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bingoboingobongo · 1 year

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cod characters alphabet: activities

Characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra, Valeria Garza

Warnings: none

Prompt: Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with their s/o?

A/N: hehe new year new event i’m excitedd. also yes gaz’s ice cream choice is mine too don’t hate.

simon “ghost” riley:

alright so simon likes to spend what little free time he has doing something quiet and relaxing

he just needs a break from all the chaos and noise of wartime and so he’s not a big fan of going out or partying when he has spare time

i feel like at the beginning of your relationship he might take you out to dinner or on a date or something like that just because he feels like your relationship isn’t that strong yet

but once he gets really comfortable with you he’s much happier to spend his time indoors

simon usually will spend his free time reading or sewing (his masks get very dirty/broken very quickly so he needs to have a lot spare okay im sorry)

sometimes he might go outside on a walk/hike away from people so he can just catch a break

honestly when he’s alone he’ll like get into his chair, start whatever activity he’s doing, and then not leave until he’s done

like he will spend the entirety of his free time just sort of decompressing

again at first he was hesitant to let you in because it was sort of like his own self-care routine but he’s found that it’s much easier to take care of himself when you’re there

sometimes he’ll let you curl up on his lap while you nap/read a book/scroll on your phone, and sometimes you guys will sit together on the couch under a blanket

it’s very much a comfortable silence and honestly simon really prefers days like that than when you guys go out

john “soap” mactavish:

okie so soap is all about having new and fun experiences whenever he has free time

so much of his life is spent in the military and he wants to have a lot of fun memories that aren’t work related he can reminisce about when he’s old (or just while he’s bored at work)

whenever he has free time he’ll be spending it with you, even if you’re in the military with him

honestly he just wants to make sure he spends as much time as he can with you, that way if something does go wrong he won’t regret leaving you alone

he’ll take you out on all sort of fun dates and adventures

he loves taking you around town to try out all sorts of restaurants and bars

that being said he’s not a very harsh food critic and he’s mostly just going to try new foods so get ready for a lot of “christ this is so good try it” and “we have to come back here next time”

that being said, if you’re not up to going out or if the weather isn’t right or something, he’s more than happy to spend the day inside with you

he’ll try to cook something with you (the results may be questionable) but it’s okay because you guys spend most of the time laughing anyways

he’s also down to cuddle on the couch and binge a new tv show with you if that’s more your style

he won’t say this out loud (but it’s very obvious) but his favorite genre of tv is reality tv

he gets soo invested in all of the drama and he definitely eats up all of the overly dramatic videography and editing

kyle “gaz” garrick:

hmm so during his free time gaz really likes to listen to/discover new music

he’s got a really broad taste of music and so one of his favorite things to do when he has free time is go around to bars/clubs and just listen to the local bands

of course whenever he can he’ll go to concerts of his favorite artists but with expenses and his busy schedule those are pretty few and far between

he loves to take you with him on these little musical adventures though

many of your nights have been spent at crowded pubs listening to a band play while you guys talk about something dumb that makes you guys laugh

either that or having way too philosophical conversations that would probably be more suited to a university philosophy lecture than a pub with sticky tables and cheap beer

but gaz has had some of the best conversations of his life with you at those pubs so he doesn’t mind it

that being said, if you’re at that point in your relationship gaz really likes taking you to visit his family

he really loves his family, especially his younger siblings, and so whenever he has the chance he goes to visit them and check up on them

and it’s so much more fun when you come along

he’ll take you and the kids out for some ice cream at the old shop he used to frequent when he was a boy

he always gets lime sherbet and rocky road on a waffle cone whenever he goes

and do not yell at him because he swears that it is a good combination because you get sweet and you get sour and it’s not like the flavors even mix together that much so it’s fine

john price:

okay so price is a little bit like ghost in that he likes to spend his free time with just cuddling and sort of relaxing

usually with a crossword and a cup of tea, especially in the mornings

but when he has a little more free time he does really like going to see the arts

i’m talking theatre, dance, museums, concerts (but he tends to lean towards classical or jazz/blues, he just doesn’t understand rap/hip hop i’m sorry)

he’ll always take you with him if you’re down to go as well

and yes during christmas season he always takes you to see the nutcracker

that being said price isn’t really a fan of very many musicals

he feels like it’s kinda hard to understand what they’re saying during the songs and then he just has no idea what’s going on

afterwards he’ll take you out to a nice restaurant so you guys can talk about everything you saw

but if there’s nothing good around he’ll take you back home and make you a home-cooked meal

i feel like price definitely has two homes, a small house (or maybe apartment) in the city and then a cabin somewhere in the woods

what can i say the housing market was a lot different when price was buying his cabin

usually he’ll take you to his cabin during the winter, and then his city place is used for the rest of the year

alejandro vargas:

alright alejandro is a little older than soap and gaz and so his days of partying and going out are past him

i mean don’t get me wrong he can still throw a mean party but his body just doesn’t bounce back the way it used to

so like ghost and price he tends to spend his free time with you in a more reserved way

i think alejandro is probably a really good cook and so that comes into play a lot during his free time

whenever he’s home he’ll practically refuse to let you cook or order anything and insists that he can make it for you

he likes to spend his weekends testing out new recipes or making new foods that you can make when he’s gone

because he always drags you along to the kitchen with him and has you learn how to cook it with him

honestly he’s a teacher/leader at heart and so it’s almost like therapeutic to be teaching you how to cook and stuff

i mean it’s combining like three things he loves: cooking, teaching, and you

once he’s done making the food he’ll cozy up with you on the couch and turn on a show you’ve already watched while you eat, that way he can talk to you and ask you for feedback

honestly he’s a romantic and it shows when he spends his free time with you

he also really loves giving himself (and you) a little spa day a few days after he comes back from duty, just to really decompress and forget about all the stress of work

rodolfo “rudy” parra:

okay so honestly rudy doesn’t really have one thing that he loves doing during his free time

actually wait no he does it’s either building legos or watching other people build legos

that being said, he can’t always do that or sometimes it just gets boring and so really his favorite thing is just spending time with you

wherever you take him, he’ll follow

whether that’s shopping, doing chores, watching a movie, getting dinner

as long as he can look at your face, you could be telling him to jump off a cliff and he’d die happy

what can i say he’s absolutely smitten for you and he’s so like eager it’s amazing

that being said if neither of you have any plans he’ll beg you to stay in bed with him the whole day and you guys will just cuddle while you scroll on your phones or talk about random things

he likes to watch a lot of youtube and he’ll always point out little things he thinks are cool/funny for you to look at

and if you don’t understand it he’ll explain it all to you and why it’s interesting/relevant

honestly though, he really just likes cuddling or sleeping with you during his free time

he’s usually pretty exhausted or beat up whenever he comes home and so spending the day with his head on your chest just sounds like heaven to him

valeria garza:

alright let’s be real being a drug lord is no easy feat and so valeria doesn’t get as much free time as she would like

but when she does get time for herself she’s probably gonna be spending it on you instead

honestly i really see valeria as the kind of person to really spoil you

i mean being el sin nombre brings in a lot of cash so she certainly has the resources to do it

i think if she’s coming home to you, she’ll have to take a minute to decompress for a bit

even though she likes to be the provider in the relationship, she likes it when you hold her for a bit just when she gets home so she can let all her problems melt away

she wants to leave el sin nombre and all the cartels and drugs behind whenever she’s with you

even if you’re involved with it with her, she’d much rather keep that stuff out of her home life

once she’s rejuvenated though she’ll insist on taking you out

usually it’s shopping, dinner, a movie, a party, etc.

okay i’m gonna get into some like psychological stuff but like, i feel like being a woman in a male dominated field (the military and drugs), she feels like there’s sort of like a subconscious need for her to be more masculine, and so she does this by providing for you financially through gifts and stuff like that

but also when it’s all over and the drugs and the shopping and all of it is gone, valeria also just really likes cuddling with you

she’s a big fan of late night pillow talk because it’s a chance for her to release some steam/be vulnerable which she really can’t do during her day-to-day

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jewsinfandoms · 3 days

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New Beginnings!

What is “Jews In Fandoms”? The past several months have not been welcoming for Jews, but we’re still here! Jews have long been part of fandom and this prompt list will celebrate our love and passion for our favorite things. Whether it’s fanfiction, fanart, headcanons, meta analysis, fan recipes - you name it, we’ll take it. The main requirement is that all entries must involve Judaism in a positive way.

How does it work? Every second Sunday we will announce a new prompt. You will have time until the next prompt to write, draw, cosplay, sing or contribute in any other way, as long as it is related to the prompt.

Post it on your Tumblr account, and don't forget to tag us @jewsinfandoms, so we will reblog it before announcing the next prompt in a showcase post.

Please remember to tag your creation with all the appropriate content warnings and triggers. These are trying times, and we want to keep everybody safe and informed.

Who can post to the AO3 collection? Everybody! You may add your entry for the JIF prompts, or older works that are Judaism related. The collection is moderated, so it might take us a while to approve your work. Here is the LINK.

NOTE: This space is Zionist-friendly. Israel is a huge part of Judaism and home to half of the world’s Jewish population. Your work doesn’t have to involve politics, but please be respectful of this integral connection.

No fandom-bashing and/or ship-bashing. Again, be respectful.

You do not have to be Jewish to participate, but you must be an ally to Jewish people.

The theme this week is related to Shavu'ot, also known as the Feast of Weeks. The holiday have a double meaning - the day the Torah was given to the Jews in Mount Sinai, and an agricultural holiday to mark the harvest in the land of Israel.

To honour the holiday, that this year will be celebrated on 11-13.06, the prompt is new beginnigs. What will Ellen ripley do after she retires? Where is Jon Snow now? Is Jesse Pinkman happy with his life? We accept all fandoms. So long as your fanwork meets our other requirements, follow your hearts’ desire!

Here are the entries that were published after we posted the masterlist for the previous prompt:

Wartime Communication by CaptainLordAuditor

Informed Consent for Psychotherapy, JLA Counselor's Association by Daughter_of_Stories

Communication by @asthmaticplushiedragon

#jews in fandoms #jumblr #judaism #fanfiction #fanart #writing prompt

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mamayan · 8 months

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Hi !! Congrats on 500 followers ! For the roulette r can I request shigaraki/fem reader for the prompt numbers 1,34,55,63 ? Thank you !

Bang! … No bullet was shot—

Tomura Shigaraki

“I’ll make you fucking sorry.” || Wartime || Fresh laundry || Enemies to lovers

tw: NSFW • Coercion • Dubcon • Rough Sex • Mild Humiliation • Unprotected Sex • Fem! Reader

wc: 1009

“Tell me why…” the scratch of untrimmed nails against dry brittle skin made your gums ache.

“A hero is standing in front of me alive,” hard set garnet eyes glowering beneath the fall of soft blue bangs. His figure was hunched, bad posture obvious as he continued to pick at the skin on his neck almost to the point you wondered if it was an obsessive compulsive disorder which plagued him.

“I’m not a hero… at least not anymore. I want to join you.” The silence from the League of Villain’s head was unnerving, unable to guess his emotion due to a severed hand covering most of his face.

“Does this place look like a fucking freak convention? I should dust you and be done with this, why should I have to deal—,” you stupidly interrupted his rambling, panicking that he might reject you.

“Please, the League is the only place I can go to get revenge, I’ll do anything—,” your words seemed to echo, the emphasis you’d placed on anything stopping him. Even the hand clawing a bloody mess into his neck paused.

His eyes sliced over to you again, analyzing you in a new light that set your frayed nerves on end.

You were cute. He couldn’t deny that. Your wide desperate eyes filled with determination had blood pooling into his cock, making him turn and shift so he faced you again.

You watched as he removed the hand from his face, back straightening a bit as he looked up and revealed his face. His cracked raw lips split further as he grinned, eyes crinkling as his features twisted into a nasty gleeful image.

“Anything?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, yanking you up by your hair savagely as you choke out a warbled cry. “Did you just bite me?,” he growls out angrily as he shoves you to the floor. Your swollen lips tremble in fear and anticipation as your watery eyes look up at his imposing figure. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—,” he’s gripping your jaw tight, shutting you up and merciful enough not to place his pinky down least he kill you,

“Sorry?” He mocks, eyes wide and frightening as he looms over your sorry figure. “I’ll make you fucking sorry—,” he hissed, though he wasn’t actually too upset. It was him who had continuously gagged you with his semi-hard cock, using your warm mouth to get himself wet and hard so he could fuck your cunt next. You’d bitten him by accident, hadn’t even broken skin. A sick part of him liked it too, the sharp pain which helped get him fully erect. It just filled him with satisfaction to see your scared visage, worried and attentive to every touch he lays on you.

“Strip already, you’re pissing me off.” He huffs petulantly like a young lord when you hesitate and tremble. “You want to join me? You want your revenge?” He’s goading you, smiling as you swallow thickly but obey nonetheless because you did want those things, and what was your pride anyway?

He liked it, watching the pretty ex-hero strip all on her own for him like a whore. He let you know it too.

“I always wondered if hero pussy would be different,” he spits on your slit, and laughs when he realizes you’re already fairly wet. “Female heroes always flaunt around in those fucking ridiculous spandex outfits, I remember you wore one of those too?” He’s not pushing in, just holding his leaking plush tip against the opening of your pussy as you shakily nod, confusion evident on your features as he nods with a sneer.

“Next time, bring your old costume. I want to fuck you in that too.” You don’t have time to contemplate his words more, because next time should’ve been a major red flag in your mind. Instead you whine as he bullies his way into you, no prep or opening up for your poor hole as he thrusts into your welcoming heat with a loud moan.

He finds purchase on your hips, pinkies raised though he’s not entirely mindful as he feels the squish of your flesh and the tight vice of your cunt clenching around him.

“Yeah,” he almost giggles, groaning and giving an experimental thrust which causes you to jerk and grunt with the force. “Your ex-hero pussy is pretty good~” he leers, keeping one hand on your hip and pawing at your tits with the other as he begins a brutal and mean pace. His pleasure is clearly the forefront of his priorities and it embarrasses you that you also begin feeling good, his cock curved a bit and nailing a sweet spot inside of you that has your toes curling as you choke and try to hide your noises with a hand over your mouth.

He rolls his eyes as he sees it, uncaring as he uses your sweet hole to jerk his cock to completion, losing himself as he messily rolls his hips into your sloppy pussy. “Don’t think I forgot about you biting my cock,” his words register too late before he drops his hand to your cunt, pinching your clit between two fingers and twisting the little nub painfully. You squeal to his delight, high pitched and girlish in your cry that it has his balls drawing tight as he laughs. “Fuck, did you like that?” He’s giddy, the way you clenched up and spasmed from the rough treatment embarrassing but erotic.

“Screw it,” his head falls forward, both hands on your waist, eight fingers digging crescents into your soft skin as he fucks you hard and fast, nearly collapsing when you break and your own orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, as he works his cock as deeply into you as possible before filling your womb with a spray of white hot cum.

He flattens you with his weight, sweaty skin sticky against your own as you catch your breath.

You realize this initiation might be more permanent than you’d previously considered.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

#500 Event #Tomura Shigaraki #MHA Shigaraki Tomura #Tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki smut #tomura shigaraki x reader smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha

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rowaelinscourt · 11 months

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Rowaelin Month: PROMPT LIST

HERE IT IS! The Rowaelin Month 2023 Prompt List! We are ecstatic to be back for a the full month of September once again!

We hope you all love these prompts as much a we do and we are so excited to see what everyone will create in honor of our beloved Fireheart and Buzzard!

We've included a handy calendar image for you all, but if for any reason the image isn't working or is hard to read, the full list will be written out below the cut.

START DATE: September 1st

Green filled boxes denote CANON SPECIFIC PROMPTS

1. Participation every day is not required. You can create a many or as few submissions for the listed prompts as you like!

2. Please remember to tag your creations with #rowaelinmonth so people following the tag can find them! And don't forget to mention @rowaelinscourt in your post do we can reblog it!

3. Please remember that all works MUST have appropriate tags and content warnings. NSFW content is required to be tagged clearly and hidden below a 'Read More cut. We want everyone to have a fun and safe time engaging with content!

4. All genres of work are welcome, but please note any major warnings at the top of the work so readers or viewers have some idea what to expect.

5. Canon Week is back (with 2 whole extra days!) to fill that canon shaped hole in our hearts! While we kindly request that Canon Week prompts remain specifically for canon scenarios, remember that any and all prompts are welcome to be interpreted as canon/a canon-inspired setting as well! With creativity and imagination, the possibilities are limitless!

6. Any kind of fanwork can be submitted for this event so long as it can be applied to the prompt! Fanfiction, fanart, headcanons, playlists or any thing else you can think of! There are no requirements and you can submit multiple works for the same prompt of your so wish.

Rowaelin Month Prompt List

September 1: Song Fic

September 2: Accidents Happen

September 3: Rowaelin as teens

September 4: "Friends don't do this"

September 5: A Bad Date

September 6: Forced Proximity

September 7: Vacation or Outdoor Adventure (ie a road trip, beach day, hiking ect)

September 8: Single Parents

September 9: Renaissance Fair

September 10: Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry

September 11: Getting Arrested/ A Trip to the Police Station

September 12: Meet Cute / Meet Ugly

September 13: Babies / Kids / Next Gen

September 14: An Argument/ Making up After an Argument

September 15: Meeting the Parents

September 16: Mob AU

September 17: Mating Ceremony

September 18: Aelin with hawk Rowan

September 19: Telling Their Children about Their Tattoos

September 20: Drunken Antics

September 21: Scars

September 22: Magic/Shifting Lessons with the Children

September 23: Domestic Fluff

September 24: How Rowan Knew "Fireheart"

September 25: Arranged Marriage

September 26: Taking care of the littles solo

September 27: Person A is touch starved but didn't know how to reach out to Person B

September 28: Wartime Sweethearts

September 29: Firsts (date/kiss/time/child/ect)

September 30: A Missing or Alternate Scene from Canon

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2023 #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #tog

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wastingstarlight · 1 year

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Prompt idea, that has been spooking in my head for a while: Soap having some mental issues and Ghost being his weight blanket, when he can't have his real one. Hope this doesn't sound too weird. Thx for listening

not weird at all; love this prompt!! thanks so much for sending it in 💜

rating: T length: ~700 words CWs: guns, wartime violence, suicide reference, nightmares, insomnia

///

The gangster’s snarled promise swirls in Soap’s ear.

These deaths are on you.

Bang, bang, bang, bang. Four shots. He’ll never forget those four shots.

Silence.

Soap squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them, there’s a pistol in his hand. An unknown force is directing his arm to raise the gun, point it at the civilians cowering in the corner. It’s his finger pulling the trigger.

Soap wants to scream, to kick, to fight, but he can’t; he just watches in horror as one by one they fall dead.

Bang, bang, bang.

Then he’s turning the gun to himself, the barrel cold against his temple.

Bang.

Two steaming mugs settle on the table next to him and break Soap’s daze. He blinks. The mug of tea currently clutched between his palms has long gone cold. How long has he been sitting here?

Ghost’s dark, familiar form sinks into the seat at Soap’s left. His balaclava is rolled up to his nose, exposing a heavy dusting of white-blond stubble. Ghost nudges one of the mugs towards Soap and takes the other for himself.

Soap makes a noise that’s halfway between a greeting and a thank you and pries his fingers off of his mug, reaching carefully for the new one.

“Wanna talk about it?” Ghost asks, voice gruff. They’re still new at this, new at…talking about things.

Soap shakes his head. “Not right now,” he murmurs. He doesn’t think he’s managed to string more than a couple of hours of sleep together since he returned from the mission six days ago. He’s running on fumes, nerves raw, and if he talks, he’ll break.

They drink in silence.

“Come to bed.”

Soap blinks. “Not really up for foolin’ around tonight, Lt. Rain check?”

Since Ghost’s balaclava is still pushed up, Soap gets the distinct pleasure of watching the blush spread down Ghost’s neck.

“To sleep, MacTavish,” Ghost growls. “I assume you do that.”

“Not lately,” Soap replies with a flicker of a bitter smile. But Ghost knew that, didn’t he? And this was his way of trying to help. After a heartbeat, Soap relents, damn him. “Maybe your bed is better than mine.”

“It is,” Ghost says without a hint of anything but sincerity. He’s on his feet, balaclava pulled back down, and Soap has no choice but to follow.

The sleeping together is another one of those things they’re new at. It had started a month after Las Almas with a couple of life-affirming handjobs traded at a safehouse and turned into…well, whatever this was. Stolen moments when no one was watching. Gasps of life in a world of death.

Not that Soap’s complaining. He’s had a crush on Ghost since the moment they’d fuckin’ met and he’s a greedy bastard; he’ll take whatever Ghost gives him.

And, tonight, Ghost really does want to just sleep.

The bed creaks as they settle into it. The scent of Ghost is overwhelming and it’s almost enough for Soap to forget. Ghost’s arm curls around Soap’s waist and Soap has to fight back a shudder.

But when Soap closes his eyes, he still sees the bloodless faces of the people he wasn’t quick enough to save.

“Could you—” Soap starts, then snaps his mouth shut. No, it’s stupid.

“Anything, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs, breath hot on the back of Soap’s neck, and in what world can Soap say no to that?

“Would you mind…like this…” Soap mumbles, shuffling them around in a pile of limbs until he’s on his back and Ghost is all but on top of him, face curled into Soap’s neck.

Soap takes a deep breath and all he can smell is the shampoo in Ghost’s hair, all he can feel is the pleasant resistance of Ghost’s bulk against his chest as he inhales. He feels small. He feels safe.

He could sob with how good it is. Instead, he exhales shakily and presses a kiss on Ghost’s temple. Ghost presses a kiss to his shoulder in return.

Finally, finally, Soap sleeps. And it isn’t easy and it isn’t peaceful, and the faces of those civilians never leave him, but the rhythm of Ghost’s breath—his heavy, solid presence—is enough to lull him back under every time.

#ghost x soap #soap x ghost #soapghost #ghostsoap #simon riley #john mactavish #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #cod #call of duty #my writing #mine #w: call of duty #w: drabble #w: ghostsoap

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jekkiefan · 9 months

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Grillstertember prompt "Wartime"

Title: In The Meantime

Rating: General

Word count: 970

Summary:

Gaster poked his head out of the tent. Once his sight adjusted, he saw Grillby. The reddish elemental was sitting next to a small campfire. He was hunched and fully focused on the steaming pot in front of him.

In which Grillby makes soup while they recover.

Ao3 Link Here

#grillstertember #grillster #gaster #grillby #undertale

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polizwrites · 3 months

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PoliZ's WIP Update - 6 March 2024

Still busy IRL and was out of town this weekend, which cut een more into my writing time/energy. I touched 3 fics (2 new works & 1 WIPs) for a total of 1136 words.

On Ao3, I posted:

Chapter Two of A Vision of Things To Come - WinterIron time travel shenanigans with wartime!Bucky.

On Tumblr I posted:

The Battle of New York - Steve POV ficlet of the title event.

I’m juggling 18 😬 active/semi-active WIPs with my current deadline being the Bucky Barnes Birthday Bash (March 10) and the Post July Break Bingo, which ends in April.

See below cut for what I’m working on/planning to work on - arranged more or less by bingos/challenges/etc. As always, feel free to send me prompts or plot bunnies as well as asks regarding any of these projects or any other WIPs I’ve got out there. Interaction really helps feed the Muse and keep me motivated!

Stony AUniverse Bingo [SAUB_R1] (ends 15 Feb)

Final count - twenty-one fills for five bingos - hoping this event comes back so I can carry over a couple of squares! Masterpost forthcoming….

Captain (America) Bottom Bingo - Round 2 [CABB] (ends 28 Feb 2024)

I signed up for a 3x3 card for this bingo and managed a blackout plus an adopted square - Masterpost forthcoming!

Bucky Barnes Birthday Bash - [BBE_B4] (fic due Mar 10)

Another fun quickie event from the folks over at @buckybarnesevents! Participants build a fanwork ‘cake’ by choosing the following ingredients - a base Universe, a Trope or Quote as the filling, another characters as the frosting and a color, kink and/or date idea as the topping.

I started up a Wartime Bucky/Steve fic - working to incorporate Forced Proximity/Only One Bed and Competency/ Strength/ Size Difference Kink This could also fill my SRB E5 - Oversensitivity/Enhanced Senses and JBB “It’s you. It’s always been you.” squares. It’s sitting at 184 words so far & am targeting Sat or Sunday to post.

Post July Break Bingo [JBB_23p] (Ends Apr 2024)

One fill on my 2x3 non-fandom-specific card - still working on potential crossovers.

* A1 - “It’s you. It’s always been you.” - See BBE_B4 above

* B2 - Character’s personality is split into two different beings – I’ve never played with Bucky & the Soldier being two different people, but this seems like the perfect opportunity! Will see what might be a good crossover on one of my open cards.

* C1 - Touch Starved – another good fit for a Bucky-centric fic. (Steve or Tony or Clint).

Steve Rogers Bingo - Round 3 [SRB_R3] (ends 15 Jun 2024)

Eleven fills and one WIP at the moment - need to ponder other possible crossovers with my non-fandom cards & BaBB.

* A1 - Steve can actually dance just fine - Matched this up with the Flash Fiction Friday prompt [#FFF238 Take My Hand] for Finding a Partner - where Steve & Natasha go dancing (potential pre-slash). It came in at 239 words and will post to Ao3 before the event is over.

* C5 - Exes to Lovers - Maybe pair up with BaBB Argument?

* E5 - Oversensitivity/Enhanced Senses - see BBE_B4 above.

Bucky Barnes Connect Four - Alt Jun-iverse [BBC4_R2] {Ends May 31 2024}

The good folks over at @buckybarnesevents have opened this event up early! You sign up for a single row card of four squares and the challenge is to see if you can combine any/all into a single Bucky-centric AU fanwork - although you can also create 2-4 separate fanworks if you want.

The combo of prompts on my first card [Reality Show, Omegaverse, Talent/Manager, Royalty] sparked an idea that I’m about 230 words + misc notes into already - Alpha!Bucky as a technical prince who gets talked into joining a reality show that is supposed to match him up with an omega… but there’s a twist! Planning to pick this back up in the next week or so.

Hawkeyes Bingo [HB_R2] {Ends TBD}

Just signed up for this fun Tumblr event - got a 3x3 card and and am looking forward to creating more Clint-centric content and trying my hand at a bit of Kate Bishop fic as well!

*A1 - Werewolf AU - wrote Shooting for the Moon - Werewolf!Bucky’s POV on the second half of A Hairy Situation. It came in at 811 words and will get posted to Ao3 sometime in the next couple weeks.

* A3 - Awkward Flirting – this might be a good entry into my first femslash fic with Kate/Yelena?

Build-A-Bucky Bingo [BaBB_R1] {Ends Oct 2024}

Another fun year-long event from the folks at @buckybarnesevents! Each month there’s a list of prompts and you choose (at least) one each month for your card!

* November: Crackfic - DONE

* December: Wingman - DONE

* January: Wingfic - DONE *January: Polyamory - DONE

* February - Fingering - DONE * February - Morning Sex - DONE

* March - The Marriage of Convenience prompt could slot nicely into the next chapter of Lady Natasha’s Consort and Lord Steve’s Companion, which is currently sitting at 301 words.

WinterIron Bingo Round 2 [WIB_R2]

Signups are open for Round Two of this super-fun bingo event!

Hoping I get something on my card I can squish into the latest chapter of My Love is Vengeance - as I’ve picked that back up and am 1109 words into Chapter Seven.

Warm and Fluffy Bingo [WFB] (no end date)

Four fills on my card, courtesy of @warmandfluffybingocards - need to try for another crossover or two!

————

On other creative fronts: I am working on Drusilla and Secchan ZenKaiger figures for commissions. I’ve finished all my Marvel Trumps Hate figures, but still need to create posts (and mail one set).

If you’re looking for one of a kind gifts for birthdays or other celebrations, check out Stuffed With Character over on Facebook for a full list of my designs (now over 150!). These soft stuffed figures are mostly Marvel and monsters, but I have some Star Wars, Star Trek, DC and Disney figures as well. Plus I love to take custom design requests for any fandom!

#writing stuff #wip wednesday #WIP Update #Shameless self promo

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jump-wings · 8 months

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For @almost-a-class-act prompts

October 1st - Prompt # 1

Character A tries to convince Character B that it's too early to put the Halloween decorations up OR that it's too early to get the house ready for winter.

Warnings: War time language

Daires of Wartime - Day 1

1 October

Someone had found the frequency of one of the Russian radio stations on the radio. Even though no one could understand a single word, we were listening to nothing but the songs that had been released there recently. The melodies of the songs, the voices of the singers, the way the words were spoken, managed to reach something inside our hearts. Even Toye once said something about Ivan knowing how to make music, with a spent cigarette dangling from his lips. Webster tried to write something about Russian critics, but he gave up when he realized that no one was listening to him.

The same radio station was playing now. One advantage of listening to songs in a language we don't understand is that we can put whatever we want and want to feel into their melodies. We were now starting to recognize some parts. One of my favorites was playing. A slow, romantic -I think- song. I like to think that this song is about two lovers who can't get together. And of course, there are gunshots coming from outside the barn we were sitting in. They are very distant, but in recent months they have become like background music in movies in our lives. The background music of our lives while the scenes are flowing. Ingrid is luckier than us. When he said "Play it, Sam!" she heard Time Goes By. We say "Play, Hans!" and hear the sounds of ceaseless artillery fire.

There's that shadow again. Outside the door, it extends with the light coming from the bare bulb, fading into the darkness and disappearing. I know very well whose shadow you are. Don't I always see him that way, from behind the shadows, through the fog? Who could really look directly at his face? Who did he let? Why does he surround himself with stories that are repeated over and over again, each time adding a new detail? I'd like to know you, Speirs. Lieutenant Speirs, I'd really like to know you. Ron, I want to get to know you.

He's talking to Dick outside. Only Dick walked in, followed by Lewis. But that's it. He did not come. I would like to see him one last time. Even if it's from afar. Quietly. I wonder if he ever thought about me? Is he aware that I exist? I wish I could hunt his October nights. Let him think of me in his bed every night, before falling asleep, just like I think of him. With an ache in his heart but at the same time, with a smile.

Lipton is next to me, reading a letter from his family. There's a funny part where his father and mother argue about decorations to hang. He made me read it too. His mother wants to hang Halloween's decorations already, his father says there is still time. Even though Halloween is foreign to me, I think I have learned more or less what it is. I guess this is what a house is like. A complete home. Maybe if I had a house, people at home would write me letters and what they wrote would be like Lipton's. Small family arguments, daily chores, gossip about neighbors and relatives. Vest would bring me stamped envelopes with pictures of flowers on them. My name would be written on it in my brother's bad handwriting. My mother would write how sorry she was that I was away and that she cried every day. My father would ask about my health. But nope. I don't have such a family, and since I don't have such a family, I have no excuse to buy stamps with pictures of flowers on them.

I put my head on Lipton's shoulder, it's too heavy for me to carry anymore. I will close my eyes and continue listening to his letter.

#War Is Helloween #band of brothers #band of brothers oc #fanfic #easy company #to find

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soclonely · 8 months

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OC-Tober Prompt List Day 3: Crunching Leaves

Link To OC-Tober prompts list

Summary: Tom and his granddaughter Eda spend an Autumn afternoon in the parks of Coruscant, enjoying the beautiful colors the season brings

Character Summary: Tom the owner of 79s clone bar, is a lifelong Coruscant citizen. He grew up in a middle class family and had a wife and 3 kids-two sons and a daughter- that live in different parts of the galaxy. But he has amazing relationships with each of them. When he was younger, Tom was a professional ice skater along with his wife. When he retired, he took the time to teach other aspiring skaters in a school run by him and Millie. A lot of kids from Upper Level families attended his classes, thus creating his connections throughout Coruscant on the influence level. Once his wife died, he lost his passion for skating and closed up the school. During a dark time in his life, the clone wars started and seeing those young clones one day just standing outside their barracks with nothing to do sparked something in Tom. He talked to his many friends, got together, and helped give clones their right to just cut loose and relax every now and then. They are people too afterall. He opened up 79s and sees evey one of those young men that walk through his door as a part of the family. Tom never judges anyone and would give you the shirt off your back if you needed it. You can usually find him behind the bar, cigar in hand, and ready to give you the advice you need or to just talk (because sometimes thats all you need is a conversation)

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Look at all of the cool colors, grandpa!” Eda laughs, twirling in the pile of fallen leaves. She turns to Tom and smiles, holding up a bronze colored leaf. “I think this one is my favorite-OH OR THIS ONE!” She immediately dives into the next pile, reaching for a vibrant yellow.

Tom chuckles. “I suppose you haven’t been to visit in the Autumn.” He looks around the busy park. “Its like all of Coruscant came out to enjoy the fall colors today.” He adds, grumbling to himself.

Eda runs over, taking Tom’s hand.”Oh grandpa! You are always so grumpy. Come on!” She pulls him along the pathway.”You said there was a covered walkway with more pretty leaves up ahead! I want to see them all!”

“Alright I’m coming, I’m coming!” Tom huffs, allowing the little girl to lead him through the sea of people. “Be careful Eda.” He adds as she narrowly misses bumping into a group of troopers. Tom gives them a quick nod as they laugh at the little girls determination. “Watch for others, especially the boys in white.” He reminds her sternly.

“There are so many of them.” Eda stops, looking up at the nearby tree.”I’ve never seen so many!”

“Well kiddo, it's wartime and Coruscant is the Capitol.” Tom explains, bending down next to his granddaughter. “Its only naturally it would be full of troopers.”

Eda rolls her eyes. “Not the troopers grandpa! The leaves! Colors!” she points to the quiet grove of trees in front of them. “We see big groups of troopers back home all of the time! Especially when they were evacuating the nearby planets. But we don’t have these.” She grins, bending down to pick up a small red leaf at her feet. “This one.. This one is my favorite!”

Tom sits silent as he watches Eda squeal and run through more of the warm colored leaves, the brisk breeze of war hitting him a little harder today.

#bartender tom #79s clone bar #star wars ocs #my ocs #star wars the clone wars #oc tober #MaxRebo'sBandStand

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zarvasace · 1 year

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More Than You Can Chew

(febuwhump day 12, I like this one!)

Summary: At the end of the Roaring Twenties, Warriors has to come clean about his vampirism so they can track down who kidnapped Wind.

Prompt: "Can you hear me?" Warriors POV, Wind-centric. Historical setting, vampires, blood and gore. 4k words, rating this Mature for gratuitous violence near the end. This is very dumb and so much fun. Set in 1931 America. CWs for the gore and WWI trauma. :) AO3 link!

---

Warriors pulled his hat off as he ducked through the bar's front door. Conversation and laughter nearly drowned out the record playing near the wall, some popular singer he didn't know. A haze hung low in the air from all the pipes and cigars. Warriors just held his breath.

A few people called out at him, and he gave them his best smile and a wave before heading into the back rooms. If his heart was in the habit of beating, it would be in the running for a race.

He felt the tension as soon as he entered the club room in the back. The others looked up when he arrived.

"Anything?" Time asked, standing at the head of the repurposed, paper-strewn pool table with his hands behind his back. He'd loosened his tie, and he didn't seem to notice the coffee stain on his white sleeve.

"Yes," Warriors responded before he could back out.

Hyrule perked up from where he sat in the corner with Wild, both of them fussing over a table laden with Bunsen burners and beakers. A concerning stream of colored vapor rose into the air from one of their experiments. Their experiments looked like magic, sometimes.

"What did you find?" Hyrule said.

Warriors shrugged his jacket off and hung it up beside the door, trying to collect his buzzing thoughts and delay the inevitable. He pulled out one of the mismatched chairs and sank down into it, rubbing at his mouth. He should've had something to drink before coming, perhaps that would've calmed his nerves.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Sky asked quietly, noticing the hesitation. Next to him, Twilight pressed his lips together, looking up from the map of the city. Four took a break from writing and sat back to wipe at the inkstains on his fingers, waiting for Warriors to begin. Legend similarly looked up from his knitting—he'd never quite gotten over the childhood wartime habit.

"It's not good, no," Warriors responded. He had everyone's attention, now. No backing out, he reminded himself. His words seemed to leave him, and the only thing that came out was—"Wind is older than me."

Legend stared at him. "Hyrule, check him over, I think he hit his head."

"No, I'm being serious." Warriors shook his head at himself. "I'm sorry. That was an awful way to begin."

"Do you know where Wind is?" Twilight asked impatiently. "Yes or no?"

"I have important context for his disappearance. It'll lead us to him, eventually. Or, just me, I don't… if you…"

"Warriors. Spit it out," Time interrupted. Steel glinted in his eye, a far cry from the scared young adult Warriors remembered meeting in France.

Under that gaze, Warriors found himself sitting straighter, despite the memories. The others knew he'd fought in the Great War, same as Time had, though they didn't know the extent of it. Warriors appeared too young to have been a soldier, at least one who hadn't lied about his age. He knew Sky had, in order to get in at the end.

"Yes, sir. This is going to sound a little bit crazy, everyone, but you need to bear with me. Time, you may not remember, but in your very first unit as a soldier, I was in command." Warriors watched the confusion float over Time's face, echoed in a few others around the table. "When that slew of reorganization came through, you transferred out, and Wind transferred in."

"What?" Sky asked slowly. "Wind wasn't even born then, Wars."

"I know what it sounds like, Sky. Look, I knew he had to be too young to have been honest on the enlistment form, but there he was, and we needed people, so I didn't push it. I just made sure to watch for him, and got a bit attached, I admit. He was always a reckless kid." He got a few snorts from that. Four looked thoughtful, though most of the others still frowned like they thought Warriors was insane.

He continued. "We were in the trenches. Our unit was scattered, I was terrified they'd throw in some gas, and all I could focus on was finding Wind." Warriors smelled dust as he remembered. Dust and blood. "I found him, alive apparently, covered in blood. I managed to tackle him before he got hit with shrapnel from a shell. I got hit with it instead, felt the bits lodge in my lungs. I was definitely going to die. He screamed at me for saving his life, but what was I supposed to do?"

"Wars," Time said in warning. The lamps tossed darker shadows over his face than usual.

Warriors shook his head and tried to get to the point. "To make a short story even shorter, he asked me if I wanted him to save my life. Instead of dying that night, as I perhaps should have, I stopped aging."

"What are you saying?" Wild asked. He'd wandered over to listen to the story.

"Wind and I are vampires, and I think his recent disappearance has to do with that."

The sudden silence in the room pressed in on Warriors's eardrums. He felt like the static in his head would become visible any second now. He had no idea how they'd react, though based on past evidence, he was mildly confident it wouldn't be with metaphorical pitchforks. Or literal ones. Honestly, he'd be somewhat impressed if they found literal pitchforks out here in the city.

"Hm… that changes a few things about our theories." Four broke the silence, picking up a red pencil and standing on his chair to reach over the table. He drew a few confident lines, dividing the city map into pieces.

Wild tapped one of the lines. "Move this over to Emerald Street, that treaty was signed last week."

"Oh, was it?" Four erased that border and redrew it where Wild indicated. "I didn't think the Eldins would capitulate."

"They didn't," Twilight said, "until the Farons increased the offer, something like two hundred thousand total."

"Hm, that's more than I expected."

Warriors let out an entirely mortifying squeak. "How the hell do you three know so much about recent vampire politics? Four, those are the clan territories!"

"Obviously. You don't get very far in the supernatural side of the city without working around them." Four finished his edits to the map and stood back.

"Okay." Time held up his hands and took a visible breath. "I think we need to reevaluate. If you are aware of the supernatural in this city, and were before this conversation, raise your hand."

Warriors did so, of course. Four, Wild, Twilight were unsurprising after the recent conversation. Time, Sky, and Hyrule followed.

Legend burst out laughing and dropped a knitting needle to raise his own hand. "I was wondering when this would happen! We've all been hiding each other from each other, and it's been hilarious."

"You knew?" Twilight asked, dropping his hand. "And you never said anything?"

"I tried," Legend responded. He picked his knitting back up. "But you all brushed me off. I gave up. I asked Wind what was in his flask once. He told me it was vodka."

"It usually is vodka," Warriors said. His brain began to work again.

Wild tilted his head. "Not blood?"

"No, that's disgusting, stored like that, and barely does anything for you."

"Oh. Storing it works for me."

Warriors narrowed his eyes in utter bafflement.

"Half," Wild said by way of explanation. He shrugged. "My father's side. Hateno clan."

"Huh." Warriors crossed his arms. "Well, to get us back to the point—I recently learned that hunter activity has been increasing subtly the last few months, and I know where a few of their lairs are."

Sky looked startled. "You think hunters have him?"

"That's an unfortunate conclusion," Time said, leaning over the table to stare at the new version of the map, "but I don't think you're wrong. Mark where those lairs are, if you would, Warriors."

With a nod, Warriors stood and got to work. As they talked and adjusted their ideas, their true natures came out bit by bit. Hyrule and Time were partly fae, with Four and Legend different sorts of almost-fae as well. Sky had strong air elemental ancestry, and ties to that community. Wild was, as he'd said, half-vampire, and Twilight was his cousin on the human side.

It was relieving to hear Wild make a pun about blood-sucking and the laughter that followed. Even in his wildest dreams, Warriors had never imagined such an outcome. The best he'd hoped for was a ready acceptance and curiosity, but that had felt out of reach. Although he was worried for Wind, Warriors's hope in a successful rescue grew.

They made a plan to find and save Wind.

---

It took two more days, but through a combination of investigation and good, old-fashioned breaking and entering, the eight of them figured out where Wind would be. The restaurant was a good place to hold secret vampire hunter meetings, Warriors thought. At several floors tall, it had many hiding spots, and the clatter of patrons and the kitchen would hide most sounds of a struggle. Nobody would blink twice at people visiting often, either, unlike a brothel or a bank.

Time, Twilight, and Wild had entered earlier, getting a table and smuggling in a tiny, winged Hyrule in Time's jacket, and Four inside Twilight's shadow. Legend sat outside watching the exits and keeping an eye out. He said he knew a guy for a getaway vehicle, so they let him work that part out. Sky and Warriors snuck in through the maintenance entrance, gaining surprisingly easy access. They wandered the halls with aprons and brooms, looking like they knew where they were going.

"This feels too easy," Sky muttered. "We're in a hunter's den and we just waltzed right in."

Warriors winced and took the next turn, following the faint smell of blood. "Don't remind me. I keep worrying that some light will go off somewhere and an alarm will sound and all the doors will lock and someone will start screaming about vampires."

"We're all here with you. You have nothing to worry about."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but there is rather a lot to worry about at the moment. Have you seen anyone yet?" Warriors paused as a woman in a long coat passed, stalking more than walking down the hall. He caught a glimpse of silvery weapons under that coat, but she didn't glance at them as she swept past.

Once she left, Sky answered. "No. Not yet. Of course, I'm not exactly practiced at looking for fairies and shadows, so I could have missed them."

Warriors stumbled just a little when the scent he followed changed abruptly. He regained his balance and picked up the pace. "He's this way."

"How do you know?" Sky hurried to catch up. "You can smell him?"

"Yes. I've been following a faint trail of blood, but this is unmistakably Wind. I'd know his scent anywhere." Warriors walked slower past the next few doors, and his patience was rewarded with a dim hallway hidden behind one of them. It was silent back here.

Sky closed the door behind them. "You said he saved your life. He turned you into a vampire?"

"Yes. It was painful."

"I'm sorry." Sky got the hint and dropped the subject.

"Ugh, everything back here reeks," Warriors complained, "The trail is muddied too much to follow."

"The hallway isn't so long, we can listen at each door and open them if we have to."

Warriors took the right side, and Sky took the left, pausing at every door. Though Sky said to listen, the oppressive silence amplified the sounds of their clothing and Sky's breathing until that was all Warriors could hear. Sky could hear very well, so he listened, while Warriors relied more on his nose, even with all the ambient scent throwing him off.

Near the end of the hallway, Sky sucked in a breath. "Wars. This one."

They put their brooms down. Warriors was the one to try the door handle. Upon finding it locked, he attempted to break the wood with his elbow, but only succeeded in taking off a few splinters. It must have been reinforced. He stepped back, frustrated.

"Allow me," an unexpected voice said, and Four appeared practically out of nowhere to pull out his lockpicks and crouch in front of the doorknob.

Sky startled. "Four! Where did you come from? My heart nearly stopped."

"Mine nearly started," Warriors added, mustering a joke but not quite a smile to go along with it.

Four shook his head in amusement and started wiggling his pins inside the lock. "Hyrule and I have been following you for a while. Hyrule's outside that door back there, holding up a spell to keep people away from here."

"That's handy," Sky said.

"Mhm." Four lost interest in conversation as he worked. It took a few tense minutes, but soon enough, the lock clicked open, and he smiled. "There."

Warriors put a hand over Four's before he could open the door. "Hold on. I don't know what shape he's in right now, and I know he wouldn't want to hurt anyone. Go tell Hyrule to let one person in, someone we don't mind killing."

Four glanced at him sharply, then seemed to understand. He nodded, and his form under Warriors's fingers melted away into shadows.

"You stay here," Warriors told Sky, "for the same reason. I doubt they fed him, and having you so close might hurt more than it helps. Whoever Hyrule lets back here, subdue them and toss them in."

Sky looked troubled. "You think we need to kill someone?"

"Like I said, I doubt they fed him. He's a vampire. He needs blood. Depending on how much they hurt him, he could need an entire adult to come back to himself." Warriors tried to impress the severity of the situation to Sky through his gaze, and Sky backed down.

"I… suppose there are worse places to find a victim than a vampire hunter's den."

Warriors nodded, then took a breath and slipped into the room.

The single small window had been blocked first with paint, and then with several boards nailed onto it from the other side, letting in no light. Besides the blood-streaked floral wallpaper and bare floorboards, the room was devoid of any decoration. A chain hung from a closed hook bolted into the ceiling, trailing down to wind on the floor like a coiled snake. The chain ended in a pair of small manacles, locked around thin wrists.

Warriors hurried to Wind's side, kneeling down and gathering him up in his arms. He had a split lip and discolored throat, and his blue shirt had been torn down the side. His skin was cold in Warriors's hands, which told him right away that Wind had to be starving. No real heartbeat, no breath, no signs of life except for the very slight fluttering of his eyelids.

"Wind? Can you hear me?" Warriors asked quietly. "Don't fall asleep for twenty years again, like you said you did that one time. Come on, kid."

Wind made a soft noise in his throat and stirred. He opened one eye. "Wars? Mm… not a kid."

"Yeah, I know, you're a very powerful vampire, born sixteen-ninety-whatever, grew up in the Golden Age of Piracy, I get it. You remember that, right?"

"Mhm. 'Course. Tired."

Warriors lifted him up a bit as he heard a scuffle outside. "How about hungry?"

"Not thinkin' about that."

The door opened, and Sky appeared. He hauled an older man into the room by the arms, straining a bit to drag the weight. Warriors wasn't very hungry, but the scent of the man's bleeding head wound hit him hard, especially against the stale smell permeating this room in particular.

Wind groaned and turned to hide his face in Warriors's shirt. "Go 'way, Sky."

Sky hesitated, but Warriors impatiently gestured him and the body in. "He just doesn't want to hurt you."

"That's not a reason to come closer!" Sky said, though he continued to pull the man toward Wind.

The nearer he got, the tighter Wind held onto Warriors, who winced at the trust. It wasn't that he planned on breaking it, of course not, it was just odd to play this side of it. Wind had held him back from indulging his baser instincts more than once, when he was figuring things out. The bloodlust was hard to fight, and Warriors knew how strong Wind had to be to keep his head and not attack Sky right there. Warriors kept a hand on Wind's head.

"Where do you want him?" Sky panted, once he'd successfully dragged the man within five feet.

"Drop him there and go."

Sky hesitated, but he dropped the man's arms. "Do you need anything else?"

"We're fine." Warriors hugged Wind a little closer and gave Sky his best smile. It felt like a wince. "We've done this before."

"Right. We'll make sure the way out is clear." Sky left, just a little hesitant.

Once the door shut again, Warriors relaxed his hold on Wind. "There we go. Take as much as you want."

Wind had moved beyond the point of understanding words. As soon as Warriors let him go, he pounced, chain rattling as he attacked the man.

Warriors sat back and let him at it. Wind had never been a very clean eater, for as long as Warriors had known him, but he always went out of his way to try to not hurt whoever he took blood from. He'd passed on a few of his techniques to Warriors, who'd adopted a similar strategy.

Right now, Wind was too far gone to bother with any of that. If the man hadn't been dead before, he definitely was now, with his throat half-ripped out and the rest of him quickly exsanguinated.

After several minutes, Wind slowed, and soon stopprf. He hung his head over the bloody corpse for a few long seconds, then pushed himself to his feet and turned to face Warriors.

In the dim light, with half his face and front soaked with fresh blood, his bruises healing with the excess running through his veins, Wind looked every inch the two-hundred-year-old vampire he was. He looked down at the red-slick manacles around his wrists.

"Four picked the lock to get in here, he can probably pick that one, too," Warriors offered. He stood, too.

Wind lifted his hands to look at the metal. "He doesn't need to." Two sharp pops rang out through the room, and the manacles dropped to the ground. Wind adjusted his broken thumbs back into place with his teeth and allowed them to heal.

Warriors rolled his eyes. "That's unnecessary. You were just starving."

"Well, now I'm not starving or chained up." Wind offered a bright smile, and something in Warriors's stomach loosened. This was probably barely a blip on Wind's meter of inconveniences. "Did you say Four?"

"Yes." Warriors opened the door, and Sky stood up straight.

"Wars! Everything all right?" Sky peeked past Warriors to see Wind, who still stood there in all his bloody glory.

Wind froze, then hesitantly, futilely tried to wipe his chin off with a hand just as red as his face. "Um…"

"It's okay," Warriors told him, looking both ways down the hallway before exiting the room. "I told them all."

"You told them all?" Wind hissed, shoving past Warriors.

Sky offered Wind a single handkerchief, one clearly soaked by blood before and imperfectly cleaned. It would never be white again. It would also never hold quite as much blood as it would neeed, to clean Wind off. It was a nice gesture anyway.

"He did," Sky said as Wind narrowed his eyes. "As it turns out, all of us thought we were hiding the supernatural from everyone else."

"You're kidding." Wind hesitated, but took the handkerchief and wiped his mouth off. It only mostly worked.

"Not at all," Warriors confirmed. "Come on, we need to get out."

Wind crossed his arms as they started back toward the main hallway. "I don't want to just get out, Wars, I wanna burn this place to the ground."

"No. There are civilians here, Wind, it's a restaurant. Someone would notice."

"I've gotten away with arson before," Wind grumbled.

Warriors shook his head. "Not today."

"There is a fight going on, though." Sky put his hand on the doorknob. "It sounds like Time and Twilight are doing somewhat poorly out there. I don't know where Wild and Hyrule are, but I think Four is avoiding the fight to keep watching."

"How do you know?" Wind asked. "Wait, I can ask later. Don't die so I can ask. First, if there's a fight against these hunters, I'm going to get my revenge. Sweet, cold revenge."

Sky glanced at Warriors with mild concern.

"That last bit of blood in someone's veins is the strongest," Warriors said by way of explanation. "There are advantages to killing. He'll be riding high on that wave until he burns it out. It's not a bad idea to let him run wild for a bit."

With a shrug and an expression of 'So help me, Wars, I hope you know what you're doing,' Sky opened the door onto a shambles of a fistfight.

As Sky had thought, Twilight and Time struggled against the vampire hunters and thugs that had gathered in the area. There were more than Warriors had anticipated—more than ten, less than twenty. It wouldn't be an issue with all nine of them, but with only three or four… Twilight held his arm stiffly, and Time was backed into a corner. Four had joined the fight, but some of the hunters' tools were clearly bothering him. Wild was visible down the hall, running toward them with a black frying pan in his hand and a full-sized Hyrule right behind him.

Wind kicked the door open the rest of the way, banging it against the wall and drawing everyone's attention. He grinned, bloody fangs on full display.

"Did you know," Wind said, stepping out into the hallway, "that most vampires were killed off in the fifties? The seventeen-fifties, mind you. Hunters like you did their damndest, but could never kill me." The fight had stalled, everyone hypnotized, possibly literally. Warriors had never received a straight answer about that particular rumored ability.

"I'm one of the only old ones left. You know what that means, don't you?" Wind paused as if waiting for an answer, but none came. "You've bitten off more than you can chew, hunters."

The spell broke, and Wind launched himself wholeheartedly into the melee. He laughed as he dug his fingers into sternums and ripped apart ribcages. He tore his teeth into flesh and cracked open skulls like eggs.

With a full, hopped-up Wind on their side, unafraid to let loose, the tide of the scuffle quickly turned. Despite the carnage, Wind always managed to identify friend from foe. He kept well away from hurting Twilight or Wild or any of the others. Sky and Warriors didn't even bother joining the fight after seeing how it was going.

Once every enemy had been felled, Wind stood up and threw aside a handful of entrails. They landed on the wall with a wet splat and slid down to the baseboard, leaving a streak of blood. "That's it?"

"That should be it, for now," Time said, unfazed. "We should go before someone calls the police. Are you all right, Wind? You seem a little… manic."

Wind sucked a bit of blood off of his hand. If Warriors had thought he was bloody before, that was nothing compared to now. It was caked in his hair, and he'd probably start complaining about it once it began to dry. Sky's handkerchief wouldn't even make a dent. "I'm fine. That took care of all the extra energy. I could go for a nap."

"Come on. Legend should have a ride ready," Sky said, ushering Hyrule and Wild over the mess of body parts. He wrinkled his nose. "We can get everyone baths and a change of clothes."

"That sounds nice." Wind grabbed Warriors's sleeve and hung on as they headed toward the exit. "You hungry? You could go grab one of those for the road."

"I don't need your leftovers," Warriors said flatly. He smiled easily, though. Wind was always looking out for him. And he'd always look out for Wind.

Wind scoffed. "Pfft. Picky baby."

---

Ending A/N: Hyrule had to go looking for a guy to kill, and he found some dude yelling at a waitress because she wasn't responding to his solicitations. He deserved to die.

Wind was born 1696 and turned into a vampire around 1710, during the golden age of piacy. He is eternally 14. Sorry, Wind. He mentions vampires dying in the 1750s, and unfortunately that included Tetra and her crew. He's a little bitter about that and will take any chance to get back at hunters for them.

I liked this AU! I might do more with it! :)

#febuwhump 23 #my writing #lu wind #lu warriors #vampires #linked universe #writing #fanfiction

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dramioneasks · 2 years

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hello, may i know whats your top tier/top notch werewolf!draco fics? thank you

Here are some of my faves:

Cold Side of the Moon by RZZMG - E, 11 Chapters - Released from Azkaban and tossed into the Forbidden Forest for Voldemort's entertainment, Hermione Granger must escape the predators and survive for eight days to earn her freedom. She doesn't expect to make it, especially knowing Draco Malfoy, half-breed werewolf, is somewhere in the forest, too, just waiting for the next victim of The Games to arrive.

Don't Look Back by Onyx_and_Elm - E, WIP - It’s the smell of it. Chemical. Bitter and sharp as a raw edge on metal. Just a hint of it as she passes him at breakfast — but enough to stop her dead, mid-step. There is Wolfsbane in his tea.

A Spoonful of Happiness by orphan_account - E, one-shot - Draco Malfoy is registered as an unmated werewolf and has twenty days to choose his mate. Hermione Granger is assigned to Draco by the Ministry to coordinate organic meetings with his potential mates and be prepared to support him should his behavior veer towards mania as an unmated werewolf. However, Draco has already chosen his mate; she just doesn’t know it yet. Posted for Farewell To Summer: The 31 Flavours of Smut

Finding Peace by goldhorse - MA, 4 chapters - Hermione and Draco have horrific experiences during the war that cause lifelong turmoil. Peace is impossible to to achieve. Or is it?

The Sacrifices We Make by LR_Earl - E, 28 Chapters - After Harry Potter falls in the final Battle, a desperate Order of the Phoenix needs Draco Malfoy's pack of werewolves to defeat Voldemort. Hermione plans to offer the reclusive Alpha the one thing he can't refuse: a child of his own. But sometimes we find ourselves in the sacrifices we make. 2018 Granger Enchanted Awards - Best H.B.I.C Hero!Hermione, Best Wartime!Hermione, and Best Smut Winner!

Perfectly Matched by ADHARYN - M, 20 Chapters - When Auror Draco Malfoy is mauled by a werewolf on a mission gone awry, his partner Harry entrusts his best friend to care for him: Healer Hermione Granger. But now his heightened senses won't allow him to escape the one witch from Potter's crew he'd always kept at a distance, and his new and volatile wolf has decided she's his perfect match.

Bond by HalfwayThrough - E, 29 Chapters - Years into the war, Hermione is trapped for an entire night between a broken wand and a Death Eater. She leaves tangled in a web of strange bonding magic and lycanthrope that blurs reality and makes her second guess everything.

LUPINE by LilithShade - E, one-shot - Draco was not an Alpha, not really. To truly take the mantle of Alpha one needed a pack and he was alone, utterly alone. Yet he had killed Fenrir, ripped his sire’s heart clean from his chest with his own clawed hand during the Battle of Hogwarts. That violent act had imparted on him an ancient magic. Pack magic. Alpha magic. He had first caught her potent scent that very night, it was a pure beacon amongst the oppressive metallic tang of blood and decay. He had known in that moment what it meant, that she was his. His mate. Written for HP Kinkfest 2020 - Dramione Breeding Prompt by TheLastLynxNominated for the 2021 Granger Enchanted Awards: Creative Gem Award - When Life Gives You Lemons Award - Perfect Picture Award

Addicted to You by Kittenshift17 - M, WIP - An act of kismet whilst herb gathering sees Hermione interacting with an unknown werewolf. When he bites her while she is in her animagus form, he sets into motion a twisted destiny that binds them together as mates. With Remus and Sirius there to help her through, Hermione's biggest worry is finding out the identity of the werewolf who marked her.

Instinctive by goldhorse - NC-17, 3 Chapters - Voldemort has discovered a new punishment for his victims. Will it make or break them?

Chains by Aneiria - E, 2 Chapters - 'Draco,’ Hermione crooned, making her voice sound as soothing as possible. She reached up to wrap her hands in his soft blond hair, tugging firmly to try and force him to look down at her. His hands were holding her tight around her waist, almost meeting around her middle, but he looked over her head to where the official was now lying sprawled on his back. ‘Look at me, Draco,’ she tried again, tugging his hair harder. Finally he tore his eyes away and looked down at her, still breathing heavily. Hermione gasped when she saw the usual silver of his irises had brightened to an ethereal blue, his pupils narrowed into elongated slits.‘Oh, Draco…’ she breathed, concern building in her as she reached up to stroke his cheek. Draco purred and rubbed his face against her palm. ‘We need to get you home.’

With Teeth by dulce_de_leche_go - M, 5 Chapters - Halloween Creature Fic. Werewolf!Draco, EWE, mostly PWP. Infected during the war by Fenrir Greyback, Draco survived one struggle to find another. His return to Hogwarts and so-called “normal” life was a cute attempt to move on but, as always, one insufferable woman turns that on its head as well. Short story, dark setting, controversial themes. Draco 1st Person POV

Shiver by HeartOfAspen - T, one-shot - Hermione heads to the library to reference some books for a Potions project, only to find that somebody else has already claimed them all…

The Hunger by eilonwy - E, 10 Chapters - Written for the Dramione Couples Remix fest on LJ. My chosen couple were Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf. This story is a dark-ish, contemporary retelling of the original fairy tale with some twists. It’s actually a bit of a hybrid. See if you can guess which other fairy tale contributes elements to the story as well.

And this great comic:

How to date a Werewolf by gubabuba - E, 9 Chapters - If you could only see the beast you've made of me I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to Howl, howl Howl, howl - Florence + the Machine -

If you’re really into this trope, I’d suggest checking out our Draco: werewolf tag or going through werewolf!Draco fics on AO3 because, as you can see, there aren’t that many of them.

- AgnMag

#anonymous #draco: werewolf #favourite fics

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almost-a-class-act · 1 year

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Happy Pacific appreciation week!

Prompt: Day 3 ( February 8th ): Underrated characters Author's note: Could it be, me posting a fic on the day of the prompt before midnight? We're all surprised! I wrote about Lena, because she is criminally underrated in my opinion. Anyway, as with the first two this will probably end up on AO3 after I have some time to go over it again. You can find me there under roaroftheninth.

Lena will live for much longer in John’s aftermath than she ever did with him. It’s the kind of thing that will lay you straight out, if you let it – if you think about it too much. Not prone to fits of emotion, or to falling apart, she nevertheless knows better than to issue herself that particular challenge.

She tries not to think about it too much.

When their first wedding anniversary comes, he’s been gone for five months already, an interminable amount of time that is somehow, unbelievably, only a fraction of a lifetime – five months down, and so, so many more to go. Lucy goes with her into town – have a drink, take your mind off it – but by the time they get there, she can’t face getting off the train and looking strangers in the face. They disembark at the next stop instead, cross to the other platform, and get the train home.

By Christmas, John’s been dead for almost a year (longer than they’d known each other – she tries not to think about that too much, either, because the passage of time feels like missing a stair in the dark, a terrifying drop into the rest of her life). She has dinner with his family, his brothers trying to keep it from being a subdued affair, his parents completely unable to try. John’s sweet, grey-haired father, somehow smaller even than the last time she saw him, withered by grief, comes to sit with her and holds her hand. She bites down so hard on the part of herself that wants to weep that her whole body aches.

On the first anniversary of his death, she gets up earlier than usual and makes French toast. It doesn’t taste right, like everything sweet about it is gone. She doesn’t finish it. Lucy doesn’t say anything about it, but she gives it a week and then says, off-handedly, I’ve got a cousin who’s single. Nice guy, works in marketing or something. You want me to set you up? Lena is very polite but very firm. She does not want to be set up.

When summer comes again, she is one of the few marines left from wartime service. The familiar faces have dwindled in the past eight or ten months. Most of them see her wedding ring and assume she’s got a fella somewhere. It suits her fine. She still does not want to be set up.

It’s been almost three years since the last time she saw John when she spots the back of a dark head in a crowd. The lilt of his walk, the precise, tiny conceit in that stride, stops her in her tracks. She would know it anywhere. A hundred lifetimes from now, she would know it. John. She calls out, a hand flying up, because if she loses him in the crowd, what then? The rawness in her voice makes a handful of people turn around, but not him.

He turns and ambles into a hardware store, unaware. In profile, he is so obviously not John that her knees buckle.

John has been lost to her for five years when her smallest and most precocious niece asks her when she’s going to get married again. It is not a difficult question to answer – I’m not. She had never had a strong desire to get married, or not one that superseded everything else, anyway. Women who got married became wives, and there is nothing wrong with being someone’s wife, but she has never wanted to be only someone’s wife. She likes being a marine; she likes her neatly-kept apartment with its park view and no one to tell her not to leave her books open with cracked spines on the arm of the chair, or her empty coffee cups on the table. She has always liked doing things on her own time. She had even begun to assume that she was not the marrying kind at all before she met John, who had immediately made himself a notable exception to all of her rules.

And then she hadn’t been allowed to keep him. Now she was back to who she had always been – not the marrying kind. She knows better than to expect another John.

It is ten years since John when she looks around and realizes that she has friends to whom she has never mentioned that she is a widow. She barely thinks of herself as one. A widow is a descriptor given to delineate you in relation to someone else, and she has been on her own for a very long time.

I’m a widow, she thinks, frozen in place at the grocery store, in the middle of the soup aisle. Why does the word feel so strange?

The following year, when John’s father dies, she attends the funeral, and John’s family treats her like she belongs, like they always have. When she gets home, it’s the first time she cries since she stopped crying over John. It is like something has fallen away inside of her, created a pit of gravity that pulls down and down and down, and she doesn’t go to work the next day. It’s the one time she calls in sick in her entire career.

It is twenty-three years that John’s been gone when she retires from the marine corps. There is a flurry of interest, people turning their heads when they remember that she’s Lena Riggi Basilone. It doesn’t feel intrusive to let other people have a piece of John, the way it once did. He had never especially liked being a war hero, but she thinks he would have liked being remembered.

She’s been on her own for thirty-five years when she absently takes her wedding ring off one day, trying to find some relief from the way her hands are swollen from the summer heat wave. The way her heart lurches when she rubs that spot with her thumb only to find it bare feels like a dim echo of the day they told her about John, an incomparable loss – an insurmountable panic. She turns the house upside down, scratching her arm on the edge of the bookshelf, until at last, disheveled and bleeding, she finds the ring sitting next to the bed, precisely where she left it.

It's been forty-two years since John when her great-niece asks her about the wedding photo on her mantle and she feels herself brighten. Oh, that’s John. Isn’t he handsome? She tells every story she knows until her cheeks hurt from smiling. The ache is gone, burned away, and only the rest remains, transcendent.

She is more than five decades on from the last time she saw John and she still walks on the beach most days, mainly to get out of the house, although she likes the way the air smells, too, likes the sound of the gulls, and the waves against the pier. It is a bright, windy day, and she is not alone on the sand, though she lets her gaze flow off of other people like the water that scurries in, frothy white, and slinks away across the sand again. She is not here for them. She has reached the end and turned back to return the way she came when ahead of her, she spots the back of a dark head.

It has been a very long time, and yet – and yet.

The lilt of his walk, the precise, tiny conceit in that stride, stops her in her tracks. She would know it anywhere. A hundred lifetimes from now, she would know it. John. She calls out, a hand flying up, because if she loses him in the crowd, what then?

This time, he turns around.

#tpweek2023 #hbowardaily #the pacific #fanfiction #roaroftheninth

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animereaderinsertwriter · 2 years

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Previous - Chapter 3 - Next - Series Masterlist - Series Playlist

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: fantasy au, violence, smut, angst, fluff, non-major character death, pregnancy, dub con/fuck or die but only kinda?, enemies to lovers, there's an arranged betrothal somewhere in there that eventually goes away, spoilers for dabi's identity

ao3 link here

“The Empire’s most notoriously cruel act during wartime was the order to hunt and kill every goddess-blessed that could be found. Often, these hunts would end with an evening of celebration during which the hunters ‘purged’ their victims by burning them at the stake. Of course, this practice was outlawed during the peace negotiations between the Clans and the Empire, but it never truly died out, and it was still used as a punishment for goddess-blessed up until the land had forgotten the touch of the Empire entirely.”

—Balthazar the Wise, On the Age of Unrest

Dabi wished the earth would open up and swallow him.

The last few days had been harrowing. Despite the obvious advantage of pressing forward and remaining mobile (and therefore unpredictable), Shigaraki had given the order to stay put for a while, and it was driving Dabi spare. The men were jittery, anxious, itching for action, and while Dabi could empathize with their bloodlust, he would settle for having a place to sleep where an infernal woman wasn’t watching him the entire time.

It had been several days since the incident, and he and (Y/N) had barely spoken a word to one another. The few times they did speak, it was either an explosive argument prompted by one of his trips out to “gather supplies” from a nearby village— he'd usually come back with blood on his hands, and she'd scarcely give him a chance to wash the grime from his skin before she lashed him with that barbed tongue of here— or something horrifically soft and kind that made Dabi long for sharp tongues and rough curses.

There was, however, one heated quarrel that he would rather die than return to; one that happened just after a supply raid on a nearby village that Dabi had come back injured from in more ways than one.

“You hyena,” (Y/N) had hissed from where she was bound, glaring up at him with righteous fury. “You pathetic scavenger, you murderous bastard, I can’t believe you!”

Dabi hadn’t quite understood what all the fuss was about at the time, but he knew insults when he heard them, so he’d responded in kind.

“Oh, so you’re finished with the silent treatment, you little viper?”

Her scowl would have curdled milk. “I had nothing to say to you, but when you come into the camp covered in the blood of innocent people— ”

Dabi groaned. “Are we really going to do this here?”

They were, and they did. An hour later, (Y/N) was crying and Dabi was sulking, and the only thing they agreed on was that it was impossible to live with each other. They ripped open old wounds in that argument that Dabi had thought were long-healed, and worst of all, they'd broken the unspoken rule of the camp.

They talked about the war.

Well, “talk” was a gentle term— (Y/N) had screamed about the war, had spat on him about the war, had raged and cried and thrown a massive strop about the war; Dabi had matched her fervor with coldness, and by the end, they were blaming each other for single-handedly ruining any chance at Clan victory. Even though neither of them had really meant what they'd said, it had wounded Dabi, and he felt at once contrite and embittered. He’d left the camp for the rest of the day, riding until he was sick of riding and then moving through the stances of his weapons training with practiced ease. By the time he returned, he was exhausted and (Y/N) was taciturn, and it was right back to where they had begun…

Which was no-fucking-where.

It had been many days since then, and Dabi was tired of being miserable. Thankfully, Shigaraki sent word the morning of the fifteenth day that they would be moving once more in the vague direction of the Summit, and Dabi was more than happy to have something to do with himself.

"Oi," said Dabi, prodding (Y/N)'s sleeping form with his foot. "Get up, pussy-cat. We've got the order to move our arses."

"You have an order to move your arse," she replied, snuggling deeper into what he had begun to think of as her furs. "I'm expressly forbidden from moving from this tent."

Dabi groaned. Why was nothing ever easy?

"You can either get up, or I'm coming back with a bucket of pond water," he threatened half-heartedly, and (Y/N) flipped him a finger in response.

"You are so insufferable," he huffed, yanking the furs out from underneath her. "Get up, you lazy wretch—"

That did the trick. (Y/N) woke fully and snatched the furs right back, somehow managing to yank hard enough to actually succeed despite her bound hands. Her nostrils were flared, her eyes were wide, and Dabi was certain she would have given him an earful about what a jackass he was if light from outside hadn't been thrown across the tent by an unannounced guest. Before Dabi turned, he saw (Y/N)'s expression soften into something like curiosity, and when he saw who was standing at the entrance, he couldn't keep the smile from his face no matter how hard he tried.

"Toga," he greeted his visitor, turning his back to (Y/N). "What brings you here, you little tramp?"

Toga beamed.

"Shiggy sent me over with mission details, but then I heard you made a friend," she said, peering over Dabi's shoulder. "A woman friend."

And just like that, Dabi's good mood was ruined.

"She's a prisoner," Dabi grunted, moving to cover (Y/N) more fully from sight.

Toga hummed thoughtfully, tapping her cheek with a tiny finger.

"So, a whore?"

Dabi sighed. "No, Toga. She's a prisoner of war."

"So she's not a whore at all?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"No. She's a prisoner."

Toga thought for a moment, then pursed her lips.

"But not the sex kind."

Dabi nodded, relieved. "Exactly."

"I believe I can speak for myself, Dabi."

Behind him, (Y/N) stood with her arms crossed, her hair a squirrel's nest of tangles and sleepy cowlicks, and yet, somehow, she was almost queen-like in her dignity. Dabi didn't know whether he wanted to kiss her or throw her in a pond.

"Oh, but she's beautiful," breathed Toga, her eyes sparkling as they met (Y/N)'s. "Surely you've at least put some effort towards fucking her?"

Dabi felt himself flush scarlet.

"She's not interested." Dabi cut his eyes to (Y/N) with a strange jealousy in his chest. "Just leave it, Toga."

Toga folded her arms, pouting with disapproval.

"I'll bet you haven't even asked her, so how would you know if she's interested or not? You didn't even let her introduce herself."

"Toga, please—"

"Is it because you're insecure? Cause I've told you again and again, you're a perfectly handsome guy. So you've got an odd little patch-work thing going, but it's a look! And it's not like it extends to your c— "

"That's enough, Toga!"

At that, Toga turned to (Y/N) with a sweet, mischievous smile.

"He's just a little shy," she said, coming over to stand in front of the bound priestess with sparkles in her honey-gold eyes. "The fact that he's been hiding you away from everyone means he wants you— he's stingy with his things like that— so don't take it personally. Just give him time."

"If he comes close enough, I'll rip out his throat with my teeth," (Y/N) replied matter-of-factly, "And should that fail, I'll pray to the goddess for teeth to grow elsewhere."

Dabi choked on his own laughter.

"Oh, Dabi," Toga sighed with all the wonder of a child who'd been given a new pet, "I love her already!"

"Don't get attached, kid," he warned her, fixing (Y/N) with a look. "She's the enemy here."

"I'm not anyone's enemy," (Y/N) replied curtly, poorly hiding her anger with indifference. "I serve the goddess, and I do what's best for my people."

At that, Dabi's expression darkened, and his black heart filled with hate.

"How can you even say that?" he hissed, his hands balling into fists. "You sided with those who call our goddess a daemon, an evil spirit— worse yet, others of them claim she doesn't even exist! How can you possibly justify that?"

"I didn't side with anyone, they won the war," (Y/N) shot back, her blood beginning to heat. "I serve my people by being their influence in the new order; because I have the love and loyalty of the people, the rulers give me the power to make requests and preserve our culture, our way of life, which is more than you can say with your sword-swinging, your pillaging, your raping— "

"—I've never raped anybody!—"

"— And your heartless murdering!"

(Y/N) was fuming now, ready to launch into the rest of her tirade— but then Toga looked directly at her with wide, unassuming eyes.

"Are you… are you goddess-blessed?" she asked, her voice oddly timid. "Like us?"

Goddess-blessed was the colloquial term for those who had been born with supernatural abilities. If one asked the priests of the Holy Church, they would call the goddess-blessed freaks, abominations… curses.

"She's more than that," said Dabi lowly. "She's the High Priestess."

Toga's eyes lit up in surprise.

"Is it true?" she asked, stepping closer. "Is it true, what it was said that they did to you?"

(Y/N) looked away, and Dabi's heart wrenched painfully. He’d heard the rumors and he’d seen the scars, but to hear it confirmed would be—

"Yes," she replied simply, and Dabi cursed.

"And yet you still lick their boots," he growled. "Unbelievable."

"Oh unclench already," (Y/N) snapped. "It's not like you haven't threatened me with the same and worse since the day we met!"

"I threatened you because you're my enemy and a pain in the arse, not because you were born!"

"For the last time, I'm not your enemy!"

Dabi rolled his eyes.

"Goddess divine, will you shut up with that already?"

"Silencing the truth doesn't mean that you've won the argument, you fool," (Y/N) replied venomously, but then Toga slipped closer and tapped her on the shoulder, and all the malice leeched from (Y/N)'s features, her face softening sweetly into an expression Dabi would kill— well, certainly at least maim— to have directed at him.

"I'm sorry that happened," said Toga softly. "But you're with us now. None of those bad people can ever hurt you again. Dabi would never allow it."

Something tender, something fragile hung in the air between the three of them then, and (Y/N) looked at Dabi with eyes so deep and so ancient, so piercing and beautiful that they took his breath away. His mouth went dry and his palms began to sweat, but then (Y/N) turned her gaze to Toga, and the moment was broken.

"I know," she said with a small smile. "He's already proved himself to me."

"Oh," said Toga with a grin, and before she could embarrass him further, Dabi decided to get well away from the hen party.

"Be ready to ride in fifteen," he called over his shoulder, opening the flap of the tent. "Toga, don't trust her; she's pretty, but she's like those little white flowers I told you not to pick."

There was a certain variety of stinging nettle that grew the most beautiful white flowers; years ago, back when Dabi and Toga had first become acquaintances, they had encountered a whole field of them. Dabi had cried out in warning, but it was too late— Toga had grabbed a fistful in her tiny hand. Oh, she had cried forever about how badly she'd been stung by the "fire plant" as she had named it, but she had learned a lesson that day.

Dabi hoped she'd take his warning for what it was. The damage (Y/N) could do was much, much worse than a little nettle if touched by the wrong hands.

***

As soon as Dabi took his leave, (Y/N) turned to the newcomer with a hunger in her heart.

“What news from the world?” asked (Y/N), discarding all effort to keep the desperation out of her voice. "Where are we going, and why?"

"Dabi doesn't think I should trust you," replied the petite blonde, wary, "But you're the Hand. It doesn't make any sense."

(Y/N) shook her head, desperate. "Well, your Dabi isn't always right about everything, and what can a little news hurt? I've been tied up here for a week— have some pity."

Toga shrugged, but her smile was sweet and shy.

"Things are as they always have been, my lady. We ride for Illan now. Shiggy wants it razed for some reason or other— I wasn't quite listening to the why or how, but the important thing is that it's destroyed completely."

All the blood drained from (Y/N)'s face.

There was a temple in Illan— a very special temple, full of goddess-blessed young girls who would stand no chance against an invading force like the League. The priestesses of Illan were all of some sort of affliction, or suffering in some way from their powers; many of them struggled to see, talk, and walk normally in exchange for their abilities. There would be no means of escape for them, and their Blessings— while powerful beyond measure— would be of little use against Dabi's men.

(Y/N) had to warn them.

"Toga, are you goddess-blessed?"

Toga nodded once more, her cheeks rosy with the heat of another sweet smile.

"Sure am— why?"

"What is it that you can do?"

At that, Toga wilted the tiniest bit.

"I'm not sure how you would like it," she admitted, "but I love it."

She explained in detail the way her abilities worked, and (Y/N) was fascinated; if she had the time, she would have talked for hours about what it was like to take the form of another, but time was of the essence, especially if she wanted to get ahead of Dabi's movements.

"Toga, I have something to ask of you," said (Y/N) quietly, placing her hand on the young girl's shoulder. "There are young women in Illan who are exactly like you. Nowhere else in the world would accept them as they are, and they are completely defenseless. Dabi and his men will kill them— you know they will— if I don't get there first and warn them."

Toga frowned. She gave (Y/N) a distrustful look, but she was far from unconvinced; the girl was no fool, and likely knew exactly what Dabi's men would do

"Please," (Y/N) nearly whispered, squeezing the shoulder beneath her hand. "I swear to you I'll return. I'll be Dabi's prisoner as long as I have to, but I can't let him slaughter my sisters."

"But how can I know I can trust you?" asked Toga, and a plan began to form in (Y/N)'s mind.

"Come with me," (Y/N) grinned. "That way you can bring me back yourself!"

At that, Toga began to smile.

"Deal."

As it turned out, they hadn't even needed to sneak out of the camp. Together, they strolled right out, with (Y/N) bound and Toga escorting her. Never once were they questioned, and other than a few friendly waves to Toga from the men, no one even seemed to notice them. It made (Y/N) wonder what sort of sway little Toga had in a camp full of marauders that they could roam so unaccosted.

"Wait here," said Toga once they were out of sight of the camp. "I'll bring some horses, and we'll ride for Illan together."

When Toga returned, it was with two fine horses and a mischievous grin, and the two of them mounted simultaneously.

"Do you know the way?" asked Toga as they settled into the saddles, and (Y/N) nodded.

"I've been there many times— I'm going to cut across the moor instead of keeping to the main road, though, so stay close!"

With that, they were off at an even canter, and (Y/N) prayed that they would have enough of a head start to set up a Boundary around the temple before the League caught up. Galloping wouldn't do them much good as the horses would tire too easily to reach Illan, but somehow anything other than breakneck pace felt too slow.

"They'll be alright," Toga assured her, as though the girl had known (Y/N)'s very thoughts. "The goddess protects her own."

It's a bit different when you're the offered protection, (Y/N) wanted to reply, but kept her mouth shut and her eyes on the unseen path ahead.

Soon— but not soon enough for (Y/N)'s liking— the temple came into view. It was a little ways off from Illan (an oddity, as most temples were built to be the center of the town, even in smaller, rural places like Illan), but (Y/N) rushed to it anyway. She jumped from her horse, ran to the doors, and threw them wide open— but instead of finding a temple hall full of busy novices and their stern supervisors, she found layers of dust and cobwebs.

The temple had been abandoned.

"Well, so much for saving people." Toga came up to (Y/N)'s side, peering up at her with narrowed eyes. "Is this where you kill me to make your escape?"

(Y/N) turned to her, horrified.

"Of course not," she said, wondering what this girl— so young and seemingly innocent— had experienced to make her so wary. "What we do now is draw boundary runes."

Toga cocked her head to the side. "Why?"

"Because one of us is going to go warn the people of Illan so that their women and children can shelter here."

"But… why?"

The genuine confusion on Toga's face broke (Y/N)'s heart.

"To spare them," said (Y/N), reaching down to the earth to begin drawing runes from the Old Tongue. "I don't care who they are or what they've done, no one deserves to be slaughtered the way Dabi intends. If I thought the men would forsake their pride, I would have them take shelter as well, but…"

If there was one thing war had taught (Y/N), it was that the pride of man would always be his downfall.

Toga hummed, thoughtful.

"So I just wait here until—"

She never got to finish her sentence. Out of nowhere, an arrow zipped from somewhere among the bushes and into (Y/N)'s shoulder, passing clean through her flesh from the back to the front.

"Run!" (Y/N) cried to Toga, gritting her teeth through the pain. "I'm right behind you!"

Toga did as she was told, scampering off towards the horses, but another arrow caught (Y/N) only inches from where the first was lodged.

"You won't be going anywhere, witch!" said a voice from the bushes. "These arrows are tipped with purest silver!"

If (Y/N) would have had the energy, she would have rolled her eyes.

"I'm the High Priestess of Cerridwen!" she called out despite her agony. "I've come to warn the people of Illan of an ambush by the League!"

The bushes rustled, and three men appeared. Two were middle-aged, and one was but a lad; they all looked at (Y/N) as though she were the scrum of the earth, and for one awful moment, she almost wished she was back in Dabi's camp.

"Right, and I'm a prince," said one of the older men, grabbing her by the arm. "Even if you were that heathen whore, the same fate's for the both of you. I seen those devil-runes— I heard your plans to take our women!"

"You fool," (Y/N) hissed as his grip twisted the shaft of the arrows in her shoulder. The pain was so bad her vision went nearly black, but she powered through it, unwilling to surrender to it before convincing one of them to see reason. "I tell you now that the League means to raze your town— if you don't evacuate the women and children, they'll be killed!"

"Lying bitch," said one of the others, spitting on her as his counterpart tied her hands. "That's just a pathetic ploy to keep yourself from the stake!"

In her lessons as a novice, (Y/N) had been taught to respect all forms of the goddess— for though one may find Cerridwen as the Great Mother, another may find her by a different name— but if there was one god she could not tolerate, it was the god of the New Religion, the foreign god of mercy, love, and burning pyres and hangman's nooses. Somehow, (Y/N) felt that her lessons had failed to account for such a god as this— a god who could hate his own creatures so much.

"Burn me, and this land will suffer a fate worse than death," she hissed as her captors tightened her bonds. "The Great Mother will have her vengeance—"

Before (Y/N) could finish her warning, the young lad grabbed hold of one of the arrows through her shoulder and twisted it violently. (Y/N)'s vision went black with the pain, and she cried out, her own voice sounding to her like the scream of a wounded animal; after that, she knew no more.

***

Toga rode as hard and fast as she could, praying to whoever or whatever would listen that she would reach Dabi in time. If anyone could save her new friend, it would be him— Dabi, the Black Dragon of the League, and her closest friend in all the world. He had to save (Y/N), he just had to; anything else would break Toga's heart.

Surprisingly, luck seemed to be on her side; by the time Toga had set out, the League had mobilized, and she met them halfway from Illan. Twice rode at the head of the men, and he intercepted her news with no small amount of concern.

"Dabi is towards the middle of the formation," he told her, worry creasing his split forehead. "He won't be happy to hear of this."

Of that, Toga had no doubt— but she had no fear of it, either. Dabi was quick to anger, but even quicker to vengeance; he would rush to retrieve his wayward woman, and then he would deal with both she and Toga later. If Toga was guessing correctly, his first priority would be reconnaissance, and after that, well… Toga was sure he could be cajoled into being benevolent.

That is, if only they could get to (Y/N) quickly enough.

"Dabi!" she called when she caught sight of him across the way. "Dabi, this way!"

When he found her, he urged his horse forward with a deep frown.

"There you are," he said, glaring at her. "I was told I have you to thank for my missing priestess. Where did you go? And where is she? I know she complained enough to get a horse of her own, but that doesn't mean she gets to wander as she pleases."

Toga was next to tears.

"We left the League," she told him, and eyes more blue than the springtime sky widened in shock. "She told me— she said there were more goddess-blessed like us there, and we couldn't let them die— so we rode ahead to warn them, only—"

Toga couldn't make herself say it, but the way Dabi's expression twisted into something dark and nasty told her that she didn't need to.

"Did they take her?" he asked, and Toga nodded.

Dabi said nothing, but spurred his horse so hard that it reared on its hind legs before taking off like an arrow straight from the string of a master archer. Toga followed suit, digging her heels into the animal beneath her— she knew her horse was tired, but this was her mess as much as anyone's, and she was determined to see it through.

As they galloped the distance to Illan, Toga wondered what they would find, and how Dabi would react. When Dabi was at his usual marauding, he was happy-go-lucky, almost lackadaisical; his reaction to losing (Y/N) was anything but. His ferocity frightened Toga, and though some might call Dabi mad for laughing during a slaughter, she much preferred that mad, unhinged version of him over the rabid wolf of a man who rode like a demon ahead of her.

Smoke appeared high in the sky as they rode, and Dabi leaned forward into the saddle, urging his horse to go even faster. From where Toga sat, it seemed as though he were flying. She found herself falling further and further behind until Dabi was only just visible, and then the town of Illan appeared on the horizon, now seeming strange and foreboding after her encounter with its inhabitants.

By the time Toga caught up to Dabi, he had ridden straight into a throng of spectators who jeered around a burning pyre, the screams of the poor wretch tied to a stake amidst it nearly drowned out by their laughing and taunts. As she drew closer, Toga could see the figure clearly, and she cried out in horror as she saw (Y/N) pulling at the ropes that held her, her face contorted into a mask of fear and agony. The memory of that image— the horrific flames lapping at a living, breathing person, the tears of futile rage pouring down (Y/N)'s cheeks— would never be erased from Toga's mind, and yet somehow, what came next was even more unforgettable.

Dabi dismounted from his horse and strode directly into the flames.

Toga was no fool. She knew where all of Dabi's scars had come from, and she knew what strength it must have taken for him to endure the pain of getting them. Dabi was a man with a single ambition, a solitary goal, and he had never once failed to make every possible sacrifice to ensure his success, even at the expense of his own flesh— but never, ever had Toga even once considered that he would put himself at risk for anything other than his cause.

And yet there he was, literally walking through fire for a woman he barely knew.

Toga wanted to call out, wanted to follow him into those golden flames and fix the mess she'd caused, but her instincts of self-preservation kept her rooted to the spot. She stayed back, well away from the pyre, but even from where she was, she could see Dabi slicing away at the ropes around (Y/N)'s wrists. Heart in her throat, Toga watched as Dabi freed (Y/N), pulling her close; he scooped up the wounded priestess, carrying her down from the flames, and as they emerged, Toga saw that the flesh of (Y/N)'s legs and arms was badly burned. Gently, Dabi laid (Y/N) down at his feet, and as he turned to face the crowd, Toga knew exactly what he planned to do.

In the end, Toga couldn't make herself stay to watch; she turned her horse around and urged it gently away, unwilling to bear witness to Dabi's wrath.

Blue flames— so beautiful, darker than the day-sky, but lighter than the night— sprang to life behind her. Powerful words— angry words, words older than the world itself— were screamed to the heavens, and screams of pain and terror followed close behind. Dabi would not leave a single soul alive, Toga knew; he would destroy every living thing in Illan for the sake of the woman who had tried to save them.

Such irony.

***

Dabi couldn't sleep.

Really, that was just as well, since the sun was beginning to peek out over the horizon— but exhaustion hung over him like a shade from the realm of those passed on, and Dabi most likely had precious little time before (Y/N) woke and confronted him with his own actions.

Damn, he bloody well hated that woman. Mere hours ago, he had been ready to burn the world for her sake; now, he'd rather spear her than speak to her.

There was something about (Y/N) that drove him mad. Dabi couldn't put his finger on it, but between that barbed tongue and those damnably beautiful eyes, she could drive a man to the very end of his wits— and, for someone as mad as Dabi, that was a very difficult thing indeed. She was impossible, insufferable, intractable, and yet for all that she was, Dabi would die before he would give her up. He had never wanted so badly to truly own another person— in truth, he had never wanted that at all before now— but he wanted to possess her in every way possible. He wanted to consume her and be consumed.

And yet here he was, thinking of setting her free.

Obviously, she didn't want to stay— and, at this rate, she would get one or both of them killed before she allowed herself to be kept prisoner, which was simply unacceptable. Dabi didn't fear death, but he had an ambition to fulfill before that time came, and he didn't intend to die pointlessly before that ambition had been reached. Thus, it seemed, his best option was to release (Y/N) to go where she willed before something worse than the day before happened.

But oh, how he hated admitting defeat, succumbing to the will of a woman like a foolish peasant-boy! It was bloody shameful.

Shaking his head, Dabi decided to take a dip in the river that he'd brought (Y/N) to lay beside as she healed. Gingerly, he shucked his clothes, his burnt skin and tired muscles sore and aching from the previous day's events, and he walked stark naked into the water, wishing he could just submerge himself and never return to this world of war and heretics and hate.

As he swam, feeling the push and pull of the river's flow, all Dabi could think about was how much (Y/N) had suffered, and how afraid he'd been that she wouldn't last the night. For hours and hours, the priestess had cried quiet tears of agony, and the sounds she made as her body forced itself to knit back together had broken his heart. Her burns had been extensive, more so than the ones he often accidentally inflicted on himself in battle; the best he could do for her was clean and bandage the horrible burns on her body while she rested. Dabi would never admit it to anyone, but as he held her hand through the worst of it, he’d prayed to the goddess, pleading for (Y/N)’s life and for any amount of mercy that could be spared for her pain. Blessedly, his prayers had been answered when she finally reached that place of unconscious bliss that would give her rest, and Dabi thought he had never been more relieved. Dabi wasn't sure he would have lasted through the night himself if her suffering had had no end.

“Touya.”

At first, Dabi thought he’d imagined the word. He submerged himself in water, allowing the freezing cold to soak his hair and fill his ears until he could stand it no longer and forced himself back to the surface.

“Touya.”

This time, he turned his head towards the sound, and he was surprised to find (Y/N) not prone on the ground where he had placed her, but walking forward to wade in the river, as naked as the day she was born. Caution and propriety thrown to the wind, he drank in the sight of her, the newly-healed burn scars on her legs and torso pink and tender-looking, and found that she was still so beautiful that it hurt to look at her.

In that moment, Dabi wanted (Y/N) more than he had ever wanted anything

Don’t, he told himself, wary as she came closer, the river swallowing more of her form as she strode into deeper waters. She’s the reason you’re in this mess.

Back in Illan— or what was left of Illan— he’d let vengeance consume him more than he ever had before. No matter what he did, every step he took up to this point had been controlled, calculated… but what he had done in Illan was anything but. He’d let his emotions get the better of him, and as seemed to be his wont where (Y/N) was concerned, he’d managed to terrify himself with just how mad he could be for her.

“Feeling better?” he asked, aiming for casual and hitting closer to exhausted.

(Y/N) nodded, staring at him intently. “Thanks to you, yeah.”

“Good,” he replied, intending to let the conversation end there, but a warm, dry hand touched his bicep, and those age-old eyes were looking at him with something unreadable lurking within them.

“Touya,” she said a third time, “Thank you.”

Dabi shrugged, uncomfortable.

(Y/N) reached up, placing a hand on his cheek. She turned his face to her, studying him once more, and Dabi was torn between leaning into her touch and slapping her hand away. When he caught the flash of gold on her left hand, though, the decision became easy.

“Tsk-tsk, pussy-cat,” he said roughly, jerking away from her. “What would your betrothed say?”

Her eyes widened in surprise, then softened into something like regret.

“Shoto would want me to be happy,” she said, “and he would be grateful to you for saving my life.”

Shoto… her husband-to-be was named Shoto. The name was all too familiar— and really, how many other 'Shoto's were there in the whole of the realm that were high enough in rank to marry the Hand of Cerridwen? Shoto, his baby brother, the perfect creation of their father, the success that outshone Dabi's own failure, was without a doubt (Y/N)'s precious fiance.

Dabi could have laughed if he hadn't felt so much like screaming.

“It’s not like that,” (Y/N) told him, letting her hand fall back to her side. “We love each other, but we’re not… in love. He’s like a brother to me.”

Me too, actually, Dabi almost said, then choked out a bitter laugh.

Really, it was too much. Distantly, Dabi wondered how long it would take him to drown if he really put his mind to it— but before he could put anything into action, (Y/N) was touching him again, and he was suddenly more interested in how to drown her.

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, but by then, (Y/N) was tip-toeing to run her hand through his hair, and he froze as her fingers drifted over the sensitive places at the back of his head, leaving chills in their wake.

“Your hair,” she said, looking up at him with a puzzled expression as her hand came away stained with black. “It’s— it’s white.”

Dabi stiffened further, his mind racing.

“Kind of hard to go natural with a name like Black Dabi,” he said, but (Y/N)’s eyes said she wasn’t fooled for a moment.

“You know the Old Tongue,” (Y/N) murmured, close enough now that she could kiss him. “You have the looks and bearing of a nobleman, and I’m willing to bet you can read and write better than anyone for a hundred miles.”

Dabi hastened to interrupt her, but (Y/N) would have none of it.

“You have white hair, your name is Touya, and when you find out I’m to marry Todoroki Shoto, you look like you could rip out your own kidney,” she accused, her gaze moving from his lips to his eyes. “Tell me, Todoroki Touya, what sort of fool do you take me for?”

“One I should have let burn for a witch,” he snarled, but then (Y/N) was pulling him to her by the hair, and anger and lust intermingled to become something else, something more clawing inside his chest, and he kissed her back more out of reflex than anything.

“You’re all talk,” she said against his lips, her mouth tasting of the tears she’d shed the night before. “Come, tell me true— is that who you are? The dead Todoroki brother that left such a hole in the mighty Endeavor’s heart and life?”

To deny it would be futile, to confirm it would be foolish, and to do neither would give up his secret straightaway— the best Dabi could do was barter for information, which he did as though his life depended on it.

“A secret for a secret,” he said, touching his nose to hers. “You tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”

(Y/N) paused for a moment. At first, Dabi thought that she was just going to pull away, but then she was speaking, and Dabi couldn’t believe his ears.

“It's not a secret, but… after thinking about what happened last night, I’ve decided to stay with you and the League,” she admitted softly. “Every time I run, the goddess pushes me back, so there must be a reason I’m here. Besides, I— ”

(Y/N) stopped then, struggling with her words, and Dabi looked up to meet her eyes. When he did, he saw that she looked almost frightened, and he wanted nothing more than to hold her.

“I’m growing rather fond of you, despite my best efforts to hate you— in a way, more fond than I ever was of Shoto,” she admitted hoarsely, “And I have no idea what to do with that. I just want to know you for yourself, not who and what the world thinks you are.”

The feeling was entirely mutual.

Dabi was speechless at her admission and his subsequent realization, but (Y/N) must have taken his silence for rejection, because she backed away, shame written on her face. Dabi moved forward, unwilling to allow this new distance between them, but his foot caught on something and he tripped, nearly falling face-first into the water. (Y/N), on the other hand, did fall face-first into the water as she tried to keep him from falling, and between the two of them trying (and failing) to help each other up, both of them ended up beneath the water at least twice before they made it to shore, spluttering and gasping the whole way.

“Next time I think I’’l let you drown,” (Y/N) groused as she stumbled over to her clothes, yanking what was left of her partially-charred shirt over her head. “How is that water so bloody cold!”

“Don’t ask me,” said Dabi, mirroring the action before pulling on his breeches. “After all, it’s technically your world and I’m just living in it, goddess incarnate.”

They looked at each other then, and they shared a smile, then a laugh; soon, they were giggling at each other, clutching their sides in their mirth. (Y/N)’s eyes sparkled in the early dawn as she laughed, and Dabi’s heart did a funny little flip when she took his hand in hers and looked deep into his eyes with a smile brighter than a thousand suns.

She was beautiful, and Dabi suddenly felt ill-favored in comparison.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile like that," he told her past the lump in his throat.

"That's only because you haven't seen much of me," she replied, "but we'll fix that by and by."

She touched his face again, her thumb bumping over the ridges of metal connecting his skin to his scars, and she kissed him softly, tenderly, in a way he had never been kissed before. Dabi felt raw and terrified of that tenderness, but he kissed her back, not quite knowing what else to do.

"For a woman who's supposed to be spoken for, you sure are liberal with your affection," he said, pulling away with the thought of his little brother's hands resting on the same hips he'd held so tightly only a moment before. "Am I to just take you at your word that little Shoto doesn't care what his wife-to-be gets up to?"

At that, (Y/N) arched a brow with a funny little smirk.

"You really are his brother, aren't you?"

Dabi narrowed his eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"Little Shoto? The infamous mile-long Todoroki possessive streak?" she asked, folding her arms. "A blessing that gives you the ability to create flames? Those famous baby blues Enji's known for?"

Dabi's mood darkened instantly.

"Don't say his name in front of me."

(Y/N)'s brows shot up.

"Oh, you are definitely a Todoroki."

Dabi sighed. "Does it really matter?"

(Y/N) shrugged. "You brought it up. Shoto and I are friends, Touya, not lovers. You have nothing to fear on that front. Although, for what it's worth… he hated your father too. Things used to be— well— not so good, but Enji really has changed."

"Don't."

Dabi couldn't handle that talk— not without proper rest, a meal, and someone he could beat the hell out of handy.

"Okay." (Y/N) nodded to herself, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm just so used to this with—"

She stopped herself, and Dabi felt disgust well in the pit of his stomach.

"You can say it," he said, the words bitter in his mouth. "With my brother."

(Y/N) frowned.

"Now, why are you angry with me?" she asked, as though it wasn't fucking obvious. "I'm trying to be sensitive about this, but—"

"But what?" he snapped. "It's not enough that you drag me into every fucking mad situation you can possibly think of by running off every chance you get and kiss me breathless whenever you get half a fucking chance even though you're engaged to be married— oh no, that's not enough by far, so you pry into my family history like you know any-fucking-thing about my past and most especially my father. Is that any way to treat the man that keeps saving you?"

(Y/N) was silent then, her expression shuttering closed.

"I understand why you're angry about me prying about your family," she said, sincere but unmoving. "I have no right to question you about any of it, and I'm sorry if I opened any old wounds for you in the process. In fact, I'll even accept blame for being unfaithful to Shoto, though we've never had so much as the illusion of romantic love— but know this, Touya. That you ran headlong after me and straight into trouble is your problem. I refuse to apologize for something I never asked for, so don't throw your little rescue stunts in my face like I owe you anything for them."

(Y/N) was right; she didn't owe him anything. Whatever the circumstances were, Dabi had always followed her willingly and had rescued her of his own accord. The truth was that he'd lashed out because he was jealous— jealous of her friendship with Shoto, jealous of the intimate knowledge she seemed to possess of his family, jealous of the fact that while his younger brother, the prodigy child, would marry (Y/N), Dabi would forever be the rejected son, the eugenic failure of the family. He was jealous of it all— he was practically green with it— and it was getting harder and harder to care whether or not his anger at (Y/N) was even justified.

"Oh boy," said (Y/N), speaking before he could formulate an appropriately scathing response. "Spare me the brooding— I don't need a lecture. I'm sorry, alright? Get back to me later on whether or not you accept, because right now I'm going to go find something I can use as pants for when we head back to camp."

She moved to turn away, but Dabi caught her roughly by the arm. (Y/N) yelped, but didn't protest as he pulled her back to him, his blood as hot as his temper.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked her, suddenly finding his footing again. Tenderness, gentleness— those things were confusing. But anger? Frustration? Lust? Those were things he knew well.

"Away from you," she huffed.

"You kiss a man like he's air and expect to leave him without following through?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "I thought you knew better than that, pussy-cat."

"I was under the impression that this man in particular was too caught up in the details of my engagement to bother with anything more than boorish jealousy," she shot back. "So if you'll excuse me—"

Dabi only pulled her closer.

"Let me make this clear," he said, his lips inches from hers. "I don't give a damn about that stupid chunk of gold on your finger— I'll fuck you whether or not you're going to be some barefoot, pregnant housewife for my little brother. I was just a little shocked; you'd think the Hand of Cerridwen would show a little commitment to the vows she intends to make, after all."

"You'd think," (Y/N) agreed, her eyes drifting to his lips. "but I haven't made any vows yet, so as far as I'm concerned, I'm off the hook."

Against his better judgment, Dabi kissed her again, releasing her hair, and she moaned into his mouth as he slipped his tongue between her lips. Goddess help him, but the feel of those perfect breasts in his hands would be Dabi's undoing— he kneaded them as he kissed (Y/N), brushing his thumbs over her nipples just to feel that little gasp against his lips once more.

If he died then and there, he'd die a happy man.

"That's it," he murmured, pressing a soft, teasing kiss to (Y/N)'s ear. "Let me fucking feel you."

And exactly as she had before, she did just that.

Unfolding like a flower before him, (Y/N) took off the tattered shirt that had been covering her breasts and grabbed Dabi by the back of his neck, silently asking for his attention to her newly-revealed skin. Dabi was all too happy to comply, dipping his head so that he could lick and suck at her nipples, and her hands found their way into his hair, pulling him ever closer. It was like heaven, the way they fit together— he had never felt like this before with anyone else. The other time, he'd assumed—well, it had been Beltane, hadn't it? Weirder things had happened at the turn of the seasons— but then, this— goddess divine, this was incredible.

"Tell me, priestess," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, "Do you suck cock?"

"About half so well as I should like," she admitted a bit shyly, carding her fingers through his hair, "But I like to think it's lack of practice and not lack of talent that impedes my performance."

"We'll see, then." Dabi pulled back to find (Y/N) looking at him with an impossibly cheeky yet timid expression. "I'll be the judge of your skill, and believe me, pussy-cat, you won't find a teacher more rewarding than I. Now, on your knees."

That last bit— the command— he'd spoken in the Old Tongue. (Y/N) shivered, but did as he asked, and then it was Dabi's turn to shiver as she looked up with him with a strange mix of trust and mischief.

"Well, go on then," he said, and (Y/N) grinned up at him. "Haven't got all morning."

(Y/N) brought the head of his half-hard cock to her lips, and watching him all the way, stuck out her tongue and bloody well kitten-licked the very tip.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled, and from the next moment onward, all cogent thought was lost to sensation.

Truly, Dabi couldn't have said what level of skill the priestess had as she gave him pleasure from her lips and tongue; he was too busy trying to keep his knees from buckling as she worked him, so focused on her task that he might not have even been present except for his cock. She was especially beautiful like that, he realized— no wonder the goddess commanded her acolytes to kneel in prayer. Dabi imagined that nearly everyone looked their best from the ground like that.

"Yes," he groaned as she fondled his balls, playing with them as her mouth worked his shaft. "Just like that, fuck."

Distantly, Dabi wondered if it would be entirely inappropriate to forgo his quest of fury and vengeance in the pursuit of teaching (Y/N) the art of the perfect blowjob. Certainly, the task of it couldn't be more dangerous than his current one, and the reward— though temporary— was quite tempting. Now, if only there was a way to earn gold while doing it—

"Bloody hard work."

It took Dabi a moment to register the words.

"What?"

(Y/N) looked up at him with a cheeky grin, brushing a thumb roughly over the head of his cock, and it twitched in her capable hand.

"I said it's bloody hard work."

Her lips were wet and swollen, but Dabi couldn't bring himself to be sorry for it. He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb and asked,

"Do you want a break?"

(Y/N) shook her head, and her grip on him tightened.

"Not at all. I want you to take over."

Once more, it took Dabi a moment to process, but once he did, he grinned like a wolf in a sheep pen.

"Wicked, filthy thing," he taunted, tilting her chin upward. "You want me to fuck that pretty face?"

(Y/N)'s gaze flicked from his eyes to his cock and back, and she smiled.

"Yes," she said, tilting her head to the side. "I do."

Dabi didn't need to be told twice. Gently at first, he cradled the sides of her face, guiding her to take him back into the wet warmth of her mouth, and then his hands moved to the back of her head, forcing her all the way down his length until her nose was pressed against the white curls at his base.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, thrusting even further in just to hear her gag. Her throat constricted and she jerked away, but he held her still, pushing her head back down to feel the pressure against his cock return. Then, knowing she needed air, he pulled briefly back out before sliding home again, this time thrusting easily in and out before setting a brutal pace that had his balls slapping against her chin— eventually, he noticed that the harder he thrust, the faster the hand between her legs began to move, and he shuddered knowing that she was getting off just as much as he was.

He came an embarrassingly short time after that, and (Y/N) nearly choked as his seed hit the back of her throat.

"A little warning is customary," she groused, looking a good sight more than miffed, but Dabi kissed away her argument, tasting the bitter flavor of his own come in her mouth while wondering what it might be like to lick it from her cunt.

"Sorry," he told her quite before he realized what he was saying. "It surprised me too, pussy-cat. Now lay back— it's my turn."

"N-no, no, that's okay," she stammered, linking her fingers together and pressing her hands into her lap. "I- well, I already, y'know…"

She looked at him with expectant embarrassment, and when it finally dawned on Dabi what she meant, he couldn't believe it.

"You are wicked," he grinned, dropping to his knees so that they were level with one another. "Getting off from having your throat fucked? How nasty."

As he pulled her to him for a filthy kiss, (Y/N) squirmed. Her thighs were pressed tightly together, but he pried them apart with his hands so that he could lay her down and situate himself between them as he kissed and touched the length of her body, unwilling to give up this intimacy so soon.

"Give me a bit," he murmured against her neck, "and I'll be ready to go again. I want your cunt to be dripping with my spend when we get back so that everyone will know to whom you belong."

(Y/N) shuddered at that, and Dabi thought that perhaps he should turn every argument they had into sex from here on out— it'd be a damn sight more productive than anything else he'd thought to try, and if they were going to attempt to cohabitate, it was probably better for both their health if he channeled their passion into the place it belonged.

#dabi #dabi x reader #mybigbangacademia #touya x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #dabi smut #dabi x y/n #touya x y/n #fantasy au #enemies to lovers #a suitable match (to start a fire)

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