So I decided to combine those two requests, because they’re very similar, and it’s not my thing to write two stories that are basically the same thing :-). So here for Batmom and Bruce’s wedding and all of that ! IT’S SUPER LONG SORRY !! It’s been a while since I wrote such a long fic…I just didn’t wanna make two parts… Hope you’ll like it :
The angry (or rather, annoyed), loud and deep voice of their father stop them all right in their track. It isn’t often your Bruce raises his voice like so, but sometimes, your boys just push him too far.
Like right now.
You were all in the biggest living room in Wayne’s Manor, enjoying some family time for the first time in ages ! It was rare that you could hang out altogether outside of the Batcave…
But things weren’t going like you wanted them to go.
You had wished to spent some times with your sons, husband and the man you came to consider your father, Alfred. Watching movies, eating junk food, drinking too much coffee and soda…It started out so well.
You guys were all sitting in a gigantic couch, with tons of things to eat and drink, and a movie to put on…Unfortunately, said movie was Dick’s favorite, and the young man seemed unable stop himself from saying every lines in the movie before they actually happened.
You and Bruce were used to him doing that, as he’s been doing it since he arrived first in the house, when he was barely eight years old. The first time he said a line before a character would say it, he looked at you two worriedly, afraid to be annoying…And of course it was annoying, but he was so damn cute, that you let him do it. And some things never change. Even though he was know a almost a man, you still let him do it, because to you, he was still your baby boy, and he was still as cute as ever.
Jason never cared either, because usually, when it was movie night, it meant cuddling against you or one of his brothers (rarely against Bruce, because of stupid pride), and he’d never admit it, but he didn’t care one bit about the movies you’d all watch, as long as he was with his family. Oh yes, of course he’d never admit it, it’d ruin his “tough guy reputation”.
Tim would usually doze off on your shoulder, or if your shoulder was taken by one of your siblings (only one shoulder available unfortunately, the other one was always automatically reserved for his father), then he’d fall asleep on one of them instead. The poor boy always had so much trouble sleeping, than when there were truly calm moments, like your movie nights, he just couldn’t stay awake.
But Damian…Oh Damian hated Dick’s habit. And apparently, this evening, he was grumpier than usual, not even twenty minutes into the movie and he started to argue with his older brother about him “having to shut up because he’d like to enjoy the damn movie !”. Of course, because Dick loved the way Damian would get all worked up about something that silly (even though it really was annoying), he did it even louder.
This sprout Damian lunging at Dick and yelling at him to be silent…the commotion he made woke Tim up, and when Tim got woken up from one of his rare peaceful sleep, he wasn’t in a good mood. So out of annoyance, he elbowed Damian in the ribs with a groan.
It so happened that that particularly night, it was Jason’s turn to snuggle against you, and the fight their brother were starting made you straighten up to see what was happening, dislodging him from against you…And it wasn’t fair. it was his turn to be with his mommy (oh God he wished to everything he held holy that no one would ever know what he was thinking just now), and they were ruining it !
All Hell broke loose as your four boys started to yell, kick, slap, damn even BITE each other ! All the while Dick kept saying the lines from the movie before it happened, as he was dodging punches and such.
It lasted about thirty seconds before Bruce got genuinely angry that his sons were ruining one of their only family moments of the month ! It was so difficult to gather everyone together, and they were messing everything up !
Summary: You move into a new apartment after your boyfriend leaves to go abroad, making your relationship long distance. You’re tired, stressed and missing him - and your next door neighbor isn’t making life any easier. (Part 1/Part 2) Scenario: neighbor!AU, slightly angsty Word Count: 4,724
Summary: You’re retired, living a quiet and secure life when your ex, Steve Rogers, turns up on your doorstep with his best friend, seeking refuge. (bucky x reader, enhanced reader)
Prompt(s): Okay I know I already wroteNight Walks with these prompts but I really wasn’t happy with it, so here is attempt #2. @pandarositarequest: 93 and 94… but Reader being upset rather than Bucky?
93.“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.” 94. “I had a bad dream again.” Plus anon request: 64 “Here, take my blanket.”
Warnings: swearing, nightmare, that’s about it. :)
Word Count: 5168 (woops…)
Author’s Note: Okay team, enjoy the fluff while you can…
The next morning you’d woken early, it was bright and damn
cold. Snowing again. But Bucky was warm, and breathing slowly and softly and
you didn’t want to move, wishing you could stay there where you’d fallen
asleep, tucked close to his side long into the morning. But there were three
people to whom you certainly did not want to explain this situation so you
dragged yourself as quietly and gently as you could away from Bucky’s sleeping
body beside you.
Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.
A/N: Holy bananas, you guys. Once I started writing this part, I got carried away and I’m probably extending this fic by a few parts. heh. I’m so in love with this story, and that’s probably why! I really hope you are too. Any thoughts and feedback are appreciated! I love you all!! :)
“Try the Boysenberry Pie while you’re there. Even for breakfast, it really hits the spot.”
Taking a few steps backward, you gave him a smile, “I’ll do that,” then turning to walk away.“Oh, Y/N!” you heard him call after you and you whirled in place, surprised.
“Keys. I need your keys.”
You laughed, shaking your head, “Right. Sorry.” Digging into your purse followed by a toss of the keys, he caught them out of the air before you headed in the direction of the diner once again.
A bell above the door jangled lightly as you entered the diner, the smell of hot grease hitting your nose. Straight ahead there was a counter with barstools, a view of the kitchen behind it. To both your left and right along the wall lined with windows, there were built-in booths with splitting vinyl cushions and spotted formica-covered tables.
The waitress behind the counter spoke, drawing your attention. “Hey, sweetie. Take a seat wherever you like, I’ll be with you in a jiffy.”
“Okay,” you responded with a tight smile.
Choosing a booth, you dropped your bag and sat down. You looked around, seeing only 2 other customers currently sitting at the counter with coffee mugs in their hands. Moments later, a pretty redhead approached, wearing a sleeveless button-up flowered shirt and jeans under the apron around her waist. Bright red lipstick painted her lips as she talked to what looked like a regular customer. Probably a local.
Something occurred to me recently, when I was contemplating the outcomes of a Leliana!Divine world-state. Circles, imperfect as they arguably are, provide a contained environment with which to resolve a potential outbreak of possession. I acknowledge that, as you have opined, the Rite Of Annulment is a sub-optimal response to them; that said, even a less questionable solution would be easier to implement with the Nevarran Accord in place. How would the post-circle Thedas solve such events?
Well, that’s a bit of an understatement. I believe I said that the Right of Annulment is fucking evil. :)
I stand by that, absolutely. I don’t think it is ‘questionable’ or ‘sub optimal’. I think the indiscriminate murder of what may amount to hundreds of trapped and helpless people is a grotesque and horrific thing. I get these Asks, sometimes. And they all amount to ‘But when do we get to murder mages? Surely now we can murder mages? Surely this situation is bad enough that we can murder mages?’
My answer is never. You never get to murder mages without consequences. And let’s be clear here: my word is ‘murder’. If you are cornered by a mage, possessed or otherwise, who means to kill you, and you find you must kill them to survive, then you are acting in self defence. And that’s fine. But if you have arrived on the scene with the intent to kill, you are a murderer.
First thing: this business about Circles and the Annulment being set up to resolve possession scenarios. They’re not. Not at all. If they’ve ever actually accomplished that, it was incidental to their true purpose. However, I think in most cases the Circles (and in all cases Annulments) have made things worse rather than better. I know that safety is how the Chantry sells it, but the Chantry lies.
Let’s take a look at how all this got started:
In the 83rd year of the Glory Age, one of the mages of the Nevarran Circle was found practicing forbidden magic. The templars executed him swiftly, but this brewed discontent among the Nevarra Circle. The mages mounted several magical attacks against the templars, vengeance for the executed mage, but the knight-commander was unable to track down which were responsible.
Three months later, the mages summoned a demon and turned it loose against their templar watchers. Demons, however, are not easily controlled. After killing the first wave of templars who tried to contain it, the demon took possession of one of its summoners. The resulting abomination slaughtered templars and mages both before escaping into the countryside.
The grand cleric sent a legion of templars to hunt the fugitive. They killed the abomination a year later, but by that time it had slain 70 people.
Divine Galatea, responding to the catastrophe in Nevarra and hoping to prevent further incidents, granted all the grand clerics of the Chantry the power to purge a Circle entirely if they rule it irredeemable. This Right of Annulment has been performed 17 times in the last 700 years.
The Templars murdered a mage for practising ‘forbidden magic’. What did he do? We’ll probably never know. And that’s the root cause of the problem: Templars are empowered to perform summary executions, and are never held accountable for their actions. They are assumed to be justified in anything they do.
The Circle mages, finding themselves trapped in a building with a mob of religious fanatics who had just proved they were not even slightly above murder, retaliated. Apparently, they were really good at it. Targeted guerilla warfare that kept the Templars on the back foot, and for which they were never caught. I’d just like to pause for a moment to give a fucking standing ovation to the Glory Age Nevarran mages. It’s doubtful they were ever able to write down and disseminate their tactics. Nevertheless, they should be an inspiration for every generation that followed after.
Eventually, someone broke through the Templar lines. I’m not sure whether I believe the bit about the demon summoning. I’ll certainly concede that it’s possible: people do summon demons to fight their battles, and that can get very, very, very out of hand. But ‘demons’ and ‘blood magic’ are the Chantry’s go-to excuses for everything, and they’ve been caught out lying or misunderstanding these situations before. The mages were, as I said, doing really well. And they were Nevarran mages. This is a culture that knows how to work the Fade, and, given that this is early Chantry history, I’d expect traditional Nevarran practices to be more prominent and less suppressed by Chantry forces. I’d put Nevarran mages up there with Rivaini and Avvar in knowing how to handle spirits.
Someone got out, and they stayed free for a year. Given that a ‘legion’ of Templars were sent after them (from context I’m not entirely sure if the author means 5,000 (ish) Templars, like they sent in the Roman army, or if she just means ‘a lot’ but I suspect the latter because bloody hell, that’s a lot of Templars), and they were pursuing them over the course of that time, I would guess that the 70 people killed were mostly, if not entirely, the pursuing Templars.
Whoever this was, possessed or not, they conducted an extremely effective rebellion against the Chantry and Circle systems. They, as well as the other mages involved, demonstrated that Templars could be resisted. And not just resisted: killed. They could be taken out in large numbers. You can just walk out of a Circle.
That could never be allowed to happen again.
The Right of Annulment meant that, back at the stage where the mages were just ‘mount[ing] several magical attacks against the Templars’, the Templars could just go in and slaughter everybody, without making any effort to discover who was behind the rebellion.
The Right of Annulment is a terror tactic, aimed at suppressing rebellion. The Circle system exists to oppress and contain mages, both for the financial and political gain of the Chantry, and because Orlesian culture is genuinely anti-magic and wants to suppress magic in other cultures. None of this is done for anyone’s safety.
Look at the other times it’s occurred (where we have any details to discuss):
The third time the Right of Annulment was invoked on a Circle of Magi, in 3:09 Towers, Knight-Commander Gervasio of Antiva killed all of the city’s mages for demonic possession. However, a massacre may have already occurred at the hands of Knight-Captain Nicolas, with the Right invoked as cover-up. The Seekers of Truth later apprehended Ser Nicholas, who had left the order to kill mages and admitted to having murdered over a hundred.
Ser Nicholas murdered a bunch of mages, both inside the Circle and out, and the other Templars killed any survivors to prevent retaliation or attempts to seek justice. This is a perfect case of the process Galatea implemented working exactly as intended: the Antivan mages were never given the chance to organise and resist the way the Nevarran mages did. They also claimed they did it because of mass demonic possession, which is why I’m suspicious of the original Glory Age event.
The Annulment in the Broken Circle quest was called due to Uldred’s rebellion:
Uldred will show us the way. Finally, recognition within the Circle and freedom from the scornful eye of the templars. We will not be shunned. Be ready. –Enchanter Gravid, Libertarian
The time is drawing near. Uldred has brought his intentions to light and a confrontation is all but inevitable. We will separate or walk with our brothers, but we will be free. –Enchanter Boson, Libertarian
If blood must be shed and used, so be it. I will follow when he calls. The yoke must be released, whatever the cost. –Enchanter Prist, Libertarian
I have spoken to him directly. His intentions are that we will demand the templars withdraw. I don’t know that I am willing to follow, but I will be present to hear his argument. –Enchanter Fonst, Aequitarian
Madness! I doubt blood will be of use to you if it is flowing down the tower steps. Step away from this folly, before it consumes us all. –Enchanter Luvan, Loyalist
The call is made. We will stride out of here with pride in our step, regardless of outcome. This is for the good of the circle. Uldred will see to it. –Libertarian Rhonus
I can’t take any Templar handwringing over this situation seriously when I have to note that this is, once again, a rebellion. Uldred and his allies had an actual plan: with Loghain’s backing they were going to force the Templars out of the Circle. It is entirely within Templar interests to kill all of these people.
This is also a rare case where we can actually confirm a demon outbreak in the Circle. It is thus a clear example of why ‘containment’, as you’ve put it, is cruel, counterproductive, and indeed itself an outright evil.
If you are confronted by a demon, and lack the strength to fight it, the best thing you can do is leave. The Circle system does not allow mages to do that. They are unable to get away from the demons hunting them, and have no choice but to confront them.
Because the mages could not leave the Circle, what started with a single case of demonic possession, when Uldred fucked up a summoning spell, became a plague. While the timeline on this is somewhat murky, the events of Broken Circle likely took place over two or three days: during that time both mages and Templars who were trapped in the Circle were hunted down by demons and either killed or possessed. This was always bad, but the Circle made it a nightmare.
The Annulment in the Kirkwall Chantry was largely called because Meredith is a terrible person who likes to hurt mages … but, it can certainly be framed as a reaction to what she perceives
as open rebellion:
Varric: The more she squeezed the mages, the more they resisted. The more they resisted, the tighter she squeezed.
Mages have been attempting to flee Meredith’s brutal regime in the Gallows for years:
Here in Kirkwall, citizens actually help rebel mages escape. Escaped apostates have survived their freedom long enough to form the “the mage underground,” a network that feeds and shelters escapees and even transports apostates into remote areas of the Free Marches and beyond our easy reach.
We can’t trust the raiders’ promise of passage - the templar’s bounty on us is far too tempting. Press on every contact you have! We must leave Kirkwall before the knight-commander does something drastic. Each night, more of our brethren make it to the coast.
If the hounds sniff out your current location, the other site we discussed is clear. Be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.
Ultimately, of course, Meredith used Anders’s attack on the Kirkwall Chantry as a pretext for the slaughter. That had fuck all to do with the Circle mages, but it didn’t need to: the Kirkwall mages were already attempting to escape their oppression in large numbers. That couldn’t be permitted. ‘Anders’, ‘demonic possession’, ‘blood magic’ – in the end, any excuse will do, when the point of an Annulment is to both crush the present rebellion and deter anyone who thinks about trying again.
When we heard of the injustices against our fellow mages at the White Spire, the Circle of Magi in Val Royeaux, I feared what was to come. Our Circle at Dairsmuid is small and isolated; it exists largely as a façade to appease the Chantry.
When the other Circles rose up, the Chantry sent Seekers across the bay from Ayesleigh to investigate. They found us mixing freely with our families, training female mages in the traditions of the seers, and denounced us as apostates. Perhaps they thought we were spineless robes who could be intimidated with a little bloodshed. Before I was first enchanter, I was the daughter of Captain Revaud, of the Felicisima Armada. I know how to plan a battle.
They brought with them a small army of templars. We fought. And we might have won. But they invoked the Right of Annulment, with all the unrelenting brutality that allowed. It is their right to put screaming apprentices to the sword, burn our “tainted” libraries, crush irreplaceable artifacts under their heels, tear down the very walls of our home. No mage has the right to disagree.
We of the Dairsmuid Circle wait now, behind barricades. I have sent word to our brother and sister mages of this outrage. When they break through, we will not die alone.
The Annulment at Dairsmuid happened because a large-scale rebellion was already underway. The Dairsmuid Circle is clearly sympathetic to the rebellion – Rivella clearly calls the events at the White Spire an injustice – but given that they are a small Circle, practically speaking they probably couldn’t add much might to the uprising. This Annulment was symbolic: the Rivaini mages have likely been living their lives like this for generations; in the context of the mage uprising any deviation from Chantry dogma could be called ‘rebellion’. This Circle could only be said to be in rebellion in the most technical sense, but that was enough. They killed them all.
The Annulment is not a solution to demon possession. It’s not intended to be. That’s not what it’s for, and that’s not how it’s used. It’s terrorism. I’m sorry for the length of this, but every time I get an Ask like this I feel like I’m somehow failing at a fundamental level to convey the horror of what is going on in Thedas. The grim, ugly persecution and mass murder that is going on day-by-day, and is being sold to the average Thedosian as for their safety. The world of Dragon Age is terrifying, but not because it has demons or mages in it. It’s terrifying because of the amount of power it has ceded to the Chantry, and because of what that means for any person who doesn’t meet the Chantry’s definition of ‘normal’.
Okay. So. How should they handle it?
There’s a flippant part of me that just wants to say ‘Any way other than this!’ Because, honestly, it’s difficult to think of a system that’s worse than the one they have now. But it’s not as though they have no way forward.
The first thing I would say is that simply abolishing the Circle system should alleviate the problem considerably, because you aren’t going to have hundreds of mages packed into a place they can’t leave. You can’t have 500 possessed mages on your hands if only three mages live in your village.
It would also limit several of the causes behind possession: you won’t be forcing people to live in places where the Veil is routinely thinned by blood magic and demon summonings (phylacteries and Harrowings, respectively, and fuck the Chantry for their hypocrisy). You won’t be constantly subjecting people to high-stress situations: Tranquility, the Harrowing, forced separation from your family, long-term confinement, Templars in general, the fact that sometimes your friends just disappear and you have to accept this as normal – you know, the standard horrors of being a Circle mage.
Of course, there will still be cases where relatively large numbers of mages congregate to deal with matters affecting them specifically: classes, lectures, magic-related competitions or other leisure activities, and the political proceedings of the College of Enchanters.
Should any trouble occur in such situations – well, most schools have evacuation and lockdown procedures in place aimed at protecting students and staff when there’s a threat on campus. Why should this situation be any different? No system is ever going to be perfect, and you can’t guarantee that no one is ever going to die (we can’t do that in our world either), but you can have strategies arranged in advance to get people away from danger areas, and on what to do if you find you can’t get out and have to protect yourself until help arrives.
First thing is clear the area. Anyone who is not actively hurting someone else right now gets to evacuate. Right now, I don’t care whether any of the people in the crowd are also possessed. You can test for that, and it may not even be a problem. Unless you currently look like this:
… and you are trying to rip people’s arms off, you get to leave.
Now, yes, that still leaves us with a possessed person. On that point, I would say that the Chantry lands need to completely change how they view spirits, mages and possession. As far as I can tell, everything they think is wrong, and a lot of it is dangerous. The Chantry regards demons as ‘the Maker’s first children’, who turned on humanity out of jealousy. They are inherently evil and irredeemable. That’s not true. No spirit has ever corroborated that story, and All New, Faded for Her demonstrates that a demon is a spirit in pain, and can be healed.
The Chantry regards possession as just about universally a death sentence. And that’s … really not true. There are some cases where possession is just fine. The Chantry would have killed Wynne just as much as Uldred if they knew about her situation. Cullen wants to lock Sigrid in a room with a Templar, because he doesn’t grasp that there’s nothing wrong with her. Your first question, when dealing with a case of possession, should always be ‘Is this actually a problem?’ If not, go away and leave them alone.
Even in cases where you are looking at outright hostile demonic possession, the mage is rarely gone. Connor, untrained child that he is, still surfaces sometimes. Having defeated her Templars attackers with demonic assistance, Evelina first flees from her kids, taking the demon away from them – although she loses control later. Marethari will contain the pride demon with which Merrill has been working until she is clear of her clan and the battle can be fought in seclusion. Grandin’s kind of a weird case, because the possession was voluntary and the two are working together – but it does seem to be a demon. Nevertheless, in that case you can speak to him, and there remains hope that the two might eventually sort themselves out.
We know that mages can be saved from demons. Connor, Feynriel, Fiona, Pharamond – all people who have survived demonic possession. It’s not even necessarily difficult: you can send Jowan in to fight Connor’s demon – this poor hapless apprentice whom they were going to make Tranquil – and he does just fine. Of course, some demons are stronger than others; I’m not saying it’s not a good idea to have specialists. But the Chantry is seriously overstating the problem here.
When possessed, most mages think they are about to die. The brave, the strong, the selfless – they fight to contain the demon until someone can come and kill them so they don’t hurt anyone else. But in those circumstances, it’s all too easy to succumb to despair. Imagine if mages could think, not ‘hold on, they’re coming to kill you’ but ‘hold on, help is on its way’.
So the next thing to do would be ask Dorian. People always seem to forget that Tevinter exists and, given that mages are aristocrats there, would seriously frown on just murdering them out of hand. Anders says in Dragon Age 2 (I haven’t got a screenshot, yet) that they help possessed mages in Tevinter. Now, when you explain to him that your previous plan had just been to murder small children because of demons, Dorian is probably going to yell … a lot. I mean … really a lot. But the entirety of southern Thedas deserves that and worse, so I can’t be too bothered. Get him to send books and specialists. Make this part of the curriculum in the College of Enchanters. It might become part of the Spirit Healer specialisation, since they’re already good with spirits.
Our third thing is … well, asking Solas is probably impractical at the moment, but there are alternatives. We need people who care about spirits and who want to help them. Ask Cole: one way or another, his entire quest line is about providing a spirit with the emotional tools to handle the mortal world. There’s more than one path that works, so regardless of whether you chose more spirit/more human, he should have some insight. Ask the Rivaini, the Dalish, the Avvar. They know about spirits, and they know how to reach the Fade. Some things the Chantry thought were impossible (like safe spirit possession) turn out to be perfectly normal in other cultures.
The Chantry needs to admit they know fuck all about this situation and have been causing incalculable harm for centuries.
This whole process should be regarded like an outbreak of a really complicated illness: get everyone clear of the area, and send in professionals to help, rather than harm. Ideally, everyone should get out of this alive. You should be aiming to save the spirit and the mage. If that’s not possible, you save whom you can. Killing is only ever a last resort.
And finally … now we need to determine whether a criminal act was committed. If you got possessed because you live in Kirkwall, and it’s hard to go three steps without running into a demon, then you are a victim and once you’ve been freed of the demon you have nothing to answer for. If you thought it was a good idea to summon a demon army in your basement to TRY TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD, then we’re going to have to bring in the guard to arrest you.
Now … that’s should. It’s probably not will. The Chantry has ruled Thedas for centuries, and they have taught people that mages want to get possessed and kill people and/or that mages want to be magisters and make everyone else slaves. Making Leliana Divine does not just do away with all that prejudice. She may well ask the questions and do the research – she’s a bright lady, and will just give zero fucks about gossip about talks with Tevinter or ‘barbarian’ cultures – but teaching people not to stab first and think later, not to regard mages as inherently evil at worst and as expendable sinners at best will take time. I expect them to handle many things badly. We haven’t done away with bigotry in the real world either, so.
There’s also the problem of Bioware, because they would really like it if I were deeply conflicted over whether to choose mages or Templars, so I do expect more side quests where they force me to kill possessed mages. I mean – I really hope they stop that shit, but I’m not expecting it.
But Circles and the Annulment are for no one’s protection. Well, no one’s but the Chantry’s. And I say: fuck the whole lot of them.
ok but bc part two did so well i decided to treat ya'll and post part three super early! bad news tho this is the second last part of the series, I hope you all like it!!
Eddie’s shoulders were tense under Richie’s hold. He could
feel the breath from the taller boy fall upon his cheek, and the dark curls he
loved so much melding itself with his own dark hair. Eddie could feel the heat
rise on his cheeks, gladly appreciating Richie covering half his face with his
“Back already?” Mike questioned. Richie snorted before sliding
down beside Eddie, throwing himself on top of Eddie’s lap, his legs tangled
with Eddie’s own.
“Well, long story short.” He puts his arm against the back
of the chair. “I’m a free man.” He showered the group of misfit teens with a
“But you guys were so happy.” Eddie says glancing back at Richie.
The position the boys ended up sitting in was nothing new to the either of
them. Richie draped across Eddie’s lap, Eddie’s arm wrapped around the Richie’s
waist. This is how it had always been. “I saw you earlier, after school. You
guys were acting like perfectly happy couple.”
“Well, Ed. Funny thing, it’s not that hard to fake happy.”
He gripped Eddie’s shoulder with his right hand. “Now, you and me though, I could
work with that.” He winked at Eddie, smirking slightly at the smaller boys
flushed cheeks. “No, faker needed.” He starred for a bit, maybe a little bit
too long. Eddie was beautiful. This was nothing new to Richie, he had harboured
a crush on the boy all through most of their childhood. From the lack of any
present and reliable parental figure, Eddie was one of the only constant Richie
had in his life growing up. Despite the Loser’s being there most of the time as
well, Eddie had always been Richie’s favourite. The former friendship had only
begun due to the relatively easy flow between the two. They would bicker back and
forth but knew when to draw the line. Richie admired the fact that Eddie could
bounce back from whatever insult he through at him, he challenged the boy to
think and come up with bigger and better content for future conversations.
Richie in simple words loved Eddie. He loved him with his entire
being. From head to toe. Richie would do anything for this boy just to see his
bright smile. Whether that was taking on a murderous shapeshifting clown or sneaking
into his bedroom window at three am, to bring him a hot chocolate when he was
feeling down. Nothing was too much. Most of Richie’s waking thoughts were spent
hoping that Eddie was safe and having a good day, missing him when he wasn’t
there and wondering when he was going to be back. And If that isn’t love, well
Richie didn’t know what was.
An extensive ‘Um,’ was drawn out by one of the remaining
four Loser’s sitting at the table. Too wrapped up in his own thoughts Richie
hadn’t yet noticed the departure of Ben, Mike and Bev all claiming they were
going to get a head start on playing Streetfighter. Ben exclaiming that he
needs all the practice he can get if he wants to beat Richie anytime soon. “So,
Bill and I are going to go play some pinball, we’ll see you both later yeah?” Waiting
for no response Stan dragged Bill off toward the pinball machines. Face
flustered at the tension which had settled in-between the two boys in question.
Eddie shifted his position to face Richie more directly, pulling
at Richie’s waist to turn his body with his own. Richie tightened his grip
around the boy’s neck hopefully making the situation a little easier. Richie always
commended the boy at his ability to hold his weight so easily considering the
dramatic size difference. The boy had yet to make any eye contact with Richie,
he starred down into his lap and played with his fingers. He mumbles something
under his breath which Richie had no hope in hearing. “Sorry Eds, couldn’t
quiet hear you.” Richie teased the poor boy. Eddie took in deep breathe before clearing
his throat. He glanced up into Richie’s warm honey eyes.
“You, uh – you said earlier you were in love with someone
else?” Swallowing down all the courage Eddie possessed to confront Richie, he
flickered his eyes to behind Richie’s face where all five losers are standing. They
all give a reassuring nod to Eddie. He took in a deep breathe knowing this wasn’t
to end the way they all were hoping. “Why did you never tell me who it was?”
Gasping loudly, Richie’s mouth opened wide as he stared at
Eddie with a hand clenched to the shirt covering his heart. “My boy, I thought
you already knew.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and narrowed his eyes, still
awaiting his answer. “Your Mom Ed’s. I’m in love with your Mother. Mrs.K. You
better get used to having another Da- “Richie was cut short by Eddie throwing
him off his lap. He landed hard on the ground with an ‘oof’ Richie sat in shock,
he looked at the boy with a smirk playing on his lips. Eddie’s face remained void
of any emotion as he stood over him and walked away.
shouted as he watched his figure faded into the overly crowd arcade.
All five losers had watched the scene play out. From Eddie pushing
Richie onto the ground, to the part where the boy wiped away the tears leaking from
his eyes as he walked past them, slamming the door shut. They all glanced over
to Richie, mouths wide open as he starred at the door with confusion on his
face. “W-what the fuck Rich!” Bill voice boomed across the room. Richie stood
form the floor and headed toward his friends.
“All you had to do
was not be a dick, for once in your life.” Bev piped up, crossing her arms over
her chest and narrowing her eyes at him.
“What did I do?”
Stan scoffed from behind Bill, “I told you it wouldn’t work.
Richie is too- he’s too Richie Tozier.” Stan said with a wave of his arms as he
gestured up and down Richie’s body. “Now poor Eddie’s all heartbroken and shit.”
“Did you listen to anything he had to say?” Mike raised his eyebrows
at Richie waiting for a reply. Richie was slightly speechless as he looked among
“He hadn’t said anything!” Stan scoffed in response.
“Ah, so you didn’t even let him say anything before you were
a dick!” Richie squinted his eyes at Stan, slightly insulted.
“He asked me who I was in love with, I said his Mom.” Ben
groaned and if Bev could face palm Riche right now she would.
“G-go talk to him.” Bill said awfully loud if they hadn’t
already attracted most of the arcades attention by now, they just did. Stan stepped
in-between Bill and Mike to come face to face with Richie. Being the only two
in the group who rivalled in height. Stan’s facial expression was extremely aggressive,
if Richie were to say the least.
“I don’t have any clue as to why, but he’s in love with you,
you fuckface! Now go see him before he changes his goddamn mind!” Richie’s eyes
widen, flickering back and forth as he processes the information. A quick ‘shit’
was whispered from under his breath as he ran toward the door. Bumping into children
and tripping every few feet. The Loser’s yet again stood back and watched the
gangly limbed boy child make his way to the one and only person who will ever
be able to stand him. With a shake of his head Stan headed back to the table, “He
better not fuck it up again.”
A/N Hey my dudes, hope you liked this part! I’m super excited for thr next one tbh. If you have any feed back much would be appreciated! I hope you are all having a nice day! x
if any of you guys wanna be tagged for part 4 lemme know.
Well— Wade finds out Peter is an Omega. That’s all I’m going to say lol
Thanks so much for all the love on this fic so far! I tagged everyone who showed interest in Chapter One, as well as those who messaged me so if you need to be TAKEN OFF/ ADDED TO the list, hit up my ask box, that’s the best way to make sure I remember since I don’t always remember to check comments before posting. Also I tried to tag several people and couldnt for some reason (sorry) and also sorry if you were tagged twice!
Excited to hear what you guys think!
For New Readers– My Spideypool Is Andrew G./Ryan Reynolds.
Enjoy :) **************** Peter had set out early tonight, heading across the city to think through a few things that had been on his mind lately.
And by a few things, he meant Deadpool. Specifically Deadpool. Only Deadpool.
Their patrol last night, where the little girl had almost died– it had shaken Peter to his core and Deadpool had stepped up to comfort him. Sure it had been an odd sort of comfort that involved sexual innuendos and rampant teasing… but the Alpha hadn’t just left. Hadn’t just shrugged off the emotions and moved on. And Deadpool didn’t know that Peter was just as susceptible, if not more susceptible, as the Alpha was to the fear and panic pouring off the people they saved. He didn’t know Peter felt every pulse of hormones or pheremones and had to force himself not to react to every emotion from everyone every time he interrupted a crime.
He also didn’t know that Peter could read every emotion coming from him, every time his confidence wavered, every time a flash of fear ran through him. Peter was well aware the Alpha was only about half as brave and maybe three quarters as reckless as he pretended to be.
And last night when Peter had been so upset, waves of empathy, comfort, security had rolled off the Alpha in waves and Peter had wanted to sit there for hours and soak it up.
And when the security had changed to interest…well Peter had wanted to soak that up for hours too.
But Deadpool was sure his Friendly Neighborhood Spider Man was just his Friendly Neighborhood Beta, so any of that was just… off the table. Most Alphas only hooked up with Betas, saving their mating bonds and love for Omegas. And Peter couldn’t just hook up– not without exposing his Omega biology, and not without getting his heart broken.
First off, can I just say that these episodes seem really short. Also, this season feels more like something that needs to be binge watched as opposed to one episode at at time. Having said that, let’s get on with it.
For the past few episodes, people have been drawing a comparison between Sansa’s hairstyle and Cersie’s and I just had a thought about it. We already know about the prophecy that says Cersie will be dethroned by another queen, one who is more beautiful than her, she will take everything from her. So far, the only other queen anywhere near Cersie is Sansa. This is where the hair comes in. We know that the costume designers and hair stylists are meticulous when it comes to crafting the look of every character in the show. Sansa’s hair mirroring Cersie is no accident, nor does it mean that Sansa is turning into her. I think it’s the show runners’ way to drawing a parallel between the two women. They have both been through extremely traumatic events, been betrayed, used and abused but have come out of as very different women. Cersie’s loss of her children, spelled her doom, her children humanised her, kept her grounded. But she turned from Tommen even before he killed himself. She gave up on him when he repeatedly undermined Cersie, his own mother. When she was forbidden from even saying goodbye to Myrcella, Tommen did nothing. All of these little things turned her away from him. Meanwhile, so far, Sansa has only known abuse in one form or another, it is only now, at Winterfell that she has some semblance of control and power over what happens next and her own actions.
Unlike both Dany and Cersie, who rule from high towers and palaces, Sansa walks among her people, seeing them work, getting involved in the little things, while also knowing that it is important to delegate, it is important that the people who work for her, know that she sees their value and trusts them to handle things on their own. Dany is not yet a Queen, not in the real sense and so far both she and Tyrion have been outsmarted and outclassed by Cersie.
We know that Cersie is very likely insane but she has still has her sharp mind, the things she learned from Tywin are still very much part of her. Tyrion never spent much time with Tywin and Dany is so confident about her dragons that she’s never had to think about strategies. And then you have Sansa, someone who lived at King’s Landing and spent a great deal of time with Cersie before her engagement to Joffrey was annulled. She watched Tywin and Tyrion work, she saw the court and the games people played. Even now, she is learning from Little Finger. he’s a little creep but you can see her absorb his counsel when it is sound. In my opinion, the only person who is likely to outsmart Cersie is Sansa.
I believe the other Queen in the prophecy is Sansa becuase of their shared history. They know each other whereas Dany and Cersie are adversaries but they’ve never met. They know of each other but that’s it. Dany hasn’t had anyone from the Lannister house killed and it is the same with Cersie. But Joffrey killed Ned Stark, Tywin organised the massacre that killed both Robb and Catelyn, they set up the Boltons in Winterfell. The Lannisters and Cersie and Joffrey are personally responsible for all the misery that Sansa has suffered. And Cersie believes that Sansa killed Joffrey or helped Tyrion do it.
We’ve seen all three women rule and there are stark similarities between Cersie and Dany. If not for Tyrion, Dany would have sent her forces to King’s Landing and taken it by force, collateral damage be damned. It was Tyrion who stayed her hand. Cersie has no such qualms. she saw a chance to take out all her enemies in one fell swoop and she took it. She didn’t care that she inadvertently also killed her own son. Dany has never lived at KL, she doesn’t care about it or its people. They are not her people. It is not her home. For her, taking the Iron Throne is purely based on power, she wants to rule the Seven Kingdoms, it’s all about her, her quest for the throne, her belief in herself. It’s not really about the people, they don’t feature in her grand plan. I am not saying that she’ll turn evil or is evil, just that they don’t fit, at least not in the prophecy.
Sansa’s hair matching Cersie’s, the Cersie who could occasionally be kind, who was still ruthless and who protected her family at all costs. That’s the part of Cersie in Sansa right now. She’s home and she’s slowly getting her family back and she will fight tooth and nail to make sure that they are safe. Sansa is the perfect foil to Cersie, this is who Cersie could have been had she been less hungry for power.
On a side note, I am inclined to believe that the cancellation of marriage between Joffery and Sansa was possibly one of the rare moments when Cersie was perhaps a little sympathetic to Sansa. Cersie never liked Margaery, she didn’t really care about what happened to her. Contrast that with the time she spent with Sansa, she told her about Joffrey, told her that he would never love her or be gentle with her. In her own way, she was trying to prepare Sansa for what was sure to be a truly horrible marriage. She does none of that with Margaery. Even at Sansa’s wedding to Tyrion, when Joffrey starts going towards Sansa, she tries to stop him and draw his attention to his own betrothed, sitting alone and looking bored and he shrugs her off.
The dynamic between these two women is so complex and layered that it’s fascinating to analyse which is why it would be fitting to see these two women facing off, as opposed to Cersie against Dany.
This is not a funny story, but after all the fluffiness I wrote lately, I wanted to write something…kinda sad. Not the angstiest story I ever written but…just not just fluff. There’s still some fluffy moments though, and maybe you won’t find it sad at all, maybe it won’t touch you (and didn’t proofread because of reasons), it’s also maybe a bit (a lot) cheesy but…Oh well, hope you’ll still like it :
-If you don’t, they will both die. It’s as simple as that, you have to take a decision. Now.
Bruce’s head is spinning, and he cannot hear anything else but the fast beating of his heart. Why was this happening ? Why couldn’t something go right for once ? Hasn’t he and his family suffered enough already ?
He feels light headed and sits down on the cold metal chair, in a cold and way too bright hospital corridor. His sons are here, and he just faintly feels their hands supporting him, helping him sit down, stroking his back soothingly, hugging him to try and make him feel better…But he cannot feel better.
He has to make an impossible choice.
Mercilessly, the doctor insists once more, because time is running out :
-Your wife, or the child mister Wayne ? We cannot save both of them.
His wife, or his child.
How could he choose ?
He wakes up with a start, and by instinct reaches for you…but you’re not here. You haven’t been here for the past month and a half. Unable to soothe him back to sleep after one of his nightmare, as you would usually do.
Bruce felt like he was back when he was eight years old and just lost his parents. Back in Crime Alley that fateful night.
He couldn’t see the light, all hope had left him, all will of living slowly faded away, and he was full of so much anger and sadness.
Angry at the World, angry at life, angry at you…but the sorrow he felt was stronger. And he couldn’t use his anger, he couldn’t be strong this time, turn his life around to be able to live with the thought of loosing someone he loved so much, he couldn’t bear to live like this…Without you. He needed you. Your support. Your presence. Holding you in his arms was all he craved for…He looked at the spot you haven’t occupied in a month and a half and sighed.
He was almost hoping you’d open the bathroom door, and come back to bed with him, smiling…But you wouldn’t.
Not because you died, but because he “let your daughter die”.
Summary: After your brother gets hurt and has surgery, Jared offers him a place to stay in your guest bedroom, and you become his live-in nurse.
Word Count: ~1,300
Warnings: rude family members, fed up Jared, exhaustion, cursing, very minor talk of medical situations/post-surgery things
A/N: Basically this has been my life for the past few days, since my brother’s accident, so I decided to write it out because it’s the only thing I know to do anymore. Gif submitted to me by @lizmalfoywayland
Beta: None, and it’s completely unedited; all mistakes are mine.
Flopping down into your bed, you closed your eyes briefly and awaited the next call of your name from the guest room. It came sooner than you expected, causing you to lick your lips and inhale through your nose, closing your eyes.
“Be right there.” You pushed yourself up on your elbows and slung your legs off the side of the bed. You trudged into the guest bedroom and leaned against the doorframe. “What’s up?”
“I’m hungry.” Your brother shrugged.
“It’s almost midnight…” You sighed, earning another shrug from him. “What do you want?”
Pairing: Marinette/Chat Noir, Ladybug/Chat Noir Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is not someone he ever thought he’d fall for. If love is meant for his life, he assumes Ladybug will be the one. Fate, however, has a funny way of working things out. Rating: K+
Marinette Dupain-Cheng is not someone he ever thought he’d fall for. If love is meant for his life, he assumes Ladybug will be the one.
Fate, however, has a funny way of working things out.
It starts with a girl and a daring rescue because that’s how these stories always go.
However, Marinette isn’t someone he ever thought would need rescuing, but when there’s an akuma chasing his friend through the streets of Paris, there isn’t time to ponder all the ways he’s wrong. Saving civilians comes second nature to him after two years as one half of Paris’s famed superhero duo, so sweeping in with a kick and a flip to rescue a pretty lady is pretty commonplace. It doesn’t take much trouble but Marinette, on the other hand, likes to make sure that there is trouble.
“Put me down, you stupid cat,” she orders, pulling his arms which are wrapped around her waist as they soar onto the nearest rooftop.
Without breaking stride, he slings her onto his back to free both hands for battle and escape, dashing around chimneys and skylights, putting distance between them and the akuma. Meanwhile, Marinette is kicking against his torso, expletives mixed with his name falling from her lips, and he ignores it in favor of saving her life. He figures she’ll thank him someday.
When they finally reach a rooftop that he deems safe, he kneels until her feet touch the ground and whips around with a flourish, bowing low with a knowing smirk. “You are safe, my Princess, no need to thank—”
The Spring Exchange fic authors have been revealed, so I can post this here now!
This was my exchange fic for @baneismydragon! I hope you enjoy(ed) it, you gave a really good prompt! Shout out to @reyxa for lending me her soulmates au where the sneezes of soulmates sync up.
Summary: "After pouring two packs of chocolate powder in each mug, she felt a sudden sensation in her sinuses thanks to the powder that remained in the air. Quickly, she put her finger below her nose, pleased when the sneeze stopped. After that, it was quick work to pour the water and stir the mix in, and just as she was about to bring them out-
She stared at the mugs of hot chocolate, her eyes impossibly wide. There was no way. She had to be dreaming. She did not just hear three consecutive sneezes come from her friends in the living room.”
Or, a soulmate au where the sneezes of soulmates sync up after you meet them.
“Alright, class, we’ve got two new students joining us this semester. Please, introduce yourselves for us,” their teacher, Madame Bustier, said.
Standing in front of the rest of the class were two students, one that looked excited and fiery, and another that looked shy and awkward. To the class’ surprise, the shy one spoke first.
“Hi, my name’s Adrien, and I look forward to working with all of you in the future.” He punctuated his statement with a quick little wave and a sweet smile.
After he finished speaking, the other spoke. “I’m Alya, and I just moved nearby from across the city.”
Madame Bustier gave them both a smile and gestured for them to find their seats. Alya moved instantly, spotting an empty seat in the second row, next to a girl she’d actually ran into before school started. Adrien rubbed his arm, his eyes sweeping across the room. He saw a childhood friend of his waving for him to sit by her, but he cringed when he saw her trying to push her seatmate out for him. In the hopes of letting the poor girl keep her seat, Adrien sat as close as he could by taking the empty seat in front, next to a student that looks uninterested in what was going on.
While the two settled in, their teacher was about to continue speaking when two synchronized sneezes sounded from the back of the room. Adrien and Alya both turned to look, eyes wide at actually having a pair of soulmates in their classroom. They saw a couple sitting next to each other in the row behind Alya, both of them blushing a tiny bit as their hands intertwined.
Patient though she may be, when Adrien and Alya didn’t look away, Madame Bustier cleared her throat and brought their attention back to her. It was only then that the two noticed nobody else had turned to gawk, which could only mean they all knew already.
“I understand that soulmates are an interesting topic to talk about, let alone see in person, but we do have class to tend to, Monsieur Agreste and Mademoiselle Césaire.” With that, she turned around and started writing on the board. Adrien looked sheepish and stared down at his desk while Alya turned to the girl beside her and started whispering.
“So girl, mind spilling the beans on those two behind us?” she asked, not quiet enough to keep Adrien and his seatmate from hearing. “Are they really… you know?”
“What have you DONE!?” Darkiplier demanded, rising to his feet. His voice broke with fury and his shell buckled under the weight of a demons rage, unintentional yelling occurring in close spurts that was quickly drowned out by the others yelling, just as enraged.
Googles body jerked back and forth and his voice glitched more rapidly than it did on average, his anger feeding off of Darks. Ed was yelling inappropriate slurs and Bim’s anger was mostly related to getting no spotlight in the, as he described, ‘Show as shitty as the pink rat on his lip’.
Silver, too, was primarily angry about the sun not shining on him in the show, while Dr. Iplier and the Host sat silent, a satisfied smirk on Dr. Ipliers face as he kept his back to Dark and stared at Warfstache.
The Host was facing towards his folded arms, and murmuring to himself the events unfolding before him. He had nothing valuable to add to the conversation since he knew this would happen and knows how this will end. He dreaded the conversations climax.
“You’re not the only one controlling this herd, Dark!” Wilford said, standing as well and locking eyes with the gray spectrum man opposite of him, their brown eyes locking and tension crackling between the two. “We’ve agreed this is a shared burden and we must make decisions together, you deciding that this was a bad idea without input from me is not what we’ve agreed on for the years we’ve been working as partners!”
“You’re acting like a selfish toddler in the midst of a tantrum and you are in no condition to make such high staking decisions without further consulting me,” Dark retaliated, his eyes narrowed to slits and his brow furrowed, his lip drawn upwards into a growl.
“You’VE led-led-led us evEn FARther FROM Our p-pri-priiimary oBjecTIVe,” Google said, his fingernails digging into the wooden table and leaving indents, the constant jerking back and forth as he glitched leaving long swooping scratches that looked like cat claws raking at something that had run across the furniture. “You-You’re a FOOl if yOu B-B-Beliiiieve thiis wo-won’t have DIre ConsssIqueNCEs.”
“Sit your broken ass down, Google. I won’t hesitate to factory reset you,” Warfstache threatened, his brown eyes flicking towards the software who met his gaze for a second before turning away and looking at his hands.
“Everybody, please, settle down!” Dr. Iplier said, standing up and looking around the room, all eyes on him except for the four that were arguably the most powerful of the nine egos. “I know this may seem bad but please, take into consideration the benefits! After all, I am a doctor and I know best, so if I say that this is good then this must be good.”
Dark glared towards Dr. Iplier and his chair quickly scooted into the table, buckling the alleged doctors legs and forcing him to sit back down, and the man in the white coat looked to the furious demon and felt his blood run cold, adverting eye contact and going silent.
The Host mumbling was beginning to be heard as the intimidation of Dark and Warfstache caused the last three to sit down if they were standing and slowly quiet down as well, the room filled with an uncomfortable silence and the tension was thick enough you could cut it.
“Wilford began to speak,” The Host whispered, immediately followed by Warfstache hitting the table with his fist, drawing all attention to him.
“Wilford’s had enough of this shit,” he said, not breaking eye contact with Dark despite addressing everyone in the room. “You’re all blaming me and you don’t even know what for! We have no idea what stir the video will cause so crawl off your high horse as if you’re above me because at least I had the gonads to stand up against Dark when none of you dare look him in the eye. If this backfires, then you have every right to sit here and ridicule me, but until then don’t act like you can predict the future. You’ll have to be patient like everyone else and just wait.”
Silence carried on again, the tension and expectations still high and The Host had resorted to mouthing the story unraveling in front of him.
“Ok, Wilford,” Darkiplier said, slowly sitting down again and readjusting his tie and brushing a lock of hair from his face. “We’ll wait and see what kind of reaction your project gets. But I’m warning you now,” Dark continued still locking eyes with Wilford. “If this sets back our plan for even five seconds, your consequences will be devastating.”
“Alright, fine,” Wilford sighed, combing some hair to the side with his fingers and brushing off his shirt.
“Good. If that’s all that there is to discuss, then meeting is adjourned,” Dark announced, and in immediate response practically everyone in the room gathered anything they might have brought with them and piled out of the office, eager to escape the room still heavy with anger and discomfort. The only two that stayed were The Host and Darkiplier.
“You should’ve told me,” Dark said, his narrowed eyes casting a glare towards the Host who didn’t turn away from his arms.
“…It wouldn’t have changed anything,” The Host responded in a hushed voice. “All paths pointed to the disobedience of Wilford no matter how many words you, I, or anyone shared. If every reality is certain of a single action then that action will be performed in every reality. I’m sorry, Dark, but warning you would’ve done nothing but waste both of our time.”
“That’s for me to decide, not you,” Dark said, his voice hissing with anger. “I’ve kept you by my side and I’ve put you first countless of times. Who saved you and healed you after you were shot and left for dead in a shed out in the middle of nowhere?”
The Host was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke he was as quiet as a terrified child answering obediently to a furious parent. “You,” he said, his voice cracking slightly as he strained to make himself heard.
“Yes, and now you are repaying my generosity with unjustified disobedience?” Dark demanded, his hand clenched into a fist. “All I’ve asked you to do was tell me of any future events that will negatively or positively affect me, is that really too much? Tell me now before it’s too late because I can remove you very quickly if need be.”
“…That won’t be necessary,” The Host said, his fingers scratching his arms anxiously. “This won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”
“You’re better than this, Author,” Dark said, standing up as well. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you do this again.”
Dark once again readjusted his hair and the gray around him flickered as he disappeared, leaving the Host alone in the conference room once again, where he faced the wall for a long moment before putting his face against the table and hiding himself, wrapping his arms around his head and letting out a short, shaky breath.
Okay you guys I was really
naughty…Instead of a chapter update here is my first ever oneshot! I was going
to do a Xiumin one first but someone suggested a Kyungsoo wolf au and I
couldn’t get the idea out of my head. I hope you enjoy it if not let me know if
something didn’t make sense!
Summary: Eunbi is a shifter who
catches a delicious scent that belongs to a sexy man who looks out of place at
the club she works at. What is this serious looking man doing in a place like
this? The killer look in his eyes tells her he is on a mission.
Word count: 4046
Kyungsoo x OC
I grip the bars of the cage,
growling loudly at the man who has been trying to grope me through the bars for
the last thirty minutes. He jumps away surprised by the sound, of course, most
humans are. But he snaps back quickly mumbling under his breath.
“Kitty can growl,” He muses, not
expecting me to hear over the booming music, but of course I did. “Bitch
wouldn’t be so brave if she wasn’t in the fucking cage.”
An amuse smirk graces my face,
showing him my fangs as I slowly crouch down, “They have me in here for your
protection, not mine.” I hiss at him, showing loud and clear I want nothing to
do with him and his rotten smell.
Once again he jumps back, “Crazy
The smile never leaves my face as I
slowly stand up straight, making sure to stick my ass out as I go. The music
switches to something with a faster beat, my friend not to far away howls
loudly from her own cage before she begins thrashing to the music. I see her
yellow eyes glow in the darkness, I’m sure she can see mine glowing their usual
blue. I chuckle at the sight of her chucking her massive heels into the crowd,
not caring if they hit someone, they were in the way of her wolf working her
cage. Mine had been lost long before these early morning hours amongst the
disgusting men who took them for god knows what reason.
I don’t mind really, I would have
kicked them out at some point, my tigress purred with satisfaction the moment I
took them off and began working my cage how I should, like the animal I am. I
move my body to the music, whipping my long black hair around happily, enjoying
the chaos around me. My cage is placed on podium in the middle of the dance
floor about five feet up, allowing me to see everyone on the dance floor and at
the bar. The hoards of people around me, some human some shifters, some other
things I’m not sure about but know for sure they aren’t either of the two
listed above. They smother each other in pheromones making the whole warehouse
reek of sex.
The people wear many different
things, none of it covers much skin though, but who am I to talk. Tonight we
are belly dancers, golden bras encrusted with red gems and matching bottoms with
the long mesh skirt and jingling sequence. I twirl a few times, just enjoying
how the outfit moves when I catch a scent. The familiar scent sneaks into my
mind and consumes it, my body buzzes, my body keeps moving to the music but my
mind is somewhere else. I slyly scan the crowd for a familiar pale man and his
companions, regardless of the fact that the scent is not his own it’s the only
place I can find the addicting aroma.
Like chocolate and sweets.
It’s driving me fucking insane.
It’s stronger this time, telling me the actual owner of this delicious scent is
here, he is fucking here. Why the hell did I agree to be in the cage today? I
growl at myself, frightening a few patrons by my feet but I don’t care I need
to find out who this is coming from. The music slows down once again, turning
the crowd from a mob of chaos to just one of grinding and sex. My hips move
slowly to the music, masters at their work they draw all sorts of attention to
me. The scent slowly mixes with arousal, my eyes scan over the crowd once more
as my tongue drags along my lips.
I spot him.
He’s completely out of place amongst
the half naked crowd in a three piece suit. There is a drink in his hand and
pretty little slut on his arm but his eyes are fixated on me. It takes all of
myself control and the strength of the shifter proof bars to keep me from
getting out of this fucking cage and tearing that girl to pieces. I catch
myself for moment, where the hell did this come from? I’m not a territorial
person, I share an apartment, a car, my clothes, my food, there is nothing I
really keep to myself, until now I guess because I want him.
My mind screams.
My anger and desire to get out
becomes more pathetic, a small whine escapes me when the slut giggles and
strokes his cheek. To my surprise he is on his feet, pushing the girl away he
finally makes his way through the crowd to me. Even though I’m completely over
joyed that his delicious scent is coming over, fear settles in the pit of my
stomach when I feel his dominance and anger pouring out of him. The crowd parts for
him like the red sea, the other shifters in the crowd pull the humans with them
to keep them from the murderous look in the man’s eyes. Man, I want to scoff at
myself, he is a beast, werewolf through and through, fucking great. My tigress
is confused on how to feel, my initial instinct is to hiss at the wolf prowling
towards me but at the same time I’m ready to jump him.
Eyes as black as coal stare me
down, I drop to my knees so our faces are much closer allowing me to see more
than I could when he was in the dark bar area. I lean down on my elbows allowing
my hands to slip through the bars and rest his cheeks. My fingers feel a long
his masculine jaw line, grinning when I think of how I’m going to mark up that
neck of his. A pink tongue runs across those heart shaped, drawing my attention
back to his features, round eyes and a small nose. Brown hair that is gelled
back out his handsome face seems a bit more messed up than I imagine it should
be, as if he has been running his hands through it all day. His cheeks get
warmer under my hands, a pink hue cross them as I continue to study him. I find
myself leaning in closer, pulling him closer as I move, just barely through the
bars I manage to graze his lips with my own. It’s a small touch but it causes a
snarl to start in his chest. His eyes glow a blood red.
But at this point I’m too turned on
to care about anything other than getting out of this cage and getting
someplace where this wolf can show me how much of an alpha he really is.
“As much as I would love to play
with you Mr. Wolf I’m a bit stuck,” I muse obviously breathless., taking ahand
away to shake the bars, showing their lack of mobility.
He only hums in response, making me
frown, I want to hear the voice behind those pink lips. His eyes scan over the
cage, he grabs one of the bars and shakes it, it doesn’t give.
“Told you, unless you are like the
strongest werewolf imaginable I’m not getting out of here,” This time I’m less
amused and more frustrated. “Mr. Wolf please get me out, I’m dying in here.”
His growl echoes once more.
“Okay, I’m not actually dying but
I’m dying to get out of this cage so I can fucking grab you by the neck and
kiss you properly,” I confess, a bit embarrassed that some random stranger can
get me hot an bothered like this without even touching me. “If you can get me
out of here I’m all yours,” I promise, hating myself for basically begging. But
that seems to be all he needs to grab on to two of the bars and pull them
apart, giving me enough space to squeeze through. I stare dumb struck for a
moment as he does it without a problem, from my personal experience it should
have definitely been a problem so when he offers me his hand to get down
suddenly I’m hesitant.
He lets out a hearty chuckle that
warms my chest, “I was promised something and I’m not leaving without it.”
“Um, Mr. Wolf, you aren’t Mr. Big
Bad Wolf, are you?” I half heartedly tease, praying I’m not handing myself over
to some crazy wolf.
He cocks his head, “If I am?”
“Okay Kitten you have until the
count of five to take my hand before I climb in there and let me tell you
something,” He leans closer, “I’ve always wanted to claim someone in front of a
crowd. Have them all listen as you scream my name,” That voice has me almost
coming undone right then and there. “One… Two… Three… Four…”
I’m sliding through the bars and
into his arms before he has the chance to follow through on his dream. He
smiles triumphantly, keeping one arm wrapped around my shoulders possessively
as he leads me towards the exit. Once again the crowd parts for us, for him, no
one dares to even look in our direction until we reach the door where the
bouncer steps in front of us. I know the large man well, he’s one of our few
human bouncers so of course he doesn’t notice the threatening pheromones
rolling off my partner in waves. He blocks the doorway with his large body,
regardless of the fact that he is half a foot taller and at least fifty pounds
heavier than my partner I have no doubt the alpha could tear him to pieces.
I give the bouncer a begging smile
hopping he will get the hint and realize I’m not being kidnapped, at least not
really. But he doesn’t and reaches for me, “Where the hell do you think you are
going with one of our dancers?” The bouncer snaps.
The alpha quickly pushes me behind
him, he grabs the bouncer’s hand in his own and stares the man down as his grip
tightens, slowly crushing the bouncer’s fist. I quickly get back in between
them, ingoring the alpha’s free hand that is trying to drag me behind him again
and grab on to the tie around his neck. I wrap my hands around it a few times
bringing him to my level, our foreheads pressed together.
His red eyes bore into mine,
“Kitten,” He warns with a deep growl.
“Lets go,” I half beg, hopping not
to cause a scene.
“He tried to take you,” The alpha
snarls, his eyes flick to the bouncer who is on his knees behind me, whimpering
“Look at me,” I command, “Let him
go.” A sigh of relief leaves me, allowing me to smile. I let his tie unwrap a
few times but keep a solid grip on the end and tug him gently. “Come on,” I
muse playfully, urging him on like puppy. As much as I can tell his wolf
doesn’t like it he obeys and follows me out of the warehouse to where all the
cars are parked. “I assume you drove?” I turn to face him, his eyes are fixed
on my hand still holding the end of his tie. I let it go and awkwardly laugh,
not sure if I crossed a line, though I have no idea where the lines are at all
at the moment. He grabs my hand and leads me to the obviously most expensive
thing in a mile radius of this side of town. He leads me to the passengers side
door of the imported sports car, I expect him to open the door for me but
instead he pins me against it. His hands on either side of me gripping the car
until his knuckles are white. Those glowing red eyes are once again fixated on
“Don’t ever do that again,” He
I puff out my cheeks, “Sorry, I
just was trying to be playful.”
He snarls, “Not that. Don’t ever
try to get in between me and someone who is trying to take you away. Most
people who try to take what is mine are lucky to get away with their lives, but
anyone who dares to try and take you are lucky to just get their throats ripped
“So you are saying that…”
“You are mine.”
My tigress purrs.
“Now get in the car before I take
you right here and now.” He turns and rushes to get in his own door. Turning
around I see that his grip has left dents on the top of the car, I snicker,
though it would be a lie to say my body isn’t vibrating with excitement. The possessiveness
in his words makes me have to press my thighs together, what the fuck is this
man doing to me. His engine roars to life and he speeds out of the parking lot
and down the road to the main part of Seoul. It’s awkwardly silent for most of
the drive, my legs are trembling and his knuckles are white from gripping the
“So, should we tell each other
names or are you more of the one and done, don’t need to know names, kind of
guy?” I muse awkwardly.
“One and done?” He gives me a side-glance
with those fucking eyes.
“I know you said, ‘you are mine’,
but I don’t know if that’s just a thing wolves did to get laid.” He pulls into
an underground garage and parks his car. He doesn’t acknowledge me at all as he
climbs out of the car. I groan and rest my head against the dash, “Maybe he
wasn’t questioning what it meant and was just telling me what he wanted as if
it was obvious. I hate wolves.”
He rips open my car door and pulls
me out. Without a word and drags me to the elevator and refuses to let me go
the whole ride up to the top floor, penthouse, of course. Fucking Alphas. The
minute we reach his floor he drags me out into a hall way and up to a pair of
double doors that I assume lead to his apartment, and like in the elevator he
refuses to let me go until with are inside. Once the doors are closed I’m
pressed against them, he pins my hands on either side of my head, his body
presses against mine.
“You hate wolves?” He muses.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I
pout, regardless of the position we are in at the moment.
“One and done?” He echoes once
It would be a lie to say it didn’t
hurt me to hear him say that.
“What a stupid thing to even
suggest,” He chuckles as his nose runs along my jaw. “Wolves mate for life,” He
punctuates that sentence with his fangs pressed firmly against my neck.
My tigress roars.
Of fucking course he is my mate,
that is why I’ve wanted nothing more than for him to fuck me since the moment I
saw him. The realization has me growling, “Why he hell couldn’t you have said
that sooner? I wouldn’t have put up such a fight if I had know you were my mate
and not some stranger who just has me hot and bothered!”
He chuckles, “What kind of fight
did you put up? It was so easy to just steel you away.” I gulp when I feel his
fangs run along my neck, “It’s like you were just begging to be snatched up,
“Eunbi,” I blurt out.
He hums, “Kyungsoo.”
“Kyungsoo,” I test the name out on
He groans from his place in the
crook of my neck, “Say it again.”
“Kyungsoo,” I say a bit more
breathless this time. Suddenly he has me over his shoulder caring me through
his apartment that I would actually like to look around in but apparently at a
different time. I’m laid down on a massive bed, he stares down at me, putting
all his weight on his one arm so his free hand can stroke my cheek gently.
“I promise that I will take the
time to make love to you gently and romantically, but not today. Tonight I have
watched dozens of men eye fuck you, my wolf is going insane with jealousy, I
need to be inside you.”
I chuckle as I slowly open my legs
a bit more, “All you had to do was say so.” He leans down and kisses me like
his life depends on it. It’s not soft or gentle, it’s pure animal, tongues
battle for dominance, I try even though I have no chance at beating him. That
doesn’t stop me from cheating and pushing his elbow so I can flip him over and
have the upper hand for a moment. To my surprise he doesn’t throw a fit, too
focused on the intense make out session we are in. I pull away, ignoring the
whine that he makes, to pull off my annoying shirt, if you can call it that. I
reach for his but he seems too much rather go back to kissing and pulls me back
in. With one hand gripping the back of my neck, keeping our lips pressed
together, the others finds its way to my hip.
“Off,” I demand between kissing,
pulling at his suit jacket and button up. He ignores me and tries to work on
getting my bottoms off. I growl and shamelessly tear away his expensive looking
shirt and the t-shirt underneath, revealing his toned chest. I escape his lips
once more to leave kisses cross his jaw and down his neck, basking in the
groans and snarls leaving his perfect lips. His other hand meets it’s partner
on my other hip, holding me still as his own hips rut up against mine. I have
to pause, my face pressed into the crook of his neck, in an attempt to control
“Give me one fucking second to have
some kind of foreplay,” I snarl wanting to enjoy the moment a bit more before
jumping into it. This is my first time with an alpha and my mate, I want to
take my time.
But his hips rutting once again is
his response to that, “Too long. I need you now.” He rolls us back over,
managing to capture my hands and pin the above my head with one hand. His other
hand reaches for my bottoms and tears them away with ease, tossing them
somewhere on the floor. I can’t keep myself from watching as he slowly undoes
his belt and his pants. I know he is watching me, waiting for a reaction when
he pulls his manhood out; he is not disappointed. My jaw drops, I knew wolves
were supposed to be big but I wasn’t expecting this. He pumps himself a few
times chuckling, “What’s wrong Kitten, too much for you?”
I glare at his smug face, “We will
have to find out won’t we, now stop staring.”
“Are you ready?”
I gulp as wiggle my hands free and
pull his face closer, hiding my face in the crook of his neck, taking a moment
to breath in his delicious scent that not just turns me on but relaxes my
erratic heart. “I’m ready,” I mumble.
“Where did that confidence go?” He
muses softly, loosing his own cockiness.
“It’s come back, I just preparing myself,”
I peek down once again, he positions himself at my entrance. “Be gentle at
first at least, okay?”
His domineering wolfishness seems
to fade, he copies my actions, burring his face in the crook of my neck, “Of
course.” I take a few deep breaths before he plunges all the way into me in one
thrust. A whimper escapes my lips, he stretches me more than I have been
before. My claws dig into his back as I try to deal with the pain of such a
huge intruder. He wraps his arms around me, resting his weight on his elbows to
keep from crushing me. He does his best to comfort me but I don’t miss the way
his body trembles, how tense his body is or the growl vibrating in his chest.
He is struggling to control
himself. It’s obvious as he holds me closer, almost crushing me in his iron
clad embrace, “You can move.” I encourage, hoping it will just get better once
things start going.
“Are you sure?” He groans through
“Take the offer before have the
chance to take it back.”
That is all the encouragement he
needs to slowly pull and push back in at the same pace. It doesn’t hurt as much
as I thought it would, it’s more of a burning feeling now, it’s bearable. But
for him, his wolf seems to be over the moon. The beast growls with
satisfaction, making the pain worth it. After a few more stretching thrusts I
feel something deep inside of me tingle.
“There,” I mumble. “Again.” He
obeys and thrusts a bit harder this time, hitting the same place again, this
time head on. “Fuck! Right there!”
“As you wish,” He chuckles, his
grip on me tightens as his picks up the pace. I wrap my legs around his waist,
allowing him to reach deeper. Our moans fill the room, I encourage him to go
faster and faster, demanding him to go harder until the only thing I can scream
is his name. His wolf roars pounding into me like the animal he is. I’ve never
felt something like this, the knot growing in the pit of my stomach is more
intense than I’ve ever felt before. It doesn’t take very long for his thrusts
to become sporadic.
The moment his teeth dig into my
neck, marking me as his mate I come undone. After a few more thrust he fills me
with his cum, staining my walls white. I feel utterly spent, relaxing back
against the bed but the moment I shift I realize that his manhood is still hard
inside of me. He notices my sudden shift and chuckles.
“You thought we would be done after
one round?” He licks the bite mark on my neck. “We have a lot to catch up on, I
have been looking for you for a long time, I have many things I would like to
do to you before we rest.”
I watch her from the edge of the
bed, a small smile on my face. Her small frame is wrapped in the thick blanket,
her pure white hair splayed out on the pillow her head rests on. I glance at
the black wig on the floor then back to my sleeping mate, her cat ears sticking
out on top of her head, white with black tips. I make to mental note to ask her
about that, most shifters aren’t able to shift only parts of their bodies, I
wonder briefly if that is why she wears the wig. I already have a long list of
questions to asker her once she wakes up, starting with her surname. I was in
such a jealous rage last night that I didn’t even ask her the basic questions,
god I’m a shitty mate already.
The moment I picked up her scent
yesterday morning on my younger brother, Sehun, my wolf was enraged to find her
scent on another alpha. After almost tearing him apart he admitted he had went
to that club for a good time and thankfully didn’t get it with my little
kitten, though he did get a lap dance much to my displeasure. My wolf snarls
just at the thought. It’s a small noise but it’s enough to make her pop up,
confused and sleepy, it’s honestly adorable.
“Good morning,” I chuckle
awkwardly, not sure if it’s okay that I was watching her while she slept.
She runs her hand threw her hair
and yawns, “Good morning Mr. Wolf.”
I cock an eyebrow at her, “Mr.
“I’m assuming you’re older than me
but I’m not going to call you Oppa without being sure.”
“Trust me Kitten, I’m your oppa.”
She nods, “I figured, so how old
are you? Should I be calling you grandpa instead?”
“You are looking for trouble,” I
“Too high, how about something in
the middle, daddy?”
My cock twitches, “Kitten.”
She looks away innocently, “So
something else than, should we talk about how we are going to get in trouble.”
“I know that wolves aren’t too fond
of mixing with other shifters, your council of elders has something against the
rest of us. I’m assuming they won’t want a handsome wolf like yourself mingling
with a lowly tiger like me, mates or not.”
I hum, “They won’t be a problem.”
“They won’t be a problem,” I
“How do you know? Don’t tell me
your daddy is on it,” She teases.
It takes all of myself control to
not say, no, but your daddy is. Instead I say, “Nope, I am.”
Her jaw drops, “Wow,” I’m expecting
her to be proud of how strong I am but I’m an idiot for hoping for that much.
“You must be really old!”
I click my tongue at her, “You must
really be a kitten.”
She nods, “I’m only 23.”
“Just 23 years old.”
Oh god I feel like a pervert, “That
explains why it took me so long to find you.”
“Also I assume you don’t spend your
time in clubs like that.”
I nod, “You wound be right, I was
there on a mission.”
“A mission,” She muses, “to woo
I chuckle, “I guess yes. Though
wooing you wasn’t really a necessity,” I admit.
“So you were just going to snatch
me up whether I liked or not?”
I nod as I slowly make my way to
her, “The minute I caught your scent I knew I was going to take you home and
never let you go.”
“So what are the chances of me
making it out of this apartment today?”
I cup her cheeks in my hands and
bring her lips to mine, kissing them softly, “Absolutely none.”
I don’t know if this is a good one
shot or not. If you guys really like it I might make a part 2 if requested!
Please let me know how you feel about it!
Just as Hunk destroyed the last of the fighters in his lion, Keith saw Red stop flying. She just floated in space. He stopped everything to catch her and her paladin to bring them to safety.
Black nudged her nose under Red and Keith flew them back towards the Castle of Lions.
“Great job, Paladins,” Allura said over the com. “Zarkon’s forces are retreating.”
“Glad they did,” Pidge said. “I’m not sure we could’ve held out much longer being down a lion.”
“Yeah, Lance, what happened out there? You were doing so well,” Hunk asked. There was no reply.
“Maybe he took a hit and was knocked out?” Pidge asked, looking at Hunk through Green’s eyes.
“Who knows,” Keith said. “Let’s get back to the castle.”
That night, Keith sat in his room. His jacket was hung up and he was staring at his Marmora blade, wishing he could meet his mom.
He didn’t know what to think about her, was he mad that she abandon him? Yes, very much so. But what if it was because she had to in order to survive? Was he upset that she was never there? Oh yeah, because he had to survive 18 years without her. But why would he need her now? Was he glad she was never there? No, he wished he could’ve had a mother.
He jumped when there was a knock on his door.
The door opened and Pidge stood there, adjusting her glasses. “Do you know where Lance is? I’ve been looking for him all day.”
Keith furrowed his eyebrows and thought. “No I…I haven’t seen him since the battle.”
“Yeah…” she looked down, a bit guiltily. “I wonder if he’s in the infirmary.”
“I didn’t take him there, do you think Hunk or Shiro did?”
Pidge shook her head. “No, I asked them where he was first. They had no idea. I was hoping you did,” she looked down the hallway, almost sadly. “You don’t think he ran away, do you?”
Keith shook his head this time. “It’s Lance. He wouldn’t be able to leave without at least one of us knowing.”
“Are you sure?” Pidge asked, skeptically adjusting her glasses. “He is a goofball, but he’s not stupid. If he wanted to be gone, he’d make sure he did it silently.”
Keith didn’t reply and crossed his arms. Yeah, Lance hadn’t been seen around since the battle. He could’ve been resting in his room with an injury, or he could just be in his room asleep.
Then again, if Pidge was looking for him, she’d check his room first. And if he wasn’t there, she’d ask everyone else.
Looking at her, Keith took notice of the guilt on her face. Did she feel bad for not noticing he was gone? Now that Keith thought about it, it’d been so long and none of them even brought up the fact that Lance hadn’t shown up even for dinner.
“I’ll check the Red Lion bay,” Keith said.
“I’ll come with you. Let’s just check everywhere else first.”
Keith nodded and followed Pidge out. They started looking around the castle, the kitchen, the dining room, the control room, his room, even the blue lion bay.
There was only a sliver of hope that Lance would still be in Red.
The two got to the bay and saw that Red was laying down, rather than sitting up. Pidge scrambled after Keith as he climbed into Red’s control room. It was empty.
The sliver of hope was crushed.
“He’s gone,” he whispered as Pidge walked around the seat and calculating everything. Each crack, each button, each screen.
“There’s no way he could’ve been forced out of the lion,” Pidge said. “There’s no evidence of forceful entry or removal. It’s like he was never in the lion.”
He didn’t reply for a few minutes. “You go ahead Pidge, I’ll keep looking in here for something.” She nodded, giving him a look before leaving him in the red lion.
Keith stared at the controls. He didn’t plan on looking. He already knew that Lance was gone and that he wasn’t in the castle. He just needed a minute to himself to think clearly.
He sat in the seat and put his head in his hands. He didn’t know what to do, yes he was the leader, but Lance was his right hand man. His impulse control. If anything, Lance was the reason the team was still alive. Keith didn’t trust himself with the team, the only way he would was if Lance was there to talk him out of doing something stupid.
The red lion suddenly sprung to life. All the lights flicked on, the computer’s turned on and she moved into a sitting position, as if waiting for Keith to control her. But he didn’t make a move to touch the controls. He didn’t think she would respond anyway. And he was right, after a few seconds of staring curiously at the screens, Red mind linked with him, showing him exactly what happened.
He found Pidge at the kitchen, who looked up and opened her mouth but Keith beat her to it.
“I know what happened.”
They all gathered in the control room and faced Keith, who stood with his arms crossed. “He was forcibly removed from the lion by Haggar. I’m only assuming that much because everything Red showed me was Lance disappearing after a flash of purple light.”
“Altean magic,” Allura muttered. “Haggar was Altean.”
“Teleportation can be used with Altean magic?” Shiro asked.
“Who cares about that? Is there any way you can scan for his life force or something?” Keith asked desperately.
“Like a heat signature or maybe some lack-of-a-chemical-compound that aliens tend to have and we humans don’t?” Hunk asked, right after.
“Maybe you can scan for his neurological activity?” Pidge asked.
“We’re trying the best we can,” Allura assured. “Wherever he is, Zarkon most likely has him. And Zarkon’s ships all have technology that dampens our sensors.”
Keith chewed on his lip and looked away angrily. He frowned and crossed his arms, impatiently tapping his fingers on his arms. He could feel Shiro staring at him, but he refused to look up. For one, he was mad at himself for not even noticing that Lance was missing. He was also mad at the alteans and Shiro for being so calm about it, like they didn’t even care. Pidge and Hunk kept glancing at each other.
“I want to know why would Zarkon take Lance and not the red lion as well,” Allura suddenly said, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Why does it matter?” Keith snapped. “We have the red lion, but we lost her paladin.”
“If Lance was hurt, wouldn’t the red lion attack Zarkon’s ship to get to Lance, like it did Keith?” Pidge asked. “That must mean Lance isn’t hurt, right?”
Allura shook her head. “Keith and the red lion had a different bond. Keith treated her as a being on equal grounds, Lance treats her as a being more powerful than him.”
Suddenly, Keith’s heart sank. Lance had gone to him about his insecurities, how he felt he was the weakest link on the team and how someone else should take his place. Keith told him not to worry about who flies what, and after Black didn’t respond to Shiro, Lance had been acting differently, especially in Red.
He didn’t think he deserved Red.
Keith didn’t say anything to them. It was silent as Allura and Coran worked on finding him through the sensors.
“To interrogate him,” Shiro said suddenly, growing pale. “That’s why they took him and not the red lion…they wanted us to forget about him. To prove to Lance that we weren’t his friends and to get him to betray us.”
There was an eerie silence throughout the control room. For a moment it felt like everything had fallen apart.
A few days of the paladins obsessively hanging around them later, Allura told the three paladins to relax, that it would take a while to get the sensors to be able to break through the barrier Zarkon was using to block them out.
They knew those were orders, and though they didn’t like them, they sat on the couches in the lounge and solemnly looked at the floor.
“If I’m being totally honest,” Pidge sighed, getting Hunk and Keith to look up. “I kind of miss him bugging me. It was one of the only constants in my life and now even that’s gone. He and Hunk used to bug me to no end when I would work at the garrison…I guess I actually didn’t mind it now that I think about it.” She looked up at Hunk. “That’s not an invitation to touch my equipment.”
Hunk waved her off. “In the garrison, he would drag me off to go places without Iverson knowing. Sometimes he’d let me stop in the kitchen and get a late night snack.”
Pidge smiled a little. “And during that flight simulation, when I snapped at Iverson, he saved my neck and ended up getting yelled at instead.”
“Remember that time we passed the simulation?” Hunk laughed. “He celebrated for weeks until the next simulation. We failed that one and he said that we passed one so it was okay.”
Pidge’s smile fell. “I feel bad for not celebrating with him,” she replied. There was a few seconds of silence before she sighed. “After the exercise where we were allowed to look in each other’s brains, I noticed how big his family was and he was the youngest of his siblings,” she said. “Maybe…maybe he was so intent on succeeding because he wanted to be like his siblings.”
Keith frowned. That was a good point. It made him feel bad for being a natural pilot, but it wasn’t his fault his mom was an alien.
He grunted and stood up. “I’m going to the training deck.”
Weeks. It’d been weeks and they still hadn’t found Lance. Pidge, Hunk and Keith were getting desperate.
Hunk spent most of his time with the mice or in the kitchen, Pidge stopped showing up for meals and spent all her time in mechanical areas. Every once in awhile someone would bring food to her, which she’d pick at before going back to her projects. Keith spent his time on the training deck or in his room.
“Paladins, I need you in the control room immediately,” Allura said through the castle’s speaker system.
Keith looked up and sighed. “End training session.”
The gladiator froze and powered down as Keith put his bayard away.
In the control room, Coran and Allura stood, facing them. Shiro had obviously gotten there first, then Hunk and Pidge and Keith.
Coran pointed to the screen above them. “We managed to track his heat signature somehow,” he said. Through the corner of his eye, he saw Pidge readjust her glasses, signifying that she altered the castle’s sensors. “He’s on Zarkon’s main ship.”
Without a second’s hesitation, all three paladins turned towards their bay doors.
“Hold it,” Allura said, stopping each of them. “Zarkon’s ship will sense the lions approaching and he will send every force he has to obtain them. We need a plan of action—”
“We don’t have time to strategize, Princess,” Keith snapped. “If you haven’t noticed, one of your paladins is missing. The galra could be doing who knows what to him to get answers from him!”
“Like I said before,” Pidge said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Lance may be a goofball, but he’s not stupid. You underestimate him.”
“As much as I love flying in on these super cool lions and blowing stuff up,” Hunk said. “Our buddy’s life is on the line. If we barge in there guns blazing, they’ll kill him.”
“Hunk’s got a point,” Shiro sighed, giving Keith a look. “Let’s come up with a plan.”
Keith crossed his arms and looked away. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long for someone to speak up.
After a few minutes of discussing, Pidge stood up. “I can modify a pod with the cloaking device I used on the pod Coran and Hunk used to get the crystal from the Balmera. Unfortunately, only one person will be able to go to leave a seat open for Lance and if I were to modify a pod bigger than that, it’ll take longer.”
“Excellent,” Allura said. “Now we have to decide who goes.”
“I’ll start on the pod right now,” Pidge said, disappearing through the doors.
“Go get into your paladin armor, we’ll decide who goes in.” Keith and Hunk nodded, disappearing the same way Pidge did. “So who’s going in?” Allura asked.
Shiro was staring at the ground, thinking. “Hunk is selfless to no end, he’d definitely to put Lance’s life above his own and attack full force if he had to, but we need someone who’s calm and stealthy—galra tech will also be a problem for him. Pidge is very good at stealth and is good at being calm despite the situation, technology won’t be an issue for her, but if Lance is hurt she won’t be able to carry him out and they’ll both end up captured. Keith, despite being driven by his feelings, he will listen to orders if it’s Lance’s life on the line. His instincts will also tell him when he needs to get it together. And he has Galra blood, so opening doors and all won’t be an issue,” he replied. “My only concern with Keith is if he finds Lance, in whatever state he’s in, we won’t know how he’ll react. It’s obvious he cares so much about Lance, just look at how he reacted when he realized he went missing. We don’t know what will happen.”
Allura stayed silent. “Then we’ve decided?”
Shiro frowned. “I guess so.”
“The cloaking device is easy,” Pidge said. “Press the button, you’re invisible to most sensors and cameras. Except you only have an hour of cloaking. I wish I had more time to give you a longer cloaking time but,” she shrugged. Keith nodded and she slapped his lower back, considering she couldn’t reach his shoulder. “Good luck.”
Hunk stared at him intensely. “Bring him back safely, okay?” When Keith nodded, smiled.
“If you lose your cool, he’s as good as dead,” Shiro said. Keith didn’t show much reaction, but Shiro guessed it hit him dead on. “You’ve got this.”
He glanced at Allura and Coran, who both nodded silently.
Keith climbed into the pod, hesitating. “You’re sure I’m the right person to do this?”
Shiro smiled confidently and nodded. “Like I said,” he replied. “You’ve got this.”
He nodded, pressing a button as the glass slid closed over top of him. The pod was activated and lifted off, he saw his team give him one last wave before he was off in the direction of Zarkon’s ship.
“Remember,” Allura said through the radio in his helmet. “Once you’re past Zarkon’s border, it will be increasingly hard for us to contact you, but you are able to contact us. The interference only works one way.”
“Got it,” he replied, tightening his grip on the controls. “Hey, Allura?”
“How will I know where he is?”
“I slapped a little tracking device on you,” Pidge said. He could almost imagine her smug little grin. “It’s a heat signature module that was coded to sense and alert you when you’re getting closer to Lance. In other words, it’ll beep over your com.”
“Pidge you little genius,” Hunk laughed.
Keith grinned a little. “I’ll get him back,” he said confidently, despite feeling terrified of messing everything up and getting him killed. For the next few minutes, the team kept their radio on so Keith could hear them. After about ten minutes, it started crackling. “I’m getting close, I’ll keep you updated.”
“Wait Keith—” Pidge’s voice was cut out by static. “—a map of—ship—”
“Pidge you’re cutting out.”
He supposed she was saying that there was a map of the routes he could take, but he didn’t plan on using it.
In the distance he could see the enormous ship coming into view. As he neared, the static over the radio was deafening so he ended up turning it off. He took a deep breath and waited, hand over the cloaking button. It was a gamble, pressing it so close to the ship, but he needed every minute of cloaking he could muster.
He saw the border approaching and he braced himself. He trusted Pidge’s work, but there was always a chance it wouldn’t work. He passed through and opened his eyes. The ship was enormous with fighters flying every which way. The ship was positioned right in the center of the border, the farthest distance from each side of the sphere.
Keith pushed forward on the controls, going right to the ship. As soon as he got close, a fighter ran into the pod and knocked him away. The fighter exploded, damaging the pod in the process. Alerts popped up on the screen, warning him that the cloaking module was damaged and he was now visible.
“Shit,” he grunted, trying the controls again. No use, he was visible again. He pressed the button on his helmet, bringing down the glass and opening the hatch.
He jumped out. Lucky for him, he was miniscule and unnoticeable next to the ship, so the fighters wouldn’t be concerned with him if the pod was still intact.
The fighter ships swarmed the pod and the pod exploded behind him, slamming him against the giant galra ship. At least I didn’t need to use my jetpack was the only positive thought he could think of in that situation.
Using his bayard, he cut his way into the ship, landing directly in a hallway surrounded by centuries.
“This never ends, does it?” he groaned to himself, spinning on his heel and slashing through one of the robots and twisting to stab through another. He made quick work of them, except one of them retreated and managed to get away. That meant he only had a few minutes before Zarkon was alerted.
a/n: i’d like to make a public announcement: frank castle owns my ass. also there’s blood and violence in this, but i mean it’s frank how can there be no blood or violence???? or maybe it’s just me and i’m a sociopath bc i love this shit i’m not sure yet.
Walking into your apartment at 4AM Frank tried to keep as quiet as possible. Much to his dismay the door squeaked as he opened it, he cringing at the sound. Frank soon went to catch the door and close it softly, but when he looked over at the bedroom to see if he woke you, you weren’t there. All of his senses were immediately on high alert, but he told himself not to panic, maybe you went to the bathroom. But when he saw the broken glass on the floor his blood began to boil. Frank was out the door in seconds, not caring if the sound of it smashing closed woke the entire building.
Warnings: angst, h/c, scars, fluff end, pregnancy,
mentions of the Dothraki way of treating women
Request: Hi! If you have time, could you do
a reader x Khal Drogo where he always flirts and eventually sleep together, but
then the reader discovers she is pregnant? So she tries to escape during the
night (because she thinks Khal Drogo will hate/abandon her and the baby), and
when he notices she’s missing, he panics and goes looking for her? Thank you
Request: If you have time, can you write a
Khal Drogo x reader where he accidentally bruises/hurts her when they’re making
out and he feels really guilty / angry with himself? Thanks :) (A/n: Had to
change it because I feel like Dothraki normally like it rough. Hope you’re okay
with her being pregnant to stir his guilt)
A/n: I’m trying to write more sexual
tension and figured Drogo would be ideal to practise. Feedback on how I’m doing
would be greatly appreciated. Anyway hope you enjoy it :)
an undeniable chemistry between you and the Khal. Something in the way he
looked at you with his bright and perceptive eyes made your whole interior
spark. By the gods you wanted that man.
never had shown any interest in taking on a mistress and you knew someone like
you had no illusion of ever becoming more than a good night of rough stress
release. And to be honest you were fine with that. You knew who you were and
you were content with it, no need pretending to be something you weren’t.
It came as
a sort of surprise to you when one day your wet dreams about the strong and
quiet leader changed. You had been tending to your horse, one of the only
material possessions you had, drying the beautiful mare off from long days
ride. Someone had come up to you, watching you closely. As a female in the Khal’s
khalasar you had early develop a sixth sense of man with dirty thoughts
watching. It was quite necessary around that drunk bunch of pigs.
of a hand wrapping your hips, there was a deep voice beside you. A voice you
had only heard from far away, but that did all sort of interesting things to
This is the beginning to a fic that someone requested a LONG time ago. I believe it was @mymilkshakeavenue . I apologize for the long wait, and that this is only the first part! I will be updating it again soon because I’m so excited for this fic and I will also make due on my promise that there will be an AU version of this fic as well.
Well, I’ve got some big things planned for this fic. And believe me when I tell you that you will get exactly what you’ve asked for.
Enjoy, loves xx
P.S. Let me know what you think, and if you want me to update this fic or another one of my fics today!
“Just a bit higher, Cassian. If you would.”
The Illyrian warrior groaned, eyes soaring to the heavens. “By the Cauldron, Feyre,” he moaned, “I think if I have to hold this damned sword any longer my arm’ll fall off.”
I tisked, raising an arched brow. “If only Rhys could hear how his beloved General Commander is bitching about having to hold a sword for a few minutes.” My eyes darted back and forth between Cassian and the canvas in front of me, setting down my brush in favor of a smaller one. One that would be able to more accurately portray the fine lines of the man before me.
Or perhaps ‘whimpering baby’ was a better fit.
“Besides,” I sighed, “If my memory serves me correctly, it was you who insisted I paint you in the first place.”
“Indeed I did,” Cassian conceded, “And if my memory serves me correctly, you’re the one who insists on only painting Rhys. Like he’s the only one who lives in this gods-damned house with any looks about him and the rest of us ought to just run about with bags over our heads. It’s simply not fair!”
The truth was that I had painted them. All of them. I had rows upon rows of paintings and drawings and sketches that I had been progressively working on. Admittedly, none were as flamboyant and grandiose as the portrait Cassian was insisting at the moment. No, they were all little moments that had stuck out to me, ones I had tucked into my memory and went to work on as soon as I had a moment to myself.
However Cassian, being the jealous little thing he is, demanded I stop painting Rhys, or the sky, or landscapes, and ‘paint something that was truly the epitome of the Cauldron’s craftsmanship’, as he had so humbly put it.
“You know what’s funny, Cas? I can’t seem to recall having heard anyone else’s complaints about not being painted. You’re the only one who goes around making ridiculous demands such as these.”
He grinned, causing a dimple on his left cheek to pop out. “Oh come now, Feyre,” he purred, “You can try all you’d like, but you’re not fooling me. I know you’ve enjoyed focusing on my half-naked form for the past three hours.”
I couldn’t help but to burst out laughing. “Oh yes,” I nodded in mock seriousness, “I’ve enjoyed it so much, actually, that it’s making me rethink the vows I made to Rhysand. Perhaps I had been a bit too hasty in pledging my love for him and binding my life to his.”
“Well, if that’s really a concern, Feyre darling, then perhaps we can discuss it in a more private setting.” I looked behind me to find Rhysand leaning against the doorframe. Dressed in a simple dark shirt that was pushed up to his elbows, his lips set in an easygoing smile, hair tousled—from flight, most likely—the perfect picture of a completely content High Lord.
“Although, if you are so curious as to find out what a night with Cassian is like, who am I to stop you? I must admit, though, that I believe you’ll find him to be lacking in areas I consider myself to be quite proficient.”
“As tempting as the offer is, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, Feyre,” Cassian laughed.
I set down my brush, cleaning my hands with a rag and said, “Oh? What a pity, as I was quite looking forward to it. But maybe you’re right, Cas. I don’t reckon Nesta would approve.”
“Despite what everyone may think in this house, my balls belong to me, all right? I’m a grown man who makes his own decisions.”
I only nodded. “Of course you are.”
Cassian held up a hand, stopping Rhys’ words short. “Ah. No need. I was just about to make my grand exit.” He hopped off the raised dais, winking as he strode past me. “We’ll continue this later, I suppose.”
With that he leaped into the air, leaving Rhys and I alone.
“How much of that were you here for?”
Rhys smiled. “Enough to know that my General Commander may be getting a bit out of shape if holding a sword up for three hours was taxing for him.”
“Well,” I said, setting down my rag and walking over to him, “I was just about to go grab something to eat. Having to deal with Cassian for three and a half hours left me famished.”
His eyes flashed, brilliantly violet as I stood before him. “What a coincidence. So am I.”
“How unfortunate for you that I am not on the menu.” He grinned, bending down to press his lips to mine in a way which told me exactly what his mouth would do should I change my mind.
His mouth tore away from mine only for his tongue to lick a bold stripe from the curve of my neck to the shell of my ear where he purred, “Pity,” before stepping back and offering me his hand.
It took me a moment to orientate my thoughts, as my body was now vehemently screaming to take his hand and go back with him to our room. Or better yet, have him undress me and make do on all the promises that mouth had made to me just a few moments earlier.
But even if I had made up my mind in either direction, Rhys and I were interrupted by the sound of wings.
We both looked up, finding a large figure skyrocketing towards us.
“Something’s wrong,” I said. Rhys needn’t voice his approval, for I could sense the worry and apprehension on him.
Moments later, Azriel landed on the open balcony, eyes holding a serious weight. “Mor and Cassian are already at the House of Wind, Amren should be on her way.” Rhysand just nodded, and the two of us shared a look before wings sprouted from our backs and the three of us launched into the sky.
My heart was thundering in my chest as I considered what could possibly be such a threat that even Azriel seemed concerned.
All had been progressively improving following the death of the King of Hybern. The Cauldron had been stashed away, the Courts were slowly but surely recovering from the Second Great War, and the Human and Faerie Realms were getting along…somewhat.
Directly following the King’s death, Rhysand and I had called a meeting between all of the rulers of Prythian, not wanting to hold off on discussions that were too important to not be had. It went on for days, with enough arguing between the High Lords to last any immortal a lifetime, but progress was made.
There would no longer be only High Lords. High Ladies would also be named, and although the specifics of what being a High Lady entailed was left up to each individual Court, we had eventually agreed on basics that all of the Courts would abide by when naming a High Lady.
Additionally was the matter of the High Fae versus the Lesser or Low-Born Faeries. That was a matter which took half a decade before all Fae were given equal opportunities and rights, and a half a century more before discriminatory acts were not nearly as widespread as they once were.
The Courts seemed to be getting along well enough, so much so that Rhysand and I found ourselves being invited over for dinner or a day out on the boat or some other fun activity by one of the other ruler’s of Prythian quite often.
So as Rhys, Azriel, and I rushed to the House of Wind, I came to the conclusion that perhaps the threat was not a domestic one.