had to get home. Grab a cab. Hope it’s not an Alpha driving, just get home to your nesting pillows and bury your fingers into your—

Reiner was calling your name. If he was your Alpha you’d be stopping in your tracks to listen to his commands, but he wasn’t. He was your terrible, annoying...strong, capable, definitely had a fat cock…

You didn’t know what you were thinking about when he finally caught up to you, pushing you outside the front doors. You wished it was winter, but it was a hot summer night, which just made the heat in your body worse, made your scent heavier, floating on the humidity. And there were people around, lobby boys taking in bags and tired families dragging their feet inside. Still the fresh air felt good, or at least it did, until Reiner invaded it with his scent again.

“I’ll get you home,” he placed his hand on your lower back, palm touching bare, tender skin from the low cut of your dress, and you came undone. You pressed yourself into his thick chest, wrapping your arms around him and fisting them into the back of his shirt. You could hear him grunt at the contact, the two of you never the type of partners to go beyond a pat on the back or a punch to the arm.

“N-not gonna make it home…”

“Fucking shit I always knew there was something different about you.”

He was dragging you back into the hotel, firm hand around your wrist.

“I can’t help how I was born.”

“Yeah but you could have fucking told me.”

You quit your bickering as Reiner paid for a hotel room, you pressed to his side and trying to mask the scent of ripe, ready to fuck Omega underneath simmering Alpha. You snatched the key card on the counter from a very concerned concierge, listening but not really as she explained there were special rates for those in heat.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

People were staring now, the smell of Omega becoming so heavy it even bothered you. Rei tucked his arm around your waist, leading you toward the elevators. There was a sour, thirsty taste in your mouth as you listened to your heels clink upon the marbled floor. The scent of arousal was on him, but it wasn’t his fault, just his biology reacting to yours.

You straightened your shoulders as you saddled up next to him in the elevator, watching the doors slowly close.

“Reiner—”

“Shut up.”

He was on you in an instant, heavy body pressing you into the mirrored wall.

“I should have known,” his voice was low, like he was divulging a secret, “a little Omega under my nose all long.”

You gasped as one of his hands skimmed up your thigh, thumb swirling circles upon your skin.

“D-don’t do this here, I can’t—” you couldn’t take it, you were putty in his hands, already looping a leg around his thigh and fussing with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to feel his skin, needed to drown in the scent of an Alpha.

You were half way through peeling his shirt off his pectorals, that goddamn bowtie still in place, when your throat began to hurt. Reiner actually laughed at you when you paused your hasty undressing, having to cradle the left side of your neck as your scent glands throbbed, begging for teeth to be sunk into the sensitive skin to be marked, claimed.

“Don’t you dare think about m-marking me,” god you wouldn’t be able to stop stuttering until you were stuffed with something, until you were able to chase away the aches before they returned again in a few hours.

“But isn’t that what little Omegas want?” He was toying with you, grin so cocky you felt like sinking your thumbs into his smile and hurting him. His fingers were under your dress, dangerously close to your aching sex. His hand was so hot against your skin, so calloused and strong. You felt like Icarus, like you were flying too close to the sun. The pad of his index finger curled against your panties and you could have sworn you were already burning.

You lifted your lips to catch his, only to have him turn his cheek as the elevator chimed, signaling your arrival to your floor.

You followed in his steps, tracing your dress hem from where his giant palm had touched it, your fingers moving it even higher to try to alleviate the warmth stemming from between your legs. The keycard was heavy in your hand, like it was about to open a door to something wicked.

“I-I can take care of this myself,” your placed your back against the door to your room, “and I’ll pay you back for the fees, just let me—”

“Just let you what? Go fuck yourself in misery for the next five days?”

God he looked so tempting, so big. He towered over you, scents of sex and earth and spice, like black cardamum and the bitter burn of peppers. You wanted to sink your fingers into his blonde hair and pull, pull him down to you, into you.

But you reminded yourself you’d be patiently waiting for him to leave your life. Mating with him could have him sticking around, could have the two of you fucking up and getting attached.

“Y-you have to accept the award,” you were literally slipping into the floor, gut twisting so badly that it felt like you were being ripped apart, your heat bursting into full bloom after his teasing touches. Reiner caught your upper arms to keep you up, making you whimper, and you knew the last thing you wanted was to be alone, even if it meant ruining yourself on Reiner’s cock.

“Your scent has made me harder than I’ve ever been in my fucking life. I paid for the room because I’m staying in it, sweetheart.”

He took the card from your weak fingers and shoved it into the reader, a big, heavy palm pressing against your stomach and pushing you into the open doorway. He kept his fingers on you, twisting his knuckles into the fabric of your dress.

“Rei, don’t—”

“I’m so fucking tired of playing games with you.”

The threads snapped with a twist of his wrist, the delicate front of your dress parting as the heavy hotel door slammed shut. His hands were rough, quick, tearing and pawing at your dress, your bra, and all you could do was moan and kick your heels off to be forgotten on the floor.

He pulled his crisp black jack off his shoulders, tossing it onto a desk chair, trousers and everything underneath following.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You were already on him, pressing your naked chest to his and standing on your toes so you could bury your face into his neck. You couldn’t help but to purr, that soothing musk of Alpha encompassing all your senses. Fingers sunk into his body, your tongue hot against his skin as you laid kitten licks to his throat.

“No wonder I can’t stand you,” Reiner’s hands were gliding down your back, admiring smooth, willing flesh, “why you make me fucking crazy.”

“Please shut up and fuck me.”

His tempting hands found your neck, thumb petting at the sore, pounding spot on your throat. It only made your scent stronger, made you keen and practically fall into him.

“Kiss me first, like you mean it.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

Any fight you had left dissipated when his tongue slipped into your mouth, hands still encased around your neck and keeping you pliant for him to taste. Your nails sunk into his shoulders, toes hurting from strain as you pushed your mouth up into his. God he tasted so good, like the first taste of food after starving, and your body had been starving for years. Unknotted, unmarked, your body was screaming for him, looking for an Alpha to fill you in ways that your measly attempts over the years never could.

Violence was on the tip of his tongue, you could taste it, feel it in the way he started to squeeze the delicate column of your throat. Rut was kicking in, the overwhelming pheromones of Omega making his body respond, ready to knot, ready to devour.

Slick was pouring down your thighs as you kissed him, body overly ready for him. Your stomach was twisting in coils, so painful that it made you gasp and pull away from his kiss, ready to fall into the floor if his hands didn’t keep you on your feet.

“H-hurts, so, so bad,” you whined, trying to focus your breathing.

Reiner started slowly moving you back toward the bed, thumbs now petting at the apples of your cheeks as tears started to form in your lower lashes.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Alpha will take care of you.”

Normally, the thought of Rei referring to himself as Alpha would repulse you, make you gag at how arrogant he was, but in this moment it made you so weak, made you moan as he crawled over your body on the bed. You were so little under him, dwarfed by brawn, small prey begging to be snatched and taken.

His title was on the front of your mouth, ready to fall out, for you to call him what he was to you, but the sliver of sense you had left kept it at bay. You knew calling him Alpha could put you in a heat induced headspace you might not be able to come out of, might have you making lusty, hasty decisions that you’d regret once this god forsaken heat was over.

“Rei-ner,” it was forced, he could tell, the syllables stuck to your tongue.

He nuzzled into your neck, purring as he fell into the intoxication of your scent glands. Hands raked over your body, each touch jolting you like electricity, the webs of nerves under your skin coming alive as he toyed with you. Your legs spread instinctively to make room for his hips, but he kept his weight off of you, propping himself on his elbows.

“So fucking perfect,” he mused, thumb trailing along your swollen lips, smearing the lipstick he’d complained about earlier, “should’ve told me sooner. I would’ve fucked you through every heat.”

His words made you coo, made your fingers weave into his blonde hair and pull him down for another kiss. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, whiskey and fire and something sickenly sweet, like pure honey over powdered sugar. Reiner was still holding back, you could practically feel growls stuck in his chest when your hands eagerly wandered over his plush pectorals.

So big. He’d be such a good protector. Such a good mate.

“Need you, need you, Rei, p-please,” you shifted your hips as you spoke, ready to flip onto your stomach so he could take you from behind. It’s how you got through all the heats you ever had before; face down in pillows, letting some Alpha fuck you senseless like nature intended. But his hands stilled you, pinned you down below him.

“Wanna watch your face as I take what’s mine.”

The tips of your ears felt scorched from his words and the blood in your body flushed under your skin.

His. You wanted to be his, fuck, you wanted your Alpha, needed him, need him to knot you and—

“Take me, f-fuck, I hurt so bad,” you were crying again, the pain in your womb like a knife sawing through flesh, twisting and turning.

“Gonna take such good care of you.”

And you knew he would. That’s the way Reiner was. A protector. A provider. Arrogant to mask the sweetness, prideful to hide the humility.

Big hands cupped your cheeks as his cockhead brushed through your folds, sending your neck flying back as you screamed just from the relief of feeling him spread your overheated slick.

“Gonna fill you to the brim with my cum.”

That broke you. Your last little grip on your sanity was remembering that Hange’s suppressants didn’t mix well with birth control. You hadn’t been on the pill for years, and with how strong this heat was, how repressed your body had felt, you were probably more fertile than you’d ever been.

“Fuck,” your hands found his face, and when he looked at you, you sailed away in the gold currents of his gaze, “breed me.”

His massive cock started to sink into your tight hole, the copious amounts of slick gushing from inside of you making his penetration easier. But even still, he was so engorged with blood and hormones ready to knot that his fat cock struggled to breach that first tight ring of muscle. You hissed, not from pain, but from relief, so ready to be full that no amount of stretching would detract from your pleasure.

Heavy hands were on your hips, pulling you down to take all of him in. He was finally growling, your walls constricting around him and making him go absolutely mad.

“Gonna breed you, Omega, give you my babies, f-fuck yes, have you dripping with cum.”

The blinding pleasure was almost devastating, making you feel numb, making you feel like this was all you ever needed in the whole goddamn world—all you needed was Reiner’s cock to bring you rapture, to have you ascending to the holy planes that zealots coveted.

“Move,” it was a quick plea, your legs curling around his waist in encouragement, “please, please fuck me, breed me.”

He started a slow pace, but was enough to have you spiraling, eyes fluttering shut as you got lost in him. One of his hands swatted at your cheek, just enough to sting.

“Eyes open. Watch me, be with me.”

You tried your best to obey, but the drumming of his cock in your cunt had you seeing dark spots even as your eyes opened again. Reiner kept his hand on your face, locking it around your jaw so you watched him as he fucked you, his beautiful, defined cheekbones tinted pink as he became overwhelmed with his rut.

How many times had you looked at him before? How many days had you spent working alongside him, doing your best to avoid looking at him? He got under your skin, made you feel weak. Maybe this was why, maybe you were repressing just how much you wanted him. Maybe he was meant to be your—

“Alpha,” you breathed it out, let it fan over his ears, let it sink into his psyche.

The word felt like a relief, like a sin. That attachment you feared was already caging you in.

His pace kicked up to something brutal as you acknowledged not just his biology, but his title to you.

You screamed so loudly that it hurt, had your throat burning as your moans bled into whines and mewls as he took from your willing cunt.

A cacophony of sex filled the hotel room, the sound of primal grunts, shrill little screams, of flesh against flesh, balls slapping against your ass, his cock ramming into your squelching, drooling pussy.

“That’s right, fuck, you’re mine, Omega. Mine.” He repeated the last word a few more times as he bent your legs farther back, straddling your thighs with his muscular legs as he folded you into a mating press. His cock began to stroke that sweet, spongy spot inside of you at the new angle, drilling into you at just the right curve to have you cumming before your body could even enjoy the build up.

You shattered, cunt clenching and as you were so pleased to orgasm around a thick Alpha cock. You were babbling nonsense, even thanking him for letting you cum. Just a string of pleas and AlphaAlphaAlpha pouring off your tongue and melting into his sweaty skin.

Your orgasm had your scent fresh in the room, had your neck fucking pounding with the need to be bitten, to be claimed.

Reiner could smell it, could smell your insatiable need, instincts picking up on words you just couldn’t say.

“Let me have you,” he demanded it between kisses to your shoulder, lips trailing up and stopping at the saccharine reek of your scent glands just below your jaw.

He wouldn’t claim you without permission, he wasn’t that kind of man, wasn’t that kind of Alpha.

You fell into a symphony of moans, neck tilting back in instinctual insinuation, but mouth still unwilling to make that plea. But then his scent overwhelmed you again, like spicy hot peppers and the sweetest sugar flooding over your body. You knew that scent by heart, had smelled it in smaller increments every day for years, had tried to ignore it, but now you couldn’t.

His cock was swelling inside of you, his ruthless pace and your lingering orgasm edging him closer to release. The hand on your hip had bruised your skin, perfect indent of his palm, his long fingers, etched into your skin. The other was pulling at your neck, pushing your face to the side as he skimmed the bridge of nose along your skin, waiting, wanting.

“Omega,” he purred, calling you, begging you, “please, yours, mine.”

He was losing his thoughts too, drowning in instincts and euphoria.

Your fingers laced in his hair, pulling his mouth closer to what he wanted.

“Yours, Alpha, f-fuck,” your acceptance was loud and clear, even through the fog and sounds of sex. One bite was all it took, teeth barely sinking into your skin. You cried from how good it felt, that ache finally silenced as his tongue lapped over that patch on your neck that could now only belong to him.

A bond was tightening, something scientists still couldn’t fully explain—being marked, claimed, it tethered you to someone beyond all comprehension. It was like making a deal with a devil, selling your soul, and for you, it was an admittance to attraction and acceptance of intimacy that you felt with Reiner.

The act of marking had his cock swelling inside you, knotting you and spilling his seed into your depths to stay. That overbearing fullness had you tumbling over the orgasmic mountain again, had you clinging and screaming, colors you’d never fucking seen before bursting in the corners of your eyes and traveling over your body like fireworks. You shivered in his arms, quaked, fell apart, and he held you. Purring, comforting, like he’d finally brought you home.

Time didn’t seem to exist, lines between pleasure and pain so blurred that you couldn’t even feel the burn in your legs from being spread open for so long. You stayed in that mating press for what felt like hours. Reiner kept kissing at your neck, letting his scent blend in with yours.

You’d never smell the same again. You’d always be tainted with him, carry bits of his scent with you forever. The thought didn’t even bother you, just brought you comfort, made you purr as your fingers lazily threaded through his hair.

Finally, his cock became soft enough for him to pull out of you, lines of cum dripping from your abused pussy as he fell on his back next to you.

The love hormones kicked in, had you curling around him even as you stretched out weary muscles. You were ready to sleep, ready to rest until the next wave of your heat came in a few hours and had you pleading for him again.

But a pesky thought plagued your mind, a jealous one, one you’d never had about another Alpha before.

How many other Omegas had wanted what was yours? How many of them had Reiner denied a claim to before you?

“Why me?” you murmured into his heaving chest, fingertips drawing aimless circles in his downy chest hair.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

You sat up to look at him, to let him cup your cheek as his eyes flickered over your face.

“How many Alphas have wanted you?”

There was solace in knowing he had the same questions.

“Haven’t had a heat since I met you.”

Concern flashed across his face, that intensity you were used to seeing in his brow coming to life.

“You won’t do that again.”

His command made you feel warm, had your belly already pulling and churning and wanting again.

“I won’t. Because even though you’re a shitty partner, you’re my mate.”

That realization swept over him hard and fast, a range of emotions painting his features before he settled on a smile.

His thumb petted your skin, bringing you in for a kiss.

“You’re the only award I needed tonight.”

#reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #abo #reiner smut #aot #snk #snk reiner #aot reiner #attack on titan #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #reiner x you #reiner braun x you

2K notes · View notes

cherryblossom-chopper · 3 years

Note

How do you think Ace and Sabo would react to their female S/O sacrificing their life for them? Like headcanons or a scenario. Tysm for your time💜

It is time for pain :)

Ace

-Anger is the first emotion he feels. It masks the sadness and overwhelming sick feeling in his stomach. Ace can't do anything but sit and feel rage. So much so that steam is coming off his skin.

-He blames everyone in the world for his loss, including his partner. He's angry at them for leaving him by pushing him out of the way, for risking everything for his worthless ass. Ace is mad at his partner because he knew he could've survived the attack; he would've been fine after a few days, but no. They had to jam their shoulder into his back, knocking him to his knees.

-Ace is angry at himself because the bastard son of Rodger didn't deserve saving, certainly not by an angel in human form. He should've been watching his partner's back instead of competing with Marco. It was a real fight, not a game, and he was treating it like it was.

-Ace will bite and bark at everyone around him. He becomes literally untouchable, his skin burning anyone who tries. Ace becomes increasingly hostile to his crewmates and even more aggressive towards his enemies. Ace didn't like hurting people, but now he had nothing to lose, so what was the point?

-It takes a lengthy discussion with Whitebeard to finally cool off his steam. Whitebeard sits with Ace and shares stories of those he's lost. Pops gives Ace a comforting pat on the back, telling him that his heart will be scared and some days will be better than others. Whitebeard loved (Name) too, but knows their efforts were not in vain unless Ace wastes his life in anger.

-Whitebeards words get to Ace. They sit heavy in his heart, and he finally gives in to his grief. Ace sinks to his knees and cries in front of his captain. He lets every bit of himself out, slamming the wooden floors with his fists, wailing, and begging any Gods listening to bring his Sunshine back to him.

-Whitebeard can only mournfully watch his son unravel, but Newgate has lived a long life and knows that this is the first step to healing.

Sabo

-Sabo feels an overwhelming amount of guilt and numbness. How could he let this happen? Late night promises where not just broken but shattered.

-After the loss of his partner he spends a lot of his time staring at nothing. He’s completely lost into his memories. Sabo tries to to remember everything about his partner. Their face, the feeling of their hand in his, and the sound of their laugh.

-Koala does what she can to ease his grief but she lost a friend too. She grieves quietly at his side. Sabo is grateful for Koala’s company, but it doesn’t do much to ease the queasiness in his stomach.

-Sabo tries to pour himself into his work. Dragon had allowed him some time off and paper work stacked up. Going back to his work is futile though. He sits and stares and thinks about nothing but the day he lossed (Name).

-What else is he suppose to do? He was suppose to protect them, they where his partner, his best friend and he let them slip from his fingers.

-When his work begins slipping, Dragon and Ivankoff try to get involved, but they’re met with anger. Sabo finally rages. Everything comes pouring at when Dragon offers his sympathies. Sabo blames Dragon for (Name) being on that battlefield. Dragon knew they weren’t ready and he still sent them.

-During his meltdown, Sabo finally says it; It’s not my fault. And in that moment, everything slows down. He’s suddenly so tired.

-He sinks to his knees, his legs can no longer support him. Fighting gravity is too hard. With salty tears on his face, he looks to Ivankoff for help or guidance.

-Ivankoff can only offer a few wise words and a shoulder to cry on. Later, behind closed doors Ivankoff will asks Dragon to send Sabo home. The boy needs his family, Ivankoff insists; yet Dragon will refuse.

-Though, it doesn’t matter to Sabo. The suffocating guilt begins to ease and his memories are tinted rose colored. Small smiles come his face and a bit of light returns to his eyes. The progress is slow, and he misses (Name) more than anything but there’s no longer pain.

#cherryblossom chopper #one piece #angst #ace #sabo #portgas d ace #ace angst #sabo angst #ace x reader #sabo x reader

159 notes · View notes

patchofsunlight · 4 years

Text

i’m reposting bc it’s not showing up in the tags and I’m mad about it lmao!! hope you like it!!

check out my 800 followers event!

warnings: cursing because uh. this is bakugou katsuki. and this is so long. i put so much more effort into this than into any of the others i can’t do anything if i’m in love with him i’m sorry

Katsuki definitely did not think he would fall in love with an extra like you. In fact, he did not think he would fall in love at all.

Yet he did. Like an idiot.

You were friends with fucking Deku, of course, and almost as annoying as him. He always saw you around with him and the Half-and-Half Bastard and he promised himself he would never give you more than a glare because you simply did not deserve to be in his thoughts, and he succeeded at that

at first.

You decided to live rent-free in his mind after the Sports Festival. That was the first time he actually payed attention to you and it was safe to say he was slightly impressed

He was sure you would’ve ended up on the final battles if you hadn’t had to fight Icyhot before you got there

even then, you gave the idiot a run for his money and Katsuki was surprised with how long you held your own, getting a bunch of good hits and losing only because Todoroki was, well, Todoroki.

He respected you a bit after that

but he did not respect the way you were always plaguing his thoughts and dreams like a fucking virus of sorts

It was irritating as fuck and he wanted to kill someone over it.

Whenever he saw you his heart sped up to ten miles per minute and it made him see red with anger. He wasn’t sure what made you so important, anyway. Yes, you were powerful and somewhat pretty but still an idiot and Deku’s friend so how good could you actually be? Certainly not much

Still, there he was, thinking about you like a fucking stupid dumbass

He hated it, despised it, it made his blood boil. This was probably caused by some secondary quirk bullshit you had that no one knew about and he was tired of losing his damn time over it.

And you were always talking to him. For some god awful reason your seat was close to his and so you would ask about his day and about what he had for lunch and about his studies and a bunch of ridiculous shit he didn’t give a fuck about

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N, I don’t wanna talk to a fucking extra like you.”

“Why so grumpy, Explosion Boy?”

“I’LL KILL YOU”

he obviously didn’t.

It was weirdly comforting to have someone interested in his life, if he was honest about it.

But not much. It’s not like he liked you or appreciated you in anyway, of course not. That would be absolute bullshit and he was not willing to deal with it.

Getting kidnapped by the League of Villains was one of the worst things to ever happen to him.

Even though he fought his way through survival and didn’t get hurt or anything, it was still pretty terrible and, well, with everything that happened with All Might later... It’s safe to say it didn’t leave him feeling exactly good about himself

Besides, damn Deku was the one to help him escape and it pissed him off.

Specially because you were there too and how much of an idiot did you have to be to get caught up in something like that?

Did you want to die or something? Fucking extra. It made him so mad.

And worried, too, because what if you had gotten hurt? What if something bad had happened and he couldn’t help? Not that he cared, of course, but the thought of you being anything but healthy and fine made his heart jump uncomfortably in his chest and he didn’t like it one bit.

After that, you suddenly decided you wanted to be his friend or some bullshit, and it was the most annoying thing he had ever had to go through.

Talking to him randomly during class wasn’t fucking enough for you? Did you really have to walk with him to the dorms and invite him to have lunch with you? God, you were really insufferable.

But he found himself appreciating your company, sometimes. It was nice to have someone by his side like that, even if he couldn’t stand you

And maybe the fluttering of his heart whenever you smiled wasn’t all that bad.

You suddenly became a part of the Bakusquad after inviting him to have lunch with you multiple times and being rejected all of them until Mina started inviting YOU to have lunch with THEM instead and he wasn’t sure how to react to it

Kaminari was always fucking babbling with you about something and it got on his nerves

It was still better than seeing you running around with fucking Deku though. Deku did not deserve your friendship.

Sometimes, when you are too invested in conversation with someone else during lunch, he can’t help but steal glances at you and bite back a smile.

You’re cute when you’re excited.

He slowly stops complaining about you walking him to his dorm

You keep playfully saying you do it in case someone tries to kidnap him on the way and he screams at you for it everytime, but something tells you he goes easy on you for some reason.

There’s this one time when you call Kirishima “cheap ass red rock candy”

You’re only joking around and Kirishima knows this, so he only rolls his eyes and lightly punches your shoulder

but, for the first time ever, Katsuki laughs. He tries to hold it back like he does with every smile you bring to his lips, but he can’t, and the way your eyes sparkle at the sound sends his stomach in a frenzy

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh before,” you tell him quietly while you walk towards the dorms later that day, curiously avoiding his glare as you blush. He furrows his brows. It’s not like you to do that, but his heart does sommersaults in his chest at your bashfulness and he hates it.

“So fucking what?” his voice is aggressive, but there’s a hint of warmth rising to his face.

“It’s a nice sound,” you smile ever so softly and he stops breathing for a moment, “you should laugh more.”

“Whatever,” he mutters, hiding away his own red cheeks from your questioning eyes and walking a bit faster.

After that, he tries less to bite back his laughter. It’s almost subconscious and no one comments on it, but Kaminari, Kirishima, Mina, and Sero exchange knowing looks while you excitedly tell him about the last movie you watched and he grunts in acknowledgement, his full attention on you even as he avoids your eyes and stares at his lunch.

There’s this one time when you go to his room because you can’t sleep and it makes him so angry because he was already absolutely knocked out

yet he can see how much you’re fidgeting and something about the fact you came to him of all people causes his stomach to flutter, so he lets you in and listens while you tell him you’ve been having nightmares lately.

That’s the first time you ever sleep in his room, but neither of you acknowledge the way you’re holding each other when you wake up

It becomes kind of a tradition for you to go see him when you can’t sleep. He always complains about it and tells you to grow the fuck up, but lets you in anyway.

He likes to hold you while you sleep. It calms down his erratic heart and it’s nice, he figures. It’s nice to have someone to wait for, specially if that someone is you.

Katsuki tries not to think too much about what the feelings he gets when he’s next to you mean. After all, you’re still some annoying extra he couldn’t care less about, right?

Right?

It happens one cold night in the dorms’s common room.

You are just hanging out with him and the Bakusquad, watching some movie about something Katsuki doesn’t care about. He’s just looking through his social medias and ignoring all conversation going around him

You’re seated on the other couch, next to Sero, and he knows there’s a spot just on your other side, and a part of him longs to occupy it and be next to you, but he knows that’s stupid, so he stays put, even when you suddenly glance at him and smile when you notice how his eyes were already on you

He rolls his eyes and scowls, feeling his face heat up, but keeps quiet.

Then fucking Deku comes around and sits beside you. He’s obviously upset about something and Katsuki wants to kick his ass for simply being in close proximity to you

Yes, he knows you’re his friend too, but still. Deku can get fucked.

Deciding just being next to you isn’t enough, Izuku leans his head on your shoulder.

Katsuki sees fucking red. He’s ready to get up and punch his nose, but that was before you lifted your hand to play with the boy’s green hair, quietly asking him if everything was alright before you engaged in a whisper-filled conversation.

If looks could kill, Deku would’ve been dead in a second.

Kirishima is the first to notice how absolutely rageful he is.

“Hey, Bakubro, are you okay?”

“Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair.”

He follows Katsuki’s glare and widens his eyes at the sight of you and Midoriya, smirking.

“Are you worried, Bakubro? Don’t worry, they’re just friends! She only has eyes for you!”

“I’m pretty sure I told you to shut up, didn’t I?”

“Come on, Bakubro! Your crush is definitely not in love with Midoriya, okay?”

“I don’t have a fucking crush, Shitty Hair!”

all eyes turn to his fuming figure after he screams. Izuku takes his head away from your shoulder, brows furrowing in confusion. You stare at Katsuki with concern, silently asking yourself what could have brought him to this outburst.

He groans in anger before standing up and leaving the room, unable to stay around you and fucking Deku any longer.

Mina sends you a look and you’re on your feet, telling Izuku you would be right back and running after the angry blond.

He was sitting on the stairs just outside the dorms, trying to control his own fury. You sit next to him and he scowls.

“What happened back there, Katsuki?” you question softly and his first name on your lips has him on the verge of an emotional breakdown. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he groans, looking at the ground as so to avoid your sharp eyes, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

You smile lightly at his manners, moving your head so you could watch him more attentively.

“Well, I heard you talk about having a crush. What about that, huh?”

He blushes immediately, scowling even harder and turning away from you so you can’t see his face, “I said I don’t have a crush, you idiot.”

You hum in acknowledgement, “that’s too bad.”

Katsuki moves his neck so fast it almost gives him whiplash, and he blushes harder when he notices how close to him you are.

“What do you fucking mean by that?”

“I wouldn’t mind you having a crush if it was on me.”

He melts on the spot, heartbeat speeding so much he can barely feel it beating.

You two stare at each other and he absolutely loves the cheeky grin on your face.

You look so pretty when you smile.

He kisses you before he can overthink it, chest fluttering at the feeling of your smile against his lips. He ends up smiling too, just a bit.

Katsuki definitely did not think he would fall in love with an extra like you. In fact, he did not think he would fall in love at all.

Yet he did, and he could begrudgingly admit it wasn’t actually that bad.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha #bakugou x reader #nina's 800 event

679 notes · View notes

dameronology · 3 years

Text

written in the stars (poe dameron)

summary: after months of going back and forth, you & poe are finally forced to have a conversation that you’ve been avoiding. it’s bound to hurt, but he’ll never give up hope.

warnings: swearing, angst

i hope u enjoy!

- jazz

You and Poe had broken up.

But also...had you really?

I should preface this by saying it was complicated - a tale as old as time, right? Two people who were still in love, but couldn't find it within them to stay and fight; but you couldn't find the tenacity you needed to leave, either. It left you in a state of limbo, half way between the gates of heaven and the flames of hell. Try as you might, and as many times you'd told your friends with complete bluster that it was over, it never really was. You couldn't quit Poe, and he was pretty addicted to you too. Your feelings weren't a switch. You couldn't just turn them off. That would have been pretty fucking convenient, but nothing about the human brain ever was. The very galaxy in which you existed thrived on complications: love and war, rain and shine, good and bad. Your relationship was like a smaller scale model of that. A constant back and forth between a state of battle and times of peace. That was what had forced you away in the first place: if you were in love, would it not have been peaceful all the time? At what point did you draw the line between passion and toxicity? He didn't know and neither did you.

The entire separation was a pointless fete really, because even if you were physically apart, Poe Dameron still owned your ass and staked a large claim in your heart. Your times with him had been some of the best; he was some of the best. It was just that you were both stubborn, and fighting in more than one type of war. It was all well and good to be head over heels, but only when the timing was right. The leap was only worth it if there was water to catch you, and in your case, it was jagged rocks. That hadn't been enough to stop you constantly running back to him though, bloodying yourself up time after time.

It was always just for one night. Usually after a few drinks and some pretty intense eye contact, and you'd be falling back between the sheets together. There was always the whispered promise of I'll be gone in the morning, but then you'd wake up in his arms and know in your soul that it wouldn't be the last. You swore to yourself it was but even for someone as stubborn as you, it was a hard pact to keep. How many just one nights had you shared together? It was probably ten. Maybe in the ballpark of fifteen. And then, once you'd stopped lying to yourself for the sake of self flattery, you would realise that it was more like twenty. Maybe twenty five? You weren't keeping track. That wouldn't have been good for either of you.

The morning after your twenty seventh just one night, you'd woken to a quiet room. Everyone in the Resistance had been out late, and the base was peaceful, save for the sound of the whirring of the boiler and the occasional clanging of the pipes above you. Poe's arms were tightly around your waist, holding you to his chest. His curls were tickling your neck as he quietly snoozed, head buried in your neck.

It was the first few moments of blissful, bleary-eyed ignorance. You know the seconds immediately after you wake up, when the circumstances were beyond you and your own name was a mystery? You willed yourself to stay in them, to not remember who you were or why you were in Poe Dameron's bed. Thinking about it would hurt.; remembering would have hurt. A cold reminder that the best thing in your life had become another victim of the war. That you weren't together and hadn't been for a while. Months, actually. Bare times like these, you'd let him slip away a long time ago.

You were the realist out of the two of you. Poe Dameron was a hopeless fucking romantic and every time you fell back into his arms, it gave him a little glimmer of hope. A tiny piece of anticipation that you would forget your existing problems and say come home, baby. He knew it was foolish but in times like these, pipe dreams were the only way people got through the day. Day-dreaming of romanticism against the back drop of a raging war was more common than not. Even Leia Organa dared to let herself dream. What else did anyone really have?

'Morning.' Poe quietly whispered.

He was in a similar state to you, knowing that last night had been a mistake (your twenty seventh, to be exact) but not wanting for it to be over just yet. If you could pretend for a little longer, even just five minutes-

'I have to go.' You sighed softly.

'Got a meeting?' He asked. 'On a Sunday morning?'

'No, Poe.' You murmured. 'I just gotta go.'

'Or could you not do that.' His grip on you tightened, head coming to rest on your shoulder. 'And stay here forever.'

Forever. That was a funny word. One you used to say to each other a lot - every day, in fact. I'll love you forever. I'll stay forever. That first one was true, at least. Forever was a big word. It was bigger than you and it was bigger than Poe. Neither of you knew what you'd been promising at the time.

'You know I can't.' You tried not to turn around, tried not to face him. The minute you caught wind of his warm eyes, you knew that would be it. The sad look on his face was enough to make you want to back-track on everything.

'Why do you always do this?' His voice was despondent. Poe let go of you, propping himself up on his elbows.

'Me?' You raised your eyebrows. 'It takes two tango-'

'- I don't mean that. I don't mean last night.' He pulled the covers further up his body as he sat up. 'I mean now. In the mornings.'

'What do you mean, Poe?'

'You're always the one to leave.' He said. 'You have a foot halfway out the door before I even wake up. Fuck, you have a foot half way out the door the whole night. You don't even bother shutting it behind you.'

'You know why.' You didn't bother to argue, instead clambering across him and out of bed. 'We've had a thousand conversations about it.'

Poe followed you out of bed, winding the sheet around his waist. He watched as you darted around the room, picking up your clothes that had gone flying the previous night. You pulled them on with haste - you just wanted to get out. The entire atmosphere was suffocating, threatening to swallow you whole and chew you up. That would have been preferable, actually. Poe wasn't usually this resistant when you'd left in the mornings before. He usually waved you off without a worry. Now, he was asking questions. Questions that you didn't want to answer, even if you knew what to say.

'That's the thing.' Poe said. 'I don't. I know we had our issues but the more I think about it, the more I realise that we can still make it work.'

'We can't!' You stopped, shirt midway over your head. 'You're forgetting, Poe.'

'Forgetting what?'

'The fighting!' You tugged it over your head, forcing your arms through either side of the shirt. 'The arguing, the accusations, the sleepless nights-'

'- that's my shirt-'

'- the you did this! and you did that!' You continued to ramble, pulling the khaki button up and throwing it towards him. 'Don't you remember? We were so dependent on each other but we couldn't seem to stand each other either.'

Poe's shoulders slumped, and he dropped back into the mattress. Yeah, he remembered. Chosen to forget, probably. Things had been either really, really good or really, really bad and it got to the point where the good wasn't worth the bad. If it was meant to be, it would have been lots of good times sprinkled with a few bad times. Instead, it felt like you were constantly in a storm, wading through the rain in hopes of finding a sunny day. That wasn't how relationships were supposed to be.

'So why do we keep doing this?' He asked. 'I know we were bad at a lot of things but we can't even break up properly.'

'Because it's a half-way point.' You reasoned. 'One night stands mean that we can be together without being together. No strings attached.'

'But we are attached, baby.'

You gave him a knowing look. 'My point exactly.'

'Are we going to keep doing this?' Poe murmured. 'Because every time you leave, a little part of me dies inside.'

You paused, biting your lip for a moment. You both knew the answer to that question - you just didn't want to admit it. This whole thing had to stop. The pretending to hate each other during the day and running to each other at night had to cease. Like smoking, the best way to quit was by going cold turkey. Just as Poe had said, having one foot out the door and one foot inside wasn't going to cut it anymore. You were in or you were out.

And out was the only option.

'For what it's worth, I'd rather it be coming in and out of your room than a revolving door of hot people.' You said. 'That might have actually killed me.'

Poe let out a small snort, despite the situation. 'I miss you. I really, really miss you.'

'And I miss you.' You replied. 'But I don't miss...needing you. I've learnt to exist outside of me and you, and so have you. We're better as separate people.'

'Separate entities.' He nodded. 'Got it.'

'That means that we actually have to do this now.' Your voice wavered slightly. 'We have to actually end it. We have to put us in the past and put a lock on it.'

Poe's chest felt heavy. He knew it was stupid to have held out hope that you might change your mind, but the fact you kept coming back for more lead him to think that the idea wasn't entirely crazy. What you had together was rare, and he knew he'd never find it again.

So, he settled for closing this chapter. For saying goodbye to this relationship; this version of you and him. It didn't mean that it wouldn't happen again in future. Maybe if you both survived the war, you could take the time to work through what had torn you apart. You could sit down and figure things out. There was no guarantee of it - no promise or certainty - but it was all he had. Because Poe knew that he could never completely quit you. Even if you said the words out loud and swore that him and you would never happen again, he knew you. You were past the point of no return. Past the point of ever loving anyone else in the way you loved one another.

He knew that no matter what, you would come back to him. Maybe not now, but there were plenty of times in the future that weren't now. The idea that there might even be the slightest chance of you coming back and figuring it out was enough reason to fight. To fight for you, to fight for the galaxy, to fight for the Resistance.

Poe let you walk away. He let you get dressed, give him a watery smile and quietly shut the door behind you. Because he knew, no matter what, that you would come back to him. It was just the kind of thing that was written in the stars, like Leia Organ's bad-assery or Han Solo's sarcasm.

He didn't know when. He didn't know how. He just knew.

And that was enough, because he was certain he’d see you again.

tags: @joyfullyswimmingface @etherealsanakin @interwebseriesfan24 @itspdameronthings @xwing-baby @jbtwpk @spider-starry @marvelinsanity

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron fan fiction #poe dameron blurb #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fan fiction #poe dameron angst #star wars angst #star wars x you

165 notes · View notes

dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

The Servant and The Prince | Four

Mama Mia, here we go again lovelies!

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki, chapter four

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: anger, mentions of abuse (not graphic), mentions of death (not graphic)

Tags: angst, fluff

Word count: 6.2k (oh god)

Previous | Next

Master List

Y/n’s heart thunders as she gazes up at the glittering golden gates of the castle. If she was not so bogged down with bags she would throw a hand over her brow— a futile attempt to keep her eyes from burning out of their sockets. Do they really have to be this glittery? She thinks they are marvellous, that is not the problem. The problem is that she is not marvelous. Not in the slightest. Not worthy of such magnificent, splendid, rich architecture. She glances down at her simple dress— the loose green threads hanging from the side of the garment— she had meant to fix those— is this really where she must stay? Surely there must be a stable somewhere. A barn for animals like her.

“Come on you churl—” Estrid hisses, her demon-esq nails digging into her arm where her step mother’s hand curls over sleeve— “you are making us look bad. At least pretend to have some couth.”

Estrid drags her forward for a moment, ushering her— all but kicking her— through the blinding gates before losing interest and rushing to meet Anna. Y/n bites her tongue. There are many things she could say. It is almost strange just how many retorts rush to her tongue. They race through her skull, infecting her mind like a sort of mould. Unlike with the bread back home she cannot seem to pick away at it— she cannot make the bad spots go away.

Perhaps if they had not left her to carry all of their things then she would not be taking so long. Do they really believe the princes will spare their diamonds a glance anyway? They are sure to be able to smell the fakes from miles away!

Y/n blinks a few times at the roar of fire that swells in her chest, encasing her very lungs in flames, almost stumbling over the marble stairs beneath her. It feels as though if she does not scream right now— if she does not say everything on her mind, unleash this pent up resentment— then she will surely cook from the inside out. It bubbles, simmers, does the thing pots do when they begin to sizzle— like they are screaming but she is not screaming; she only wishes she was. But she has never wanted to scream and she has been through so much worse. What is one little name, one hand yanking her arm? It is nothing but still she is ready to let the flames engulf her and burn the entire city.

It is terrifying— this kind of all consuming rage.

Estrid turns back towards Y/n, who is still stumbling over the steps, always the faithful servant, and her step mother scoffs. Estrid mutters something under her breath that she cannot hear. An insult, no doubt. It does not reach her ears. There is no way she would have been able to hear it anyway, not over the sound of the flames disintegrating her bones and blood and flesh from the inside out. It makes her want to scream louder— harder, make the castle walls crumble the same way she feels like she is— loud enough to hear over the roar.

Can you not hear it? Do you not care? She can taste the words as they beg for mercy on her tongue, wanting nothing more than to die on the cobblestone before her, spat out in a string of venom like they are meant to be. Can they not see that she is burning to the ground?

She barely swallows the words— she can hear them crying as they pass her throat and she almost changes her mind. She almost sets them free. It is all she can do to bend her neck at her step mother, wonder if the flames are visible in her eyes, and try not to cough up smoke right here on the castle steps. That would be very unladylike— a dishonor on her family. Oh— wait— no it would not be. Her family is dead. She can vomit as much smoke and flames as her little, burning heart desires. She has no one left to bring shame to. Gods, she is so terrified.

Why she is terrified, she does not know. She has never been scared before— not like this.

She was scared of the dark for the longest time. She used to see shadows on her walls and under the waves in the wash basin and against the trees when her mother would make her fetch the cat before bed. She used to think that was true fear— the night. The shadows. The wash basin. But then the morning sun would come and fight the shadows— then her mother would empty the basin— and before long there was nothing left to be afraid of.

But then there was no mother to empty the wash basin and suddenly she was afraid of death and the dark. Surely death must be the greatest fear one can have. Right? The all consuming nothingness, the longest sleep, the unknown. What could be scarier than the unknown? Than losing the people she loves the most and being left to wonder where they are and what they are doing— if they can even do anything— and are they okay? Please, someone just tell her, are they okay? She is not okay.

Darkness and death— death and darkness. At least those were always the scariest things and at least she had overcome them— both of them. There is nothing scarier than those two things. Except, apparently, herself. That is all there is left to be afraid of. Not Estrid or Anna, not pain. Not him. Those are all things she has survived. Overcome. Enjoyed. There is only herself to be afraid now, and the overwhelming, unbearable anger unfurling in her chest and arms and neck and skull. She is terrified of herself.

She is terrified of the anger.

“This way ladies— your chambers are this way!”

Y/n blinks— certain her eyelashes are singed and the blur in her vision is from the smoke in her eyes— and finds that she is no longer on the marble steps but in a long hallway. Pillars rise to her left, showcasing an expansive forest and a smudge of blue that must be the ocean. It feels so close— she can see the waves cresting with white foam so it must be. She can smell the salt, like it is right next to her. She can almost feel the surf lapping at her toes, cooling some of the burning tingle. She would do anything for it to rush up her legs. Soak her dress. Make her skin sticky. She would take the stickiness over the relentless flames. There is no time, though, to take her moment of peace. No time for stickiness. There never is.

“Are you deaf?” Estrid’s hand presses down on her spine, right where the bruises are from the last time the two came in contact. “Move! I will not take kindly to getting the worst chamber because of your dawdling.”

Are the bruises purple? She wonders. Perhaps they are red and black— like molten lava, shifting under her skin. She does not voice her musings aloud, of course. She swallows those thoughts alongside the rest of them. She can feel the precise way they fall on top of their partners, each wasted syllable mushing into the last. They fill her aching belly all the way, pressing on the hollow dip of her throat. If her thoughts were food she would never be hungry again.

Of course, she does not say any of that. Instead she bows her head, eating the flames as they rise. She is so full already though. “I am very sorry, Milady.”

Estrid scoffs. “You should be. Henry should have drowned you at birth had he known you would be so slow.”

At the sound of her father’s name her head snaps up. Estrid is already walking away again, hurrying to meet her impatient daughter. Anna taps her heel against the marble. Click, click, click. Each tap makes her head pound harder. Soon she cannot hear the clicks anymore. Her father would never do anything of the sort— her father was kind! They are not looking at her anymore. They cannot see the smoke billowing from her ears. They cannot see the blackness she feels flashing across her vision. They cannot see the hate. Just like she cannot see the bruises. Are they purple? Are they scarlet? What would her father think of them? She cannot see the bruises but she can feel them. Hot and itchy and painful. Can they feel the hatred? Are they just ignoring it like she is ignoring the volcanic bruises?

Probably. And they are not the only ones. Y/n weaves through the crowded hallway, dodging women of all shapes and colors— quite literally, she narrowly passes a woman with purple tinted skin— all of whom spare her not even a glance. It makes her feel invisible. It makes feel like she can finally breathe. It makes her angry. She is breathing the smoke again. Every face that passes her that does not look at her makes her charcoal lungs ignite even more. Her only solace is the all too familiar feeling of being split in two. The anger is not wholly her own— it is his as well. She can feel him in her chest, that aching part of her anger where he demands to be seen.

Is he mad at her?

She stops dead in her tracks. Just like that, her own anger is gone, replaced with something ice cold and unbearable. It starts in her hands. Her wrists begin aching— freezing— as the ice flows up through her veins. She thought the fire was bad. She takes it all back in this moment— she wants the flames again. The ice is in her chest now. She can feel it creeping closer to her heart. She wants the anger back. Her anger. Why would he be angry with her?

Does he hate her? She can no longer feel her heart beating— the ice has done its job. It is after her throat now, climbing higher and higher. What would it feel like to throw up shards of Ice? Nevermind, she does not want to know. She had wanted to scream before. She had wanted to burn the kingdom down with her voice and words and screams. Now she cannot even whimper. Her tongue is frozen. Her knees hit the floor— she does not feel it. Maybe it does not even happen, maybe her eyes are just frozen now and playing tricks on her. They make her feel as though she is falling— pull the ground from under her and send her vision spinning— but perhaps she is still standing. Still following. Still invisible.

Why would he hate her?

She watches as feet pass by her, heels and boots of all colors all slowing when they cross her path. Well, maybe they are slowing. Maybe that is just her mind continuing to play tricks on her though. She would not be able to tell the difference right now— if there is one, that is. She cannot look past the soles of the shoes, cannot meet the eyes of those passing her. She is stuck— her neck which was so hot only moments ago now stiff. To think that a simple thought could send her reeling in such a grand way as to literally floor her. It is almost impressive, actually. If she could feel anything other than the crushing, ice cold weight on her shoulders then perhaps she would laugh.

To think that a nameless, faceless man could make her feel such torrential and devastating emotions. Anger and sadness. Longing and desperation. It is unreal the things he makes her feel. Otherworldly things. Impossible, tragic, wonderful things. There is no way that any of it is real. She must be losing her mind. She wishes she was losing her mind. Her chest zaps where the emerald ring hits her sternum, tied to a thin strap of leather around her neck, the ice melting for a fraction of a second. It taps against her skin as her hands meet the marble floor, a gentle reminder that this— he— is real. Gods. A measure of the anger sparks back up and this time she knows that it is entirely her own.

When she was a little girl she used to watch the dust devils in her neighbours corn field. Her father would watch with her sometimes. One of those times he explained what was happening. He told her that wind only spirals like that when the cold air meets the hot air. When that happens— and the temperatures collide— they begin to fight. Imagine them like two rivals, her father had said. The cold air grabs the hot air’s hair. In turn the hot air kicks out at the cold air’s knees. They keep doing that— kicking and shoving and biting and pulling— until finally their limbs are but a blur. That is all a dust devil is, my girl— two rivals fighting. She had not thought to ask him what happens when the cold air and the hot air are not rivals— she had not thought to ask what would happen if the hot air and the cold air were actually lovers. Would the same thing happen? Those little dust devils? Would it be better?

Would it be worse?

Much like most things in her life, she does not know the answer to that. All she knows is that she can feel the air— be them rivals or lovers— punching and kicking, kissing and touching, in her chest and it hurts. All she knows is that if he is real then he better come and get her right now before her body caves to the icy fire tornado that is swirling in her lungs. She is going to implode.

“My dear—” a warm hand lands on her shoulder and it is like magic the way her thoughts are silenced, leaving behind nothing but a harsh ringing in her ears— “are you alright? That was quite the spill you just took.”

Whoever is speaking to her has a voice that is like honey and silk. It wraps around her, soothing every ache in her weary body. The hand rubs a circle into her shoulder, not letting her go, and she begins to thaw, the ice around her eyes and throat and heart melting away in seconds. Not back to the anger— no, that is long gone, a mere thought in the back of her mind— but instead to a new feeling. She is neither ice nor fire— she is springtime. She is warm and calm, her fingers flexing against the marble like small creatures emerging from hibernation. She curls them a few times, relishing in the blood as it returns to her hands and the way it does not feel as though it is burning her. It is not fire, it is just blood.

“Do you think you can get up?” The soft voice is right next to her ear now and she closes her eyes for a moment. It sounds so familiar— so gentle. She never thought she would hear that voice again. “I think maybe we should go to the healers— just in case, my dear.”

She can smell it now— the yeast. The berries. She takes a deep breath in and she can taste the strawberry jam on her lips like she is eight years old again. Her father used to always sneak her an extra pastry after dinner. They would split it on the back porch, their fingers sticky and their laughter twisting into the twilight. Her mother must have known— she was meticulous. She was so aware of the things around her at all times. She was beautiful and kind and made the best jam in the entire realm.

“Mother?” The word slips off her tongue instinctively. Naturally. She cannot stop it because, for a moment, it is as though she is right next to the woman she misses most. It is as though everything is okay again.

Y/n lifts her head— she finally can, her neck is no longer stiff with ice— her eyes landing on a woman with flowing golden hair that twists and curls against her chest. It is not her mother. Her chest squeezes. She knows that it should not— it was never going to be her mother and she knows that— but she cannot help but feel deflated. If there was ever a time for a miracle it would be right now. Preferably a miracle that makes the best strawberry pastries and gives hugs that feel like taking a warm bath. She shakes her head lightly, clearing the thought and the mist that has begun to gather in her eyes. It is not the time for sentimentality.

The woman— the woman who is not her mother— has soft blue eyes— iridescent almost— that bore into her own. There is a ring around her pupils where the blue turns to a darker coal. For a moment it looks like the ring is pulsing. The longer Y/n looks into her eyes the deeper she falls into them. It does not feel as much like drowning as one would think. It is a softer kind of falling— it is as though the woman can see every inch of her soul with a simple look. Her aroma strengthens, changing slightly. The yeast is no longer present— that was only ever her imagination— and now there is a strong, flowery scent. It is strangely intoxicating.

She has to blink a few times, turning away for a taste of fresh air, her gaze falling to the woman’s flowing silk gown. It is a delicate ivory number with beautiful embroidery all over the bust. Little flowers. Perhaps that is where the scent is coming from, wafting off the garden around her collarbone. She really is springtime.

The woman laughs and the flowers sway, moved by a breeze of breath and glee. “Oh my darling, I think you just confirmed my thoughts. Let's get you up, alright? See if we can find someone to take a look at you. Your head must be pounding.”

She is like an oasis in the desert. Y/n has never been to the desert but still— this is what she imagines it would feel like. Gentle and easy, like a cool breeze or a patch of shade. It would feel like the soothing touch of this woman’s hands as she pulls her body from its heap on the ground, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her from toppling right over again. Her legs feel unstable and her knees are shaking but everything is okay. But oasis’ are just figments of the imagination— or at least this one is. They are doomed to fizzle away eventually, taking with them the joyful shade and leaving behind the scorching heat.

As the golden woman begins to turn with her, no doubt pulling her in the direction of the supposed healers, there is an ear piercing screech.

“There you are! You were supposed to be following us you dense child.” Estrid is in front of Y/n in seconds, her narrowed eyes locked on her and the familiar, gut wrenching sneer on her scarlet lips. “It is like you never listen on purpose— you just mill about in your own little world. Always about Y/n, never about anyone else.”

The fire from before— the scorching heat— begins bubbling in the pit of her stomach. It splashes like tar, slowly coating her insides in that all consuming hate. She bites her tongue, clenching her jaw. She can still feel the woman’s hand on her shoulder. There is still a piece of the oasis and she clings to it. But even that is being consumed— the touch melting into the lightning in her veins. She is definitely going to explode.

Her step mother takes a step towards her but halts, her eyes darting to the floor where they stay for a long moment. When her neck snaps back up she is positively fuming. “You dropped our things! Why you ungrateful little brat, I—”

In less than the blink of an eye she is no longer looking at her step mother but rather at the back of a blonde head, her hand laced with a hand so soft she would think it an evening glove.

“This young woman has tripped.” The blonde woman’s voice is calm still but holds no more of that gentle tread. Her hand squeezes softly, a contrast to her firm tone. “I will be escorting her to the healers to see what has happened.”

Estrid blinks, her eyes darting away from Y/n and up to the new woman. When she does her entire face goes pale, as though she has seen a ghost. How odd.

“Your Majesty.” Estrid bows her head, her knees bending slightly in a curtsy.

Your Majesty? Y/n’s eyes drift back to the gown— the marvelous ivory silk. It is as though all the little details begin appearing in that moment. The high thread count, the intricate stitching at the waist and bodice, the gemstone bracelet on her dainty wrist. That bracelet alone must be worth more than her entire life. Sapphires and rubies and emeralds. She wears it as though she has no idea how much it is worth— as though she has no idea it is even there at all. She wears it as though she is royalty and she has many more of them in her room.

Oh no— no, no, no.

The blonde woman turns back to her, her crystal eyes softening marginally from what she can only imagine was an icy stare moments ago. “Come on, dear. I will take you to my healer.”

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes wide. Her spine aches as she does. Her mouth feels like it is filled with cotton. She cannot speak but she has to. She has to refuse.

“No, no, your Majesty—” She copies Estrid’s greeting, she does not know what else to call her— “I am alright, truly. I do not wish to burden you further. I will—” She pauses, woozy all of a sudden, the salty breeze ten times stronger— “I will be fine.”

The woman’s crystal eyes narrow but not in the sharp way her step mother’s usually do. “My child, I insist. You do not look well.”

Y/n can practically feel Estrid’s stare burrowing into the side of her face. She can feel the bruises on her back— perhaps purple, perhaps yellow. It does not matter. If she does not go now then they will surely be black in an hour. Less. There it is— there is the fear she had been missing. She wobbles slightly on her feet. The salt air mingles with the pine trees. It is intoxicating— it is deadly. She is going to pass out if she does not move. She shakes her head at the woman, hoping there is something in her eyes that conveys the danger she feels.

“I am alright,” even she can hear the pleading tone in her voice. “Please.”

The woman— the Queen— stares at her for a moment. It is only a few seconds, the coal ring around her pupils pulsing gently, but it feels like days. It feels like a lifetime. She purses her rosy lips, taking a deep breath.

A hand— one much more rough and hot— wraps around her other wrist. “Your Majesty—” Estrid’s nasally voice is high pitched, like she is attempting to hide her cruel intentions— “my daughter just needs to sleep I think. I can take over from here.”

Y/n forces a smile to her lips— one that tastes like metal and blood— like betrayal— hoping it is enough to convince the queen. She adds a little nod in there for good measure. It is all about appearances. For a moment she thinks it is actually going to work. The Queen’s shoulders sag gently, her chin dipping down in a partial nod. It is actually working— maybe she will not get punished too harshly. She will pick up the bags and hurry to their room and stay as silent as a mouse and everything will be fine. Right?

Estrid squeezes her wrist harder— enough to make her bones whine in pain— and she can feel the on her face grin falter. It is for only a fraction of a second, the corner of her lips peeling down in a grimace that she cannot suppress, but it is enough. By the time she has painted the fake smile back on her face the Queen is at her side, that silky hand curling around her shoulder, gentle but firm enough to pull her away from her step mother. Y/n does not know if she would rather thank her or cry.

“I am afraid I truly must insist. As a Queen—” She stresses the word, her title. This is no longer a suggestion; it is an order— “it is my duty to ensure that all my guests are properly taken care of. It will not take long; just a quick check up.”

The Queen’s hand ushers her a couple steps down the hallway. Estrid follows, her brows pulled together dramatically. “But your Highness, I—”

The Queen holds up her hand, an elegant and dangerous gesture, her kind face cracking under the weight of her furious eyes. She does not even try to conceal the rage swimming in the crystal pools. She does not have to— she will face no repercussion for her anger.

“But nothing. She is to go with me and that is final.” Her burning crystals glance down to the bags, all of which are still spilling over onto the marble, draping the stone with bits of lace and silk, none of which look nearly as exquisite as the Queen’s gown. “I will send someone to gather your belongings and return them to your chambers. Now, if you will kindly excuse us.”

With that she is spinning, pressing her hand gently against Y/n’s back and leading her back in the direction she had come from. She can feel Estrid’s glare on her neck, burning holes in the back of her head. If stares were able to kill then she would be laying in a heap on the marble again, she just knows it. Soon, though, they turn a corner and she can no longer feel her step mother’s lethal gaze. That does not stop her heart from racing so hard that she wonders if it will jump out of her chest. It does not stop the vomit from pooling in her throat. She should feel relieved—grateful— but all she can think about is the pain. Both the pain she is in now and the pain she will be in later.

“It was okay really,” she mutters. It is a last ditch effort, one that is destined to fail before it is even out of her mouth, but she has to try anyway. “I am okay. I think I just slipped.”

She did not slip— she lost it. She does not know quite what it is but she knows whatever it is has been lost. Her sanity. Her grip on reality. Her damn mind. Any and all of them, now gone.

The queen stops, turning her bright blue eyes on her once more. She sighs, her smile understanding. “I think if you had slipped then you would have gotten back up.”

The Queen’s tone is pitying, her fingers gentle on her hand, and Y/n drops her eyes to the ground. She resents it— all of it. She does not want pity. “I needed a moment is all.”

A hand presses under her chin, bringing her gaze back up. There is no more smile on the Queen’s face— only a firmness in her eyes. She does not look so much like a Queen here; she looks like a mother. Her mother. She can see some of her own mother in the faint lines near her eyes and the cupid's bow above her rose petal lips. She has to bite down to keep the ache from her throat at bay.

“That was not a moment, my dear. I was there. That was quite a few moments. You were ready to let those girls trample you, were you not?”

“I— I just—” she swallows hard, trying to make her words work. It seems like she cannot string a sentence together for the life of her. Like her entire vocabulary has vanished— “I needed a moment, your Majesty. That is all.” All she can do is repeat herself.

The Queen narrows her eyes, her thumb smoothing over her jaw before she finally releases her. “Frigga.”

Y/n’s heart stutters and she has to cover her cough from the way all the air whooshes out of her lungs. “Pardon me, your Majesty?”

“Please, call me Frigga.”

This time her heart does not just stutter; it stops completely. She presses a hand against her chest, taking a tiny step backwards. She cannot breathe again. The smile on the Queen’s— Frigga’s— face is too kind. Too gentle. Too much. This is not a trick, she is not trying to get her in trouble. She is not telling her to shut up or to hurry up or to grow up. She is just being kind. No one is kind to her. Not even when they want something from her. What could the Que— Frigga, Y/n, her name is Frigga— possibly want from her? What could she give her that would mean anything more than what she already has? She sucks in a breath, sounding quite like a dying animal in the middle of the thankfully empty corridor. It is too much— it is all too much.

“No, I could not. You Maj—”

Frigga grabs her hand again, her warm skin stilling her own, clammy hands. “Calm child. It is alright. You are alright” Her words are slow, her tone a low murmur. It works wonders on her nerves. It is magic. “Frigga. Please, nobody here calls me anything formal. You should hear my sons.” The side of her mouth quirks up, her tone becoming teasing, “mother, where is father? That is all anyone around here says to me. I am not used to such formalities. I would prefer Frigga, my dear.”

Y/n takes another breath, nodding her head.

“Y/n—” she whispers back, not sure what else to do besides introduce herself back— “my name is Y/n.”

Frigga’s smile grows, nodding as well. She makes it feel like this is a normal exchange— like they are just two new friends meeting for the first time. “That is a lovely name.”

The Queen turns after that, pulling her once more to continue walking down the grand hallway. They move in silence, Frigga no doubt trying to give her some room to breathe. It is surprisingly easy to just be there with her. It is serene. She stares out past the pillars as they walk, her eyes dipping back to the faraway shoreline. Now the water is sparkling in the high afternoon sun, the cresting waves catching the light and bouncing it back and forth amongst each other. It is as though each wave that passes winks at her before smoothing against the sand. She cannot tell if they are saying hello or goodbye. Perhaps neither. Perhaps they are just acknowledging that she is there. She bows her chin gently, acknowledging them as well.

She does not know how long they walk for, her attention too focused on the blinking shore, but soon Frigga is pulling open a heavy wooden door— one that has the most intricate carvings on it’s frame that Y/n longs to stare at in depth—and tugging her in behind her. She has no idea what she is expecting— maybe a herb closet and a long table for practicing healing— it is a healer’s closet after all— but whatever it is, what she sees is not it. She is not expecting the most exquisite room in all of existence.

The first thing her eyes fall to is a wonderfully large pool of water sitting in the middle of the room. It must be the size of her entire bedroom, which granted is not that large but in comparison to her own tiny tin basin at home this is pure luxury. The sides of the pool are golden and tiled with colorful gemstones. She cannot even name all them, not recognizing half of the stones. They catch the light pouring in from the expansive balcony, sparkling against each other. There are steps leading up the side, promising entry into the luscious looking water. Altogether it is hypnotizing, calling her name until she is taking a few stuttered steps towards it. As she gets closer she can smell the fragrant oils, much more rich than anything she is used to.

“Oh my.”

“It is quite something, I will admit.” Frigga laughs from behind her, meeting her next to the edge of the tub. She dips her hand into the water, submerging the expensive bracelet in the water without a care. “It was a present from Odin for our first anniversary. I was just as shocked. I did not leave this room for weeks. I even slept here, can you imagine that?”

“I think I would as well, if I were you. It is stunning.” She, too, dips her hand below the water. She almost gasps at how warm it is— at how soft the water is. “I have never seen anything like it.”

Frigga pulls her hand from the water, shaking the droplets lightly from her skin. She turns back to Y/n, her crystal eyes sparkling with joy. “Perhaps later— only if you would like, of course— you could try it.”

Her mouth falls open, her own hand, still swirling through the silky water, pausing. “Oh no, your Maj—” Frigga purses her lips, her eyes crinkling gleefully— “Frigga, I could not.”

The Queen laughs again and she can hear the way her own mother used to giggle. “Of course you can my dear. In fact, you must! But first let us eat.”

Y/n’s brows pull together— what about the healers? Is that not why she is here?

Frigga must notice her confusion because she lifts her hand to her face, the Queen’s fingers now scented like rose petals. “I have found that the best medicine is a full belly, would you not agree?”

Instantly the tears well up in her eyes again. They are not from sadness this time— nor from longing— instead they are from the relief she feels coursing through her body. It is so foreign that she does not recognize it at first. It is neither hot nor cold. There is no pressure on her chest alerting her to it. In fact there is nothing. She feels nothing. It is exhilarating.

She does not notice the first tear fall until Frigga’s thumb catches it. “Thank you.”

The Queen sighs, her smile faltering. It is still there but barely. “Come, child.”

Y/n follows Frigga to the balcony, passing under some gem coloured curtains and into the warm sunlight. She almost freezes in her tracks, the memory of the last time her back was in the sun still fresh on her mind. Her mind falls back to the man, her nose filling with salt and pine which leaks in from the gardens below. She can feel his hands on her back, crawling over her hips. She does not wonder what color her back is this time— be it purple or yellow or molten red— it does not matter anymore. For some reason the thought of him makes it not matter anymore. He makes it better.

Frigga turns on her heel, her eyes lighting up, her hands shooting out to grasp Y/n’s shoulders. It is all she can do not to reel back from the suddenness of the action, wobbling slightly but smiling. She, in turn, reaches for the Queen’s hands, steadying herself on her silken skin.

“I completely forgot my dear, I told my son to meet me here for afternoon tea. You do not mind, do you?”

Y/n’s breath catches in her throat, her memories surging again. She can taste him on her lips for a brief moment. A short, silly moment. She pushes him down, shaking her head lightly to clear her thoughts. That would be impossible.

“No, of course not this is your home.”

Frigga squeezes her shoulders. “Wonderful!”

As the blonde woman releases her, moving to sit in one of the golden chairs on the balcony, there is a voice that sounds from the door. It is deep, impossibly so, and sends shivers racing down her spine.

“Mother, are you in here?”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Tag list: @crystal-siren

#loki laufeyson #loki #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #Loki laufeyson x y/n #loki fic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fic #loki laufeyson imagine #mcu #mcu fic #mcu imagine

93 notes · View notes

random-imagines-blog · 3 years

Text

Flirt {Ygritte x Female!Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @starjane312 Wordcount: 2623 Summary: The new boy at camp brings all sorts of trouble.

The new boy was staring. Ever since Ygritte had returned to the camp, bringing this puppy of a man, no, a boy, back with her, he’d been giving her the heart eyes whenever she wasn’t looking. You couldn’t blame him, Ygritte was the most amazing person that you had ever met, and you thanked the old Gods every day that you had been blessed enough to marry her. Same-gender relationships were extremely rare and frowned upon, even for the Wildlings when there was the pressure to have babies, but your father, Mance, had allowed it. So though that was allowed, this boy staring at your wife was not. You poked at the fire with your stick to push some of the wood further in towards the fire, while glaring at the boy. You retraced the story in your head - he had been found, and unfortunately saved, and then brought here. As if he belonged here. Anyone could see that he most certainly didn’t. Except for Ygritte who treated him kindly - or at least her version of kind.

“Yer barely eating,” Ygritte said, pushing a bit more of the bear meat towards you. “Whats a matter which-ya?

“Guess I’m not hungry,” You muttered, finally going from the boy’s dark eyes to Ygritte’s blue gray which rivaled the color of water. “Don’t you worry about me. You go on and eat it. You’re skin n’ bone.”

“Just cause I ain’t got blubber doesn’t mean I’m a guppy,” Ygritte said, reaching out and put a hand on your sturdy thigh. It was true, you weren’t the skinniest of the bunch, you had some meat on your bones. To the point where many of the men could be seen looking at your stomach and licking their lips when food was scarce. If your father wasn’t who he was, you probably would have been killed already. That was just the way that things sometimes went up here. You did what you had to do to survive.

“If you don’t wanna be a guppy, you better eat up then,” You said, pushing the meat right back to her and got up onto your feet. “I’m gonna go have a word with the crow.”

“Oh, this is gonna be good,” Ygritte said, taking the meat in her gloved hand and got up to follow you. You stopped and looked over your shoulder at her, raising an eyebrow.

“I didn’t ask for an audience,” You said.

“I know tha’,” She crossed her arms, still chewing on what was in her mouth. “Tha’s exactly why I’m comin’. I’m not missin’ out on whatever talk that you’re going to give him. Remember the last person we found and rescued? I think ‘is nose is still broken.”

“He grabbed yer arse, you think I was gonna let him get away with that?”

“This one didn’t,” Ygritte said, nodding at new boy. “Besides, not like he’s got anythin’ in that head of his except for the wall. That Jon Snow, he knows nothin’.”

“So I’m gonna make sure that he knows somethin, and it’s to stop makin those goo-goo eyes at my wife,” You said, stepping closer to where the man was. He noticed you coming and seemed to tense up. Good. You stared at him for a moment, and then gave a little growl. He might have a direwolf - but you were the alpha wolf around these parts. “You gonna scar up his pretty face?” Ygritte asked, nudging you. “Like you did with the others? How many would that be now - five? Ten?”

“I los’ count about a year ago. Guess it’s my own fault then. I just had to go and fall in love with the prettiest lass this side of the Wall,” You grinned. She laughed, but gave your chest a bit of a slap in that way that she did. She was a tough and fearless woman, with a pretty face to boot. Many of the men around here wanted her, and any from outside, like Jon Snow, probably would too. Bastards, all of em.

“Ahh, you big softie, you’re like a gutted pig. All tough on the outside and steamy and warm on the inner,” Ygritte said, which was about as romantic as things tended to get around here. “You gonna go threaten him on my behalf now, wife?”

“Don’t know if I need to now that I’ve already got his attention,” You said, turning your body towards Ygritte. “I’ll just show him what’s what instead of having ta tell him.”

The furs were always something that came between you but with the heavy cold of the everlasting winter, they were something that had to be gotten used to. Still, you brushed up close enough to her to bring her soft, dainty pink lips into a kiss right there, in front of everybody. There were some whoops. Some hollers. Some of the men never got tired of seeing two women kiss, the bloody perverts. You were putting on a bit of a show but it wasn’t for anyone’s amusement. It was a warning.

You had grabby hands, always had, always would, and then went right down to that ass beneath the long fabric of her coat and gave it an audible slap. It was loud enough, sharp enough to sound like a branch breaking. Ygritte never minded when you got a bit rough. Turned her on in fact, something you knew very well. Some might call you a bit possessive, but you considered it your duty to guard the lovely lass who had stolen your heart. Even if she would blacken the eye of anyone else who would dare to call her lovely.

“I love ya,” You said, forgetting about the reason why you were doing this in front of everyone. She had her hands on both of your cheeks, feeling how warm they were, slightly squishing them so that you made a silly face in the way she always found amusing. You laughed, though the inside of your cheeks squished against your teeth.

“And I love ya, y/n Ryder,” She said in return, and pressed another kiss on those puckered lips of yours, right in front of crow-boy and everyone else.

The Battle at Castle Black. The name was fitting, because it was a black night for many who were involved. You had your suspicions about Snow since the beginning, though you had hoped that you were wrong. There was something fishy about this Castle Black, and so you had gone with your wife to spy on it, find out how many people were defending it. It was so strange to you, these wardens of the wall, because your father had been one of them and turned his back on it. They had made him give a pledge not to have relationships. These people - they didn’t want you to be born. To have your life.

“I’m havin’ second thoughts abou’ this,” Ygritte said, turning to you. And you had to agree. You were angry at these people, these wardens, but you also didn’t want any more of your people to have to die. It felt like there was a trap afoot. Everyone was preparing for the attack, you had your swords, and your bow at your back, that sick feeling remaining in your stomach. You thought about going to talk to the others about your instincts, but the warg snapped out of his trance at that very second. The signal had been given. It was time to move in.

It was too late to turn back now, so you ran ahead with your wife, sticking together through this. You absolutely refused to be separated. Where she went, you went. Where you went, she went. You both went towards the gate, and using your bows so you could stay a far distance, started to shoot at them. One of your arrows went right through the eye of a man at the gate. And you couldn’t say that you felt bad. They had signed up for this. They didn’t have a wife and kids that you should feel bad for. They made their bed and now they were going to damn well lay in it.

Your wife got some good shots as well, but there was no time to stop and celebrate her accuracy. The battle kept going, and would keep going until there was a victor. It was time to move in, to close the distance.

And what did you see but that stupid crow fighting alongside of his ‘brethren’ rather than the rightful side of the Wildlings. “I told you that boy could not be trusted,” You growled to Ygritte. She looked angry too. She had been taken in by him, had formed a friendship with him during the travels to the wall. Your ‘I told you so’ didn’t help matters much but you felt like it needed to be said. And now, you were determined to take him down.

“Damn traitor ain’t even worth it,” Ygritte said, spitting onto the ground at what she had seen. She took hold of your hand, gave it a squeeze, then went back to preparing her bow to fire again. You took out your sword, getting ready for blade to blade combat against these so called men. You didn’t believe that they were men at all. Your father, Tormund, your friends among the wildlings, those were men. They did what they had to do to survive.

They went down. So did some of your own people. You noticed that some of the crows in their black jackets were running, trying to hide. That alone was a sign of victory. None of your people were trying to hide. None of your people were cowards. Slash, slash, clash of blades, sparks flying from how fast and how hard they hit each other. Stab, stab, cutting through flesh, entering it, becoming a butcher of fine human meat. Groans from the injured, you put them out of their misery.

And then the moment seemed to fall silent as you turned to see that Ygritte had her bow pointed right at Jon Snow, who stood above Styr’s body. You looked at the corpse on the ground, your heart beating fast, rage flooding through your veins. You would never forgive this. You had your blade out and you pointed it towards Jon as well. But this was more so Ygritte’s revenge. Let her kill the traitor, for it was her that he had blinded. You looked about you, refusing to be distracted by the confrontation beside you. You couldn’t let yourself be blinded as well.

You heard the arrow, and your instincts took over. You pushed Ygritte out of the way and caught the arrow yourself, it lodging into your side. It barely penetrated through the thickness of your skin, you could feel that. It was almost like a bug bite. But for Ygritte, calculating by how she had been standing, it might have been fatal. You turned to the boy who fired it, and you charged, pulling the arrow out of the fur and skin, taking it out in one piece, your blood turning the stone on the end a deep red color. Jon was shouting at you to stop. That Olly was just a boy. But Ygritte silenced him with a shouting of her own.

You took hold of the boy, who seemed startled that you had stopped his attack. You held the arrow that he had shot at your wife to the soft underside of his chin. “May you live this moment forever,” You cursed, then thrust the arrow upwards, right into his skull. At that, Jon roared at you. Something about how he was only a kid.

“A killer is a killer,” You said, marching back towards him. As you did, the war kept going on. The death of one didn’t matter much in this war of thousands. But then a weapon was released - a sort of scythe that started to cut through your people. It sent ice into your heart far more effectively than the cold had. You took Ygritte’s hand and she didn’t fight you. “We must go to the meeting spot,” You told her.

“Yeah,” She said, a little shaken at how near death she had gotten, but then her fearless expression came back onto her pale features. She turned her bow towards Jon, arrow still drawn, her fingers trembling to let it go. “If ye even think of followin’ us, traitor, I’ll kill ye where ye stand. I mean it. You deserve worse than that.”

“He sure does,” You grumbled, but then heard more screams of your people. “We gotta go, now,” You said. And you tugged her along, being quite fast despite the bit of fat that you had on your body which people used to make fun of you for. But you were also quite sturdy, able to push people out of the way to get out of Castle Black and make your return to the woods where your father was waiting for you. The Haunted Forest, where you would meet again with your brethren, your family, and speak of the defenses of the crows.

Your father was burning. Ygritte and some of the others had to hold you back, hand clamped over your mouth as you cursed the names of Baratheon, of Stark, of Davos, of everyone that was involved in your fathers death. You could feel the heat of the flames over your own body as you were told about it. Your father was strong until the end - he did not bow. He would never kneel. For you were free folk. It was a lesson that many people needed reminding of.

It had a huge effect on you, because as Mance’s daughter, you were the one that they looked at for advice now, for guidance. But also as a woman, they didn’t completely respect the advice that you gave. That didn’t matter. They could listen to you, go along with what had been your father’s plan, or they could die here. They could get killed by the white walkers. It didn’t matter much to you anymore. You were more in this for the fight than the results, which Ygritte saw in you right away. You had that inner fire that was needed to survive in the winter wasteland.

“I’m sorry,” Ygritte said as you took a walk to try to work off this angry energy. “It’s all my fault. I shoulda listened to ya. Ya knew right from the start that he couldn’t be trusted. That he could never be one of us.”

“A lot of people trusted him, not just you,” You said, stopping to turn to her. You could see, and feel, the guilt coming off of her in waves. And the anger. That unstoppable rage that came with redheads. You’d been on the other side of it before, so seeing it now pointed towards those who deserved it - you were sure that you were going to get your revenge. Maybe not tonight, nor tomorrow, but one day. You were going to make sure that your father was not forgotten. You were never going to bend the knee. You were going to be the fire that killed the traitor. And with your wife by your side, you knew, you could do anything.

#Ygritte #Ygritte oneshot #Ygritte x reader #Game of Thrones #Game of Thrones oneshot #Ygritte one shot #Game of Thrones one shot #x reader #oneshot #one shot #request

64 notes · View notes

kylosgenesis · 3 years

Text

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Unbeta'd: Might have some mistakes

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, mentions of consent

Chapter 5:Little Talks

Morning came pretty fast! Everything that happened after the bite was a blur. She felt her body light up! Like cables finally connecting together; until one by one till there was only peace, and him at the back of her head. Her body remained a bit weak, but her mind was stronger than ever!

She didn’t know how she should feel! One moment she’s getting ready to see the light, and the next she’s mated to her childhood best friend whom she hadn’t even talked to in years.

It wasn’t a fairytale moment! Not like what her mom described or she excitedly read about in books. There wasn’t an undying passion consuming them ; no words of love shared! Only chills, and the feeling of being lost. With him, or without him.

Getting ready to start the hike back was complicated! There were little to no words shared between them in the past few hours. He only woke her up to tell her he’d caught a rabbit, and she should eat and regain her strength.

She hated that despite wanting to spit the pieces of rabbit she’d managed to take a bite of right into his face, she simply couldn’t! He had this emotional hold on her where no matter how much she wanted to punch and hate him, she would still trust and react to him as if he deserved it. They walked in silence the whole time, Bucky was the one who broke the silence first.

“I think this is the best place to set up the flare! The village can see in from the north, east and west...” as he pointed at all the directions

“once they see the signal, Steve and the search team will know where we are, until then we should remain put”

She just nodded! Too emotionally exhausted from being within her own thoughts the whole morning.

Bucky noticed her switch in her emotions, her thoughts had been bothering him all morning. He couldn’t physically read or understand them, but there was a humming within him. It filled him with fear, anxiety, and sorrow.

Even though he himself was scared out of his mind, he knew it was nothing compared to her right now. She went from a peaceful life, to a mate, and a whole different life ahead of her in just a few hours.

The flare was loud and bright, he knew it was only about time till they would be in for company, and he still had to manage to explain to his best friend how totally he had messed up.

“ So...What happens now?” She had creeped up on him while he was deep in thought. He turned back and stroked his stubble while he was scared of fully looking into her eyes.

He felt responsible for her now, an overwhelming urge to protect her from everyone and everything, but the worst part is, he’d chosen that for them!

In her eyes he had betrayed her trust and in his eyes he was a monster. All the self control he’d managed to build over the years, all the regrets he had all lead up to this.

“ I don’t know yet! Steve will be here any minute... it’ll be best I talk to him... Alone!” They shared a mutual stare “ I wouldn’t want you to be involved in this. This is my mess to fix”

She was weirdly curious at the mention of Steve, she’d heard of the packs alpha before Steve. The one that killed her father, and threw away her mother like it was nothing.

Bucky could tell that the mention of Steve made her uneasy, she after all had never met him, or any of the pack as a matter of fact. It dawned on Bucky that not only was she still in shock from the bite, but her world was about to get a whole lot bigger!

Her little cabin would no longer be her only life and reality.

The sound of tires screeching in the distance caught them both by surprise. Out of the corner of her eyes a large vehicle pulled up, and out came a small woman with straight locks of lovely red shoulder length hair. Besides her stood a blonde middle aged man around the same height as her, but more muscular.

They were both betas as far as you could tell, still the unknown fear pushed you to rely on Bucky for comfort. You strode forward towards Bucky, and hid behind his large body, you were exposed enough where you could see the movement of people around, but Bucky’s body still kept you safe and protected.

The red haired woman approached first. She first stopped in front of bucky, confused! But soon she stood on the hard tips of her muddy combat boots, and embraced Bucky

” We thought you’d both died on the trail, there were no tracks to follow... things went cold fast! Steve’s gonna be ...”

Natasha made eye contact with you and most importantly your now scabbed, and healing neck. she let go of her embrace of Bucky and stared at him in disbelief.

“Nat... don’t! I know this looks ba... “

before he could finish his sentence a hand collided with his face. His nostrils flared in shock and the pupils in his eyes dilated, she noticed the beta behind the red haired woman now stood between her and Bucky.

“You took advantage of her!” she pointed at him while the beta punched her back, Bucky caressed his now blushed red cheek.

“ Not more than Steve would’ve “ he replied, fire in his tone!

“ Bucky you know how important she is! We needed her, how could you do that to him!”

Bucky knew Nat was partially right. But he was too proud to admit it.

She noticed that when Bucky was nervous he would fondle with his hands, look at them as if they were brand new, but this time he was different.

He spewed confidence! She could see the alpha in him look intimidating so she stepped closer to him. Her aura immediately calmed Bucky down enough to alert the small woman, the alpha , and Bucky of the sound of an approaching motorcycle.

From behind, a motorcycle approached from her end! She turned around, and saw a large man with blonde long locks, as far as she could tell he was the alpha they referred to as Steve.

His face kept itself hidden behind a well kept beard, he emerged from under the shadow, and she braced herself for the shock of a new face. As the sun shone on him, she was met with a pair of ocean blue eyes, and her heart dropped. He was easily the most single handedly intimidating person she has ever met, yet he looked gentle, and kind all at the same time.

Steve himself couldn’t contain the fire flowing through his veins, the excitement as he approached her evident on his stride. Before he could fully reach her, Bucky was in between her and Steve like a barrier.

“ Bucky move!” Steve used his alpha command voice on Bucky, yet Bucky barely flinched as he just pushed her closer to his back, and away from Steve’s line of sight.

“Steve...” he was face to face with his best friend. Blue eyes colliding in gaze and confusion coating Steve’s face “Things didn’t go well last night! I had no other choice, she was..” it hit Steve slowly at first and then all at once!

The look of betrayal and the smell of his fury even startled her, she was hidden out of Steve’s hindsight, so it must be Bucky's emotions reflecting on her.

The red haired women approached them. So far she’d had no introduction to any of them, but she felt the kindness in her eyes, even through her intimidating gaze.

She stepped between them!

“Not right now... “ she took turns making a calming eye contact with both of them.

The red haired woman wasn’t scared of their alpha rage or hormones, so she must be someone they both looked up to and to an extent respected.

“Not in front of her! The woman turned to her and kindly nodded. “She’s scared!” She turned back to talk to them. “She doesn’t need to be in the middle of your testosterone sandwich right now, let me take her! Clint and I will keep her safe we promise! You guys can beat each other up after we leave” the woman backed up away from them, and towards you.

You could feel both Bucky and Steve’s gazes pierce right through you. Bucky was nervous! You could tell, but he was trying to send you into more distress than you’d already been though. And Steve... your heart skipped a beat the longer you stared at him.

You didn’t have experience talking to people outside of your mom and Winnifred, but his man was making you stumble upon your words in your brain, you couldn’t even imagine if you tried saying something right now.

All the thoughts of your brain this morning seemed to disappear in the presence of these two alphas. You weren’t scared of them, your heart was just curious to know more! And your brain was going haywire, and deep down in your gut you had a really bad feeling.

“Hey! I’m Natasha, but everyone calls me Nat... I know you don’t know me, but you can trust me...”

she looked back at the alphas

“ I would let anyone hurt you! I’m going to take you over to my house at the village and get your wounds looked at, okay?”

She was waiting for your consent and you just nodded and followed her. She opened the door of the vehicle.

You collapsed into the large seat in the back as the red head opened a bag and pulled out a blanket. She wrapped it over shoulders as she sat next to you.

Nat nodded to the driver who looked at the back seat waiting for further instructions. “ We’re good to go Clint!”

As the vehicle wheeled away you could see both the alphas through the rear view window. You could see their lookups moving, but couldn’t make up what they were saying. They both took one last longing look at you as the vehicle disappeared from their line of sight.

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

Bucky's POV

His head hit the ground hard! He could feel the crispness of dried blood in his face , his body ready to give in and pass out. He still propped himself up with his elbows, and faced his friend Steve. Both beaten and covered in their own blood, the fight had left their bodies some time ago, but the underlying rage was still there!

Steve collapsed to his knees from exhaustion and now lay next to Bucky, both contemplating their next words, unmoving and exhausted.

“Why her?”

Bucky didn’t wanna give Steve too much to read into his answer. He didn’t need to let Steve know that he’d been in love with this girl since before he could grow a beard.

The air was surrounded by the sound of his gasps for air and lips smacking before he spoke

“ I found her, and she seemed fine, I thought we’d make camp...start coming down in the morning... but then” the flashbacks of her laying in his arms covered in her own blood gasping for air plagued his thoughts” she was going to die! “

he faced Steve “ I couldn’t let her suffer! I... I couldn’t think of anything else besides the bite”

Bucky was distraught with what he'd done, and Steve could tell !

“It saved her life... bought her time!”

Steve knew his best friend. Bucky had never been a liar, he’d suffered since his accident, and Steve knew not to pressure him into talking about things he didn’t want to talk about. Deep down he knew that Bucky wasn’t trying to hurt him, or her!

The choice he made made him feel like he had no control over his instincts, but Steve knew his best friend couldn’t leave anybody behind. That’s just the way Bucky was, He’d do whatever it took to get the job done and get everyone home safe. Even if it was impulsive and even if they now had to deal with the consequences.

“I’ll make some calls!” Steve pushed himself up and offered a hand to his brother to fell him off the ground.

“There has to be a way of undoing it

... Im sure of it!” Hands on his hips he turned to face Bucky.

“And what if there isn’t? “ Bucky was met with silence, he knew they couldn’t afford to think of the what if.

Even if it broke Bucky's heart, and he had to sell his soul for it, he’d find her a way out!

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

She woke up in a strange place! The events of the previous hours coming back to her, she realized she’d probably fallen asleep in the car.

“Ohhh good you’re awake! “ Nat appeared from the other room carrying a kettle and from her pockets pulling out a few bags of tea.

“Earl grey? It always helps with my nerves” she smiled at her, she felt as if Nat felt pity for her.

“No thank you! Im still a little dizzy if I’m being honest! “ She looked around the house. This was definitely not her old worn down cabin, Nat was a practical woman by appearance, but lacked nothing when it came to decoration.

Her house was painted an emerald green with floor to ceiling windows, white trims, and a fluffy grey couch. It was almost out of a story!It reminded her of the fancy manors she’d read about, and Nat definitely looked like royalty. The emerald also suited her hair perfectly!

“What’s going to happen to me? “ She asked nat, catching her off guard mid tea sip.

Nat lowered herself down on the couch next to her and leaned against the back using her angled right hand for support.

“We don’t know yet! Steve is trying to make some calls and see if the mating can be undone... “

her eyes lit up!

“ Undone by who?” Nat stood up and walked over to a marbled golden desk in the corner of the room, she opened a drawer and pulled out a large piece of paper. Yellow in tint and covered in black ink, where intricate drawings of the surrounding areas along with habitants. She’s never known how big the world was outside of her little cabin, and hunting grounds.

“This map shows all villages surrounding us...” she pointed at different ones and carefully explained their contributions to the treaty.

Humans took to the majority of the land, outnumbering the packs! They made little to no contact except for commodities, and medicines at nearby cities.

The treaty was an alliance of villages coming together to benefit from each other’s resources. The Wendigo's provided moose and large game, the Kitsune's traded spices and wool. There was another werewolf pack about a day's drive, they provided weapons and within their pack was a coven.

Nat drew her fingers through the sketch along the coven. They were ancient magic users! Most of us had lost the ability to shift as generations went on. Only enhanced abilities, and designations were left for most, except for the witches. They still had their full abilities and the protection they needed to practice in peace.

“If anyone can break the bond it’s them, but favors like this will cost the village some people” Nat explained, the Lycan's role In the treaty.

They provided protection!

Warriors to ward off enemies from other coasts, and humans that wanted to take land by force. If a fight needed to be fought Steve sent people to fight, but with the decline in numbers it was getting risky to send people out.

The energy in the room got tense at the thought of sacrificing people for her own sake. It made her feel immensely guilty that she didn’t even know these people that well and they were willing to risk their lives for her.

Clearing her throat and standing up to walk around the room, she explored with her eyes as she spoke ”how’s my mom?” She had been so caught up in her own emotions that she’d forgotten her mother must’ve been going crazy looking for her. Her voice cracked with panic “ Does she know I’m here?”

“Yes! Steve offered her a place here, but she declined. Winnifred said she’d check up on her as much as she can''

Nat grabbed her hands and looked at her eyes “ You have nothing to be scared about, you’re family! We’re sorry it all happened like this! I know you’re confused as to why you’re here, but Steve’s great guy I promise! I know things seem rushed right now, but we’re here to help you fit in”

She still felt as if she had no answers! Why was she so important to them? Surely they had more omega’s like her. Or maybe not... why else would they be fighting for and over her.

“Am I the only ...? “ she pointed to herself in a way that made Nat chuckle and snort a bit.

“Omega?”

“Yes!”

“ I know it’s a lot of pressure, but in a way .You’re the pack's hope.Steve thinks you and him can give the pack some...”

Nat stopped on her tracks and gave her a half hearted glance ” I'm sorry! I know it sounds horrible when I say it like that! You’re a person not a breeding mule!

“No, it’s okay! My mom told me story’s of omegas. It’s kinda what I was made for...that explains this! “ She pointed to her healing bite wound.

“ the wrong alpha claimed me!”

She thought about Bucky, that feeling in the back of her head was still there. It hummed to her like a lullaby, she couldn’t see him, but she felt him. She wondered if he felt the same way too, could they communicate like this or were they just on an emotional two way phone call.

Thinking about her bond with Bucky felt so reassuring, but so wrong! She’s supposed to be discontent with it, but it’s her Bucky. No matter how hard she’d tried she could never be mad at him.

Tags:@dottirose @tanyaherondale @iloveshawnieboi @marmite79

@austynparksandpizza @nerdgirljen @exposition-belongs-somewhere @patzammit @connie326 @blessedwedgie

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #alpha bucky x omega reader #alpha steve x omega reader #alpha bucky #alpha steve rogers #omegaverse #omega reader #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #Bucky AU

96 notes · View notes

bagadew · 3 years

Text

The Great Ace Attorney Playthrough: The Adventure of the Great Departure (Part 3)

Last Time: We finally found Miss Brett, the English woman who’s present had been erased from the scene of the crime, and dragged her ass to court only to discover that she was a Massively Racist Bitch in a swan hat. After a lot of back and forth it became clear that Dr Watson Wilson actually died of poisoning, and that Miss Brett took advantage of the fact Japan currently doesn’t do autopsy reports to shoot his corpse in the chest and frame me (Ryunosuke) for the murder. Fortunately for us Hosonaga took the bottle from the crime scene, and after needlessly translating Miss Brett for the last hour (and presumably filtering out a lot of questionable content) was only to happy to produce it for the court. Unfortunately for us the poison wasn’t in the bottle, so it’s up to a lady in pink to save the day!

I’m going to roundhouse kick Auchi

I’m liking how everyone else in this room is just as done with Auchi as I am

Our saviour Ryunosuke, that’s who

Oh, that’s not a glass

Is it about poisons?

It is!

Ok so I’m pretty sure that Curare is incredibly powerful and fast acting poison (which lines up with what we know). Unfortunately I think it needs to be injected but I might be mixing it up with something else.

Susato’s actually given me the report now, which is probably a much more sensible way of getting information (rather than me trying to remember what I’ve picked up from Agatha Christie novels), and unfortunately it looks like I remembered correctly about it needing to be injected.

(Side note: how alarming is it that I’ve retained this much knowledge on poisons? I feel the need to explain that I’ve been reading and listening to audio dramatisation of Agatha Christie novels since I was about three, but I feel like that makes it worse)

What is curious though is it’s potential use as an anaesthetic. Given that Dr Wilson had just had a tooth removed with anaesthetic I wonder if there’s a connection there?

I’m not sure what it could be though, unless it turns out Miss Brett Weekend at Berniesed his corpse all the over way from the clinic.

GET HER ASS RYUNOSUKE!!!

Actually wait...

GET HER ASS JUDGE!!!

Auchi if we were to run this courtroom on things you know about we’d be running a kindergarten.

Auchi, you’d never even heard of Curare until I told you about it, be quiet while the grownups are talking.

Yeah, Curare is not a nice poison.

I’m not going to post the full explanation here, but wow, Kazuma’s really going all out with his description!

Also it looks like I misunderstood about it needing to be injected. Everyone’s saying that it can just be swallowed, which I guess that makes sense given how deadly it is.

Miss Brett’s being a bitch again (but what else is new) and Kazuma’s taking none of your shit and telling her that the feeling’s mutual. (Something I would have screenshot, but I was too busy calling Kazuma a legend to press the little square button.)

I knew it, it was only in the glass.

Yeah, now try it again from the glass you took.

Don’t worry Ryunosuke, I got this!

It’s ok Kazuma! Believe in me (Ryunosuke) and our beautiful friendship!

It astounds me too Kazuma, but for once I’m on to something!

Kazuma, please stop saying foreboding things, I need you to survive the next case and you’re already not being helped by the fact that you’re so much better than me. You’re so good you kind of render me, the protagonist, a little bit obsolete in fact.

PENALISED!

I guess I was wrong then! That bottle does somehow contain poison.

Yes Kuzuma, because I’m going to be penalised otherwise!

OH FUCK I’VE GOT IT!!!

I UNDERSTOOD CORRECTLY THE FIRST TIME!!!

IT DOES NEED TO BE PUT INTO THE BLOODSTREAM!!!

AND THE DOCTOR HAD A GAPING WOUND IN HIS MOUTH!!!

WHICH MISS JEZAILLE BRETT ADMITTED SHE KNEW ABOUT!!!

It’s finally time!

Let’s get her!

He’s got it!

GET HER ASS RYUNOSUKE!!!

She’s cracking!

Is it hatred Ryunosuke?

Ah no, my mistake - it’s lawyer rage conviction!

I know I’ve said this a lot but...

GET HER ASS RYUNOSUKE!!!!!!!!!!

HE DID THE THING!!!!!!!!

WE’RE USING HER OWN WORDS AGAINST HER

AND IT FEELS SO GOOD!

Oh good... she’s started laughing

Oh no. We’ve set things into motion haven’t we.

Kazuma, I can’t stress enough how important it is for you to take care of yourself in the case to come.

SHE’S DESTROYING THE EVIDENCE!

You can’t do that!

Oh who am I kidding, this lady’s been dancing on privilege since she walked in.

Oh Ryunosuke I think she might have done...

I knew she felt like an end of game villain!

Auchi’s about to catch these hands!

Kazuma’s telling us to step into our mind palace.

‘Is Kazuma right’, he thinks, as he remembers the blood on the plate.

I don’t know Ryunosuke? Is water wet?

You got it Kazuma!

I mean to be fair it did only just happen.

DID HE STEAL THE PLATE?!?

YES HOSONAGA!!!

YOU BEAUTIFUL GENIUS!!!

I do genuinely love these moments in Ace Attorney though. When everyone works as one to get some untouchable big fry. There’s something very rewarding about the whole thing.

Shit... she swapped it out...

Fortunately my man Hosonaga has everyone’s plates though!

Cheer up Ryunosuke, look, we have steak blood at least. And I’m sure Hosonaga’ll bring us the rest of the plates if we ask nicely. Especially after Miss Brett broke his bottle.

Miss Brett’s now making racist statements again.

But at least I’ve been given the steak to examine!

Bless you Kazuma

Ryunosuke what short of cats have you been looking at!

Get his ass (affectionately) Kazuma!

THE STOLEN COIN!!!

I KNEW SHE SWAPPED THEM!!!

(Also it looks like I was right about it being stolen by Nosa)

Didn’t know that was there, did you Miss Brett?

Now, dig your own grave with your words!

Now it’s time to dob Nosa in it. Sorry Nosa but you were kind of a jerk. Look on the bright side though, now’s your chance to redeem yourself in my eyes, like Hosonaga has!

Old man Korekuna’s armed and pissed!

Nosa I’m sorry. It’s best to throw yourself on his mercy now before I rile him up more. Use your baby to calm him if you must.

NICE CATCH NOSA!

I take everything back, Nosa your complete safe, old man Korekuna has no idea how to use that thing.

Ah, I forgot he was proficient in vase!

(Which I forgot to screenshot)

Never mind Nosa, you’re still screwed!

That is the right face to pull (Nosa not Hosonaga):

Look at him in the corner there. I feel bad now.

It was theft wasn’t it?

...oh Nosa what have you done?

(Kept food on his kids plate probably, given how he can’t afford childcare)

Nosa’s now accusing his infant son of being the mastermind... Sure Nosa, everyone’s bying that.

Either accusing a baby is a panic response, or I don’t need to feel so bad anymore.

Hosonaga how did you not immediately catch this guy?

HE SLIPPED THE COIN UNDER THE STEAK SO IT WOULDN’T BE FOUND WHEN HE WAS SEARCHED!

MISS BRETT’S TRYING TO WEASLE HER WAY OUT TO LUNCH AGAIN!

Oh thank god!

I thought for one terrible second we were letting her go.

(I’ve say it before and I’ll probably say it again, this is an intense first case)

Yes! ‘Her’ steak had a big bite mark in it!

But I thought and English Lady like yourself wouldn’t eat steak that way Miss Brett?

Of course, there’s a difference between the two photos.

I knew I could see the glass in the first one, which means it was taken before Miss Brett rearranged the table!

Oh, now Nosa’s saying that he switched the plates.

I must admit I didn’t expect that, I thought it was something Miss Brett did to remove the bloody evidence.

She’s cracking!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

YEEEEAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

IT WAS ALIVE!!!

BABIES!!!

BABIES EVERYWHERE!

Oh god... what’s she planning.

Your honour, she’s already poisoned one person, do you want to be next?

Kiss my ass Miss Brett

Get used to it Auchi.

HAHA!

DAMN KAZUMA

(Editor Note: I am very upset by how poorly my screenshots conveyed Kazuma destroying Auchi’s hairdo with his sword)

Also, were you always hot Kazuma?

Wait no - I can’t be thinking that. The bar for fictional men I like is the floor and if I want Kazuma to continue to live a long, happy, non morally ambiguous life, I need him to not fall into the category of ‘fictional men I find hot’.

For some reason, I picture it being blue and spiky your honour

Wait what’s this about Kazuma having a mission?

Oh fucking hell, I’ve doomed you to moral ambiguity haven’t I Kazuma?

Thank you for the backhanded compliment your honour!

Ooh, petals rather than confetti, that’s a nice touch!

We did it!!!

And most importantly of all, we’re being praised by Kazuma!

Susato! Our saviour! Has turned up, along with her father: the innocent Professor Mikotoba, who I would like to thank and to reiterate that he could never kill anyone!

Seriously though, what was the relationship between him an Dr Wilson?

Ah ok, I simply just had to click on to find out.

So apparently the two of them worked together in the same hospital in London for a while.

OH MY GOD KAZUMA’S TAKING THE SWORD WITH HIM TO GREAT BRITAIN!!!

YES KAZUMA! F THEM UP!!!

(Also if your journey tragically ends in the customs office there’s a non-dead-Kazuma reason for me to go in your place.)

Oh fuck, she got off didn’t she...

I knew it

Of fucking course...

So basically she’s going to get off with a slap on the wrist. That’s what I’m getting from all of this.

Yep

Ah, but what you’ve failed to understand Kazuma is that the British Government and 99% of those people in power, are hypocritical dirtbags who will change the rules to suit them.

OK TEAM LETS GO GET HER ASS!!!

FINAL BOSS! FINAL BOSS!

Now on to the party with Kazuma!

And also Hosonaga apparently. Who is clinging onto his waiter job even though the case he was investigating is solved. Look like Ryunosuke was right about money being tight.

Hosonaga, do you not have a job anymore?

Were your superiors upset when you said ‘fuck the government’ and bought Miss Brett to us? Or was it your one man forensics team shtick that upsets them?

Oh yeah, we never did find that out did we?

Kazuma Asogi I forbid you from charging me with looking after your sister, of for that matter anything, incase something happens to you!

Fortunatly for us Hosonaga is here! Diving in-front of that Kazuma shaped plot bullet with promises of food!

Ryunosuke over here, taking the cases final moments to roast Hosonaga.

I think we’re even now Satoru, my second favorite character.

I don’t want to click to the next text box.

OH FUCK!

Oh wait, false alarm everyone!

I genuinely thought that the case was going to end with something like: but little did I realize that he never would.

Anyway that’s enough worrying about Kazuma! For now let’s enjoy the fact we’ve finished this bastard hard first case!

We’re moving on to Episode 2: The Adventure of the Unbreakable Speckled Band next!

#tgaa spoilers #tgaa #the great ace attorney #the adventure of the great departure #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asougi #satoru hosonaga #jezaille brett #susato mikotoba #yuujin mikotoba

26 notes · View notes

lunaverseimagine · 4 years

Text

Worth Dying For

Request: Can someone PLEASE make a Fred Weasley imagine where he died defending you at the last battle because he was the only one that knew you were pregnant with George’s baby? @writerinnight

Pairing: George x Reader, platonic!Fred x Reader

Warnings: Major character death, angst, I’ve never written angst like this before and I apologise in advance for any pain caused 👀

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: @flyingserpxnt @pcseidcnsvoid @cherrycolakxsses @justanotherblondeday @schlongbottom @wand3ringr0s3 @hemmoporro Join a taglist through the link in my bio <3

Fic:

You had so many mixed emotions when you looked at the test. Your hand flew to your mouth and tears filled your eyes. Butterflies went crazy in your stomach. You were going to bring a baby into the world. But not the sort of world you’d pictured when you imagined this moment. You allowed yourself a couple of minutes to absorb the information before taking some deep breaths and wiping the tears from your eyes. As you opened the bathroom door you collided with a firm chest.

“Blimey y/n/n, sorry, I-“ but Fred fell silent as his gaze drifted to the stick in your hand. Your eyes widened and you hid it behind your back, but it was too late. “Y/n... is that what I think it is?”

You debated lying, but there was no point, you wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from him now. Checking the hallway to make sure you were alone, you forced yourself to say the words.

“I’m pregnant.” You looked down at the floor, digging your toes into the carpet, anxiously awaiting his response. Surely Fred would be disappointed that you were pregnant now, that you were bringing a baby into this. But Fred’s arms wrapped around you and he lifted you off the ground.

“Merlin’s beard y/n/n, that’s brilliant! Georgie’s gonna be so happy-“

“I’m not telling George.” Fred put you down and looked at you with furrowed brows, hands still holding onto your arms as though he didn’t want to let go completely. “Not yet. Tomorrow is just so... huge. I don’t want him distracted or… or worrying about me.”

Seeing the resolve in your eyes, Fred knew there was no changing your mind, so he enveloped you in another hug and mumbled in your ear, “I’ll look out for you, you have my word. But If it’s going to be a secret you might want to stop waving that stick around.” You slapped him lightly, but hid the test in your pocket nonetheless.

You and George stood side by side, the rest of your families not far away, a united team. It was the calm before the storm, and the castle was completely silent. You couldn’t believe that this used to be your school, your home. Soon to be a battleground, inevitably covered in bloodshed. A shiver ran down your spine before you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Now, more than ever before in your life, you needed to focus. You observed the grey skies, the cold bite to the air, as you listened, waiting for any sign of movement.

Something brushed against your fingers and you jumped, your hold on your wand tightening, before realising it was George. “Sorry love.” he whispered as he clasped your hand in his own and squeezed it reassuringly. You squeezed back, leaning in to him so that the side of your body was flush with his. George, your George, your boyfriend of 6 years and the soon-to-be father of your baby. You sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening, asking that you, George, and bump would survive.

“I love you Georgie.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but in the silence he heard you perfectly.

“I love you too y/n.” You could see the fear in his eyes, watched as he bounced his leg and looked nervously around. You pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, lips lingering on the stubbly skin.

Suddenly the shields surrounding the castle began to break, and the scene turned to utter chaos. You and George stood back to back, casting spells at death eaters, constantly scanning your surroundings in case anyone needed backup. Fred had joined you so you were now standing in a triangle, fighting enemies on all sides.

The battle was a blur, flashes of red and green all around, shouts and screams filling your ears. Pushing down thoughts of the baby, thoughts of George, and of everyone else you wanted to protect, you focused instead on what you could see, on what you could do. That is, until the moment time seemed to slow down. The moment when three death eaters apparated in front of you. You knew there was no way you’d win against all of them, but dammit you would not go down without a fight. As you lifted your wand to disarm the death eater closest to you, all three of them raised their wands, pointing them directly at you. You heard the words forming on their lips, seeming to take an eternity, words that haunted your worst nightmare. Words you had hoped never to hear in your lifetime.

“Avada-”

You watched a mess of ginger hair in front of you.

“NO!” Your mouth formed the word, feeling disconnected from the rest of you.

You watched his arms spread wide to shield you

“Expelliarmus!” You cast, disarming one of the three evil people threatening the life of those you held dearest.

You watched as he disarmed another one, doing his best to protect you just like he promised.

“Kedavra.”

You watched as he crumpled to the floor in front of you, revealing the last death eater stood before him, the one responsible for taking his life.

You cast the curse back at him, not that you needed to because your scream had attracted attention, and curses were firing at him from all sides.

You fell to your knees next to Fred, letting out a scream that came from the depths of your lungs, your soul. You felt George beside you, turning to see him stare blankly at the lifeless face of his twin, of his other half. George was looking but not seeing, not registering, until suddenly he did, and he grabbed Fred’s hand.

“No no no no, Freddie, wake up, wake up, it’s me, it’s George.” His voice was breaking, and you cradled his head, brought it to rest in your chest as you held him, tears streaming down your face. “It’s George, you know, like Forge? Gred? I can’t be Forge or Gred on my own, I can’t do it, you have to wake up, you have to.” You clutched George tightly but his hands still held Fred’s cold one, refusing to let it go, refusing to believe that he could be gone. “You have to. You have to.”

The battle raged on around you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, George had to know. He had to know why this happened.

“I-” the words caught in your throat, it was so painful, your heart was aching, but George needed to know. “I know why he did it.” George lifted his head, glazed, bloodshot eyes meeting yours.

“What?”

“He- he jumped in front of me because otherwise- otherwise it would’ve been me-” at this thought your chest constricted and you had to fight to breathe, “and he didn’t want that because I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant Georgie, and he knew.” The last bit came out as a mere whisper, but George was hanging on to every word, trying to make sense of it all.

“You’re- you’re pregnant?” You merely nodded. George finally found the courage to let go of his twin’s hand, holding on to you for support because there was no way he could do this on his own, he needed you, his lifeline. He buried his face in your chest in an attempt to ground himself, and you clutched onto him, not daring to let go. The two of you rocked back and forth, unable to process the severity of the situation.

His family, his parents started to realise what had happened and were coming towards you, but you couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces, so you pressed your face on top of George’s head, kissing him because he’s still alive and Fred isn’t and it’s not fair and your baby’s dad is alive and his uncle isn’t.

You stayed there for hours, long after the battle ended. You’d won, but at what cost? You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to breathe without feeling the pain in your chest, the weight filling you, reminding you of what Fred had done. What he’d done for you. You couldn’t even imagine the pain George was in, losing half of himself. You didn’t know what the future would look like or how things could ever be ok again. So you did what you could. You held on to George.

End

Edit: There is now a part 2 and I promise it’s happier than this 👀

So... sorry 🥺 If you did enjoy this (or if your heart was broken) please let me know - reblogs and comments do a lot to motivate my writing, and my posts aren’t showing up in tags atm so reblogs are the only way to spread them 💖💖

Also feel free to check out my other stuff (mostly fluff I promise) and my writing challenge. Thank you for reading 💕

301 notes · View notes