#Arena fanfiction

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Ever in our favour... Masterlist

PEETA MELLARK X GN!READER

You wake up with a migraine, surrounded by forests and kids that are more than willing to kill you. What have you fallen into the middle of? And why can't you remember getting here?

Arena fanfiction, cannon-typical violence, descriptions of blood injuries and death, descriptions of a panic attack, temporary memory loss, mentions of familial abuse, depictions of mutated creatures, established relationship, romance, kissing, fluff and angst, minor character deaths, action/adventure

Table of Contents:

Archive of Our Own

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT (FINALE)

#masterlist #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark #the hunger games #fanfiction #gender neutral reader #district 9 reader #Arena fanfiction #cannon-typical violence #descriptions of blood injuries and death #descriptions of a panic attack #temporary memory loss #mentions of familial abuse #depictions of mutated creatures #established relationship #romance #kissing #fluff and angst #minor character deaths #action/adventure

[eldritch-thrumming]

may the odds be ever in your favor.

“Dustin Henderson!” The voice rings out from the front of the crowd, perky and cheerful, like the whole entire town hasn’t been gathered here to watch as two of its children are sent to the slaughter on national television.

Steve’s heart pounds in his chest. Sweat breaks out across his back. Adrenaline pumps through his veins, makes his fingertips throb. Dustin, just a few rows in front of him, turns to look at Steve. He meets Steve’s gaze with tears in his eyes, panicked.

Steve can’t think. He can’t see anything beyond Dustin’s fear.

“I volunteer,” he hears himself yell out. His voice sounds shockingly calm to his own ears. “I volunteer as tribute.”

There’s a murmur in the crowd, a ripple of movement. No one from their district has ever volunteered in the history of the Games. Steve is eighteen. This was his last year participating in the Reaping. He'd almost made it.

The fear doesn’t disappear from Dustin’s face, his eyes round and glassy. Steve is distantly aware that Dustin is yelling, but he can’t hear anything over the rushing in his own ears. A Peacekeeper appears on either side of him and they pull him towards the stage, their hands firm and bruising around his biceps. Steve’s feet drag. He can’t seem to lift them high enough to step on his own. The Peacekeeper’s practically drag him up the steps and onto the raised platform of the stage.

Sam Owens, the tribute escort for their district, is smiling wide, teeth white and blinding in the morning sun. He pats Steve on the back, moves him to center stage with his hands on Steve’s arms.

“District 12’s first volunteer ever!” Owens yells into the microphone. “How exciting! History in the making.”

There’s only silence. Steve’s eyes find Claudia Henderson in the crowd. The look on her face shifts from relief to horror and back again. Even from here, Steve can see the tears on her face, shimmering in the sunlight.

Just then, movement at the back of the crowd of teenagers catches his attention. He spies Nancy in one of the back rows. She isn’t ever included in the Reaping, has never had to sign up for tesserae as the mayor’s daughter, but she always shows. Every year when Steve asks about it, she mumbles something about ‘bearing witness.’

Nancy, beautiful in her expensive wool dress, dark hair curled and pinned out of her face, raises her left hand. She presses the fingertips of her first three fingers to her lips before raising her arm high into the air.

Steve watches in fascination as the crowd shifts, shuffling in place, before lifting their own hands and mirroring Nancy’s salute. Steve swallows, breathes deep for the first time in what feels like hours.

Owens’s smile falters, but only slightly. “Right. Now for the girls.” He moves to the large glass bowl, hand circling, fingertips reaching. He pulls a tiny folded paper from the bowl. His hands are quick and sure as he breaks the seal, glancing down at the name. “Robin Buckley!”

The crowd shifts again. Steve feels his lungs collapse in his chest. He focuses in on where Robin stands at the center of the crowd of girls. Her mouth hangs open, her blue eyes huge in her pale face. Steve feels as if his knees are about to give out, wobbly and weak, but he somehow manages to keep his balance. He sees Nancy—just beyond Robin—barely react, but doesn’t miss the way her jaw tightens and her fists clench at her sides, knows her well enough by now to read her tells. The crowd parts as Robin slowly makes her way towards the stage. Owens pulls Robin by her hands, positions her so she stands shoulder to shoulder with Steve.

Steve feels like he might lose consciousness at any moment. His stomach turns, throat constricting. His vision goes dark around the edges.

He can’t bring himself to look over at Robin, knows he’ll lose control if he does, but he feels the back of her hand brush against his, feels her pinky curling around his. He has to bite back a sob and looks down at his feet, breathing deep through his nose.

Everything becomes a blur. Time seems to simultaneously slow down and speed up. Peacekeepers flank Robin and Steve as Owens leads them toward the Justice Building. They only have so much time before they’re forced onto a train bound for the Capitol, will only have a handful of minutes to say goodbye to everyone they’re leaving behind.

Once they make it to the Justice Building, they’re led into a wood-paneled sitting room with overstuffed armchairs and too many throw pillows. Steve’s head is starting to pound, temples throbbing. He feels a heavy pressure behind his eyes and he falls onto a couch in the center of the room. He leans his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He pushes his palms against his skull. He’s vaguely aware of Robin perched on the cushion next to him, spine ramrod straight, both feet planted firmly on the floor. Her hands twist in her lap.

Steve isn’t sure how long they sit there before the door opens and Dustin comes rushing toward him. Claudia Henderson follows closely behind her son. Robin’s parents bring up the rear.

“Steve, are you stupid? Why would you do that?” Dustin screeches at him, flinging his arms around Steve’s neck—practically tackling Steve into the cushions—and holding on for dear life. Steve can’t respond to him, throat suddenly dry. All he can do is bring his arms tight around Dustin, returning his hug. Several long moments pass before Dustin finally releases him. He looks so young, face red and blotchy. He brings his sleeve up to wipe at his nose and something in Steve fractures as he watches him.

Steve looks at Claudia, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. He stands from the couch and opens his arms to her. She practically falls into him, winding her arms around his waist. “Don’t let him watch,” he tells her, voice low so Dustin won’t hear. He feels his own burning tears spill from the corners of his eyes. They only have a few moments together. “Promise me. Please. He can’t watch.”

Claudia lets out a sob, but Steve can feel her nod against him. “I promise. Come back to us. Promise to fight, Steve,” she whispers, so only Steve can hear. Steve breathes in deep, smells the floral perfume she only wears three times a year on special occasions, the one that reminds him of warm hugs and home.

“Promise,” Steve whispers back.

The visitors are ushered out of the room and Steve is finally able to look at Robin. Her eyes are bright, shiny with tears, but she hasn’t cried, not yet. She has that look on her face, the one Steve recognizes as determination. The one she wears when they decide to break Capitol rules and hike out into the woods, into the bright sunny clearing by the stream where her quick fingers work on building her traps while Steve sharpens his arrow- and spearheads. All they can do is stare at each other.

Someone knocks softly on the door, breaking the spell between them. They both jump and turn toward the sound as the heavy door creaks open. Nancy steps through.

Her face is swollen and her eyes are red-rimmed, but her bottom lip is firm and her head is held high. She has something clutched in her hand.

She crosses the room to where they sit. She kneels in front of them on the patterned carpet. She grabs at Steve’s hand with her free one, pressing whatever’s in the other into Robin’s palm.

“You’re allowed one token from home in the arena,” Nancy’s voice comes out low and quick. “Will you wear this?” Robin looks down at her hand, turns over a gold pin. Steve can’t quite see what it is, thinks it might be the shape of a bird.

Robin nods, gaze lifting to meet Nancy’s.

“Stick together,” Nancy tells them. “Promise. That’s what will get you through the Games. Trust no one but each other. They want a show. Give them one. I—just—” She clearly wants to say more, but she bites her lip, shaking her head. Her curls bounce. “Just. Keep each other safe. Stay alive.” As she says it, a single tear falls from her eye. She abandons her grip on Steve’s hand to wipe it away angrily. “Promise,” she demands.

“Promise,” Robin’s voice comes out a hoarse whisper. “We promise, Nance.” Her fingers curl around the gold pin.

Nancy wraps them both in firm but quick hugs before she leaves the room without a backward glance.

~*~

Robin and Steve are left alone for what feels like hours but can really only be a few minutes before being driven to the train that will transport them to the Capitol. Owens leads them into the lavish train car, where the District 12 mentor, Murray Bauman, already sits.

“Well,” he says, smiling grimly, arms open wide. “What beautiful and brave tributes we have this year.” He takes a swig from the bottle clutched in his hand.

Neither Robin nor Steve speak, they just move toward the seats opposite Murray, dropping down onto the plush cushions in tandem. Steve’s head is still pounding, exhaustion making his arms feel heavy.

Steve must fall asleep sitting up, because the next thing he knows, he wakes to a moving train and dark windows. Robin is no longer next to him. He hears murmuring and glances around, finding Robin and Murray huddled together in a corner, heads close.

Steve clears his throat, sitting up straight. The two of them glance toward him. Robin gives him a tight smile, small and strained. Murray’s grin is wider, but no more happy than Robin’s.

“What’d I miss?” Steve mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. He runs a hand through his hair.

“Talking strategy,” Murray tells him. “Come join the party.” He pats the seat of the chair next to him.

Steve pushes himself from his seat and crosses the small space, dropping heavily into the wooden chair.

“I was asking Murray about finding shelter in the arena,” Robin says softly, like she can tell that Steve’s head is still killing him, despite his nap.

“Right. So?” Steve turns toward Murray.

“So your first priority is surviving long enough that you’ll even need shelter,” Murray replies. “The first few moments in the arena are the deadliest. Absolutely brutal. The Careers will rush the Cornucopia and unprepared tributes will be picked off one by one. Don’t get caught up in the bloodbath.”

Steve thinks that they probably should take everything Murray says with a massive grain of salt. He and Robin hadn’t even been alive when Murray had won the 50th Games almost 25 years ago, but it was common District knowledge that he’d only won as a fluke, because of stupid mistakes other tributes had made and not because of any strategic prowess on his part. Now, Murray was mostly known as the town drunk, who spent his winnings at the only pub in town and more often than not made a fool of himself as he stumbled through the streets before the miners had even broken for lunch.

Steve and Robin share a look.

“No, stop, what’s that?” Murray says pointing between them. His gaze jumps from Steve to Robin and back again.

“What’s what?” Robin asks, genuine confusion coloring her voice.

“That look. Are you… can you read each other’s minds?” The last part is said in a fascinated whisper.

“You’re drunk, old man,” Steve says, rolling his eyes and scowling. Murray is getting on his last nerve already.

“You’re not wrong, kid.” Murray smiles and takes another pull from the bottle in his hand.

Steve sighs. “We should probably call it a night. It’s been a long day. We can reconvene when our heads are clearer.” He gives Murray a pointed look.

“My head is plenty clear,” Murray slurs.

“Right. Get some sleep,” Steve tells both Robin and Murray. “And drink some damn water.” The last part is directed at their mentor.

Murray salutes them both before disappearing from the train car, wandering off to his bed.

Robin and Steve stand in silence.

“Well, goodnight, Steve,” Robin whispers into the space between them. Her voice sounds small in a way it so rarely does. Steve can’t help but reach out a hand to her, pulling her into his chest before she goes of to bed. She sags against him, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

“We’ll figure it out, Rob,” he mumbles into her hair, dropping a kiss to the crown of her head. “We always do.”

Robin sniffles and pulls away, rubbing a hand over her face. “Yeah. We always do.”

She gives him one last look before following Murray out of the train car.

I made a post a lil while ago abt a Steddie x Hunger Games AU because Hunger Games was all over my for you page for whatever reason. Here’s a take on it. This will likely continue BUT I do not do tag lists. I’m sorry! They give me anxiety 🌝 hope you like it!

#Nancy is already working w rebels at this point #she knows they’re planning to break into the arena during the games and hopes it’ll be in time to save Steve and Robin #Eddie and Max are tributes from district 6 #and they will all live!!!! #Murray is a conspiracy theorist and suspects that Steve and Robin are capitol mutts w telepathy lol that have been planted in the district #to infiltrate the games. he’s wrong of course but he’s also drunk so can u blame him #eventual steddie #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #robin buckley #ronance #stobin platonic soulmates #platonic stobin #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #Steddie x hunger games au #hunger games au #also it has been literal years since I read/watched the hunger games lol

[navybrat817]

Spoils of War

Pairing: Gladiator!Steve Rogers x Female Reader, mention of Dark Advisor!Andy Barber x Female Reader Summary: Steve gets a reward for a job well done and wishes he could have been with you under different circumstances. Word Count: Over 3k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Noncon references (do NOT read if this upsets you), Dubcon elements (reader consents with Steve), vaginal unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), possessive behavior, dirty talk, talks of violence, captivity, servitude, dark themes, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?) A/N: Here we go with The Arena! Please heed the warnings with each post for this AU as there will be dark elements throughout. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Steve Rogers believed in doing the right thing. Even as a young boy, he didn't allow his small size to let bullies push him, or others, around. As long as he could get up, he would fight. He carried that idealism throughout his life. It was why he chose to work with S.H.I.E.L.D..

But he no longer fought for the greater good.

The cheers from the arena rang in his ears as he closed his eyes, the water from the showerhead washing the blood and grime away. It wouldn't take away the guilt that ate at his soul. He was meant to save people, not take their lives away. How was he reduced to being a puppet for the demented masses?

One day, he would be free.

Today, he would savor the spoils of war.

"You've done well, Captain Rogers. A prize is long overdue."

Steve dried off moments later and kept a towel around his waist as he waited for you. He didn't have to wait much longer. The cell door opened long enough to shove you inside, anger boiling in his gut when you almost fell to your knees.

"Break her and Barber will kill you," the guard threatened.

Andy Barber. His former colleague. Your master.

"Should I tell him you nearly made her fall on her face or do you want to do that yourself?"

The guard didn't respond, but had the decency to look afraid before he slammed the door and left the two of you alone.

Steve watched as you straightened up and carefully glanced around the room. The cell HYDRA kept him in was comfortable enough. A small bathroom, a nice bed, and a desk so he could draw. Charcoal only, as they didn't allow him to have anything he could use to harm them. They also refused to let him have a cell near Bucky, afraid they would conspire against the guards and break free.

Even if he did have a weapon with him, he wouldn't use it on you.

His prize.

"Would you like to sit down?" he asked, bringing your gaze toward him.

This was the first time he had seen up close since the day everything went to hell. You were still beautiful, but there was sorrow in your eyes that hadn't been there before. The lacy red and black lingerie set did little to cover you, so different from the office clothes he typically saw you in. He wondered if you shivered slightly from the cold or fear.

"Yes. Thank you, Captain," you answered, offering him a small smile as you made your way to the foot of the bed.

You still had the same smile.

"Don't call me that," he said harsher than he intended to. "I'm not your Captain anymore."

He failed as Captain America. HYDRA captured you, Bucky, and countless others because he hadn't taken them down. It seemed like they only referred to him by his title to taunt him. Was he ever worthy of the shield?

Your smile slipped away as you sat down and lowered your gaze. "I'm sorry, sir."

Steve immediately wanted to pull you into his arms and apologize. You weren't in his cell for more than two minutes and he took his frustration out on you. He hadn't meant to.

"You don't need to apologize. I'm sorry for taking that tone with you. Steve or sir are both fine, sweetheart," he said, his towel slipping further down his hips as he walked toward you. "Or would you prefer I call you by your name?"

"You can call me whatever you want."

The words sounded rehearsed.

You looked up at him when his warm hand cradled your jaw, surprising him when you didn't recoil. He wondered what you saw as you looked into his eyes. A murderer? A monster?

"Why did you ask for me?" you asked.

"Because I was told I could have a reward for a job well done," he told you.

You narrowed your eyes. "Why me specifically?"

Rewards were typically in the form of a mistress since fighters couldn't ask for their freedom, or challenge anyone in charge to a battle. Mistresses were usually sent from the harem and not taken directly from one of the advisors or generals. It was only natural that you'd ask why.

"You belong to Andy Barber," he stated to gauge your reaction.

You flinched, your eyes flashing with something akin to offense and fury, but you didn't pull free from Steve's grasp. From what he gathered, you weren't a willing mistress to Andy. You knelt beside him at every match he could remember and never said a word. Advisors and Generals loved to show off their possessions. Requesting you as his prize for doing such a good job in the arena pissed Andy off, but he couldn't deny him.

A pet having power or sway over a master isn't allowed.

But unlike Andy, Steve's intentions weren't to harm or force himself on you.

If he thought for a moment that you were a willing participant in this, your reaction told him otherwise. "I don't belong to anyone."

"I wasn't trying to offend you," he promised, keeping his hand on you as he took a seat beside you. "How does he treat you?"

You hesitated before you answered. "Sometimes he fucks me like he loves me."

He ran a thumb across your cheek when a tear fell from your eye, rage surging through his veins. Even though you didn't bear any physical scars like him and the other fighters, you no doubt had wounds on the inside. Forced into sexual servitude would be enough to hurt the strongest of people. But the flicker of fire in your eyes, you still had some fight in you. It comforted him that they didn't break you.

"Did he do something to you? Is this some sort of payback?" you guessed.

"He did, but I didn't ask for you to get back at him," he said.

He wouldn't have asked for Andy's mistress if it was anyone other than you.

"I don't know why you're asking how he treats me. At the end of the day, I'm just his whore," you said, eying him warily. "And tonight, I'm yours."

He shook his head, bringing his other hand up to cup both cheeks. "You're not a whore."

He wished you could be his girl.

Maybe in another life.

"Then I don't understand why I'm here if you're not going to use me," you said, confusion filling your beautiful eyes. "I'm nobody."

"You worked on the 3rd floor," he said, tracing his finger along your bra strap when you gasped. "You had a cardigan on the back of your chair and the background on your computer matched whatever season we were in. You kept to yourself, but offered a small, kind smile whenever someone looked your way or jumped in to help without anyone asking. You were vital to S.H.I.E.L.D. and you're far from being a nobody."

You moved an inch closer and his gaze fell to your lips. "You knew me?" you asked in disbelief as he nodded. "I-I never thought anyone as high up as you would've noticed me."

"Of course, I did. I was just too stupid to say anything then," he replied, smiling sadly when he wiped another tear away.

Would it have made this situation better? Worse? Dwelling on "what if" would do more harm than good.

“So, you asked for me because you wanted to see me? You care?”

He let out a breath as he nodded. “I had to see for myself that you’re okay. Well, as okay as you can be given the circumstances,” he said.

There were so many things he wanted to say. That he was sorry a man like Andy ever got his hands on you. That he didn’t want you to give up hope. Why wouldn’t the words come out?

"I didn't think anyone cared," you said, lightly tracing a tiny scar on his arm. Something in your expression shifted from uncertainty to seductive as you leaned in closer. "But that shouldn't surprise me. You're a good man."

He placed a hand on your lips to stop you before you kissed him. Yes, he asked for you to be here, but he didn't want you to feel forced to do this. “No, sweetheart. I’m not going to use you.”

The point of his confession, or whatever he could call it, wasn't to make you give in to him. He needed you to know you did mean something to someone. You weren't alone in this.

“Is it using me if I’m offering?” you countered when he lowered his hand, giving you the chance to lean in to pepper his jaw with soft kisses. He didn’t stop you this time. “Unless you don’t want me.”

Steve wanted you. God, he wanted you, but he wouldn’t take from you the way Andy did. Even when you placed a hand on his thigh, your touch light and heavenly, he had to resist. HYDRA reduced him to a killer, he refused to sink any lower.

“I know you won’t hurt me,” you said, leaning back and reaching behind you to unhook your bra. He didn’t mean to groan when you took it off, but your breasts on display had his heart pounding against his ribs. Your nipples were hard and he hadn’t even properly touched you. “Like I said, you're a good man.”

Steve’s hands fell to your hips when you straddled him, his cock twitching beneath the towel. Was it wrong to give in if you wanted it? But did you actually want him? Were you acting on instinct? Orders?

“How am I a good man if I’m taking advantage of you?” he tried to argue when you pushed your hips down.

“You aren’t. You're giving me a choice and I'm choosing to give myself to you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want to forget even if it’s just for tonight.”

He wanted to forget, too. He didn’t want to see the blood that stained his shield or the life leaving the eyes of the bodies that fell. What he wouldn’t give to have a beer with Bucky after a mission gone well. Or take you out on a proper date.

“I’m your prize, Steve. So take it.”

The last shred of hesitation inside him snapped when he fastened his lips against yours. You went pliant against him, opening your mouth for him to take what he wanted. It wasn’t how he wanted your first kiss with him to be, but it made him dizzy nonetheless.

He didn’t break the kiss as he rolled you over, spreading you out on your back to slide in between your thighs. He swallowed down the small sound you made before he gave you both a chance to catch your breath. The sight of you gazing up at him made him lose his breath again.

“Please,” you whispered, shuddering as he moved his calloused hands up your legs.

He heard people beg before, but not like this. You would be his salvation. He hoped he could be yours, too.

Torn between kissing up your thighs or diving right in, he decided to dip a hand between your legs. You shivered again as he pressed his palm against the damp, flimsy fabric. “You’re wet,” he said in awe, gripping the underwear and tearing it away.

Your back arched, sending a shiver down his spine when he saw your eyes glaze over with lust. “For you, Steve.”

For him.

The slide of his first finger made him close his eyes. You were tight and warm and the clench around the digit alone was enough to make his cock twitch. He wondered if you ever got this wet for Andy. Did he prep you? Make you come?

“I’m supposed to take care of you,” you whined when he pushed another finger in.

“Are you my prize, sweetheart?” he asked, spreading and sliding his fingers in and out. He brought his other hand up to your breasts, not wanting to neglect them as he toyed with your pussy. "Are you giving yourself to me?"

“Yes,” you said breathlessly when he pinched a hardened bud, your walls tightening more by the time he added a third finger. “I am.”

“Then let me handle you as I see fit,” the slight command that came out was reminiscent of his days of being a Captain, the very thing he told you not to call him.

“Yes, Sir,” you whimpered, arching your back again when he removed his fingers.

He brought them to his mouth and licked each of them clean, savoring the sweet and tangy flavor of you on his tongue. If he was a better man, he’d take more time with you. Worship every inch of you until you sobbed and begged for more. Later, he’d indulge until all he knew was your taste. Your first orgasm though, he wanted on his cock.

He had to be inside you now.

You blinked and smiled as if you sensed his need. “I’m ready.”

Steve gripped the base of his cock as he settled between your legs. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine you were in his home. He refused to do so. This was the reality you were in and he had to make the most of it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, silencing you with a kiss when you opened your mouth.

You gasped as he lined up with your entrance and slowly slid in. He almost stopped halfway through when you clenched hard around him, but his kisses relaxed you enough to let him in. He never felt anything as good as you and was sure he never would again. He was afraid he’d become addicted.

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered back, sending shivers down his spine when you ran your fingers through his beard. “But it’s okay.”

He began to thrust, unable to take the tenderness in your eyes. In another life, he would’ve been worthy of that gaze and comfort. Now it was survival of the fittest.

“I won’t break,” you moaned, allowing him to take your wrists and pin them over your head. “You can fuck me how you need to.”

“What was it you said?” he asked, driving deeper into you to make you moan louder. “He fucks you like he loves you?”

You choked on your breath when you gazed up at him with fear in your eyes. You blinked it away before he could dwell on it. “Sometimes.”

“You haven’t been fucked by me before,” he grunted, taking your leg to wrap around his hip. “When I send him back to you, you’ll be dripping with me. He'll know you'll never truly be his."

A loud moan escaped when his grip on your wrists tightened, your hips rising to meet his thrusts as he fucked into you. It was easier than he thought to forget the horrors when he was buried inside you. What would he have to do to keep you for more than a night?

You squirmed when he slid his hand between your bodies and sought out your bundle of nerves. “You said you don’t belong to anyone, but here with me, you’re mine,” he said, circling your clit with his thumb. The whine he got in response was otherworldly. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you moaned, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

He wanted to believe it.

“Again,” he gritted. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m yours!”

Your eyes widened when you quivered around him, a gush of wetness flowing around his cock as you cried out. The orgasm seemed to take you by surprise, but he kept up his pace to ride it out. He hoped it would be the first of many. Your face twisted in pleasure was almost enough to send him over the edge.

“Please, Steve,” you moaned brokenly, lying bonelessly beneath him as he buried his face in your neck.

Steve couldn’t resist when you begged so beautifully, letting out a broken sound of his own as he spilled into you. The release had him panting against your skin as finished, trying to remember the last time he experienced ecstasy like that. He desperately tried to hang on, not wanting it to end for either of you.

He pushed himself up to look at you, but didn't pull out, a sense of pride filling him at your fucked out expression. Releasing your wrists, he brought your hands up to wrap around him. He wasn’t expecting to need the comforting touch, but he had to feel your hands on him after what you shared.

Silence stretched on as snuggled close and he thought for a moment that you drifted off when you stayed quiet.

“I don’t want to send you back in the morning,” he admitted, tilting your chin so you'd look at him.

You quietly sniffled as you turned away. “I don’t either, but you have to. Andy is furious enough as it is."

He pulled you in for a hug when you trembled. He wanted to choke the life out of Andy himself. Maybe HYDRA had made him a monster.

“Maybe you can't stay here permanently, but I’ll ask for you again after my next match. I promise.”

He didn’t want you around Andy longer than you had to be.

“So, we meet up after your fights and allow ourselves to keep forgetting? You go back into the fight and I go back to the Advisor quarters?” you asked, your eyes shining as he let you rest against the mattress.

He tilted his head as he studied your face. The blissful expression had determination underneath. Both of you wanted to get out of here, like everyone else. With your position, maybe you could use it to your, and his, advantage.

“I’m a fighter. You’re the mistress of an advisor. I’m sure we can forget and find other uses for our time together,” he said carefully, in case he was reading you incorrectly. “What do you say?”

The smile you gave him was hopeful. “I'm in."

Oh, you don't think it'll be that easy, do you? Not if Andy has his way. 😏 Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #gladiator!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #gladiator!steve rogers #the arena #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you

[imregressingbcofironflame]

I've been kind of off the internet but I just read Powerless by Lauren Roberts and I NEED MORE. But I can't find any fanfiction. If you have any, on any platform (tumblr, ao3, wattpad, whtv), PLS send

#powerless #paedyn gray #kai azer #lauren roberts #powerless fanfiction #i can't deal w that ending #I need fix-it fics #I need fluff when they're not in a freaking hunger games arena #I need closure till july

[emrysthegoodwitch]

I put The Clockwork City into an AI generator.

I love these

#clockwork city #sotha sil #divayth fyr #elder scrolls fanfiction #elder scrolls arena #elder scrolls morrowind #the elder scrolls skyrim #elder scolls online #elderscrolls #elderscrollsdaggerfall #elder scrolls oblivion

[1unar-chaos]

i love tumblr bc this is the only place i can openly talk about persona and other people will understand

anyways we need more yosuke hanamura fanfiction and i hate reading my own writing sooooo

#p4 golden #p4 yosuke #persona 4 #p4g #persona 4 golden #yosuke #yosuke hanamura #p4a #p4 #persona #persona+4 #persona 4 arena #persona 4 arena ultimax #persona4 #yosuke hanamura fanfiction #yu x yosuke #souji x yosuke #shadow yosuke #souyo

[willgrahambf]

artwork credit: “tramoto,” alessia pelonzi / “finding a pulse,” william blake

set me on fire; watch me burn

“That’s a pretty good bedside manner, Dr. Lecter,” Will murmured.

“I’ve never received a complaint,” Hannibal replied without flinching as he smoothed the sheets over Will’s stomach. “Though I am a bit out of practice.”

“It’s like riding a bike.”

Hannibal smiled mildly. “And being my patient? Is that like riding a bike, Will?”

Their eyes finally met again, and Will felt the tickle of danger on his flesh once more that made his breath quicken. He should have been ashamed of himself, but shame — that burden that he had carried for so long — felt far away, a rotting carcass at the bottom of an ocean.

“Something like that,” he said.

[When Will catches a tropical virus, it’s an opportunity for Hannibal to play doctor again — only this time, Will isn’t content to let him hide behind the guise of medicine.]

#hannibal fanfiction #hannigram fanfiction #hannigram #fic :no forts in the bone arena of my skull for the things i love: #hannibalbingo #hannibal bingo

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: The Gods' Arena of Pleasure 1 {Two-Shot}

Superman/Clark Kent/Kal-El x Reader/OFC Bia Dess

Warning: Action, Fighting, Mild Cursing, Backstory Heavy

Words: 4.7k

Synopsis: The city is under yet another attack and guess who comes to the rescue--The Justice League. With their muscle and brawn, and Bia Dess’ brains this new threat doesn’t stand a chance. 

Note: It has been a minute since I’ve written anything Superman/Clark Kent/Kal-El. Hell, anything Henry related. I may be rusty, so bear with me and accept my apologies beforehand. I think this is a one shot. At the time of writing this “note”, which is prior to actually writing the story, I am calling it a two shot. We’ll see. Hehehehehe! Also, I had the hardest time deciding what to call him. I am deadest on getting rid of Clark completely and going with Kal-El. Thoughts?

 ***ALSO, ROUND HERE SUPERMAN HAS AND WILL ALWAYS BE HENRY CAVILL UNLESS HE BECOMES IDRIS ELBA!!!! (I SAID WHAT I SAID)***

 As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate it.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

***Slightly Interactive***

 "Again, Superman has just taken out the legs of this massive, massive alien that looks like some electronic tripod. This is unbelievable!”

 From the television in the packed cafe, you and tens of other people gasped and gawked at the coverage. Superman took a bone shattering hit from the alien figure and was sent at least twenty feet back but in seconds he was zipping through the air right back at it to return the favor and then some. His laser eyes beamed through the creature making it roar out in evident pain. The ground violently shook, and everyone screamed and tried to hold on to something.

 While those around you panicked, a thought occurred to you. For its scream to affect the Earth's surface, that told you that this could work to defeat it. Just then you watched the rest of the Justice League sans Aquaman rally around Superman each doing their part to take down the tripod adjacent creature.

 Another ear-piercing scream shook the cafe and everyone around you exclaimed showing their fear at the current turn of events.

 "Oh my god, look!"

 Everyone pressed close to the window and watched as a second and third tripod creature fell from the sky, each confronting a different justice league member. The one before Diana immediately went into action shooting a laser beam at her. Every molecule in your body fired up craving action. You almost wanted to run out the door and join the fight and you didn’t know why.

 Diana crossed her wrists in front of her blocking the beam with her Thymescarian crafted wrist guards. The beam ricocheted right back to the creature making an impact. Its deafening screech pierced the air and everyone including you covered your ears. The internal anguish you felt was powerful. It felt as if your eardrums vibrated threatening to rupture but the effects went deeper than that. Your internal organs quivered like a hand gripped each of them and squeezed. The effects were sudden but only lasted a moment for you but looking around at the others in the café you realized they were still being affected.

 A thought hit you then, "They’re vulnerable to their own weapons," you rushed out. Without thinking, you hurried out of the cafe and into the streets. Pressing your phone to your ear, you called your assistant Vicara.

 “Vee here.”

 “Vee,” you began but was cut off by another screech from one of the creatures.

 “Holy shit, tell me you’re not in town square right now!”

 “I’m in town square right now.”

 “Jesus Bia, get outta’ there. Aren’t you seeing this fight between Justice League and these creatures?”

 “Vee take a breath and listen to me,” you shouted.

 Across the street something crashed into the structure creating a large explosion sending rubble everywhere. You dived behind a car, covered your head and beared down hoping not to get crushed by the large pieces of rock that rained down.

 “Hello? Hello? Bia!”

 “I’m here. Listen, these things effect the Earth’s surface. The soundwaves they produce they use as a weapon. From what I’ve put together so far, they not only alter the tectonic plates under us, but internal organs.”

 “No way! That’s so cool,” Vee marveled.

 “Right! If they affect the surface like this what’s so say we can’t use that against them.”

 “Bia, that’s genius.”

 “I know, I thought of it.”

 It wasn’t meant to sound egotistic at all, it was just a matter-of-fact statement. For some reason you felt you came up with many genius ideas in a short amount of time.

 “If you were so much of a genius maybe you could figure out where you come from once and for all,” Vee teased.

 “Low blow, Vee. I need you to run the scans and tests of this area and find me a Hail Mary.”

 “The square has changed so much I need an arial,” Vee informed.

 You looked around the barren and disheveled streets that no doubt would take weeks to clean up trying to find something you could use. In the distance closer to the fight than you liked, you saw a skyscraper that would be perfect.

 “Of course,” you muttered unenthusiastically.

 “What?”

 You sighed, peeled off your blazer, examined the heels you wore trying to decide if they would hold up, then you began running right toward the fight like someone who had a death wish.

 “I’ll get you the arial. Give me ten minutes.”

 Just as Vee was telling you not to do what she thought you were doing, you ended the call and picked up the speed. Your entire being woke up feeding on the adrenaline coursing through you. While others would be apprehensive charging into a practical battlefield, you weren’t. A mechanical tentacle collided with the pavement a few feet in front of you creating a deep crater.

 It was so close to you that you didn’t have enough time to stop. Quick calculations gave you another route, but it involved some athleticism. Without thinking, you jumped into the air then came down onto the hood of an abandoned car to bounce off of it and over the thinnest part of the tentacle. Once your feet were firmly back on the ground you took off again hoping to get to the building soon.

 When you were close to the door a body fell from the sky ruining the entrance.

 “Oh my god.”

 Again, you didn’t think, you bolted to the body, climbing over rocks, beams and turned over cars. As you got to them, they sprang up sending a piece of cement into the air and several feet away.

 “Son of a--,” Diana groaned.

 “Are you okay?”

 Her head snapped to you and your eyes locked. Diana cocked her head to the side as she took you in. Every time you saw her there was something familiar about her, something that didn’t feel as if she were a stranger.

 “Bia? What’re you doing here?”

 You took a few steps to her, “I need to get to the top of this building.”

 “Why? This is no place for you. It’s dangerous.”

 “I gathered but I may have a way to end these things.”

 Diana’s attention zeroed in then. “How?”

 You quickly explained your theory to her trying to keep the science bit of it minimal. You found she was intelligent enough to grasp the concepts but there were times you’d gotten deeply technical and lost her. When you finished, she looked impressed.

 “And you came up with this in how long?”

 “2 or 3 minutes,” you nonchalantly replied.

 Diana scoffed then smiled. “Always impressive Bia. My people would love a quick, resourceful and seemingly fearless woman like you.”

 “The Amazonians?”

 She nodded. Saying the word gave you another sense of familiarity but you shook it off.

 “What do you need from us?”

 The creature screeched again. Both you and Diana cringed but didn’t cover your ears. She looked bothered but not to the core as the others in the café. Interesting you thought. “You’re already doing it. Oh, and one of its weaknesses is its own weapons. Use them against it.”

 Diana nodded then took off in one mind boggling leap and bound that shot her into the sky.

 “Wow.”

 After climbing over the rest of the rubble, you ran into the building to the elevator banks. It probably wasn’t a good idea seeing that it was possible to get trapped but it would take way too long to run up possibly a hundred flights of stairs. You may not have known where you came from, but you knew for certain you were not Superman. Once in the elevator, you pressed the top floor and took the ride.

 Halfway up, the building shook and the elevator stopped startling you.

 “That’s not good.”

 The elevator doors opened as the lights flickered. Wasting no time, you ran out in search of the stairwell, and it was then a call from Vee came in.

 “Yeah Vee.”

 “All tests and scans look optimal. Your theory will work.”

 “Have you made the preparations with Terra?”

 “All I need are those ariels.”

 “I’m still working on that.”

 You took off climbing up the stairs two at a time. You didn’t even focus on the number of them you climbed you just registered every turn. Round and round you went, when one flight was climbed you tackled the next in an endless loop. Before long, you’d zoned out completely. Though your muscles were beginning to burn and your back aching you continued. By the time you got to the top floor you were winded and almost ready to pass out.

Your heartrate returned to normal within a few moments. you then ran out onto the roof nearly falling on your ass when you realized just how closely the fight was happening to where you were. A fireball zoomed past your head arching over the building and colliding with the one beside you. Thus started a domino effect as the building went down on another and so on and on.

 “Shit!”

 It took a few moments for you to recover. When you did you scurried to the edge of the building and dug into your pocket pulling one of many devices you carried with you at all times. Tapping a sequenced code into its exterior brought the drone, Dot, that was no bigger than the length of your finger alive. Using your phone, you tapped into the drone and entered the coded instructions.

 Dot purred indicating it had understood the command and was ready to comply. You raised your hand into the air and watched it take flight. With the implant in your behind your ear you were able to see what it saw. It enabled you to work faster as you got data instantaneously. As you took the ride with Dot you kept close eye on your wristwatch that relayed the date readings.

 Soon you had an aerial view of the fight. Superman shot rays out his eyes which only made brief impact with one of the creatures before it self-sealed the wound. He and Diana were taking turns working together to confuse them. Diana swung her lasso wrapping it around one of them. She used the side of a building as leverage to withstand the strength of her opponent. Another ray shot out of the creature, but Superman zoomed so fast through the air that you lost sight of him momentarily. All that remained was the red and blue blur of his suit.

 When you saw him next, he’d slammed into the electronic being sending it off balance. The beam it shot went right through the second creature’s head. As it dropped on top of a building you shot your hands into the air and cheered seeing your theory was correct. All the attention turned to you then. Several smaller drones were released from the hull of the creatures, and they all took flight toward you.

 “Shit!”

 Making quick work of the next commands to Dot you paid closer attention to the data coming in while keeping an eye on the incoming swarm moving toward you. Unwaveringly you focused on the task at hand. Sometimes you didn’t know if the way your brain regulated danger and fear was a blessing or a curse. It allowed you to stay calm under pressure and work faster, it also woke you up making you feel like you used more of your brain than humanly possible. Fear and danger did different things to you than it did to others you realized.

 The first drone reached you ready for attack. you dipped down grabbed a stray welded bar and swung sending it flying through the air.

 “Huh. I imagined that should have been harder.”

 Shrugging, you went back to your watch. The data you wanted was coming in and your excitement picked up. A sharp sting of pain caught you off guard. You’d gotten so caught up in the date that you didn’t register the remaining drones closing in for the kill. You swung the bar again but missed and all of them went in for the kill.

 Suddenly, a beam of red light went through all of them at once, dropping them.

“Ms. Dess, funny meeting you here of all places,” Superman said.

 “Ha. You know me.”

 He smiled. “You really shouldn’t be up here. It’s dangerous.”

 “Oh, I get that, but I need this data to end this once and for all.”

 “Diana has told me your theory. Do you think it will work?”

 “I more than think. I’m never wrong and this data I’m seeing proves it.”

 “What do you need me to do?”

 “Don’t let that thing interrupt me or Dot.”

 “Dot?”

 You pointed to your drone overhead and he nodded.

 “Understood.”

 With that he rocketed into the air and back to the two remaining creatures joining the fight with Diana. You zeroed in on what you needed to do, then called Vee.

 “It’s coming in hot Vee. Get it done.”

 “Got it. I’ll need five minutes.”

 “Your get two.”

 “So bossy!”

 You tapped into your watch trying to connect your implant to Terra, one of many disks you’d submerged into the earth’s surface around the world. If everything went smoothly, you’d be able to communicate with Dot and Terra at the same time to open the sinkhole. The pressure and gravity would take care of the rest while the machinery went haywire making them self-combust taking each other out. It was a flawless plan.

 “Now, Bia!”

 You took a deep breath and initialized the connection. Connecting subdural with one device took control but two simultaneously took strength and power. It always put you on your ass for a few hours afterward. It wasn’t pretty. You took a deep breath then went in. The electrical surge that coursed through you made your body tremble, so you exerted some more control to override impulse.

 Gritting your teeth, you proceeded to link the connection with Dot and Terra logging your consciousness into them to input the commands in. Long minutes ticked away and every one of them had an impact. You’d tested this for years and had only been able to sustain it for minutes tops.

 “Four minutes, Bia. Get out now or you’ll fry your brain.”

 Ignoring Vee, you dug deeper. You could hear fighting around you and knew Superman was probably holding the tide of new drones back.

 “I have you,” Superman grunted.

 For some reason, you felt secure knowing that.

 “Bia your vitals are plummeting. Get! Out!”

 “Al—most there.”

 Terra’s command center complied then connected to the others around the city. They were charging up to centralize the shock to your location. It was critical you got the coordinates precise. You’d have hell to pay with the Governor if you sank town square. Suddenly an image took over your mind. You were in a field of grass overlooking a cliff at the ocean. All around you, you heard battle cries, swords clashing, armor colliding together then the yodeling came. It sounded like tens, no hundreds of voices coming together as one making a war cry that brought tears to your eyes. You turned realizing then you were wearing golden armor over one of your shoulders, golden corseted armor across your bodice, thigh high boots and held a sword in one hand and a massive staff in the other.

 “Bia!”

 You dropped to one knee and recognized the strong coppery taste in your mouth. Blood.

 “You’re crashing!”

 Finishing the computation, you sent the order to execute.

 “It’s done.”

 Suddenly the ground around you trembled and broke apart. As the earth crumbled a sinkhole about a mile in radius opened up and down the creatures went. As they dropped their screech echoed around sending nearly all living mortal things to their knees. You gritted your teeth as your brain rattled. Again, you were transported back to that field. Before you, hundreds of women had their weapons raised yodeling. These were faces you recognized but didn’t know, faces of people you knew. You must have because the warmth rushing through you felt awfully like affection, pride and joy. You knew this place.

 Pain ricocheted through your midsection as you were hoisted into the air. A tentacle wrapped around your stomach and pulled you over the ledge of the building. It slowly registered that you were falling and being dragged along for the ride with one of those tentacled bastards. The sinkhole was getting closer and closer.

 “Fuck!”

 You were spent from your connection with the drones and had no more fight. Looking up, you saw Superman beaming down to you with his arm outstretched. As everything went in slow motion, you reached for him, but your hands didn’t touch. You remained just out of reach. His eyes glowed red and you closed yours not wanting to see your end. You could feel the shift in your surroundings. The coolness around you told you that you’d entered the earth’s surface.

 The rest seemed to happen within seconds. The heat of fire against your back made you scream out and squeeze your eyes tighter. It would be over soon you told yourself. Not a bad way to go out you thought. You’d done some good. Another image came to mind, and it was of you falling into murky water a color that you’d never seen before. It looked otherworldly. As you sank into it you smiled. A wave of calm took over though you should have felt terror. You knew you were courting death. Strong arms wrapped around you as the tight squeeze around your midsection subsided. Strong wind whipped across your skin and through your hair and with every few seconds it got colder.

 “Ms. Dess. Ms. Dess? Can you hear me?”

 Lite taps across your cheeks had you fluttering your eyes open. Deep azure ones peered back at you with so much concern.

 “Superman?”

 He sighed and the wrinkles in his brow evened out.

 “Thank god, I thought we lost you there.”

 You looked around you realizing you were among the clouds.

 “Oh my god.”

 “Hold tight, I’ll have you back on solid ground in a few,” Superman said.

 You obeyed and wrapped yourself tightly against him realizing then your legs were also wrapped around him quite intimately. He must have realized it at the same time you did because you felt his muscled frame tense as he cleared his throat and rocketed through the air. Once he put you on solid ground your knees buckled but you never crashed to the ground because Superman’s arms were around you again.

 “Are you all right?”

 “I just need my lab,” you panted.

 “Care for another ride?”

 You nodded as he picked you up once again and took off. This time you drifted off unable to fight the crash of your system.

  ~~~~~~

 -Two Days Later-

 You gasped for air as you bolted upright. It all was blurry but through the blur you could make out familiar things. The steady beep of the machine said your vitals were mostly back to normal. Slowly your sight returned to normal and when it did you saw you were still hooked up to and IV.

 “Uggh.”

 You yanked the needle out of your arm and pulled the leads off of your body which sent the monitors into chaos. Within seconds the door busted open and in stormed Vee.

 “Jesus Christ. Finally, you’re awake.”

 “Finally?”

 You swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood.

 “Yes finally. You’ve been out for a long time,” Vee clarified.

 “How many hours this time?”

 You walked out of the room toward the pit.

 “Forty-Eight.”

 You stumbled and spun around to her. “2 days?”

 “Yep. 2 freaking days. You were dead to the world and going through some very creepy metamorphosis might I add.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “Come, I’ll show you,” Vee finished leading the way to the pit where you usually huddled around every device you owned and created. It was the information center of your lab.

 Once there you checked a few computers wanting to find out the status of town square.

 “Has the Governor demanded my head yet?”

 “No. Superman and Wonder Woman are taking all the blame.”

 You looked at her in shock. “Really?”

 She nodded then beamed a recording from the pad she held in her hands to the massive screen in the front of the room. The video began with Superman laying your shivering body down then your trusted medical team pouring in to attach every device to your body. As they did, none of the readings made any sense. The lights flickered, machines went out of whack then stopped working and had to be replaced three time.

 As they worked to stabilize you, you thrashed across the bed, screamed, and fought against yourself. It almost looked like you were possessed or going through some metamorphosis as Vee had said. The video progressed with your vitals never stabilizing. They went from dangerous to impossible for the human body. Several times through the video for it to make sense you should have flatlined. When you were left alone the audio picked up your mumblings, conversations with yourself in a language you didn’t know. One word in particular stuck out. You paused the video and replayed it over and over.

 “Matpa.”

 “What the hell is that?”

 Suddenly the answer came to you as if you’d known it your entire life.

 “Sword.”

 Vee stared at you as if you’d grown another head. “How do you know that?”

 You shrugged because you genuinely had no clue how you knew it, but you were sure of it.

 “What if you’re going through a memory that your subconscious has repressed? What if the only way for you to have access to it is in an unconscious state after massive cerebral shock?”

 That sounded plausible. For the first time in years, you felt hope. You didn’t know anything about who you were beyond your name and even that you weren’t sure about. Bia didn’t ring a bell; it didn’t feel like you. Sure, you’d made it your own over the years, but it only felt like a piece of you.

 “We should try it out,” you suggested.

 “What! No! Bia in order to try that out we have to replicate the same conditions you were under.”

 “Okay, we can do it.”

 “No! You were in a neural connection with 2 drones for over seven minutes. You were near brain dead Bia.”

 “I have you here this time.

 The ring of a bell paused your conversation.

 “Who’s that?”

 Vee put on the surveillance feed and standing at the lab entrance was Superman himself—well Clark Kent 2.0 to be exact.

 “It’s damn he sure cleans up nice,” Vee said making you laugh.

 “I’m going to change you can let him in and bring him to my office.”

 You walked away back to the room you’d woken in and went through the clothes you left there for nights you worked late. Deciding on a sky-blue ankle-length suit that hugged every curve you proceeded to clean yourself up a little and change. By the time you walked out and made it to your office, he’d been waiting for a little over ten minutes.

 “Mr. Kent, funny meeting you here of all places,” you said as you walked in and around to your desk.

Once in front of him, you watched his eyes rake over your body before coming back to your face. Bold, you thought.

“Ms. Dess.”

 “Or should I call you Mr. El?”

 He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If this were Krypton maybe but on Earth, I’m Clark. You know that.”

 “I must say I think I prefer Kal-El.”

 “Why?”

 “It rolls off the tongue better, and suits you better.”

 your eyes lingered while your speech faltered. He looked in thought.

 “I’m here to check on you. Are you all right?”

 You held your arms out then spun for him. “Quite alright. thank you.”

 “You don’t have one scratch or burn on you. Impressive.”

 “I’ve always been a good healer.”

 He nodded and then you decided you’d call hi, Kal-El.”

 “We may be on Earth, but I prefer Kal-El.”

 You came around and leaned against the front of your desk. “What can I help you with today, Kal-El?”

 He studied you longer. The look on his face was not an annoyed one, or a confused one. It was a pleased look. He was pleased.

 “Without you a few days ago I think things would have gone very differently. I’m here to thank you.”

 You smiled then nodded, “Always happy to help.”

 Silence returned to the room and neither of you rushed to fill it with words. Since you’d gotten to know of him then about him over the years, it had been like this. There was always this easy silence and comfort between you that never felt off.

 “Even if it does put your life in danger,” he said making no effort to hide the displeasure in his tone.

 “I do nothing more than you or the other meta-humans. Do what you can to save who you can. What makes me any different?”

 “You’re not a meta-human. You don’t have super speed, or strength of electricity, or even control over water. You are defenseless.”

 He almost sounded worried.

 “I may not have any of those things but in no way am I defenseless.”

 He cocked his head to the side as he took you in some more. “I have never known someone so—fearless, so brave. It is impressive—you’re impressive.”

 Your eyes lingered on his and something strange happened then, your heart did a double beat. You clapped your hand over your chest, but it only happed once. He lurched to you with his hand outstretched.

 “Are you all right?”

 He was beside you with his hand at the midway point of your back. His scent circled you and immediately reminded you of Bergamot, Cedar, and clean linen. The heat radiating off of his body was so intense your body instantly reacted. You felt the hairs along your body stand on ends, the oxygen in your lungs being sucked out and your entire body tingle and hum. It was the strangest thing you’d ever felt, but oddly enough it wasn’t off-putting.

 “I’m—I’m—all right.”

 “Are you sure? Sit for a moment.”

 He ushered you to a seat then kneeled in front of you peering into your eyes with so much tenderness you could have cried.

 “I’m okay.”

 He did not look convinced, but he did not press you further.

 “I think it’s because I haven’t eaten in two days.”

 “Okay. Let me take you to lunch. Or we could eat here, and you could show me your latest projects.”

 You smirked at his sweetness. “I accept, but I have a better idea for a location.”

 You smirked at the questioning look he gave you no doubt trying to figure out what you had up your sleeve.

To Be Continued.....

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

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[ghostlylicious]

going insane on my twitter

look, angelo could be her friend if he tries really really hard

#guy's prob a pussy tho /affectionate #i'm not okay #💥💥💥💥 #i eated them #RAAAAHHHHH #I'M SO SORRY THE WITCHER BUT I'M CHEATING ON U TEMPORARILY THO #i wanna make fanfiction so bad but where's the time #afk arena #angelo afk arena #theowyn afk arena

[essektheylyss]

hot take: "Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene" goes SO hard and of all of Hozier's songs, it gets absolutely NO credit for slapping as much as it does.

#I used to have it on a playlist for a particular character and I might switch it but I AM keeping it for the project #because it absolutely slaps #also? yasha song. #yes I did switch from welcome to wildemount but unfortunately it is still november which means I must write 😔 #and SOMETHING THAT ISN'T FANFICTION DAMMIT #for ONCE brain I am bEGGING #but anyway it means I'm back on my tired immortals bullshit: gladiator edition #I'm sure that is not a deeply concerning premise to anyone who has read my work #'hmm wonder how this could POSSIBLY get more upsetting— here comes arena fighting to a false unachievable death with a steel chair!' #but I do have to go through this playlist to make sure that there isn't anything on it that does not go as hard as possible #I'm on song 5 of uh. 79. #however. it thus far is great. #the other four are ancient light; angels on neon wings; apex; black sails theme #and then it goes to black sheep. #is this a baffling set of songs? probably. alas.

[serenefreakgeekao3]

Ever in our favour

PEETA MELLARK X GN!READER

CHAPTER ONE

[Table of Contents]

Summary: You wake up with a migraine, surrounded by forests and kids that are more than willing to kill you. What have you fallen into the middle of? And why can’t you remember getting here?

Warnings: Cannon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and injuries, descriptions of a panic attack, temporary memory loss, (more to be added over time)

Author’s Note: I was planning on doing like full-amnesia, doesn’t remember anything and suddenly waking up with everyone wanting to kill them, but it seemed a bit too unrealistic to me so i went partial amnesia from head trauma and ran with that. And to make the whole gender-neutral reader thing easier, I made the reader from a separate district and killed off the other tribute during the Bloodbath section, and i make no mention of whether your other tribute was masculine or feminine.

You slowly come to consciousness, your head pounding along with your pulse, and each beat seems to get more painful. You groan low in your throat, curling into a ball to minimize the stabbing only to hear your ears begin to ring. You slowly took stock of the rest of your body, and you could feel a burning, searing pain coming from your left abdomen; your clothes felt sticky in that area and you could only assume you’d been losing blood.

Your ears begin to clear, and you stretch your jaw after realizing you had been clenching it this whole time. You were just about to open your eyes when you feel a shove against your right side, falling heavily against your left and calling out in pain. Your eyes shoot open from this, and you take in the scenery surrounding you. You were in some sort of forest, the light was low enough that it seemed to almost be night- and there were two men fighting each other not ten feet away from you. Their grunts were only just registering, and you raise a hand to wiggle one of your ears, trying to clear out the last of the ringing.

You were terrified- the two men that were fighting seemed ready to end each other. One raised a hatchet above his head and swung wildly, missing once the other ducked before jumping back upward with a strong uppercut to the jaw. Hatchet man fell to the ground, losing his grip on his weapon as it swung and fell a bit away, tettering off the edge of a rock before falling into a rushing river nearby. You suck in a deep breath, looking at the man still standing and seeing him remain there, breathing heavily.

He was a bulky guy, with short blonde hair- and as he turned to look at you, you catch sight of eyes so blue they reminded you of the skies back home, in District 9. The blue skies mixed with the fields of grain surrounding you had always been a calming thought, and you were instantly transported back there just by one innocent look from this boy.

He approached slowly, raising his hands in a placating gesture, before finally speaking with a low voice. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m here now.”

“Where am I?” It was one of the main questions on your mind, along with who is he, why are you here, and why that man was trying to kill him. Along with why your head hurt so much, where your home was- really, the list could go on, but figuring out where you were definitely seemed like a good starting point. This question, however, seemed to be the wrong one as the only answer you got in response was a furrowed brow and a slight pout from the boy’s lips. Then, the hatchet man began to stand back up.

“Look out!” You point behind him, and the blond boy spins to face his attacker head-on. The boy- tall, but skinny, with short brown hair that curled around his ears- just laughed as a bit of blood trickled down his chin.

“I’m going to have fun ending both of your lives,” He taunted, raising his hands in some sort of readying position and twisting his feet until they matched his stance. The boy beside you huffed out a breath, shaking his head and readying his own stance. Were you supposed to know what was going on?

The men rushed at each other, the blond angling to grapple the other’s middle and bring him down to the ground, but the hatchet man managed to keep his footing, and it ended with a clash of both pulling opposite directions and struggling against each other. You stood slowly, scanning the area before finding a rather large stone, bigger than your own hand when you kneeled down to pick it up. You approached slowly, trying to go unnoticed by the wrestling duo before finally lifting the stone over your head and bringing it down on the brown-haired head. He collapsed and it took a moment for the blond to finally let go of him and lay him on the ground.

You met eyes over the body, you raising the stone in the air as if to explain, and you watched the blond boy eye it warily. “You’re not going to hurt me, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” The boy agreed cautiously, slowly moving to stand. You drop the heavy rock from your hand, grunting and moving to clutch at your hurt abdomen once more. The blond boy watches you from afar before slowly approaching, moving your hand and kneeling down to get a better look. He pulls your black shirt away from the wound, and you can tell by his wince that your injury doesn’t look good.

“We should get out of here before he wakes up,” You grunt out, taking a step back from the blond boy and fixing your shirt. He only furrows his brow further before looking down at the unconscious kid next to him, then glancing toward the sky. You only just noticed, but it seemed to be getting darker outside, and the drop in temperature was beginning to worry you. “Perhaps we should gather wood for a fire or something.”

“Well that’s a sure way to get us killed,” The blond mumbled, standing with a wince. “And I don’t think we should just leave him here like this, he’d come after us. You heard him.”

“And what are we supposed to do? Kill him?” Your question was rhetorical, but you only received a baffled look back from the blond. “Exactly, so why don’t we just-”

“Yes. That’s what we’re supposed to do. We’re supposed to kill him.”

“What?” You blink a few times, trying to process this before laughing loudly. This apparently startles the blond, who stands there baffled once more before lurching forward and placing his hand against your mouth.

“What are you doing, trying to get us killed?” He stares into your eyes with deep worry, and your humour suddenly leaves you as quickly as you found it. As he slowly lowers his hand, you find you can’t raise your voice to more than a whisper.

“What do you mean? Where are we?”

You suddenly feel something grasp your ankle, and as you’re in the process of a surprised gasp it yanks hard and pulls you down to the ground. You land roughly against the stone, bumping your head and OW that hurt again! Your migraine comes back in full force and you see stars dancing in your vision. You feel a weight against your chest next, and through the stars and throbbing you begin to make out a figure, a person sitting atop your chest.

Then once, twice, three times you are hit across the face. Your head swings wildly from side to side, and all you can do is groan, too dizzy to figure out where you were and how to stop this. You feel intense pressure coming from your left side and it matches the pumping feeling that fills your head and you’re not sure you can breathe or even continue-

You gasp a breath quickly, turning onto your side and coughing as the weight sitting on your chest is suddenly removed. You hear a scuffling nearby through the pounding of your ears, and you struggle to open your eyes and take a look around you. Hatchet man is wrestling the blond onto the ground, rolling around and round in circles. Their grappling techniques seemed matched, both relying on strength to win this fight and ending in a stalemate.

‘Well it worked the first time, didn’t it?’ You think to yourself, twisting your head around until you find a red-stained rock nearby. You heft it with some effort, breathing heavily through your nose and moving to stand. You catch yourself briefly as you almost fall over, but eventually succeed and approach the wrestling couple, who once again seems too concentrated on their own efforts. You lift the rock above your head, wait for the opportunity, and then send it crashing down.

Somewhere in the distance, a cannon goes off. You choke on your breath, dropping the rock from your grasp and stumbling backwards until you trip on your feet and land on your bum. Scooting back more until your back hits a rough surface, you shake your head in disbelief. No, no, no, no, you couldn’t be- this can’t be-

“Hey, hey, are you okay?”

You look up into the blond’s eyes, your breaths coming in pants, too fast to control and though you’re hyperventilating, you still feel as if you can’t get enough air into your lungs. You continue shaking your head back and forth, staring into his blue eyes and hoping to find even a portion of the calm you had felt earlier. He approaches slowly, his hands in full view until finally he’s within touching distance. He reaches forward slowly, placing a hand on your chest with his left, and taking one of your hands with his right. You hadn’t realized you were practically clawing at your throat until he had, and he brings your hand to his own chest.

“Breathe with me, alright? In, there we go now hold it, a few more seconds, okay now out, there we go.”

He’s talking you through how to breathe, mimicking it with you and- wait, if you’re here and he’s helping you- why is he helping you?

“We’re in the Hunger Games.” You meant to phrase it as a question, but it only came out as a statement. As his eyes darkened, he only nodded in response before continuing to breathe along with you. You shake your head again, trying to calm your breathing as you can feel the need to speed it up once more. “I didn’t- I really didn’t mean to kill him. I didn’t- I can’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay. You should see yourself right now. Trust me, it was self-defence.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to-”

The blond hushes you, crawling in closer and pulling you against his chest. His arms tighten around you and- wait, but you’re in the Hunger Games? Why is he helping you?

“You’re not from my district?” You were able to ask that one as a question, your tone finally inflecting where it needed to. You felt him shake his head against you, repeating in whispers how everything is alright now. “Why are you helping me?”

“Do you remember anything? At all?” His voice was still whispering in your ear, though now that you couldn’t see his blue eyes anymore you could see the rest of the world surrounding you. It was darker now than it was and the last vestiges of the light barely lit up the area you’d woken up in. And there he was, the man that you had killed laying not ten feet away from you. Your breath begins to pick up again and the blond just tightens his hold on you. “You’re fine, everything is okay now.”

“I killed him. I really killed him.”

“Y/N, do you remember anything at all?” You turn quickly at the sound of your name, studying his face intently. He knew you, but you still had no clue who he is.

“How do you know my name? Who are you?” He sighs, his face looking pained.

“My name is Peeta. We should get moving before someone stumbles across us here. I’m sure our fighting was pretty loud.” He moves to stand, offering a hand down to help you. You leverage his help to stand, with Peeta holding fast as you stumble from dizziness. “Someplace nearby though, I don’t think you can continue on for much longer without having those wounds dressed.”

“Wounds? Plural?” You huff a breathless laugh at him, shaking your head and bending over slightly, trying to put pressure against your side. “I know my side is bad, but it’s not-” You cut yourself off as Peeta raises a hand to the side of your head, then brings his hand back covered with blood. He stares at it for a few moments before a look of determination crosses his face.

“Let’s get moving.” He turns, roughly yanking a backpack off of the other guy’s body and approaching the fast-running river, scanning the inside. “I think we lost the hatchet, but we can make do. Come on,” He offers a hand out to you, and you reach the one not holding your side out to take it. He pulls you alongside the river upstream, scanning the area for something- someplace safe, likely.

After a bit of walking, you become extremely glad that Peeta had the idea to hold hands. The world around you becomes so dark that you can spot a lit campfire that seems a few miles away, and blearily wish for the heat that it would provide before your thoughts are interrupted by a scream and a flickering of the campfire light ahead. It eventually goes out at the same time another cannon sounds, and Peeta tightens his grip on your hand. It’s another few minutes before you hear him speak again.

“I think I found something, stay here.” You’re reluctant to let go of his hand, but he pulls away anyway and disappears from view. You’re scared, hurting, and tired. And now alone. You hunker down, kneeling down on your feet with your knees on either side of you like some sort of protection. You try to breathe through the pain, hissing slightly as you press a little too hard on your side. You raise your free hand to clutch at the side of your head, realizing that the source of your pounding migraine stems from whatever injury was congealing on your head. You could feel it wet with blood, but it wasn’t pulsing out like the one on your side was so you felt slightly better about your chances.

The idea of your own death was finally hitting when you felt a hand grab hold of your arm. You stumble backwards, trying to wrench your arm from the hand, but then Peeta appears directly in front of your face whispering assurances. You calm slightly, staring into those blue eyes once more and- just, wow, why was he so comforting? Especially in this place, where you know you’re supposed to kill everyone else, even if you don’t remember officially being put in here?

Once Peeta notices your compliance, he pulls once more and directs you downward toward the water. You try to watch your step, the stones slick under your feet before you hear Peeta tell you to duck your head down. He stands between you and the river, placing a hand on your head to make sure you don’t bump it as he guides you into a small cavern space. Inside is even darker than before, but you place a hand on the cave wall and follow it around until you reach the back of the cave. You raise your hand upward, feeling the roof above you in your hunched-over form. You weren’t sure how much space was here exactly, but it definitely wasn’t a lot.

“Okay, just rest for now. We can’t do anything when we can’t see.”

“Shouldn’t we do something about this,” You grunt out, trying to lower yourself down into a reclining position while applying pressure to your side. “I feel like I’m about to bleed out over here.”

“You won’t,” Peeta replies quickly, assuredly, before you feel his approach. He places a hand on your leg before dragging upward, meeting your hands and pressing even harder against your side. You hiss in pain and hear Peeta sigh in response.

“I’ll go look outside for some sort of healing herb, at least there’s a moon out there, even if only partially full. I won’t venture far, don’t worry.”

Before he could remove his hand from you, you reach forward and encircle his wrist. “Why are you helping me? Isn’t that the opposite of the point?” It’s quiet for a moment before you heard some more shuffling. You feel Peeta place his hands on both of your shoulders, then lift you up. You’re gently laid down on his legs, and he begins to run his hand through your hair, smoothing it away from your forehead.

“We became friends during training. I know a bit about you already, though I suppose if I’m reading this situation right, you don’t remember me?” You shake your head gently, then feel as Peeta gently runs his fingers against the injury on your head. “It sucks,” He says with a laugh, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “We planned on teaming up. We have pretty opposite specialities, so we thought it would be a smart idea.”

“So what is your speciality then?” He laughs again and you can’t help but think you wouldn’t mind hearing that again. You absolutely wouldn’t mind having a teammate on your side, especially while injured.

“I’m strong. I was a baker’s child over in 12, I used to lug those large sacks of flour and grain. I would feed the pigs we had out back, and carry them when they were slaughtered.” He sighed softly, and you reach a hand up to tangle with one of his. He squeezes your hand before continuing. “I was in a wrestling club after school back home, so I have some hand-to-hand experience as well.”

“And what were my specialities?” You asked with a smile, and you could hear a smile in his voice as he replied.

“As if you wouldn’t already know, but sure. You’re good at differentiating between plants. I would’ve died five times over during training- that’s when you first approached me. Laughing at me, actually.” You laugh then, at the image it invokes, nodding your head. “You’re also good at setting snares and traps. You mentioned pests, like field mice that would run through your grain or eat your product. Your father had taught you to lay traps and how to mark them so the others in your district wouldn’t run into them.” He blew out some breath, brushing his free hand through your hair once more, his voice lowering. “You were worried that setting up traps for humans would be harder, or more noticeable. But we practised and tested it out. As long as you use strong enough rope, you can catch them easily.

"Actually, there’s the boy from district 1, Marvel, who accidentally ran into your trap while you were trying to show me. He was hoisted up into the air by his leg. It was a funny sight really,” He chuckled, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face, “He was hanging upside down and I couldn’t tell if his face was red from anger or all the blood rushing downward.” You laugh along with him, then as the laughter dies off you sit in silence until you finally decide to break it.

“Please tell me the guy I k-killed was that Marvel guy, then?” His voice was low and serious when he answered.

“No. I think he was the guy from 3.” He runs his fingers through your hair one more time before lifting you up and trying to gently lay you down on the stone underneath where he had been. “I should go look for those herbs now.”

“I thought I was the one who knew the difference,” You pointed out, raising your eyebrows. Now that your eyes have finally adjusted you could see the basic form of Peeta hovering nearby, his hands reaching toward you before withdrawing.

“Well, I don’t think you’re in any position to go looking. Plus, you showed me a few things in training.” You smirk, laying your head back and closing your eyes.

“At least someone remembers, then.”

#ever in our favour #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #reader #gender neutral reader #fanfiction #the hunger games #thg fanfiction #in the arena

[a-strange-inkling]

Me: You have an enough works and WIPS to finish. No more ideas. You have to stop.

Also me: HellCheer Hunger Games Mentor x Tribute AU

(They have major Finnick and Annie vibes, I don’t know why, it must be the tragic, unlikely soulmate thing)

• Eddie Munson is a former *very unexpected* Victor made Mentor of District 6. He won at sixteen years old and developed a drinking and morphling addiction to help cope with the horrors he had to go through. He works with the only other living Victor, Jim Hopper to train new Tributes every year. None of their Tributes have won from their District since his victory. After the death of their first Tributes, he began to work on giving up his vices to be a sharper and better Mentor.

• His heart sinks when he finds out Chrissy Cunningham is drawn as Tribute during her last year in the Reaping and the male Tribute is none other than her old flame Jason Carver.

• President Creele seems interested in a different narrative this year after four years of Career victories. He wants to give the lesser Districts a little hope to keep their spirits. Not too much of course.

• Their Capitol personas aren’t difficult to create, both being attractive and popular even back home. Chrissy is good at pretending to be something she’s not to get people to like her, she becomes a Capitol darling overnight. Whereas Jason doesn’t have to pretend at all, he takes to the Capitol way of life quite naturally. Plus people love that they were former lovers and can’t wait to see that drama play out in the arena.

• Hopper wants to focus on Jason for training. He’s stronger, more determined, and has a willingness to kill. Whereas Chrissy, while athletic and smart, is too skittish and tender hearted to last very long in the Games.

• Eddie however tries to convince him to focus on Chrissy instead. Jason is full of himself, too arrogant and unwilling to adapt to his surroundings… that and Eddie has been secretly harboring feelings for Chrissy since their school days, even though it seems she doesn’t remember him from back then.

• Chrissy tells Eddie to listen to Hopper and choose Jason because he has an actual chance at winning. She tells him she doesn’t care if she dies, that she really has nothing to go home to. She would much rather Jason live instead.

• Jason is still in love and very possessive of Chrissy despite their situation and is determined to keep her safe in the Games and willing to die to protect her. He believes if their Mentors focus on him and keep him alive, he can keep her alive in turn. He tries desperately to rekindle what they had before, but aside from the fact they will be pitted to kill one another, she is seeing a different side of him as the Games approach. Something dark and twisted. Almost an eagerness to get out in the arena.

• They decide to split mentoring, Eddie with Chrissy and Hopper with Jason. Giving both Tributes a chance. Eddie teaches her that there is more than one way to win, and that strength and brute force isn’t necessarily the most important attributes. He won his Games by running away, leaving everyone else behind. He only killed one person.

• They both begin to open up to one another, Eddie about his trauma surviving the Games and Chrissy about her abusive home. He sees and understands her in a way no one else does, not even Jason. As they spend more time together, their deep attraction and admiration for one another grows to be too much to bear until one night he kisses her on the floor of the training room.

• Hopper warns Eddie not to get too attached to her. Reminding him that he knows how this ends; with him watching her die and not being able to do anything about it. But Eddie is determined that she will live, that she’ll win.

• Jason notices the two of them growing closer and becomes consumed with jealousy. He quietly becomes volatile and resentful toward them. A bloodlust taking root deep inside of him.

• Every moment with Eddie makes Chrissy feel like there’s hope. They spend the night before the Games in each other’s arms and Eddie cries, begging her to win, to come back to him because he can’t live without her, he can’t watch her die. She brushes his hair back from his face and promises, for him, that she will try.

#of course it comes down to chrissy v jason in the arena #hellcheer au #hellcheer #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #munningham #chrissy x eddie #hellcheer fanfiction

[sapphsquared]

Concept art of Kaito Yamada

With and without his yellow cap. He's inspired by Revelations: Persona's Mark/Masao Inaba and Persona 4's Yosuke Hanamura.

#persona series #persona fanart #persona fanfiction #persona fandom #persona 6 #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #persona 4 #persona 4 golden #persona 3 #persona 3 portable #persona 3 fes #persona 2 #persona 2 innocent sin #persona 2 eternal punishment #persona 1 #megami ibunroku persona #revelations persona #shin megami tensei persona #persona 3 reload #persona 5 tactica #persona 5 strikers #persona 4 arena #persona 4 arena ultimax

[allylikethecat]

as someone who knows absolutely nothing at all about horses / horse riding, i am. obsessed. with all the king's horses. i loved the new chapter 🥰

Ahhhh thank you so much for reading!! I know this AU is very niche (and that myself and maybe like three other people are the target audience lol) but I am just so thankful for all of the support it has received and that people are still willing to give it a chance! I have so much fun working on it (and was literally flatting my horse after work today day dreaming about the fic lol) and I love horses SO MUCH so getting to combine these two things makes me extra happy! Thank you SO MUCH for reading, and if you ever have any horse questions let me know! I've been trying to make things clear to not horse people as well, but if I ever get too "nerdy horse girl" about it let me know! Thank you for reading and your kind words about the new chapter and sending this ask!! I hope you had a wonderful Friday and that you have the best weekend!

❤️Ally

#allylikethecat #ask ally #anon ask #fanfiction #keep it kind #matty fic #gatty #fanfic #All the King's Horses #Equestrian AU #literally this fic has consumed my thoughts #I had the arena to myself today and I was just cantering around on a loose rein lost in thought #granted that probably wasnt the safest thing for me to be doing but it's fine Pop is pretty safe and i know his like three moves so well #muscle memory usually takes over when he does anything silly #which he didnt #other than being a little excited about his lead changes lol which is very normal for him #he gets super excited and is like I DID IT MOM #omfg i love him so much #i started crying while grooming him today because i love him so much #and i had seen an article about a trailer accident and just got all emotional because horses are so special and so delicate #ugh #sorry that got heavy #thank you for reading!!

[natarenas]

RECOMENDACIONES FANFIC

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Síndrome de Supernova

Autor(a): LitaCakes

Idioma: Inglés

Resumen:

Izuku se negó a aceptar la verdad. ¿Qué sabían los médicos de todos modos? No hay absolutamente ninguna manera de que Izuku haya tenido... lo que sea que fuera este 'Síndrome de Supernova'. No había absolutamente ninguna manera posible de que su alma gemela pudiera odiarlo tanto como para estar dispuesto a dejarlo morir.

_____

O: El alma gemela de Izuku lo ha negado, pero Izuku aún no sabe quién es. Él va a morir si no lo descubre, entonces, ¿cómo reaccionará cuando descubra quién es realmente... y cómo reaccionará su alma gemela?

#hanaki disease #enfermedad de hanaki #fiction disease #enfermedad ficticia #mha #mha fanfiction #bkdk #mha bkdk #bnha bkdk #bnha #hanaki #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #recomendación #fan fiction recommendations #ao3 link #ao3 #nat arenas ao3 #ao3 english

[emrysthegoodwitch]

THE VESTIGE - DRAGONBORN

Many believe, the Dragonborn found out about their heritage after battling a dragon to save Whiterun.

In fact everyone believed it. They assumed their talent with magic and ancient languages was from growing up in the academic sphere.

Both assumptions were completely and utterly wrong. The Dragonborn found out about their heritage and power granted to them by Akatosh, long before the 4th Era.

They found out about their heritage long before Alduin returned, before the Oblivion Crisis, and before the Tribunal Temple fell.

They found out long ago, when they went by a different moniker. A different title for a different age.

The Dragonborn's first title was The Vestige.

Almost a thousand years ago, when the Three Banners War waged. The Vestige discovered who they were in Elsweyr.

When they accompanied Abnur Tharn on a quest to stop the war, only to release Dragons who had been locked away.

No, no one knew of this. It was a secret they kept dear. Few alive knew of the truth, and even then 'alive' was a loose term.

Were dremora ever really alive?

So when Cultists came to attack them, claiming they were the 'false dragonborn' they felt an anger that hadn't surfaced for a very long time. Perhaps not since Mannimarco dared to sacrifice their soul.

After all the trials and tribulations they had been through, someone wants to claim they were a false dragonborn?

They made their way to Solsthiem, a lonely island they had not been to for a few hundred years. Looking for answers, and not giving up until they found some. They did indeed find answers, their face morphing into a smirk when they realized another Daedric Prince was impeding their way, that would simply not do.

Hermaeus Mora was surprised and extremely alarmed when he felt and saw The Vestige enter his realm. He wanted to assume it was a coincidence, but the second the Thu'um left their throat, Herma Mora second guessed himself for the very first time.

Miraak was surprised to run into another Dragonborn, even more surprised to find out they were far older than they looked. He also appreciated escaping Apocrypha with their aid in one piece.

#the vestige #the dragonborn #elder scrolls arena #elder scrolls online #elder scrolls morrowind #the elder scrolls skyrim #elderscrollsdaggerfall #elder scrolls fanfiction #miraak #miraak x reader #abnur tharn #Elderscrollsonlinerlsweyr #elsweyr #hermaeus mora #molag bal #meridia's beacon