#Cross sees Dream hurting and missing his au and can’t help but make yet another bad choice he can’t help this

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✨👑 Throne 👑✨ pages 1-2

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[mrwinterr]

Over & Over

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky Barnes AU x Pornstar!Female Reader

Summary: You’re an up-and-coming adult film star secretly eager to work with the popular Bucky Barnes, and with just the right connections, your paths cross much sooner than later.

Warnings: Adult themes. Smut 18+ (unprotected sex, vaginal penetration and instructional fingering, oral [male & female receiving], size kink, spit & cum play, a smudge of male dominance), dirty talk and language.

Disclaimer: I don’t know how the porn industry works; this was just written for fun.

Title Inspiration: “Over & Over” by Smallpools

A/N: After doping up on strong painkillers wasn’t enough, I thought releasing endorphins would help ease my headache, so once again watching porn inspired another fic. Idk. I’m a mess. Enjoy!

Slipping on your oversized sunglasses, you walk along the rectangular outline of the hotel’s lavish pool, to one of the vacant lounge chairs next to the redheaded goddess, whose wings you were taken under and could gratefully call a close friend. You hadn’t known a single soul when you packed up and moved west to Los Angeles at 18, but you knew you were destined for more than what your humdrum life back at home could offer.

The porn industry wasn’t your first choice at a career in entertainment, but the starving profession wasn’t paying the bills fast enough. You weren’t going to survive in L.A. another year juggling to pay for tuition and stay enrolled in acting school from the income of working menial jobs and booking small gigs. However, one minor role as an extra in a one-night stand sex scene of a TV show, you catch the eye of the multitalented adult film actress Natasha Romanoff.

It was pure coincidence she was also casted, playing a bigger role, of the same episode, but she saw more in you in your less than 15 seconds of fame than most casting agents did before offering you a chance to shadow her. You knew she looked familiar and you were no stranger to watching porn, but when you’re as down on your luck as you were, you went all in and soon enough countless scenes now under your belt within a year, you’re porn’s best female newcomer.

“There’s this year’s Best New Starlet!” Natasha proclaims loudly for almost everyone around to hear.

Lucky for you, the shades conceal the roll of your eyes at her comment as you kick off your flip-flops and remove the thin cover up to reveal your skimpy bikini. You dare look over at her in time to catch her mocking reaction, jaw dropped from your attitude.

“After all I’ve done for you,” she says, placing a hand to her heart, feigning hurt.

The pair of you laugh at your nonsense and after she helps you with applying the appropriate amount of sun care protection, you recline in your seats and attempt to soak up some sun. It was a much-needed break with the long stressful week of the award show now behind everyone. Your hard work had paid off and after all you did learn from the best.

Your predecessor before you, Natasha was also a former Best New Starlet, and now is a household name in pornography. She didn’t welcome a lot of people into her inner circle, but she had plans to one day direct and knew she had to find the next big thing before anyone else to take her place.

“Hello, ladies,” comes from the voice of this year’s Director of the Year and other close friend Wanda Maximoff.

“Hey Wanda,” you greet her by sitting up to give her a proper hug.

You met her through her twin brother, Pietro, who happened to be your first co-star and was very welcoming and caring to you. The twins took care of you during your first few months starting out. Much like Natasha did for you, you help her administer the same amount of sunscreen on her body.

“Congrats on your achievement,” she says wholeheartedly, looking over her shoulder at you as you finish up on her back, and even under the heat of the sun, she could still see the blush creep up on your face.

“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Natasha comments casually, to which Wanda nods enthusiastically, only speeding up the process of the rose tints on your cheeks to spread all over your face. They were your biggest fans and supporters; you were so happy you could make them proud.

“I owe it all to the queen herself,” you say, downplaying your achievement and turning the attention to your mentor in Natasha. She scoffs at that and teases you about just taking the damn compliment. You put in the work; it was all you.

“Seriously, you deserved it,” Wanda says honestly, and you finally accept the praise.

“So, what’s next for miss Director of the Year?” Natasha asks leaning on a propped elbow, body facing towards you and Wanda.

“Well, I managed to finally book Bucky Barnes in an upcoming project…” she starts out, but the moment you heard his name slip from her lips, the rest almost didn’t matter.

Bucky Barnes was somewhat of a legend. There wasn’t a model or director that didn’t want to work with him. The man was downright gifted in every aspect and his work speaks for itself. Before you broke onto the scene, you’d gotten off to his videos, and only dreamed of one day starring in a scene with him, but you were still new to this world.

As a promising star, you had a long way to go and tons of plots, positions and people to still experience, so landing a role with someone like Bucky Barnes wasn’t entirely written in your plans any time soon. Then again, your first girl-on-girl scene was with your mentor herself, so anything could happen, right?

“I just haven’t found my girl yet,” was the next thing you pick up Wanda say the moment your head comes back from the clouds, “...I have all this momentum now that I want this to blow everyone away, especially Stark.”

Tony Stark was her rival. It was a friendly competition amongst friends. You hadn’t gotten the chance to work for him yet. He was a playful character and had directed some of the best adult films out there, Wanda just happened to be the better of the two this year…

“Sorry, I’m retired,” Natasha reminds her and repositions herself on her back.

“Fuck you,” Wanda says playfully to which Natasha responds with a finger in the air before she clarifies, “I was hinting at this year’s Best New Starlet…” and slyly looking in your directly.

“Me?” You ask incredulously. Your head can’t even start processing that you’re finally getting the opportunity to work with Bucky.

Wanda rolls her eyes at your obliviousness, “no, last year’s Best New Starlet. Hell no! Of course, you!” You respond in the same manner as your mentor, who is more than amused at you also following her lead, and flip Wanda off. Wanda snatches your hand to bring it away from her face, “I’m serious!”

“I-I don’t know, Wan,” a part of you is a little scared that you’re not going to be able to keep up with someone as established and with the star power as Bucky, “...like you said, you have all this momentum behind you. I don’t want to fuck this scene up because I don’t have a lot of experience.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Natasha pipes up on the other side of you. “This is the perfect role for you!” She sees the questionable look on your face and sighs before explaining. “You’re a fresh face and rising star! People are lining up to book you, Stark included.”

“Nat is right. You’re a hot commodity now! I need someone who is a little inexperienced to mix with someone that is,” Wanda further explains her premise, “let him take the lead, but at your pace. I need it to be raw and passionate. People love that shit!” They were right, he had all the experience, and you were a fresh loveable face. It was the perfect combination.

You remain quiet for several seconds before Natasha rats you out, “and don’t even try to act like you don’t want to work with Barnes. This is your fantasy come to life.” Way to throw you under the bus like that…

There’s no denying your goal to work with him. He’d been in this business much longer than you had, you didn’t think your paths would ever cross on a set, but the opportunity couldn’t have presented itself in a more perfect point in your career.

The room is very pristine. White walls with a king size bed, also adorned in white sheets, fluffy pillows scattered at the top, minimal furniture around to make it look realistic, and the lighting was just right. Wanda had received a hefty budget after her recognition that’s for sure.

“Alright, girly, let’s get you on the bed!” Wanda happily directs.

You nod silently, remove your footwear and plop down on the center of the large mattress. You decide to leave your legs sprawled on one side of your body, settling on a bashful position. It’s not hard for you because although you agreed to do this and have done several scenes, internally, you’re freaking the fuck out. Unbeknownst to you, it’s all part of your charm; the innocence you somehow still radiated was an all too endearing quality and actually sexy.

Even your attire was pretty modest, opting for a more casual look with black leggings and a tight long sleeve that accentuates your figure and shows off the right amount of cleavage. It was something that you could easily wear out in public, which again was a part of your brand in being as natural as possible, but come the right circumstances, when it was time to roll you could turn on the right switch.

“We’ll start off like a typical casting interview before we bring Bucky in and then we’ll go from there. Sounds good?” She runs down the plan with you, fixing a few strands of flyaway hairs on your head before back away from the bed. With a thumbs up and a smile from you, she starts recording.

“Welcome, Best New Starlet of the Year!” Wanda greets from behind the camera.

“Hi,” you politely reply with your signature sweet smile and a wave to the screen.

These scenes start off with a small interview recounting your tale into the porn industry leading up to your recent achievement and even delving a bit into your personal life before the topic changes to your co-star.

“So, how excited are you to work with Bucky today?”

No matter how hard you practiced at keeping a straight poker face, that was something you were unable to master from Natasha, and the blush couldn’t be contained.

Fidgeting at the hem of your top, you open and close your mouth, trying to find the right words. You’re overly flustered at the thought of Bucky and he wasn’t even in front of you yet. You don’t want to sound like a fool and ruin the atmosphere. Wanda mouths words of advice from where she sat in the director’s chair, “be honest.”

“Um, I’m...nervous,” you say truthfully.

“Nervous?” She questions, urging you to elaborate.

“Yeah, he’s Bucky Barnes! He’s hot and he’s got so much experience. I’m kind of scared I’ll be boring,” you finish explaining and hope to God that Natasha doesn’t kill you afterwards, or with that answer let Wanda down, but the smile on her face sends you a wave of assurance.

Maybe you could do this...

Earlier that day, Bucky had already recorded his little opening scene. Wanda had called him to report on set before you were scheduled to arrive.

On the contrary, Bucky was also a tab bit anxious to work with you. He’d seen some of your work and more so heard about your talent from his own best friend, Steve Rogers.

He didn’t deny it, he was very much attracted to you and he wanted a chance to work with you too. Bucky wasn’t a jealous person, which made working in the porn industry easy for him, but when he had to hear Steve recount his scenes with you, he couldn’t help but want to sock his own childhood friend. He didn’t of course, but the rage was evident and his other friend, Sam Wilson, took some sick pleasure in teasing him over it. In fact, the eccentric personality of the trio of friends, decided to tag along with Bucky to introduce himself to you and get under his skin a little more.

“What’s going on in that nasty head of yours?” Sam poked at Bucky as they made their way over to Wanda, who was by the camera setup going over a script with another stagehand. When Bucky doesn’t respond, it provokes Sam even more, “no way, you’re nervous!”

Bucky sighs fed up with dealing with the anxiety brewing ever since he found out he was going to star in this film with you. “Shut the fuck up, will you? Of course, I’m nervous,” he says, trying to remain calm.

“Dude, you’ve slept with some of the hottest people in the world and millions of people have seen you naked. Why is one girl any different?” Sam wonders.

“I don’t know, ok. She just seems so down-to-earth and normal?” Bucky attempts to explain. You were real. His work was just that, it was a work, and he was afraid that it would be different with you. He could say he was almost intimidated by you.

“Yeah, as if I don’t have to hear that enough from Rogers…” Sam chimed in. Steve had nothing but high praise for your performance. In fact, his testimony helped expose you a little further. He was an honorable performer and a respected one, so they took his word on you. “Maybe, I’ll be her next co-star,” and just like that Sam ruined a moment.

“God, I hate you,” was the last thing exchanged between the two friends as they finally reached Wanda. She warned Sam to behave and gave Bucky a quick rundown before instructing him to hop on the bed.

Bucky’s interview starts a little differently than yours. Having already been a more established performer than yourself, no one needed his background story. The only thing Wanda wanted out of him was his plans and opinion on you.

“Well, I don’t know too much about her, personally speaking...but everyone seems to love her,” Bucky’s answer was a bit bland for Wanda.

“She’s a great person to work with,” she comments and that’s a tactic most directors used to get talent to keep talking.

“That’s what Steve keeps saying,” he says with somewhat of an awkward light laugh. He could see Sam facepalming next to Wanda at that lame answer.

“Yeah, you don’t win best female newcomer for nothing,” Wanda points out. If anyone was the lucky one here, it was Bucky. He was climbing up in age and you were the next big thing. You were the real star of this film not Bucky. She was counting more on you to deliver than him.

“That’s right. She’s a very talented performer,” Bucky says, and this small comment opens up a can of worms for Wanda to build up on.

“Oh, so you’ve seen some of her work?” Bam! He was caught.

Bucky’s mouth starts twitching slightly and Wanda and Sam are smirking from their spots as they watch the gears in Bucky’s mind start turning faster trying to think of something. The only piece of advice Wanda gives is “be honest.”

He sighs, the jig was up. Smooth Bucky Barnes was caught red-handed, “yeah, I’ve watched some scenes. I’ve seen her in person a few times too…”

“Wait,” Wanda interrupts him abruptly. She knew you were attracted to Bucky, but never knew of any encounters between you two, “when did you meet her?”

“I haven’t,” Bucky starts, which causes a look of mass confusion on Wanda’s face before he follows up, “formally. I haven’t met her formally, but I’ve seen her at a few parties and at the award show...I was just nervous to walk up to her,” the words just kept flowing out of his mouth and he inwardly cringed at how awkward he might’ve sounded.

Sam was amused by his embarrassment, but Wanda was pleased with this result. Bucky was good at what he did and that included him trying to play it cool, which he did well on screen, sometimes.

“You know she was actually thrilled to find out she would be working with you,” Wanda said, stretching the truth. The truth was, you hadn’t verbally confessed that, at least not yet.

“Really?” Bucky asks all too hopeful, his mood noticeably perking up.

“Yup! Ever since she won Best New Starlet of the Year, people have been lining up to book her, but she chose this project. You were the deal breaker, Barnes,” she fabricated and hoped this all worked out for you two in the end.

“Wow, who would’ve thought this has-been still had it in him?” He jokes at himself. His humility would get the best of him in every situation.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! You didn’t win Best Male Performer of the Year again for nothing!” Wanda says and then steers the interview to a close.

After wrapping up Bucky’s scene, he’s allowed to stay in another room with a monitor. At first, he thinks it’s to help him prep for the scene, but to his surprise it’s a live feed of your interview and he starts clinging onto your every word. Enthralled by your journey, work ethic and he gets flustered all over again hearing you talk about your equal eagerness to work with him.

“You know, if anyone is the lucky one in this situation, it’s Barnes,” Wanda reminds as your interview comes to an end.

“Right,” you sarcastically remark.

“Are you ready for us to bring Bucky in?” She asks.

“It’s now or never,” you reply. 

You watch the doorknob twist and the door open to slowly reveal Bucky. Where do you even start with him? He just looked like the total package. His gaze immediately on yours. As he makes his way towards the bed you’re still sitting on, when his knee comes in contact to the edge, you maneuver your body in his direction, sit up on your knees to meet him halfway and welcome him in a hug.

“Hi, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he says when you pull apart. The both of you don’t break away completely. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck, his hands placed just above your waist, you can feel his fingers that slipped under the fabric rub your skin.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you respond, giving him a genuine smile and can’t help but stare at his pretty face. You had to remind yourself he’s just another guy, except he wasn’t. You didn’t know how he felt, but you wanted this, wanted him. You also don’t know if you’ll ever work him again after today, so he was going to get the real you.

A small, subtle clearing of someone’s throat shatters the staring contest between you and Bucky causing you both to sheepishly break away from the other, not realizing you’d both allowed dreaded dead airtime to pass by. You scoot over to make room for him next to you on the bed. After he pulls his footwear off, he sits cross legged in front of you, you have one leg tucked in and the other extended in front.

Bucky’s not entirely oblivious. He not only witnessed you backstage reveal you were actually nervous to work with him, he could feel it, so at an attempt to help ease both your nerves, he places a hand on your shin and absentmindedly run his hand up and down the fabric, fingers sometimes stopping to mess with the cuff of your leggings and at the skin of your ankle, while he listened to you speak.

He congratulated you on your achievement as you did with him, both a blushing mess before diving into different topics like traveling and other interests.

Wanda stood proudly behind the camera watching the scene unfold. Everything was so candid and real between you and Bucky, the chemistry was clearly evident, she didn’t foresee there would be much directing on her part today, which was going to make her job easy.

“Wanda said you were excited to work with me,” Bucky teases, wanting to see if what you said was just for the cameras or if it was really true, but also, he found out he liked to see you get all hot and bothered in more than one way.

Your jaw drops and you look directly into the camera, breaking the fourth wall, calling out to Wanda. You playfully chastise and curse at her for revealing your secret. She tells you it was going to come out anyways, and while that was true, you’d hoped it was later and much after you’ve slept with him, hoping it doesn’t ruin the shoot, but Bucky assures you that it’s actually a flattering to hear or in his words, “assuring” for someone like him.

“Are you kidding?” You say, lightly shoving him back, “you’re like a legend! Of course, I was excited! I’m surprised you agreed to work with a rookie like me!” Now that the cat was out of the bag, you might as well own up to your secret.

“Everyone wants to work with you,” he makes clear, leaning in closer. Fuck, he didn’t even need to initiate foreplay because with the way he was looking at you right now, you could come swear you’d come undone for him in an instant.

“Oh really?” You challenge, your body gravitating like a magnet towards his.

“Yup, Steve wouldn’t shut up about you and even Sam said he can’t wait to someday work with you,” he said, voice slowly dropping in decibels and his hands sliding up your thighs.

“Did he?” You ask, but you don’t really care about Sam as your eyes look dead into Bucky’s blue ones, swirling into a darker shade full of deep want and desire.

“Yeah, but let’s see if he still wants to try to outdo me after I’m done with you,” he whispers, finally closing the gap between your lips in a sweet kiss. It was about as sweet as it could last because after just one taste of your lips, he was a starved man, hungry for more. You tried your best to match his pace and the kiss turned sloppy very quick.

You moaned at the pressure of his lips pressed roughly against yours, and you do your best to keep up, but you’re already finding yourself short of breath. However, the more you try to pull back to regain some oxygen, the more he’s unwilling to part as he grasps your face in both hands to keep you still, so you lightly squeeze at his biceps as a warning in hope he gets the message.

Lucky for you, he does and lets up. He’s also noticeably breathless, his warm breath fanning against your kiss-swollen lips, his forehead resting against yours. Bucky’s hands are still on your face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and you let out a small chuckle at the sincerity. He was cute.

You take his hands in yours and bring them back down to begin undressing him starting by helping him slip his shirt over his head, the fashionable dog tags around his neck clank as it slaps against his toned chest, you let him keep them on though.

Bucky sits up on his knees as he watches you settle on your stomach, propped up by your elbows, hands getting ready to work on his lower half. He patiently watches as you unbuckle his belt, pop the button of his jeans off, and drag the zipper down.

With his pants hanging loose off his hips, you begin to plant soft kisses along his navel down the defined lines that lead to his cock. Each contact of your lips sends a ghostly tingle and the blood to rush even quicker down his lower region. The imprint of his endowed member doesn’t leave much to your imagination, you can already see the stain where the tip is through his tight boxer briefs. It gives you a little boost of confidence knowing you’d caused this and would get to take care of it.

You hook your fingers into the undergarment and tug them down his muscular thighs. His cock springs out, almost hitting you in the face causing you to jolt back a little and a smile to spread across Bucky’s.

Your clumsiness was also a part of your charm. It wasn’t on purpose, you were still learning after all, and that’s what made it so unique and fun to work with you. Your partners just felt a real, genuine connection, citing it felt less choreographed and of a porno with you.

A little embarrassed about that move, you’d watched what he can do with that cock, but nothing could’ve prepared you for it face-to-face. You don’t waste any time on getting your hands on him and wrap your fingers around his half-hard cock and start pumping him sensually.

He’s hot and soft in your hands before getting gradually heavy. The look in your eyes grows more predatory as you watch him grow and feel him getting harder with each pump causing more and more pre-cum to ooze out. You spread it all over the head of his cock with your thumb then daring to look up at him, hoping he was indeed enjoying your work, before you pucker your lips and kiss at the crown. Bucky curses when he sees your lips shining, coated in his pre-cum, with a string connecting you to his cock.

You gather the fluid up in your hand before spreading it all over his length, when it’s not enough you start not only pumping him faster, but also licking up and down, from the base to the tip, hoping to effectively slick him up. The way your tongue scrapes along over Bucky’s sensitive flesh stirs him up. Your other hand joins in to fondle with his neglected balls, massaging and pulling at them in the right moments, sometimes you travel a little south and take them in your mouth. It all but drives Bucky wild and it’s confirmed with each swear that leaves his mouth.

Bucky wants nothing more than to lodge himself deep in your throat, but he remembers he needs to go at your pace, and once you’re broken in a little more, you could follow his, so he’ll bide his time for now and watch you work.

When you’re ready to take him in, you regain his attention and he watches you slowly take in his inches down your mouth, stopping halfway before your wide-open mouth hollows out. Your full mouth immediately waters around him and it doesn’t take long before you’re a drooling mess all over his cock. You pull back torturously slow, looking back down watching his cock reappear and loving the way it disappears back in, and especially how it feels when it drags through your mouth, taking note of the veins and unique ridges.

“Don’t be like that, doll,” he says, wiping some of the hair away from your face, “come on and show me why they don’t stop talking about you,” he coaxes, now gathering some of your locks in his hand to completely give you both a clear view. He tries his best to not take the lead, but you don’t disappoint as your mouth works faster on him. The gagging and sucking, mixed with Bucky’s moans of pleasure soon become the soundtrack.

You’d gradually take him more and more in, close to deep throating him, and you’re just ready to let up, but he can’t help it and before your last round, he holds your head in place.

“Don’t quit now, baby,” he encourages you, placing his other hand on the back of your head, keeping you still and carefully starts to thrust his hips, urging you to take him all the way, “...that’s it, you can do it, you can take it,” he releases a big sigh feeling the tip of your nose bump his lower abdomen. The moisture builds up in the inner corner of your eyes and you do your best to mind your breathing and not choke.

“Fuck!” He can’t help but shout when he feels your throat contract around him. You just looked so divine, mouth full of his cock. He keeps you there for a few seconds, before releasing his hold, and you immediately pull back, drool dribbles down your chin, and you’re desperate for oxygen to return back into your system. He grabs your face by your chin forcing you to look up at him.

He uses his fingers to scoop up some of the mixed fluids of his arousal and your saliva at your chin before presenting it in front of you. You easily read his mind, look up at him with big, watery eyes, and take his coated digits in your abused mouth sucking the juices clean off him. 

He growls and commends you, “...such a good girl.” When he slips his fingers out of your mouth, a small pop could faintly be heard, he gently yanks at your hair, craning your head back further, it’s almost painful but you don’t care, “do it again,” he demands.

You bite your lip and reposition yourself. Bucky settles in a more comfortable position on his back, completely rid of his pants and underwear, his legs spread open for you to lie between them. Before you get back to the job, you slip your tight top off, all-natural breasts spilling out and on display for him. His cock twitches at the sight and he lets his head fall back when he’s once more fully encased in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

When he finally starts begging you to let up, you pull back slowly pumping him and watch his every move, the rise of his chest as it heaves from the activity, the way he runs his hands over his face. He’s absolutely stunned by your performance so far.

“On your back,” he says, and you do as he commands, and forget who is supposed to really be in charge. He yanks your leggings and panties all the way down, chucking them behind him somewhere in the corner of the room.

“You’re so sexy,” he compliments, eyes taking in every inch of your naked body, hands getting their fill. His body dips, lips latching onto your breasts, kissing at the skin and sucking on each nipple before they make their way up the juncture of your neck and claim your lips again.

You feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, and they part to grant him full access. You barely notice how he takes a hold of one of your hands, he pulls his face away to bring the hand in his grasp up to your face, using your fingers to trace the outline of your lips. You see him inaudibly instruct you to open your mouth, you do as you’re told.

“That’s right get those fingers nice and wet,” he coaxes you to suck on your own digits until he deems you ready for the next move. When he finally does pull your fingers out from your mouth, he extends your arm, ghosting them just over your pussy.

“Play with that clit,” he tells you and you don’t need to be told twice. Your pussy was begging for any kind of attention. You let your wet fingers roll over the bundle of nerves, puffs of breath escape your body as you’re finally attending to your own needs.

Bucky sits back and watches you intently, fascinated by your every move. He instructs you to close your eyes and listen to his voice, instructing you to go slow at first, “does that feel good?” the only reply he gets is a fast nod, “yeah? Make yourself feel good...that’s it,” his words only encourage your fingers to soon work faster, “let me hear how good it feels,” he demands, and you moan and whine like the true pornstar you are, your circular motions speed up, the lewd noises egg him on and soon enough he wants a taste.

“Let me help you out,” and you feel the bed shift a bit, “spread those wet lips for me,” he requests. You use both hands to invite him into your wet, glistening hole. You pick your head up to see his face buried between your thighs, you watch just long enough until each broad lick up and down your pussy sends you close to the edge.

He no longer needs the support of your hands, and they find purchase in his dark, fluffy hair as he starts sucking on your clit and tonguing your folds. At first, you’re doing a good job keeping your legs apart to accommodate him, but it gets harder and harder for them to not clamp around his head, with every nudge the tip of his nose makes at your clit and it doesn’t help your case when he inserts a finger inside you. With a good curl, his finger scratches dangerously close to your sweet spot, causing your legs to start quivering.

The sudden hitch in your breathing catches his attention, and Bucky tests the waters more by digging in deeper and curling in further. He notices the increasing agitation and knows he’s found the trigger.

“Bucky,” you whine, hoping he doesn’t push you over just yet. You want to last longer, and so you reluctantly attempt to scoot back further away, but the sudden strong grip  he has around your leg locks you in place. You pick your head back up and find Bucky’s eyes trained on you. You see the stoic look in his eyes laced with determination. Oh no, he wanted you to come now. You feel a hum from his full mouth, only pushing you further.  

“Don’t hold back,” he says against your pussy, “let go,” and the gruff in his voice, vibrating against you, his thick digits still curled deep inside you, you can’t hold back the floodgates from bursting any longer.

He laps up your arousal as you desperately try to regain composure. He really pulled one out of you, proving he was as every bit good as he put out and you’re not even close to the end of this scene.  

“Come here,” he says, getting back on his knees and pulling you up by your arms so you’re in an up-right sitting position once again, but with Bucky still towering over you, “open up.”

You comply and open your mouth wide, tongue out, not understanding his motive, and you’re met with full surprise when he spits in your mouth, a firm grip on your face, he holds you still.

“Don’t swallow,” he gravely warns. You feel and probably look stupid not knowing what he wants you to do with your mouth open wide and full of his spit mingling with your arousal, just trying to keep it all contained. Bucky was testing your patience and obedience and you passed every test so far. You were just the right amount of submissive, absolutely perfect.

You can feel his hard cock pressing up against your sensitive pussy, it slides up between your folds and the base rests on top of your mound. “Drool it out...on my cock,” he instructs. Oh. He guides your gaze down between your bodies, you purse your lips, and both watch as the liquid cascades down onto his erect member. He uses it to lube himself up before he pushes you down to lie flat on your back.

Bucky slowly but easily slips inside your wet channel but notices your slight struggle. He was big, and he gets it. The way your eyes are tightly shut, hands pulling at the sheets, you struggle to breath and your walls cruelly grip him tight. Normally, he’d just pound away until his partner got used to him, but he didn’t want to do that with you. He wanted you to enjoy feeling him.

He tries to help you relax by rubbing your thighs a little with soothing motions, when they fall limp on either side, he leans down, you feel the cool metal of his dog tags against your heated skin, his weight sort of comforting on yours, and arms entrapping your head. He lovingly calls out your name, and your eyes flutter open, your attention refocusing on him.

“We’ll go at your pace, alright?” he assures you. You curse yourself for allowing your heart to swell at his concern, but you nod giving him permission to move slowly. Your whimpers soon transition into pleasurable moans, the more your body begins to adjust to his.

“Damn, you’re so tight. You’ve never been stretched out like this by anyone before have you?” he dares ask, once he sees it’s a safe playing field once more, his hips moving slow, his cock sliding in and out of you. You attempt at a laugh between your ragged breathing and the intense sensation coursing through you.

“No,” you respond and kiss at his chin, the light stubble pricking your soft lips, “you’re so big.” You feel his cock twitch inside and you want to curse yourself again at the comment that unintentionally riles him up because he was nestled close to your spot again. Fuck, he could reach just the right depth in you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you don’t want to go slow anymore. Fuck Wanda and this movie, you wanted all of Bucky now, “please fuck me,” you resort to begging. He inwardly growls and his hips start snapping forward, thrusts growing hard and uncalculated. You just lie there and allow him to use your pussy for his pleasure.

Bucky’s movements falter a bit in this position, so he steers both your bodies on their sides, still facing each other, he slings your leg high up over his hips, and resumes his task. His cock glides right back in your pussy and the new angle causes you to yelp and walls to clench around him.

“You feel so good,” his voice riddled with so much lust as he brings your body closer to his with a hand behind, full of your plushest asset. Your head rests on the bicep of his other arm that was underneath it.

Bucky’s expressive eyes ask you if you're close, and the more your walls continue to grip him, he starts begging for you to come with him. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, giving up and letting you take the rest of the lead.

“Yeah?” you huff out, your fingers digging into the side of his hips, “you want to cum inside me?” You know he does; you can feel and see it written all over him, but you want to just poke at him like he had with you, “I want you to...I want all your cum inside me, Bucky,” and you wanted him to cum hard, deep inside, “fill my tight pussy up, please,” you plead.

With one more jab of his hips, your back arches and head is thrown back, you can’t help but let out a scream as your orgasm rips right through you like it’s never before. Bucky’s body on the other hand caves into yours, feeling almost paralyzed as your tight walls hold him in place and all he can do is bury his face into the sweaty skin of your neck.

His mouth hangs open, a plethora of profanities coming out of him, and he waits for his cock to finish spewing ropes of his hot, thick cum into you. Your walls can’t help but to involuntarily contract in small aftershocks, especially when he’s still coming.

Bucky continues to moan as he does as you hoped, he came hard and deep inside you. When you’ve both finally come down from the high, it’s silent, and even though you’d both long forgotten you were on a set with multiple people watching you two, they were also quiet, completely taken back by the performance.

Incoherent cries come out of each of you, when Bucky agonizingly pulls his cock out. For the most part you’re able to keep him inside, but he’d proven to come so much some of it seeps out and runs down in streak fashion along your thigh, staining the bed sheets.

In your last act, as your gazes meet each other again, your fingers dip inside your soaked cunt and coat them. Hypnotized by you, Bucky watches as you greedily suck off his essence from your digits, and you evoke a small hum in his favor at the taste bursting in your mouth.  

Bucky bites at his bottom lip, trying to not lose it again. When your hand disappears, he tenderly wipes the matted hair away from your face, smoothing your hair back before pulling your body close again, swooping your lips for a deep kiss.

“Shit, you’re good,” he admits, when he pulls away, effectively breaking the blissful silence. You bust out in a fit of giggles beside him and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but it’s not something you’re supposed to feel towards your co-star, especially in the porn industry.    

He smiles at you, basking in your afterglow and all he knows is that he wants to feel this high with you over and over, so he decides to risk it all, “I hope this doesn’t ruin the moment, but can I take you out some time?”

You try your best to read him, wondering if he was just still in the heat of the moment. Either he’s really good or he’s being sincere, you can’t tell and you’re hoping you’re not overthinking it, but his eyes, this whole time, were what gave him away. He performed with them and he definitely spoke through them.

Before you could accept and give him a definite answer, you’re both brought back to reality, “we’re still rolling here!” Wanda reminds.

A/N: Thank the pain meds for this. I think I effectively used up my vacation days the right way, won’t you agree? Likes, reblogs and comments/emojis are appreciated! 

[teddy06writes]

Locked Away

Requested by this anon: “Heyo! Can I please request an Awesamdude x Fem!Reader in which the reader is an inmate at Sam’s prison? Not Stockholm syndrome or anything because the reader already had a crush on Sam before being put in there. Thanks!” 

And also this one: “ please i will cry if i don’t get more awesamdude content. i’ve scrolled to the very end of his every hashtag.” 

Awesamdude x fem!reader

trigger warnings: some swearing, yelling, manipulation (dream’s the reason your in prison), character death

premise: In game AU; or the past three months you’d been under Dream’s control, only half aware of what was going on, the last thing you can remember from before was talking to Sam almost telling him your feelings, but now, as you are suddenly yanked from his control you find yourself being thrown in prison, now under his watchful eye

{oh there is no fluff here fellas} 

“blep” talking

‘belp’ talking but its the green bitches voice in your head

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

You were drifting, drifting through your strange, foggy world, doing your best to forget about the way you could barley control your own body, just a puppet on strings, when yelling, not of the voice that you’d been hearing, but of someone else, cut through the  smog. 

-“It’s over!”-

-”none of this will ever be over”-

The voice, it was your own but it didn’t belong to you. 

-”Dream has Surrendered (y/n), we can’t allow you to continue on his work”-

Growing bored you begin to drift away again, barley seeing, or feeling the people dragging you away. 

Sometime later, you’d been drifting, and then were suddenly plummeting back down into your body, a strangled sound escaping your throat as you regained control of your own body. 

“What the fuck?” A loud voice asked. 

You jerked your head up, turning to see that it was Sapnap who had been restraining you as you shuffled along, weakly asking, “Wha-? Sapnap- what’re you? Wh- what?” 

You looked around frantically at the smooth Blackstone walls, and down the hallway to where Bad and Sam are moving through unlocking a series of locks, “Where? Wha- Where I am I? Wh- wh- wh- what’s going on?” 

“Yeah nice try,” Sapnap scoffed, “I’m not letting you go because of fake amnesia.” 

“No- it- I-” Panic was rising in your chest as Sam and Bad finished with the locks and pulled open a door to what looked like a cell. 

“You think we shackle her like we did with him?” Sapnap asked, all but dragging you forward. 

Bad was clearly about to nod when Sam stopped him, obviously conflicted as he searched your eyes, “No. She won’t need them.” 

“What is happening right now?” You asked desperately. 

Ignoring you Sapnap nodded, pulling your forward and pushing you into the cell, the barred door closing behind you, “Well, you don’t need me anymore, I’m gonna go talk to Dream.” 

“Be careful.” Bad advised and Sam began to relock the door. 

You slowly, shakily, pulled yourself to your feet, look through the bars at Sam and Bad, “What is going on?”

Bad frowned, almost glaring at you, “(y/n) this is what happens to people who do bad things. Siding with Dream is just about the worst thing you could have done.” 

“Side wit- side with Dream?” You blinked, rubbing at your temples as panicked tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, “I- I didn’t- I wouldn’t-” 

Bad simply turned away as Sam finished the locks, taking in a shaky breath, “We trusted you, you know?” 

“I- Sam- I didn’t- Sam I don’t know whats going on? Where am I? I didn’t- I didn’t side with Dream- I would never side with Dream.” You said desperately. 

“This is The Prison (y/n), entirely unescapable, made for people li- like you,” His voice wavered, and quickly he turned, “There's no getting out.” 

You cried yourself to sleep that night, small sobs echoing through the empty halls of the prison; in his office Sam felt each new sob in his chest; in his cell, with each new sob Dream’s smile only grew larger.

~~

Sam sighed, blocking out Dream’s monologue as he slid the tray of food through the opened slot in the door. 

Dream’s cell had no bars, just a full steel door, and a tiny window in the ceiling, yet the man seemed to enjoy it, far to much. 

“You know how funny it was to see (y/n) getting dragged in here?” Dream laughter shrilly. 

“You were in here, there was no way you could’ve seen anything.” Sam replied sharply. 

“Oh but I hear everything,” Dream laughed again, “Stupid bitch didn’t even know what was going on, god I didn’t think it’d be that easy to get in her dumbass head.” 

“Don’t call her that,” Sam hissed, slamming the slot shut and locking it, “I don’t want another word out of you until you’re giving me that fucking tray back.” 

Ten minutes later the hallway your cell was in was deadly silent other than Sam’s footsteps, “Food time.” 

He slid the tray into the slot of your door, and look picked your head up from leaning back on the wall to look at him, “You do realize something’s wrong here, right?” 

“I mean, you siding with Dream was certainly wrong.” Sam muttered. 

You sounded utterly broken and defeated as you moved to lay back on your cot, turning to face the wall, “I didn’t realize manipulation was a form of agreement.” 

Sam sighed, “Are you gonna eat this or not? I’m not suppose to leave till you do.” 

“Then I guess your going to have to sit here.” 

The first 15 minutes passed in silence, Sam resigning to sit on the floor outside your cell as the minutes ticked on, eventually asking, “You were saying you didn’t remember anything, what exactly do you remember?” 

“You.” The word was simple enough, “We were talking- you said you thought you could do something. Tried to walk me home but I said I’d be fine. Dream was waiting at my house.” 

Sam hummed, a slight anxiety rising in his chest, “What did I think I could do?” 

You sighed, studying the Blackstone wall, “You said ‘I think I might be able to love you’ but with whatever I did there's no way it’s true anymore.” 

Sam stayed quiet, thinking back on that night nearly two months ago, plans for the building of that very prison were being finalized, he’d felt so on top of the world he’d admitted the feelings weighing him down, but then you had become strange, distant. 

“Why did you do it?” He asked eventually. 

“Do what?” 

“Y- you were helping Dream, with fighting New L’manburg, exiling Tommy, blowing up L’manburg again, you- you helped him round up the things that hold power.” 

You frozen, distant foggy memories flaring up in your mind, a thousand answers presenting themselves, ultimately deciding on, “Do you know what it feels like, to not be in control of your mind? To be stuck in the passengers seat as a madman takes to the road?”

He was silent as you continued, “To have your consciousness so nearly severed from your body that you can barley see or feel what’s going on? I didn’t have a chance to ask what was going on. He was just there, in my brain. Do you know what that’s like? I’d say you shouldn’t. Just take that food back and leave. Let me go back to dreaming of a future I missed out on.” 

~~

“How did it happen?” 

Another quiet question, another quiet silence interrupted. 

“It’s- foggy,” You admitted, more to the ceiling than to Sam, “But I think- I think it was like a switch got flipped. Could still be flipped. Then he’d be in control again.” 

A week had passed since you’d been locked away, and still Sam would sit, until you finished your food, or, more like, until you finally pushed the food away, still refusing to eat despite the pangs of hunger. 

“I- I didn’t kill anyone, did I?” You hazarded. 

“I don’t know,” He admitted, “Even if you did, that wasn’t you. Nothing you did then was you.” 

“Stop doing that.” You muttered, rolling over to face the wall yet again. 

“Doing what?” 

“Saying things you would’ve said before,” You said bitterly, “You can’t treat me like a monster one second and then like a lover the next. I may be a monster thanks to him but I do not think I deserve that.” 

“You’re not-” 

“A monster?” You cut him off, “That why I can still fucking hear him sometimes? Taunting me? Threatening to take over again?” 

Sam froze, looking back through the bars to your turned back, “You can here him?” 

Your hands began to shake, thinking about the barren whispers that filled your head at night, forcing yourself to sit up and turn back to him, plucking a small piece of bread from the tray, “Sometimes.” 

“How? His cell is on the other side of this place.” 

“He’s in my head, still hasn’t fully left, that is,” You sighed, biting off a small chunk of the bread before tossing it back on the tray and pushing it toward the door, “Thank you.” 

Reluctantly Sam took the tray, standing up and starting to trudge back down the hallway, “I won’t let him hurt you.” 

Soon, he journeyed back down to the level where Dream was being held. 

“I had a feel you’d be down here.” Sam could hear the smirk in Dream’s voice. 

“What did you do to her?” 

Dream chuckled, “I guess that depends on what you mean. Technically I didn’t do anything, that was all her.” 

“What did you do?” He repeated. 

“Nothing of consequence. For me at least. Honestly it was really quite easy to get in her head, didn’t even fight it,” Dream shifted, letting out a harsh laugh, “Part of me thinks it was like she was already that bad. Just as evil as me.” 

Sam crossed his arms, “No one could be as evil as you, least of all her.” 

“Of course you’d think so,” Dream laughed, “Course you’d think better of a monster.” 

~~

‘you think he’s ever going to forgive you?’ 

‘you’re a monster (y/n) nothing can change that.’ 

‘no matter how much you beg, no matter how much you try to get them to understand it was me, they will never let you out.’ 

His voice haunted you, keeping you up far into the night, words etching themselves into the walls of your mind. 

‘he will never forget what you did.’ 

‘you ruined people, you worked for me, and that makes you evil.’ 

‘Your a monster. And even if you weren’t one before, I’ll make sure you become one.’

“You don’t control me.” You muttered up into the darkness. 

‘oh (y/n) your so naïve.’ 

“Shut up.” You muttered more forcefully. 

‘you think I can’t control you from here? you are a fucking fool.’ 

Almost immediately a feeling of panic surged through you as something changed, the switch in your head being flipped once again, the last thing you could truly hear as he took over was two harsh words. 

‘you’re mine.’ 

~~

It was early in the morning when Sam had woken up to a panicked sounding Bad over the coms, “I don’t know what's happening!! It- it sounds like- like someone's trying to kill her!” 

Almost immediately Sam was up and sprinting down the corridor.

It took him all too long to reach your level, where Bad was frantically trying to undo the locks on your cell. 

“Get out of the way!” He yelled, pulling out the master key card as he heard the obvious sounds of someone being choked. 

It took yet a moment longer to get the cell door open, to find you one hand clamped around your own throat, the other desperately trying to pry it off. 

“Bad go get healing pots!” Sam yelled, immediately rushing forward to help you as Bad went running. 

It took him a moment to wrench your hand away from your neck, just long enough for you to cough twice, looking up at him in fear, “Sam, run.” 

His brow furrowed, looking down at you confused as your face seemed to shift, and then suddenly you were throwing him across the room.

Sam watched, dazed as you bolted out of the cell and down the hall, master key card in hand.

By the time he had dragged himself to his feet, and his vision had cleared itself of the spots that had drifted through there were several alarms going off, and distantly, he could hear people running.

“Bad! Ant! Give me an update, what’s happening?!” He yelled into the coms, already starting to run to where he suspected the noise was coming from.

“The key cards! She got the key cards! They’re headed for south sector!” Ant yelled back.

“I want someone back in the control room,” Sam ordered, “Turn the mining fatigue up, set the lava traps and get guards on the outer perimeter. We can’t let Dream escape.”

Sam continued to run, listening to chatter over the coms as to where you were headed, quickly gaining.

~~

“Freeze!” Sapnaps loud voice echoed through the corridor.

Dream turned from where you were toiling to break the wall to see Sapnap, Antfrost, BBH, and Sam all aprouching, crossbows drawn.

“Surrender now and we won’t take your last life.”

Dream merely laughed, looking his former friends in the eye, “You can’t stop me.”

“It’s four on two, seems like pretty good odds in our favor.” Sam hazarded, stepping forward and breaking the line.

Dream seemed to size him up, before glancing to you, “Kill them.”

The words were simple, and clear.

You stood, dropping your pickaxe and donning the armor nabbed while on the run.

“(Y/n), don’t-” Sam said cautiously, lowering his crossbow. 

Dream sneered at him, drawing the other sword taken from the armory as Sapnap drew his own, “(y/n), fight him, I can take care of the rest.” 

You nodded obediently holding up your sword before launching yourself towards Sam. 

Sam raised his shield, blocking your first thrust, and then the second, quickly trying to back away from you as Dream attacked his comrades, “(y/n) don’t do this!” 

His words fell upon deaf ears as you attacked again, this time grazing Sam’s arm with your blade. 

He yelped in pain, instinctively starting to swing back, though not heavily enough to hurt you. 

The sounds of fighting echoed through the corridor as you and Dream clashed with the guard, the men Dream attacked falling quickly until it was just you and Sam battling it out. 

You slashed again at his arm, this time penetrating deep into the exposed skin on his inner arm, using his pause and yell of pain as time to kick him back knocking the sword out of his hand and pinning him to the ground with your boot. 

Your sword poised at his throat you looked to Dream, waiting for confirmation. 

When the man nodded Sam desperately reached out to you, “(y/n), (y/n) please- don’t- plea-” 

~~

You’d been drifting again, thinking of the night before Dream had taken you. 

It had been late, you had stayed to long gazing at the sky, and Sam had found you sitting by the prime path. 

He’d sat down next to you, and for a while you talked about everything and nothing all at once, until you’d laughed, and in some sort of sleep drunk state, leaned in and tried to kiss him. 

Much to your surprise he had kissed back, giving you a murmured confession, the same one you heard now, yelled and frantic.

-”(y/n) please! I- I think- I love you- Don’t do this! Don’t-”-

The strings were cut, and you plummeted back into your own body in time to see a blade cutting into his neck. 

“S-Sam?” Your eyes traveled up the blade, to the hand clasped around the grip- your hand. 

“Sam!” You were desperate now, tossing the sword away with a clatter as fresh tears sprang in your eyes. 

Distantly you could hear Dream laughing as you leaned over Sam’s body, “Sam no! Sam- Sam- I told you to run- I told you to run! Why? Why didn’t you? Sam! Please! No!” 

The only thing you got in return was Dream’s wild laugh, and the blade being thrust into your back. 

[mint-yooxgi]

{6} - Obsession

Yandere AU - Part of the EXO Obsession Series

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: EXO OT9 X Reader (with a particular focus on X-EXO)

Words: 3,742

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: It's finally here! Yay! After months of waiting, I really hope you all enjoy the update as well as what I have planned for the rest of the series. So, since this is posted on a Friday, Friday's will be Obsession posting days, but every two weeks! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Previous ~ Next

“How did you-“

“Find you? Get in?” He cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “Tracking you was the easy part. All I had to do was follow your scent. Once I picked up on that, I found this quant abode here and waited to see if you would actually show up. Once you did, I knew I had you. You’re cautious, I’ll give you that, but I’m quicker.”

Your eyes narrow as he stands up from the chair. Who knows how long he’s known about this place, and if he can find it, then his original most certainly can, too. You need answers, and you’ll make sure he give them to you.

“How long?”

“About three days,” he hums, nonchalantly.

“Why wait until now to make your move?” You watch him carefully, analyzing every move he makes as he starts to pace the opposite side of your room slowly, each step deliberately dragged out.

The grip you have on the blade in your hand tightens.

“It’s the perfect time, is it not?” Suho quirks a brow in amusement. You’ve never seen him act like this before, an air of arrogance surrounding him as he takes another step. “We’ve successfully infiltrated the compound. The morale of the team is failing, and you’re upset about the ring. What better time to make my appearance than now when I can make the first move? Tell me, has my other self offered you solace yet?”

“You should know,” you retort, shoulders tense.

“I bet he was livid when he found out you didn’t trust him with something as important, as precious to you as that ring. I know I was,” he chuckles, halting his movements for the time being in favour of turning to face you head on. “Let me guess, he told you not to hesitate to call him for anything at all.”

Your breath hitches slightly at the way he says those words, exactly as Junmyeon had said them earlier that same day. A smirk dances on his features: he’s got you.

“If only my original wasn’t such a coward,” he tuts. “We could have been together by now, but no. He’s too concerned about appearances and whatnot.”

“He’s doing better than you,” you counter, and he quirks a brow, clearly amused by your pointed tone.

“Don’t lie to yourself, love,” in an instant, he has you pinned to the wall, hand gripping your one wrist firmly enough to have you dropping your grip on the blade you’re holding. The blade falls to the floor with a small clatter. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel his breath ghost your ear, his voice low as he says, “I could hear your heart racing in excitement all the way across the room.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” your voice is low in response, playing him at his own game as your own breath hits his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Now, get off of me before I make you.”

You’re surprised by his bold actions, but also, from the way he’s been acting, you’ve been expecting him to get in closer any minute. You’d prefer not to be in this position with him for much longer, but perhaps you can use it to your advantage. It’s not like you’re enjoying all of this back and forth.

However, to a pair of prying eyes looking in from the darkness of the foliage outside your window, this position you find yourself in appears in quite the contrast to how you really feel on the inside.

“I’d like to see you try,” you can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he drags his nose along the column of your neck, pushing his body even further into yours as he keeps you pinned against the wall. His free hand that had previously been holding onto your waist drifts lower, grabbing the underside of your one thigh and tugging it up so your leg comes to wrap around his waist. He’s only ever dreamed of being in this sort of position with you, and now that he is, he wants to savour the feeling for as long as he can.

“Suho,” your voice is nothing but a warning, and you can feel him tense against you, a sigh falling from his lips.

“Again, with that name,” he leans back slightly, just enough to be able to stare into your eyes properly. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name, love.”

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want to until you get off of me,” you retort, and though you can see the amusement shining in his eyes, he reluctantly lets you go, taking a few steps back to give you some space. Rubbing at your wrist which had been previously held in his grip, you eye him warily, but you play along. For now. “Thank you, Junmyeon.”

A smug smile tugs at his lips, “there, now, was that so hard?”

You stare at him for a moment, adjusting your stance until you feel the coolness of the metal from the blade against your foot. In the blink of an eye, you manage to drop your body in a roll, grabbing the blade, once more holding it in your hand. Your stare is cold as you remain crouched low to the ground, holding the blade in front of you firmly.

“What is it that you want?” You ask, hearing him let out another sigh at your behaviour.

“I thought I- we made that obvious,” he replies, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You.”

“Then why go to all this trouble to get me? Why not just take me now?”

“It’s like we’ve already said, we want you to come to us rather than us just taking you, but we will resort to those means if necessary.” He says.

“Even if that means hurting me?” This time, it’s your turn to quirk a brow.

“We wouldn��t ever dream of hurting you,” he replies with no hesitation. “The others, on the other hand, are fair game.”

“You of all people should know that hurting them would be like hurting me, no matter how you try and frame it,” you say. “Besides, what’s to stop me from plunging this dagger into my own heart right here, right now?”

“Ah, yes, your seemingly noble act of self-sacrifice,” he hums. “Go ahead, I won’t stop you this time. The others aren’t around to do anything about it either.”

“You seem confident I won’t do it,” flipping the dagger, you point the tip at your chest and you notice him falter slightly before righting himself once more. Seems he’s had a change of heart.

“You may talk big, but you and I both know that you don’t want to die,” Suho’s voice is level, confident in what he’s saying. “No matter how brave of a face you put on, I know the truth. The thought of death terrifies you.”

You grit your teeth, grip becoming so tight on the blade your hand starts to cramp. How he knows this fact is beyond you, and you’re shocked he’d even bring it up at all. Sure you may put on a tough facade for your team most of the time, but he’s right. Death has always terrified you, but your sense of duty has always overpowered that fear.

“Your silence speaks volumes, love,” he smirks, moving over to the patio doors attached to your room. His eyes catch a slight movement as he slides the door open, a gentle breeze drifting through the room as he turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder. “You have three days, and then we’re coming for you. You best be ready for when that time comes.”

Without another word, he’s disappeared, nothing but your open patio door serving as a reminder to what has just transpired in your room moments before.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you release the breath you had unwillingly been holding. The dagger in your hand falls to the floor once more as you relax your tense muscles. Everything has just gotten that much more complicated.

Clearing your mind in the next moment, you stand quickly, locking your patio doors and moving to set your alarm. The last thing you need is another unexpected visit from one of the other clones today.

Picking the blade back up, you keep it at your side as you walk through your house. Doing the only thing you can think of at this time to do, you call Kyungsoo.

Explaining the situation to him takes no more than two minutes, and you can hear him exhale loudly on the other end of the phone.

“You know what this means, right?” He asks, and you can hear some shuffling coming from his end.

“I am aware, yes,” you reply, running a hand over your face as you stare at your tired reflection in the hallway mirror. “I could use all the help I can get at this point.”

“We’ll be there in less than an hour,” is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead. Trust Kyungsoo to always be on top of things when stuff like this happens. Now, all that’s left to do is wait until they arrive.

Meanwhile, as soon as he ends the call with you, Kyungsoo lets out another sigh. You just can’t seem to catch a break.

“What’s wrong?” Yixing peeks his head over the monitors at Kyungsoo.

“Get Minseok, we’re leaving,” is the only reply he gets. “I’ll explain on the way.”

The two share a look, and it’s enough for Yixing to understand that this is about you. Something’s happened, and he knows it’s serious if Kyungsoo refuses to even divulge the topic while at the compound. Too many prying eyes, and ears for that matter.

Not even ten minutes later, the three of them are all packed into Kyungsoo’s car, heading straight to the highway in order to get to your place. Granted, they did have to dodge some questions from your strike team about where they’re going. Luckily, they managed to escape without too many suspicions raised. At least, that’s what they think.

“Is it just me, or are the techs all suspiciously acting real close to (Y/n) all of a sudden?” Baekhyun voices as the six of them go over their stations once more to make sure they didn’t miss filing anything that got stolen by the clones.

“Jun, Dae and I did sort of walk in on them talking about something in her office yesterday,” Sehun recalls, tapping the pen he’s holding on the bottom of his chin as he recalls the hushed whispers he had heard through the door. “It sounded important.”

“You guys don’t think something else has happened regarding our clones, has it?” Jongin furrows his brow in concern, sharing a look with each of his teammates.

“I don’t think they’re being completely honest with us,” Junmyeon adds, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Shouldn’t we give them the benefit of the doubt, though?” Chanyeol reasons, resting the clipboard he’s holding on his hip. “They are our teammates, I’m sure they’d tell us if it were important.”

“Baekhyun’s right,” Jongdae says, and all eyes turn to look at him. “Clearly there’s an air of distrust between us, especially now that the clones have infiltrated the compound and taken her ring.”

“What ring?” Jongin’s brow furrows even further in confusion. So far, he’s the only one who hasn’t received an explanation for it. “You mean the one she came in seething about today while we were in interrogation?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae confirms. “If Kyungsoo was the only other one beside me who knew about it, and Yixing and Minseok are practically uninvolved in this, I’d say they’re probably the people she trusts most right now.”

“This is ridiculous,” Baekhyun huffs.

“Like it or not, Jongdae’s right,” Junmyeon sighs.

“Wait, hold up,” Jongin interjects. “Will one of you please explain this ring to me?”

“It was her grandmother’s ring, given to her to give to the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with,” Sehun explains, a slight daze falling over his features as he recounts everything you told them. Once he’s done explaining, Jongin falls silent.

“Oh,” he breathes, the same thoughts coursing through his head as with the others when they first learnt of this ring. “Well, clearly we need to find the clones and get this ring back as soon as we can.”

“That’s the plan,” Chanyeol nods, only causing Baekhyun to frown with the growing tension now engulfing the room. Each of them want to be the one to get that ring back and destroy their clones first to prove to you that they are the one that is worthy to be yours.

“We need to work together, lest we want to fall apart,” Jongdae says, somewhat hesitantly.

A brief silence settles over the six of them, a few of them nodding their agreement. However, each pair of eyes holds wariness in them, not knowing if they can trust each other to the extent that they have in the past.

“Who’s going to give her the ring back when we find it?” Baekhyun asks, and it’s like someone has stolen all the air from the room as soon as the words leave his lips.

“I am,” both Jongdae and Junmyeon answer at the same time, immediately turning to glare at the other in response.

“I’m her second in command, it would make sense for me to return it to her in the end,” Junmyeon explains.

“And I was the one who got her into this mess with the ring in the first place, so it would make most sense if I’m the one to return it to her,” Jongdae counters.

“You just want to make yourself look like the hero in her eyes,” Junmyeon narrows his eyes at Jongdae, a silent warning to not challenge him right now.

“Like you’re any different,” Jongdae scoffs, standing up from his seated position on the bench. “You’re just hoping she’ll tell you to keep the ring once you present it back to her.”

“Now wait just a fucking minute-” this time, its Baekhyun who stands, a fire lit behind his eyes as the six of them begin to argue over who will get to present you your ring once they get it back.

With each passing minute, their voices grow louder. So much so, that their shouting can be heard all the way from outside the room, though half of it is incoherent. By the time another person enters the room, Chanyeol has Sehun pinned against the wall, sparks are dancing along Jongdae’s fingertips as Junmyeon takes a fighting stance, and Baekhyun is reaching for his switchblade to point at Jongin’s throat.

“Enough!” Dahyun’s voice booms across the room, successfully startling the six men out of their blind rage. “Now, I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you’re all acting like wild animals. No, even wild animals have more decency than you guys right now. There is a crisis going on here, the last thing we need is to be infighting with one another. Pull yourselves together! Go home and get some rest; take a breather and start fresh tomorrow. There are bigger things at play here than what meets the eye.”

At her words, they all straighten themselves out. Sehun, Chanyeol and Jongin hang their heads slightly in shame, while Baekhyun, Junmyeon, and Jongdae all scowl.

“Good,” she nods once she sees that they’ve all calmed down somewhat. “Oh, and by the way, you two,” she motions to Jongdae and Jongin, “are cleared. Now, I repeat, go home and get some rest. We all need it.”

Without another word, she exits the room, leaving the six of them in a tense silence.

As each of them pack up for the evening, all of their minds are on one thing. Proving themselves to you by making sure that they are the only one to get your ring back for you.

Meanwhile, back at your place, you’ve just finished letting Kyungsoo, Minseok, and Yixing in. Quickly locking your door once more, you turn to face the men now standing in your hallway, two with looks of awe on their faces as they take in your house.

“Damn, (Y/n), didn’t know you had a home away from home,” Minseok muses, quirking a brow at you playfully.

“Maybe we should ‘stay with Kyungsoo’ more often, too,” Yixing jokes, causing you to crack a tense smile.

“Surprise,” you chuckle humourlessly, motioning with your head for them to head to the living room so you can all talk.

“Have you-“

“Already triple checked for bugs and any possible changes to my security system,” you cut Kyungsoo off. “I found none, but you’re free to check while I fill these two in.”

A nod is all you receive from Kyungsoo as you make it to your living room and sit on the couch, motioning for both Yixing and Minseok to join you. It takes about ten minutes to fill the two of them in since they kept asking questions. That, and you kept having to explain how you have this house, and why Kyungsoo was the only one to know about it. By the time you’re done, Kyungsoo rejoins the three of you.

“The good news is I found nothing,” he confirms what you’ve already deduced, you nodding to him in thanks.

“That’s good,” Yixing says, turning back to look at you.

“Hang on, I’m still not done processing what you’ve just told me about Suho,” Minseok shakes his head in disbelief. “That bastard did what?”

“Pinned me against the wall and grabbed my thigh to wrap my leg around his waist,” you reply calmly.

Kyungsoo’s eyes flash, “you failed to mention the leg part in your explanation earlier.”

“Did I?” You huff. “My bad.”

“Well, it’s very clear that you’re no longer safe here,” Yixing says. “At least by yourself.”

“That much is for certain,” you huff, leaning back on the couch.

“You’re still safer here than with one of us at our place,” Minseok notes, hand coming up to hold his chin as he thinks.

“That’s true, but who’s to say Junmyeon won’t do the exact same thing his clone did?” Yixing observes.

“I think Junmyeon has a little more dignity than his clone,” Kyungsoo adds. “Or at least, a little more respect for his captain.”

“I’d say so,” you sigh, bringing your one hand up to rub at your eyes. “He said I have three days. That means we only have two and a half to find them before they come for me. If that at all.”

“Already working on it,” Kyungsoo replies, pulling out his laptop from his bag. “Though I haven’t found much since this morning.”

“What program are you using?” Minseok leans over, watching as Kyungsoo types away on his laptop.

The two of them start conversing back and forth, working out the best means to find the clones before something else happens. Yixing takes this time to move beside you on the couch, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft, expression showing nothing but concern for you.

“I will be,” you exhale a long breath.

“If those bastards so much as lay another finger on you…” he lets his threat linger in the air, eyes cold and unforgiving as they narrow at the wall.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Yixing,” you grin halfheartedly. “I’m sure it’ll all be okay.”

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

“Either way, you shouldn’t be left by yourself anymore,” Minseok pipes up from beside Kyungsoo. You weren’t even aware he had been listening in.

“I agree,” Kyungsoo nods, not taking his eyes off of his screen for a moment.

“We should come up with a schedule then,” Yixing nods.

“Well, the others still think I’m staying at Kyungsoo’s place, so we have to time it so in case they go over to his place, he’s there when he’s supposed to be,” you comment, and you see them nod in understanding.

“So, night shifts?” Minseok turns to look at Kyungsoo, who glances up briefly and then proceeds to nod once before going back to focussing on his laptop. “Cool, then Yixing and I can rotate mornings and afternoons.”

“Sounds good to me,” Yixing says with a faint smile.

“You guys really don’t need to be doing this for me, you know,” you tell them, and you’re taken aback at the intensity of their stares as they all whip their heads to look at you.

“Of course we do,” Minseok replies, standing up from his position to come sit on your opposite side. “Your safety is our number one priority.”

“Okay, but I need at least one afternoon off per week,” you joke and they smirk along with you.

“Whatever you need, we’ll provide for you,” Yixing assures you, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“Thanks guys,” you smile weakly, the stress of the whole situation weighing down on your shoulders even more so than before. Now, you can’t even be in your own home without worrying a clone will appear unannounced. “I really appreciate it.”

“Like we said,” Minseok pats your back reassuringly, “it’s no problem.”

The rest of the evening is spent finalizing the rotation schedule for the next three days. You’ve all agreed to take the next few days off just to be safe. Unless there’s an emergency, or something that one of them needs to grab, like equipment, none of you will be going into the compound for work.They’ll make sure nothing, no one can break into your house again. At least, not while they’re around.

The longer they spend with you, the better you feel. It’s nice to have the three of them there with you, not only for protection, but also for the company as well. If you were by yourself, you’d probably be extra paranoid right now. With good reason, too, for you have yet to notice that extra pair of eyes watching you, lurking just outside your house. Someone that your security system just can’t seem to pick up on.

[missblissy]

Glad you're back!! Miss you! I see about your post, can I have some modern AU maybe of Human! Alastor x reader going to an aquarium? Maybe a cute date? Haha thx amazing to have you again

(( QwQ/ It's good to be back! And I would be honored to do that. I had a lot of fun with this. I hope you enjoy!!))

It was hinted with salt filling the air. Misty and warm, the summer sea winds rolled off the coast and into your hair. The Long Island sound was picture perfect, just as you remember in your childhood dreams. You were staying in a quaint little town your familly use to visiting summer after summer when you were a child. And it was the perfect place for you to bring yourself on a long over due vacation. Work had been too much to handle this past year, and now you could spend the next week relaxing on the soft sandy coastal beaches of Long Island. 

However today you had plans to take the ferry across the sound to the aquarium. Sure... you were going by yourself but... So what. You didn’t particularly have many friends, nor a partner in your life. But so what? You were an introvert natrually and a social gathering over five people where never your thing. 

You had just made it to the ferry docks. As always, you were fifteen minutes early. You couldn’t bear to be late, especially since you considered “on-time” to be late. You were sitting on a public bench facing the sound. Dozens of other people have started to gather around the same place as you. You were just about to take one of your favorite books out of our bag when someone approached you.

“Do you mind if I sit?” You saw a man standing before you. He had a pleasant smile. A soft one that just barely met his eyes. You took one second too long to peer at him.

“Uh-...” You tore your gaze from his soft brown hair and to his polished shoes. They were out of style yet he somehow managed to pull it off, “Yea-.. I mean no...! Help yourself.” You tried to return his smile but you were far more awkward about it. This man had some strange sense of fashion. He looked oddly in place, however, he seemed like he was trying to live in a time long since past. 

“Are you waiting for the ferry too?” He asked, making simple conversation to fill the void of silence. 

You glanced at him quickly a second time and made a nervous little laugh. His dark complexion matched his brown eyes hidden behind perfectly circular glasses, “Oh... yes.” You remember you had your ticket in your hand, “It shouldn't be much longer until it arrives,” 

The stranger nodded his head slowly, “Have you ever been on a ferry before?” You nodded your head to his question, “Ah, first time for me. They don’t have ferries where I’m from.” He said with a cool expression.

He seemed chatty for a stranger. Most of the time when strangers tried talking to you, you’d brush them off. But this man was lucky that you thought he was rather... stunning in the looks department. That, and he seemed rather harmless as of right now. So you indulged in his conversation, “Where are you from?” You asked. 

The man paused only slightly then turned himself to face you. He held out his left hand for you to take. You were hesitant but you still reached out, “Alastor,” He said, “I’m from New Orleans. I’m guessing you’re a local?” You wouldn’t have ever guessed that, he didn’t have any kind of southern twang or drawl to his tone.

You shooked his hand but you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing a little at his question, “No, no,” You waved your hand a little, “Uh- aha... I’m (Y/N). And I’m not from here, but my family and I use to come here all the time for summer vacations.”

“Well, it’s certainly a lovely place to visit. I’m here for business though so I can’t say I’ve gotten the real experience of it all yet. Today was my day off, however, and I thought I’d go see this aquarium one of my friends keeps telling me to go to. She’s rather annoying about it, truly, spoiled even and quite the nagging little thing. But she is my friend after all and I’d rather not deal with the consequences of not listening to her.” 

There was a moment there went you felt your heart stop for a minute, “That’s... really ironic.” You said slowly.

“Oh? You have a bossy friend too?” He jested with a smile. 

You laughed for a second then shook your head, “No, I mean that it’s ironic that you’re going to the aquarium,” You paused for a second then reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. You showed Alastor and said, “I’m going too.” 

He peered at the e-ticket on your phone, the pushed his glasses up on his nose with a deep laugh, “What a small world!” He laughed, then laughed some more, “How truly ironic indeed!” Then without a second to waste, he faced you once again then asked, “Would you like to go together?”

The question startled you. You didn’t expect that. He was very bold, wasn’t he? You had only just met and he was asking to spend probably what would be the rest of the day with you. You were flustered suddenly, then you were tongue-tied, lastly, you cracked your voice as you answered, “S-Sure! Yea- um--....” You felt your cheeks turn a little pink, “Sorry. It’s just... That was unexpected.” Just as you said that the loud horn of the ferry screamed as it pulled into the docks. 

Alastor stood up while smiling down to you, “Life wouldn’t be life if what you expected happened all the time.” 

He then held out his hand, offering to help you up from the bench. You took a moment, sitting there and taking everything in for what it was. Alastor stood before you, looking as though he was some kind of mathematician, or professor, now that you got a good look at him. His red tie was tucked behind a brown sweater vest that stopped just shy of his belt. His hand was offered to you, while the wind dusted his brown hair around in the breeze. And that smile on his face, it was soft yet firm enough to show that he was pleased to help you up. 

So you decided then... why the hell not? He was right, life wouldn’t be the same if it was exactly like what you expected. You took Alastor’s hand and pulled yourself to your feet. The two of you chatted while boarding the ferry, and then stood beside each other while leaning along the guard rails of the top deck.

The both of you talked about all kinds of things. You found out that Alastor was some kind of internet personality, not really. He had a podcast he ran and owned with some friends of his. It was apparently very popular and well known, though not that well known because you’ve never heard of it before. And to say that didn’t hurt Alastor’s ego a little would have been a lie. Apparently, Alastor also had a strong taste for liquor, because at one point he went to the ferry’s indoor bar and came back with two rum on the rocks.

You told him it was only noon, to which he replied, “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” And laughed before taking a sip of his drink. You decided to have the one he got you and told yourself it’d only be one which Alastor stayed true to. He didn’t wander off for another drink once he finished the one he had. There was another point that you learned that Alastor had the habit of ignoring his phone, to the instance where he got annoyed with it and turned it off. It seemed he only wanted to focus on talking to you and listening to what you had to say.

Alastor and you talked the whole ferry ride, which was just under an hour long. And when you docked, you both walked side by side down the three and a half blocks to the aquarium. It wasn’t a massive place, but it was a good size with a decent amount of animals. You originally came here with the idea of looking for inspiration within sea life. For you were an author, after all, writing stories for a living came with its ups and downs. For instance, right now, your much-needed vacation wasn’t really a vacation. The current book you were working on took place in late century seaside town, much like this one. And you had run into the worse possible writer’s block you’ve ever been in. 

As you and Alastor had finished passing the entry gates and showing your tickets, you wondered why Alastor would want to come here with you. Maybe because he realized how terribly awkward it would be if you continued to cross paths all day. You also thought about how you wouldn't be able to focus on working with him around now. You also didn’t really want to out yourself, or your current story. 

But that would soon be unavoidable. You and Alastor had just made it to the open exhibits of the aquarium. You had stopped on an old wooden bridge to briefly look out at a beautiful koi pond. Alastor leaned over slightly while resting his arms on the bridge railing. He had a soft smile that was barely on his lips, “This one oddly reminds me of home,” He sighed. 

You learned along the railing as well, looking over the swampy like pond. It lily pads all over, with a dark green water filled with dead trees and moss. You couldn’t see them, but you could hear the bullfrogs chirping away. Seeing it gave your a sudden surge of inspiration. Something about it made you get several ideas for your book. You couldn’t let them slip away, so you reached into your bag and grabbed your notebook.

While you became lost in your own world, scribbling down idea after idea, Alastor quietly watched you. It wasn’t in a way that you noticed, because he’d only take a side glance here or there. But after a moment or so, he finally asked, “Forgot something to add to your grocery list?” 

It was meant to be a joke but it went right over your head (Mush to Alastor’s dismay).

“O-oh..” You then laughed weakly, “No... It’s for a story I’m working on.” 

Alastor turned to face you slightly while still leaning on the rail, “Oh, like an author?”

You took a dry swallow then glanced away and shrugged, “Yea,” You didn’t want to egg him on. But of course, he asked anyways. 

“Are you published?” He seemed genuinely interested. Yet there was a reason you wanted to avoid it. Oftentimes when you told people about your books, the general reception wasn't that good. There was a reason you wrote under a pen name. 

However, Alastor wasn’t from around here, and you weren’t on New York Time’s Best Selling List yet, and probably never would be. So there was a chance he wouldn’t know or ever heard of your books. 

So you took the chance and said, “Yeah. I’m the author of Sea Rise.”

“Oooh,” Shit. “That book series about the pirates?” Dammit. 

You felt your cheeks burn as you took in a deep breath and nodded your head, “You’ve heard of them?” You wouldn’t look at him though. You just kept your gaze on some turtle resting on a log. 

“Yeah, never read them,” He gave a slight chuckle, “But the girl I work with-”

“You said her name is Charlie, right?”

“Yes- Well, she reads ‘em. She’s a big fan. I’m under the assumption that it’s about fictional pirates?” 

You took in a small breath then sighed, “Pretty much. It’s... not that amazing or anything. It’s okay.” You noticed that Alastor pushed off the rail and started to walk again, but slower this time.

“Tell me about it.” His words surprised you enough to look at him with a shocked expression. He laughed at you while giving a small wave of his hand, “Only if you want to. I’m sure you can’t talk much about spoilers.”

You blinked, then let out a shaky laugh, “I-I don’t know. It’s... A long story. This is for my fourth installation.”

He hummed with a slight chuckle, “Well it’s a good thing there is a snack bar over there.” He pointed to one not that far away, “And plenty of places to sit too.” 

There was something that flickered around in your chest. You felt butterflies you always wrote about in your stories. You peered at Alastor finding it hard to stare at his face. You glanced up from his shoes and got caught in that tilt in his smirk. Heat ran to your cheeks and spread across your nose, you gave a sharp nod of your head then awkwardly stuttered out, “O-okay!” With maybe a little too much excitement. Who knew that today, of all days... You’d run into someone like him. 

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

It’s The Avengers (03x16)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 16: You Picked the Wrong Weakness

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: did someone just go and tell the otp about the otp?

Word Count: you know that feeling when you have had a bad experience on some project or assignment or homework before. And you know that thing is going to come around again next month or something like that. And you just age yourself by giving yourself anxiety by thinking everything that could go worse in that area. Yeah. So, I kinda shut that off for a few hours and wrote this.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The Interview Room The camera is recording empty seats as a pair of voices grow louder with every second. "...it's like they don't even care about what the other person wants!" "...no, why would they. These rich daddies and their rich egos think they are the only ones thinking about the world." The camera swivels a bit to watch Peter and Scott enter with a new guest following them with a Caprisun in their hand. Peter: And why did you have to go ahead and help them? Shuri: *sits between Scott and Peter* *takes a long sip of her 'sun* What. I'm not going to give up any opportunity that involves space and weird energy boxes. Peter: Why did your brother even agree to it?? Shuri: *shrugs* all your sugar daddy had to say was 'what if it was Shuri'. And my thicc-head of a brother lost it like a rhino in a mating challenge. Peter: *scrunches his nose at the example* Scott: Great *sigh* now we'll never get to see them together. With your brains, those dads are probably already in space now. Shuri: Not so fast! They don't have the codes to neutralise the pandora's box yet. Peter and Scott: *look at each other*  Shuri: So teleportation might be delayed as long as I am kept happy?  Peter: *takes out a notebook* Scott: *takes out his phone and a card labelled Avengers Black Card* The camera pans in on a smirking Shuri sipping on her Capri sun.

Inside a Spaceship: Destination Unknown You and Loki were captured by the little drone flying at the same speed as the spaceship (which clearly had seen some remodelling, thanks to your rainbow buddies). Both of you were staring at something in front of you that lids by your waist level- something the outside drone was not able to capture because of the limited view in the spaceship window. The expressions on your face were serious. So was the arms-crossed stance. "Are you sure it wasn't just a noise?" Loki now had a finger on his lips in deep thought as he heard your words. "I am pretty sure of what I heard," he acknowledged without missing a beat. "So-" your voice faded as your fingers twirled in the air with a mind of their own- "that means he has...another..." "You really can't say it?" Loki looked at you with a questioning brow going up quite smoothly. You tsked. "It's my baby," you mentioned while Javier's camera watched you point down at slumbering Lulu. "I cannot just casually say he might have another hole and I think he farted through it. I cannot hurt my baby's feelings!" Loki scoffed. "Your baby's sleeping." "He still has ears." "You think he understands what a fart means?" "What do you think I've been teaching him when you, me or Javi pass the gas?" Loki's casual demeanour suddenly changed to an offended one. "I beg your pardon?" You were quick on your feet, already walking towards the front of the ship. "So, where exactly are we heading now? Aellae's next of kin? Though I find it hard to imagine she would have left your essence with anyone other than herself." Loki came and sat next to you, still pissed at that comment in those narrowed eyes. "I am going to circle back to your words-" he inhaled while you acted all innocent- "and no. We are not looking for anyone related to that witch." "Then are we looking for another one of your exes?" "No, we are n-" Loki stopped short, his lips right in a thin line as he stared at you. "Why are you so interested my exes?" You simply shrugged and raised your brows. "On the contrary, it seems your exes are still pretty interested in you." That casual expression turned into a familiar judgment as your head turned to look at him. "Though I wonder what did they find so-" you hands moved haphazardly- "interesting about you." Loki swivelled his captain seat towards you, locking your legs between his while grounding your armrests with his hands. Clicking the control button on your armrest, he moved your chair a bit closer to him, his face in close proximity to yours. Javier's camera panned in on the gulp moving down your throat while your eyelids did a flutter at this uncalled movement. The 4K caught those goosebumps rising right where his arm barely grazed yours and in the background, Lulu played an arousing violin piece. "Something you can only dream about, darling," he whispered. The violin picked up the charge in the air within its quick clean high notes. The only noise leaving you was the escape of the air stuck in your throat, shivering on its way out. "Of c-" you cleared your throat. trying to sit back up in your seat- "of course I can only fantasize. The reality makes me want to puck. Ugh!"

Loki: Y/N thinks space is all fun and games. What she does not realise is that just like earth, this universe too has an underworld. Ten times in size and twenty times as brutal. And Aellae was just the tip of the filthy iceberg. *camera zooms in on his tensed features* looks into the distance* Wonder who else she told about her. *looks back* *blinks* I'm taking her somewhere we can lie low for now. *rolls eyes* that is if she understands what lying low means. *sighs* 

You: *eating bread like a peasant famished for days* Hm? What? No *shakes head* 'm nod nerbous. *takes another bite* debinidly nod becoz o doki. He wash jus playing wee me. *viciously bites into the bread* *growls and buries head in your lap* 

"I am still telling you to ask for their help. It's not too late," you suggested in a composed manner, sitting in the co-pilot seat. "I am not calling seven alien boys just because you have a fetish for Korean pop bands." You thwacked his leg with yours. "I do not! And don't you dare talk shit about k-pop." Loki chuckled. "Why? What are going to do?" "I won't. But you know what k-pop fans are like, don't you?" The smile on Loki's face suddenly started to flicker away as he looked at the camera. "Remember that Vegas trip?" Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself on his seat, while you shared a devilish smirk with the camera. "We're going somewhere safe. Where I have a chance of getting my powers back and hopefully a gateway back to earth." You sat up. "Why didn't we go there in the first place?" Loki blinked, not really answering. You and the camera noticed the tension in his jaw. "It's not a place I like to talk about." The asteroid belt cleared in front of the spaceship to show the part of a planet covered in grey clouds shadowing frozen blue mountains and dark valleys. "Jotunheim," you whispered to yourself, letting the gloomy yet majestic scenery of the place reflect in your eyes. “Loki,” all humour in your voice seemed to dilute as you looked back at home, “we don’t have to go there. We-uh...we could go to one of Peter’s hideouts? Or maybe we could call the Boys and ask them to direct us to one of their safe places? You know, till we find a lead on your essence.” A smirk built upon the God's lips. "Is that concern I hear in your voice?" Those worry-laden brows suddenly dispersed all emotion to make way for anger. A slap made way from your hand to his right side of the back. The thwack was loud enough to wake Lulu and force a sincere 'ow' from the God's throat. "This concern is for me and my babies you awful animal," you growled, your voice considerably higher, "you think they'll survive there?"

Jotunheim If the mountains seemed to carry an eerie aura about them, the valleys were a straight suggestion of being pits straight to hell. To add to the effects of arriving at the gates of hell, the snow falling was harsh, to say the least. As soon as the door to the ship opened to let all the passengers feel the heat, the drone travelling outside took in travellers covered in thick fur. Javier carried Lulu on his front, both of them visible just with their faces- not to mention the former's blue eyes standing out over everything else in his surroundings. Loki too embraced the thick skin, looking quite the part of a Jotun till he picked up the hood of your coat to put it over your head without saying much; only smiling when you looked like a fluffed up birb in that Viking overcoat.

Loki: *smiling sheepishly**looks at you standing next to him* Angry birb *looks back at Javier's camera* Sam taught me that one. *camera pans at you simmering under that fur*

Lulu had already picked the background music for his pack's entrance. The Viking beat had just the right amount of weight and horror of the unknown in it as this place did. Just ahead of the pass lay the structure carved in the mountain itself. It could be called a palace or a temple. But that was not what sought your attention.  Eyes. The camera caught eyes in the dark staring at the unwanted guests. Blue. Piercing. Murderous. And more than one pair. The drone panned in on that one subconscious movement of your fingers gripping the fur of the coat on Loki's back as the God walked gallantly- as if he owned the planet. But your eyes did not stop to observe the alien movement around you. "Remember-" Loki's whisper brought you out of the daze your own thumping heart was creating for you- "do not show them your fear. Show them that you are to be feared." It may have been his words or just his voice that started to melt the fear visible on your features, lasting for five seconds before a loud thump vibrated the land beneath your feet, making you all come to a stop. And when that was not enough, the audience saw the feet first, then the legs and then the whole length of a Jotun appearing before them. Some necks were really going to feel it tonight.

"Who dares enter the land of Jotunheim?" came the thundering and low growl from the Jotun that stood towering over you all. "The one who is alive and stands on this land," Loki announced, "with the blood of Laufey in my veins, I have come to claim what is mine." There was nothing but an uninviting smirk on the Jotun's face. "I am Loki, son of Laufey, son of Odin, ruler of Asgard and your King," he commanded with ice in his voice, "and you...need to bow...before your King." The dead silence proceeding his threat of a speech was enough for you nearly bury you inside your own overcoat. And when that did not seem enough, your body- on its own- moved a step closer to Loki's side. "Oooooh Gooood," you whispered with quite the shudder while your face was plastered with a no-fucks-given wave, "we're gonna die." On the contrary, the silence was followed by many Jotuns coming out of the shadows to surround your group one by one before bowing down. Even the ones who looked quite young did the same. All of them except for the one Jotun who had greeted you first. "Allir fagna konungi!" they chanted in unison. "All hail the king," Javier translated it for you. "Didn't know you were into Nords," you quipped, "the language, I mean." "Honey, I am all into Nords," he signed before looking around with a smile, finding a buff Jotun that caught his eye. He did not take another second to blink at him and leave that giant a bit confused and flustered at the same time.

Inside the Palace The throne was sculpted out of ice that seemed as old as the mountain. Alongside it had been made seating arrangements for the family, running parallel till the doors of the throne room, all greyish blue stones marked with Jotun carvings. You and Javier believed they might be names of dignitaries. Lulu thought they are just doodles by other babies and proceeded to contribute to the stone they were standing next to. A little female giant sat down and looked at Lulu's doodles with curious wide eyes. Loki stood rightfully in front of his throne, admiring it before turning to his subjects, most of them adults who were exceptionally taller and blue-er than him. The drone captured the magnificence of the throne room that had fire pits next to the seats at intervals right alongside the stone pillars and right in the middle, a few feet in front of the king. But none of them were lit. And the giants were visibly annoyed by the drone while the kids wanted to catch it and play with it. "An Asgardian announces himself as our King," the one giant growled as he stood at the steps of the throne, "why would we believe you to be our King, son of Odin." He nearly spat the last part. The drone captured that bit of concern breaking out on your composed features but Loki just smirked. Pulling his overcoat to the side- as magnificently as he believed himself to be- he sat down as if he has done it ever since he was born. The authority exuding from his presence certainly put the murmurs going around the hall to a standstill. "At ease, Helblindi," he stressed to the giant with a purr and directed the rest of the audience to take their place. "Not you." Everyone stopped short to looked at their king. And he was clearly looking at you. You pointed a finger at yourself in question. "Don't you know your place....pet?" he commanded ever so slyly, discreetly pointing his finger at the stone next to his throne.

You: *look around to make sure no one's looking at you* *anger about to explode through your eyes* *whispering* Pet?? PET?? I swear gonna just *gestures to grab the air* grab his throat and *punches the said air repeatedly in her palm*  *camera pans out to focus on three baby giants looking at you in pure horror before their mother carries them away murmuring something* *camera swivels to show Javier looking disappointed* Javier: *signs* she said 'stay away from the crazy human'. *sighs* *shakes his head*

“Come-“ Loki’s fingers gestured at you to come over to that stone couch of a thing next to him- “sit.” Taking a breath to compose your usual embers of rage at that comment, you smiled and walked up the stairs to stand next to him. The camera recorded the little gracious bow you gave the God but not before your back was to the spectators and you signalled an insult with your middle towards him, nearly making him chuckle. And with one heavy inhale, you sat down next to him, clearly not at the same level as him. “Is this what Lulu feels like?” “I would’ve made Lulu sit in my lap,” Loki acknowledged with a smirk. “You’re welcome to join me anytime but for now-“ he adjusted himself on his seat and raised his voice to address the court- “let us have a feast tonight and raise our mugs in union of the Jotun king and his subjects.” Helblindi scoffed and spat on the floor. Loki did not look but he was surely observing his every move. “In union of an excuse of a giant who does not even resemble-“ “I would like you to stop there my brother-“ Loki announced as he got up, letting the whole room take one united gasp at the scene- “before you start regretting your own words.” You blinked at the reactions to turn and look at Loki. Now the lights from the ceiling did a stupendous job of catching the widening of your eyes while your pupils were dilated in an emotion only known to you when you witnessed- for the first time in your life- Loki's skin change its shade and features. The flawless paleness gave way to a blue so deep over those arms he rarely displayed in public. The colour ran up his neck as well, covering him all the way. And along with this shade came ridges on his skin which apparently every Jotun had; running up his face and down his limbs. Those smaragdines and whites around them were now replaced with red. “This Jotun-“ his voice was low, but with enough weight that it echoed to the last corner of the room- “has seen enough lives to know what is hatred and what is fear. So next time you try to question my right, Helblindi, know that I have no qualms in exploiting them in a way which seems necessary for me.” Helbindi did not seem to stand his ground much now. Not after a few Jotuns who stood up to speak against the giant who had been torturing them for a while with his reckless and greed-ridden laws. Javier's camera was stuck on your reaction in the middle of this mild chaos. Your parted lips, wide eyes, stare lingering all over the God's body, your throat feeling the urge to swallow the dryness; it really was a sight, an emotion that many fanfiction artists would want to take inspiration from. Loki- who was smirking at the warm welcome he was receiving through the roar against his brother- turned around to look at you. His smirk disappeared and his usually focused gaze was interrupted with those unsure blinks at your features. Before he could explain himself, one giantess blocked his way to you with a bow. "We have prepared the Bath for you and your companions, your grace," she announced, still with her head held low. His gaze was running between you and her. To make it easier for him, you got up from your seat and walked down to the giantess who wanted to show you, Javier and Lulu to the Bath. "Nandi," Loki finally looked at the giantess. "Yes, your grace." "I need you to choose four of your most loyal companions to guard them." "They are all ready to escort your companions where you please." Loki smiled at Nandi. "I owe it to your mother to protect you, your Grace, like she protected me and my children." "My mother had a loyal friend in you," the God appreciated before walking down the throne and away from the crowd. The drone followed him.  The graceful composure of the God crumbled like a dry sand castle as soon as the doors closed behind him and he was alone in the icy corridors. His pace got faster by the second, his eyes searching everywhere. "This isn't fair, you know." Loki stopped at the echo of your voice. The pause of one breath, and he knew where to turn to find you standing in the shadows. Javier stood by the pillar next to you two with his camera, capturing this strange tick on Loki's features. You stepped out of the shadows, your gaze uninterrupted, looking right at those red eyes. "Do you know the amount of chaos it would create on earth if people knew that you look like..." "Like what? A monster?" Loki's voice was heavy. "Nah don't say i-dammit! Now I cannot stop imagining the term monsterfuckers." Loki blinked. His brows furrowed at you ever so slightly. "I mean-" you sighed with frustration- "was it not enough that you looked like a literal God in a human form that you had to now go and reveal that you are one buffed up alien? Look at you? You are one breath away from starting a cult of monsterfuckers! Do you realise that? Look at-" you grabbed that one barely naked blue arm and tried to squeeze it- "this firm, cold, arm that is people are going think about in-" you tried to breathe, your gaze still stuck on his shoulder- "their bed at night. God, why do have to be so-" you pointed at all of him with a frustration-filled, longing look of...disgust- "you." By now Loki was raising his brows in question and shifting his gaze between himself and you, clearly confused by your reaction. It even seemed he was a bit flustered at one point. You winced, looking at his body again. Your eyes followed the ridges on his face to his neck, plunging down his v neck t-shirt. With a frown you turned hastily, flinging your body involuntarily in the direction of the bath. "I bet they go all the way down," you whispered to yourself in between your sobs and walked away.

Loki: *still stands there* *blinks* *looks at the camera* what...*looks in her direction* *looks back* *does this two more times* what just happened?

The Resting Chambers: Next Day One of Javier's drones followed you from the balcony you were standing in to witness the first light of the nearest star in this frozen land. The snow-clad mountains were a majestic sight in their own stature. Even the smile emanating under the warmth of the star could not deny that. The giggles coming from inside the room broke the sweet hum of sync you were having with the weather, walking back in to find Skandi and Kolga, Nandi's daughters setting up the table with Jotunheim's specialities- snowberries, Kruweed- fresh seaweed from the frozen lake- and Lulu's favourite, spiked abalones. "What are you girls snickering about?" Lulu was already jumping on the table to sniff everything placed for his liking. Once he had inspected every single item, he went over to his bowl of abalones.

"Nothing," Skandi cooed, "just discussing how Loki-" Kolga elbowed her sister to correct herself- "how his Grace, keeps looking at you." Your hands paused for a fraction of a second near your mouth before the snowberry found its way in your mouth. "Look at me how?" "He looks at you as if you might vanish any second if he does not keep his eye on you," Kolga added, sitting down next to you. Her face had gentle tones all over it. Her eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she talked to you. "Are you being punished for something?" It took you some time to realise she was genuinely curious. "What. No. Why would you think that?" "Because his grace keeps you under guard. I thought pets were kept in cages in Midgard." Skandi turned to Kolga with a gasp. "He caged her last night then?!" The camera captured your furrowed brows sitting there confused in between the sisters. You opened your mouth to speak but lost to Kolga. "You mean when he told off Helbindi that she will be sleeping in his quarters." Skandi nodded vigorously. "He could not have kept her in a real cage." "Maybe he chained her to the bed." "Ah. So he could keep an eye on her at night." "Is that what happened, y/n?" You hid your face behind the mug of tea that did not seem to leave your lips while your free hand seemed to check your cheeks for their temperature. "This tea is good," your burned throat appreciated the drink. "He seems quite...what is the word... possessive of her," Skandi commented. You shared a look with the drone- your face devoid of any emotions. Kolga hummed in agreement, popping a snowberry in her mouth. "I thought Kruge would die last night by his hands." Now that seemed to catch your attention. "Kruge who?" "Helbindi's guard. The one who nearly pushed you into the wall last night." "When you went inside," Kolga continued, "his Grace took Kruge's staff and struck him in his limbs and threatened him to never touch you again if he wanted to stay alive." "Kruge should be glad he did not use his powers on him lest he would be a part of the dark pit's icicles by now." Kolga and Skandi stopped talked to watch you lost in deep thought while your hands scratched Lulu's back on their own, making the floof purr quite loud. "Is she making this little creature vibrate?" Skandi asked her sister in a whisper. "It looks like it," her sister whispered back in awe.

You: *whispering at Javier* What? No, it's okay. We can record here. No one can say anything. *sits on the stone seat in the gallery that seems empty to the camera* *adjusts hair* is it recording? Of course. It's always recording. *clears throat* *at normal tone* So, clearly...*inhales* *raises brows* things are barely standing still right now. And it is clearly not helping that Loki is having sudden urges to pick a fight with whoever bullies me. *Javier's drone catches him discreetly signing at you to lower your voice a bit* You: *irritated* I mean does he want me to get bullied more? Bullies are always going to pick on the weak one in the group for fuck's sake! And evidently, I am the weaker sex. *the camera catches a movement behind you, turning to focus on the source* You: and his highness does not seem to realise that it will be too easy for these giants to torture his weaknesses out of me. Does he not see that? *squints at Javier* what? The drone is recording Javier aggressively telling you to cut it out while looking pale as his gaze goes far behind you. You turn to look where his gaze is going. Javier's camera automatically focuses on Kruge standing next to the last pillar, throwing daggers in your direction through his bloody eyes for a moment before disappearing somewhere. You: *turn around with a shade lighter yourself* *the camera is panning over your face now as you look at it* *whispers* Fuck!

Five Minutes Later One of the drones buzzed against the ice that separated the balcony and the bedroom, tapping itself repeatedly on the transparent frost till the door to the room opened. It turned around to record you and Javier rush inside- the latter placing his camera in his bag and packing his stuff. "Okay, relax, relax!" you stressed to the hyperventilating boy. "We need to get out of here," he signed. "Javi, take three deep breaths? Yes? One? Two? Good. Three. Now think about it. As long as we are with Loki, no one will dare harm us. Okay? Not to mention he has allotted us our personal security team." Javier was on the verge of sobbing. "What about when Loki is not around. What will we do then?" "Javi, don't think like that," you nearly fumed at him. "Loki is in the throne room right now. You take the guards with you and go to him and when you find a window let him know what happened, okay?" Javier was still taking deep breaths while sweating through his fur coat. He nodded. "What about you?" "I...have Lulu." You pointed at the floof sleeping with his belly bared and his paws out. "I won't leave the room, don't worry." Once convinced you'll be fine, Javier hurried outside, leaving you in a silence only filled by light snores of your baby. The drone recorded you biting your lip and tying your hair up in a bun. "Okay," you whispered to yourself, "now we wait." It also recorded the sudden change in the shade of one section of the wall opposite to your back. With the focus still on you, the section of the wall appeared to open out, revealing the pitch blackness lit by a pair of red eyes. The next thing you knew, the drone was lying on the floor, its barely working lens recording your muffled screams and boots struggling to find the ground as a pair of blue feet walked past the lens before it went black.

One Hour Later The camera sat on the stone seat, recording the periodic tapping of Javier's foot from outside the frame. Loki still had audience. The Jotuns discussed every aspect of Jotunheim with the king. Loki sat patiently, listening to every word before advising them necessary steps. The majority was satisfied with the King's suggestions. Many were even in awe. There were a few who were dissatisfied no matter what the God mentioned. "Well-" Loki sat straight, addressing the whole court- "this concludes our day then." "Your grace," one giant bowed at the steps, "there are a few more issues that need your kind attention." Loki sighed, his hand resting on the armrest, his fingers running over his lips in thought. Not sure about Loki, but the camera recorded the patient that ran out of Javier. He got up from his seat, immediately catching the God's eye, who was quick to raise his fingers just for the boy to stop taking any further steps towards him.  "You have stalled me enough," the God acknowledged, catching the giant off guard. "Helbindi should know it better than anyone that a coup against me would be a futile attempt." Loki did not budge where he sat, just his finger drumming on the arm rest. "And I am in no mood for a mutiny."

.

The one drone who had been playing with the Jotun kids picked up the damage to a drone in the resting chambers. It buzzed through the halls, trying to pick up your trail, finding corridors and corners to fly through, walking down dark pathways with no windows and steep stairs spiraling deep into the mountains. On its way it found Lulu howling and meowing in a frantic daze, walking down the same path where he found your scent. And it seemed like he found you through the same dark pathway that ultimately reached an opening.  There was nothing but ice all around and in every form. A section of the mountain that opened to the outside with a catch. There were cells cut into this ice for prisoners. Shackles of cold metal rested in every cell. Each of them had metals bars to keep the captives in and an opening in the ice to keep any grain of warmth out. And to add to it all, this entire prison cell rested on a frost chunk hanging at the edge of the mountain. "Stop, please, you cannot do this!" Your voice and footsteps could be heard echoing through this section. The drone buzzed and landed on the wall to record the Kruge stripping you of your fur coat with a maniacal grin on his face. "Hey! HEY!! Give me back my coat!" Kruge stopped you from going for your coat by his hand coming for your throat. His grip made it hard for you to breathe as you struggled to get out of the hold, your nails trying their best to dig into that stubborn cold skin of his. Lulu ran and growled at the giant, scratching at his ankles till the latter kicked him away. "What do you want?" you barely managed to get out of your mouth. "We want Loki out of Jotunheim," he growled in your face, smacking your back in the ice wall behind you before letting go of your throat. You fell down with a thud and a groan, taking in as much air as your windpipe allowed. "Okay," you wheezed, "okay. You let me talk to Loki and I will convince him to leave Jotunheim. I promise. I pinky promise." You even raised your pinky. But Kruge was already closing the bars on you. Lulu ran and jumped through the bars to stop by your side, sniffing and crying, wanting to make sure you were okay. "No no no no," you crawled to the bars, trying to wrap your fingers around them but failing once your skin felt the vicious cold personally, "please don't do this. You have to stop. Now." "You said you know Loki's weakness," a voice boomed from the shadows where you had been dragged from. A very familiar and ominous voice. The drone turned to capture Helbindi stepping into the ice prison with a stature fit for kings. "His essence is lost. It is a secret no more, you quim." You looked at Lulu in confused defeat. "Why does it feel like he called me a whore?" you whispered. Lulu threw his own curses at the giant. "Listen, sir, Mr Helbindi," you began, "you want the throne, right? And I want to get out of here alive. How about I take Loki with me? You get back your kingly rights, I get my friends back and we go our separate ways. Everybody wins!" Helbindi came down on his knees in front of you. A smile rested on those cracked lips of his. His hand went past the bars- to your surprise- and landed on your cheeks. Your gaze kept shifting between his eyes and his hand while your body tried to move away from his hold. But he was one stubborn bastard. "He must have kept you alive for a reason." Helbindi was talking to himself now. His thumb rubbed against your skin, something that was visibly making you uncomfortable. "Ah...he keeps you to satisfy his nightly needs." You pushed yourself away from Helbindi, only to be forced into the bars by his hold around your skull; his chuckle resonating through the prison. "Do not worry my little whore," he whispered right in your ear while his icy breath ran over your skin, "you will be my pet soon. And unlike Loki-" he licked your cheek with his tongue, driving you mad with disgust- "I prefer violence even in my chambers." Your breaths were shallow. A single tear falling from your eyes as you did you best to maintain your features. "You are making a grave mistake," you whispered through your teeth. Lulu tried to claw at Helbindi too but Kruge was already kicking him away, earning a death stare from you. The giant struck his nail in your throat, driving it deep till there was blood. "The only mistake that was made was by you coming into my land. And you all will pay for it." Dropping you back into the snow, Helbindi got up and walked back into the darkness.

.

Loki watched the doors open to let Helbindi in, his gait ever so dominating as he walked past the judgmental eyes of every other giant in the court with his own little battalion following him, carrying weapons of all sorts. "A king with no powers has no right to sit on the throne, Laufeyson," Helbindi roared, ground his staff a few feet away from the stairs to the throne, creating a crack in the ground. "And a Jotun with Asgard in his blood has no right to stay alive in Jotunheim." Weapons were drawn at anyone who was not on Helbindi's side. Javier was already on his feet, running by Loki's side with his camera. Loki still had his mouth covered with his hand, as if in a tired trance. "Everybody out," he commanded ever so smoothly to his audience- who was hesitant at first, but left as soon as the God's eyes pierced through every last one of them. Left alone with his brother's radical followers, he sighed out loud, his fingers still drumming. Javier felt a buzz in his pocket, making him take out the little tablet he used to control his cameras. "Your actions with every passing moment make me more sure of your inability to rule over the subjects, brother mine," the God simply commented. The seriousness on Javier's face was turning into a field of fear. "Oh, I am not asking, brother mine," Helbindi snared at Loki, "I am taking what is mine." "And why would I give you anything you want." "Ask your little plaything," Helbindi smirked. The drumming of those pale fingers stopped. Silence eroded in the throne room. And slowly a shallow panting was audible from the God's side. The camera suddenly lost its balance and fell down on the armrest before toppling on the throne behind Loki, his back still in the frame. Light reflected through Javier's eyes, more precisely through his tears, as he moved the tablet towards Loki. "Stop, please, you cannot do this!" your voice echoed through the tablet, and all the lines on Loki's face disappeared. His body got up from the throne, his eyes still stuck on the device, looking at the aftermath of Helbindi's actions. There was no emotion on the God's face while he witnessed everything recorded on the drone. He did not even budge till the recording finished. Once the screen blacked out, he swerved the tablet for Javier to take back. His gaze was apparently still stuck on the black stones on the floor, his jaw threateningly sharp in whatever light coming from the nearest star. "If you want to see her alive again, go back to your ship before the star drops fro-," "You touched her." His voice was just a decibel higher than a whisper; his shoulders stiff. The silver bracelets were visible on his wrists, more so with the light reflecting from them. His pale fingers now turned into fists. "You hurt her."  Nothing but the resonating crack of a metal reverberated through the hall and everything went black.

.

The drone sat over the bars, recording the visible shivering breaths coming out of you while your skin turned pale, your fingers blue and your hairs were already collecting frost over them, despite moving your legs as close as you possibly could to your body. "P-plea-hease," your voice shuddered, "s-s-stop hi-im. T-there is-s-s st-i-ill time." "Your master is quite possibly begging on his knees by now," Kruge cackled, gulping down the mead and pouring more from the barrel next to him. Lulu was trying his best to keep your warm with his little body, wrapping himself around your neck while whimpering for you. Kruge was about to finish another mug when his ears caught a snicker that slowly turned into a weak laughter. The drone recorded you chuckling through the pain of the blight. "What is so comedic," Kruge snarled at you. "You thought I was telling you to stop for Loki's sake?" you laughed a little more, making the Jotun simmer with building rage. "I was telling you to stop your master before it's too late, you sewage rat's tick." The lens panned in on your features, all those helpless tears replaced by a smirk that could put the devil to shame. "You master thinks I am Loki's weakness." Your eyes glistened with a tint of some hidden darkness inside them in contrast to all the white around you. "Because I made him think that, you buffoon." "He is nothing without his essen-" "Count your peaceful breaths, you son of a bitch," you stressed, never batting your eyelids, "because you are not going to die an easy death today." You smiled turned into a chuckle before your eyes turned heavy and you fell down. The drone- in its last few minutes- went dark, but not before recording Lulu's cried, mewls, howls that slowly turned into a blood curdling roar echoing till the end.

[7-wonders]

Hardships Unnumbered

Summary: The quest to save Julia begins, but not everything is as it seems in this mystical land.

Word Count: 1969

A/N: Hi friends! This is the second chapter of my Labyrinth King!Michael AU fic, "It's Only Forever." I'll link the first chapter down below. I hope that you enjoy and, as always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

(also there's a couple of little easter eggs/one big one and I'm really excited to see who figures them out)

Chapter One

Though you put your hands out in front of you to brace yourself, it doesn’t help you to discern which way is up and which way is down until you finally stop rolling. With a groan, you shove yourself up to your feet. Your palms are scraped and slightly bleeding, your jeans are torn at the knees, and leaves and twigs now adorn your hair. All in all, this is not the way you had hoped to start this mission to get Julia back.

Now that you’re already at the bottom of the hill, it’s easier to decide how to start this jaunt through the Labyrinth. After all, you certainly can’t go back up, and the solid ground beneath your feet only leads one way. The shining spires of Michael's castle at the center of the maze, closer than you had thought, rise high above you and act as a compass. All factors considered, you can definitely run this in a couple of hours. Then, once you’re both safely out of here, your first order of business is to call the cops.

Your confidence begins to fade the longer that you walk along with the wall separating you from the inside of the maze. There’s no door, or arch, or opening anywhere to be seen. Turning around, you look back to see if you’ve missed the entrance. Instead of finding one, movement catches your eye. A man, tall and willowy, cries out victoriously at something trapped under his foot. He seems to be your best bet, and you decide to approach him.

“Excuse me?” you say.

The man startles, obviously not expecting to see anybody here. “Oh!” he cries in surprise, looking at you as if you’re the first person to ever cross his path. His hair is bleached to look almost white, and he has a pair of oddly-shaped sunglasses with purple lenses covering his eyes. The checkered jumpsuit, complete with ruffles on the shoulders, both does and doesn’t go with the sunglasses. You’re not quite sure why the people that live here dress so funny, but it’s making you feel underdressed.

“Which way do I go to get into the Labyrinth?”

“Now, why would I tell you that?”

“Because you must have come from there,” you pause, looking down at the man’s foot when you hear a squeaking, “oh! Is that a fairy?”

“Mhm.” Your childlike wonder is abruptly swept out from under you when he kicks the small, blue creature into the forest.

“Why did you do that? That wasn’t very nice!”

“Go ahead and pick one up,” the man says, “you’ll see how nice they are when you’re missing a finger.” As if to prove his point, a fairy flies up to you and hisses in your face, showing off two rows of razor sharp teeth. “What is it that you wanted, again?”

You huff. “To know which way to go to get into the Labyrinth.”

“Did you try asking it?”

“I’m sorry, what?” You roll your eyes in disbelief before mocking him. “‘Labyrinth, please let me in!’ Is that what I should say?”

He doesn’t have to respond, for a sudden rumbling has you turning around. To your shock, there’s suddenly an open space in the wall that hadn’t been there just a second ago.

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m Gallant.” You want to tell him that you weren’t guessing his name, you don’t even want to know his name, but he continues. “Who are you?”

“(Y/N).”

“Ah, that’s right.” So this is one of Michael’s ‘subjects?’ After all, if your dreams have been right (and you’re still half-convinced this is just the elaborate scheme of some unhinged weirdo and not magic, despite what you just saw), then that means that Michael is also the ruler of the Underworld. With that logic, Gallant must be some sort of a demon. If that’s the case, you certainly don’t want anything to do with him.

“Well,” you say awkwardly, “I’m going to go now. Running on limited time, and all that.”

“You’re just going to go in there? Alone?”

“Yep.”

“But--but the Labyrinth leads to the Labyrinth King!”

“That’s kind of the whole reason why I’m here.”

“You’re going to get hurt in there.” Gallant gasps. “You could even die in there!”

You set your shoulders, walking to the hole in the wall and glancing back. “I won’t, but thanks for the concern.”

“Wait!” Even if you did want to listen to what he had to say, you couldn’t, for the wall closes back up on itself the moment you step through it. Mildly jarred though you may be, there’s not much you can do to change this, so you turn around and try to figure out whether to go right or left. Both directions look exactly the same, so with the flip of a mental coin, you go right.

After both walking and jogging for what must have been over a mile, you’re no closer to any sort of landmark that would tell you where you are or how close you are to the castle. There haven’t even been any corners to turn past, just one long, unending aisle. You’re starting to feel a little claustrophobic as you finally come to a stop, needing to take a break for a minute. Sinking down against the wall into a sitting position, you find yourself looking back and forth down the path. Both directions look exactly the same, for as far as you can see. You groan dejectedly and put your head in your hands, allowing yourself a moment of pity before getting up and trying again.

“Hey there!”

You jump at the sudden Southern-sounding voice. “Who’s there?”

“Me, of course!”

Looking around, you see a small door just to your left, and a small woman, probably less than a foot tall, standing next to you. Her curly blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, showing off her pointy ears. “And you’re...talking to me?”

“There’s nobody else around, is there?” The woman glances inside the open door. “‘Cept the missus, of course.”

Another woman, also blonde, pokes her head outside and smiles up at you. “Hello!”

“Why don’t ya come inside for a while? ‘Delia makes a killer gumbo.”

“Uh...no thanks. I’m just taking a break for a moment before I find a way to the castle.”

The woman’s face turns severe, and she holds her shawl tighter around herself. “You must be awfully brave if you’re so determined to go up there.”

Brave? You wouldn’t call yourself brave. Stupid, maybe, for bowing to the whims of the guy who’s kidnapped your charge, but not brave.

“But anyways, just go through the wall across from us and you’ll be on your way.”

You look in front of you to see the solid wall. “Through there?”

She nods.

Logic is telling you that this is obviously false, but, considering the same thing happened with Gallant, it can’t hurt to try. Standing up, you cautiously put your hand up to the wall, expecting to meet, well, a wall. Instead, you almost fall through a doorway that leads to another passage in the Labyrinth. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“You will be if you keep going.”

You choose to ignore this, at this point knowing that everybody who lives here is terrified of their ruler. “Thanks for the help.”

The elf stares at your back as you walk through the new corridor, figure becoming smaller and smaller. “If she would have stuck around, I would have been able to get her on the right track back home, not towards that horrible man.”

From inside the house, a timer beeps. “Misty, supper’s ready!”

///

In the stone chamber of the King of the Underworld’s throne room, a three year old girl is currently winning a staring contest against a demon. Michael watches as the demon’s eyes begin to water (with blood, of course), before he eventually gives in and blinks. The little girl cheers before looking at Michael.

“My daddy’s gonna kick your butt, you know. He saved mama from aliens once.”

“Silence, child,” Michael commands, but he can’t help the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. It’s difficult to hide his amusement when this child is the most lively thing to grace his castle since...well, he can’t quite remember since when.

Being surrounded by demons of all shapes and sizes, with a variety of horns or extra eyes or tails, gets old after a while. Demons, quite frankly, are a bore. All they want to do is scare people and cause mayhem, yet continue to use the same methods that have been in place for thousands of years. If Michael’s being honest with himself, everything’s a bore to him here. In the early years, this job had been quite fun. Lots of naive humans to terrify and endless souls to torture.

Michael himself had been prone to naivety, then. It was easy to deal with the buffoons that called themselves demons when it seemed that, soon enough, he would find somebody to share this burden with him. After all, it was the guy upstairs who believed that emotions were for the humans. Michael, however, found it to be one of the most carnal pleasures. To love, and to be loved, seemed like the greatest sin. As the years passed, and the whole routine of ruling the Underworld became stale, Michael began to embrace the feelings of dejection, while simultaneously dreading the thought of an eternity alone.

That’s why, no matter the outcome of tonight, Michael would at least have something to add a little color to his black-and-white world. At the very least, the child would provide much-needed entertainment in the Underworld. She seems quite creative, which could potentially lend itself to some new and innovative torture methods. But, that would almost be a non-starter, considering the whole reason that she’s here, the whole reason Michael implemented this plan in the first place, is to get to you.

You, who managed to somehow win over demons disguised as beggars that loitered outside of the bookstore you worked for. You, who was constantly coming up with your own ideas for stories, creating and erasing entire worlds within your mind (a power far more powerful than any regular magic, Michael believes). You, who had somehow managed to vex and enchant him, without ever having spoken a word to him. He had seen you on one of his visits up Above, talking to a beggar demon as if they were your equal, offering food and shelter to their grotesque form. From then on, he knew that he had to have you, and from that, a plan was born. The Labyrinth, which he had subtly placed in every single one of your dreams for months now, was impossible to run through. You would inevitably lose. And when that happens, he’s prepared to accept your frantic offer where you exchange yourself for the child. He is, after all, a benevolent ruler.

“Mr. Michael?” Julia questions, breaking Michael out of his pondering.

Michael hums, deciding that he won’t lecture her on the importance of referring to rulers by their titles. “Yes, little one?”

“Do you have juice here? ‘M thirsty.”

“Abaddon!” Michael calls, the demon appearing in a puff of smoke. “Get our guest some refreshments.”

The demon turns to do Michael’s bidding, shocked when Julia grabs their clawed hand and skips along with them. “I really like your spiky horns,” she says.

Michael looks up at the clock on the wall, noting that only nine hours remain for you to reach the center of the Labyrinth and rescue the child. Perfect. He’s not one to get too cocky (yes he is), but these are odds he’s willing to take.

//

Tag List (send me a message if you want to be on this!): @sojournmichael @dark-mei-rose @blakescoven @xavierplympton @michaellangdon @trelaney @ajokeformur-ray @babyloutattoo89 @bloodcoatedeclipse @threeminutesoflife @annikathebananana @wth-trippy @thatonehumanbeing05 @dumybitch

[hobidreams]

october 1864.

but nothing gold can stay.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: angst words: 1.3k contains: historical au, descriptions of accidental parental death and blood, grief a/n: for ease, Yoongi’s father is referred to as King Min even though it’s not technically correct. 

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 11. start from the beginning?

They said it was an accident.

She had slipped reaching for a precious herb around the side of the cliff. It had been raining the night before so the stones had still been damp. Too damp to support the weight that had been placed a smidgen too far, a tad bit wrong and then mother was just… gone. They couldn't stop the bleeding in time. And even though you told her to be careful with a warm smile that morning, even though she said she would be back very soon with a pat of your head, none of that means anything anymore.

You stare at the empty, unused bedspread beside yours and feel the warm wetness slide down your numb cheeks. You barely register the tears. Not when they've become so commonplace.

It's been three days since they gave you the news; it's been three days since you've ventured outside this room. It hurts so much to stay here but you are afraid it might hurt more to leave. If not for the kind person leaving meals outside your door (you managed to make out a swish of green robes once; one of the eunuchs it seems), you surely would have starved. But even the heat of the rice porridge doesn't seem to spread through your body, your fingers stiff and cold from lack of use.

Mother would absolutely scold you if she saw you like this.

It was she who always insisted on being independent, regardless of the strict rules that society placed on your gender and your rank. She taught you how to make the best of the resources you had, but also never to take any opportunities for granted when they came by chance. She is the best person you will ever know, and you… you owe it to her to take care of yourself.

Borrowing her strength, you push up from the blankets. You've relied on the mystery benefactor enough. You can get yourself a cup of hot water, damn it. Wrapping your mother's coat around your hanbok, her scent hugging you in comfort, you pad down the halls towards the kitchen with your head bowed.

It's a bit of a walk down, but the air helps clear some of the fog in your mind, even if you know it'll soon return in the end. Having a goal helps move you forward. That's all you need right now. To just keep going.

"Jeonha has issued a full funeral procession for her?"

Your quiet steps hesitate just as you cross the closed door of one of the tea rooms. The words worm directly into your brain. The voice is vaguely familiar, one of King Min's concubines maybe? But there is no chance that they would be talking about...

"Yes, for a mere uinyeo! Who would have thought?" A second speaker, this one harsher, sharper. She punctuates with a laugh.

With a frown, you move closer. Pretend to inspect a piece of the building tile that has come loose.

"She did help deliver the crown prince all those years ago. That would buy her some favoritism."

"Hmph. That wouldn't warrant such a fuss as this. But... I did hear that jeonha picked her off the streets himself, and that's how she first entered the palace. Imagine that — a cheonmin coming to live here!"

"How vulgar."

"But that’s not all one of the maids told me. That cheonmin…” Her voice lowers so you barely catch it. “She gave birth not long after to her daughter."

Another low laugh. "You don't think it’s the king’s bast—"

You rip away from the door, desperate not to hear the end of that sentence.

You’re going to be ill. Violently so. Or burst into the room and do something you’ll heavily regret later. Your feet move so fast you nearly fall over as you back away from the room, clutching the jacket before turning. You run back the way you came, water forgotten, the fresh sting of tears in your eyes.

Is that what they have thought of your mother all this time? Twisting her hardships and the kindness of the king into something so dirty when they knew nothing of the truth. Speculating so wildly when it was your father had abandoned you both. The truth: mother had been near death when the king happened upon you. She used the resources he allowed her to teach herself literacy, and then proper medicine to repay him with a lifetime of pure, untainted loyalty.

You throw aside the door to your room with a furious slam. You’ve never wanted so badly to break something, anything as you scan the place. Your temper flares hotter when you think of all the times mother refused to come to bed and rest because she was too concerned about the concubines and women like them who came so frequently to her for help. She talked to them, hand-fed them, cared for them. She sacrificed so much and this is how they thank her—

You make a wild grab and your hands land on unfolded laundry.

The first smack of it on the floor feels good. No permanent damage but the exertion of grabbing and hurling towards the ground is a like welcome release.

You do it again, again, again, something so deeply satisfying about seeing everything precise rumple and come undone before you as a result of your own actions. Not anyone else’s. Not even the universe’s. You snatch up another handful and prepare to throw.

“You’re packing? You’re leaving?” It’s a sharp voice, bordering on frantic.

You whirl.

It’s the prince, holding a pastry box, his eyes blown uncharacteristically wide with surprise. If this were any other time, you’d probably laugh at his thinking this scene has any semblance of proper intention and order.

“No,” you snap. But then you consider it.

You… You could leave, couldn’t you?

After all, there’s nothing tying you here any longer. Being in the palace will only remind of you of life before she was ripped away. The memories of her smile and her love have yet to scab over and you’re so terrified that they’ll always be there as festering, chafing wounds. You could still serve and be loyal to your king from within the town walls. Maybe open that clinic mother often talked about as a wild dream. It’d be difficult, so difficult, but you could maybe run it yourself, with a few helping hands. Yes… Yes, you could!

The more you think about it, the more you want to do it. An escape from this suffocating place. The easy way out.

“Actually, yes,” you hear yourself saying. “Leaving.”

No one would miss you, a cheonmin’s daughter. The thought of those women and their poisonous words makes you scrunch your fist, only to find you’re still holding clothes. Your heart catches when you realize it’s mother’s blouse. Yours now, you suppose. Yours to take with you and never look back.

“Don’t.”

Your heart leaps as you jerk your gaze up.

“Don’t go.”

You shake your head. “The uinyeo will be fine. All of them are more experienced than me.”

“No, they won’t be.” He grits his teeth. “They need you.”

“Seja-jeonha, I—I don’t belong here.”

“Bullshit.” Always stubborn to the end. “Stay.”

“I can’t—”

“Please.”

The way he looks at you now… you’ve never seen it before. The wobbling of his lip. The irregularity of his breath. It’s like he is truly, completely uncertain. Almost to the point of fear. As if he knows that your paths won’t cross again if he lets you leave now.

“Stay,” he says again, and you think of mother. You think of how much she loved living here where it was safe. How much she loved helping the women even if some of them were undeserving of it in the end. You think of the queen, and the affectionate kindness she always extends to you without fail or question. Then you look at Yoongi. At that charcoal storm in his eyes, and you think maybe there’s more left here for you than you thought.

You draw in a deep, quiet breath.

“Okay.”

[vagrantblvrd]

Still thinking about Modern AU and just, like. That first time Luke meets Grogu, right?

Luke outside his apartment tinkering on his bike, it’s old, you know? Temperamental, too. Usually runs like a dream but there’s a dozen little things wrong with it he has to keep an eye on.

The whole thing where he was wandering, drifting was one hell of an adventure, not counting the people he ran into and the situations he found himself in. Just not knowing if the bike would hold up, or if it would quit on him miles from help.

(Which, it did, actually. A couple of times. Once during one hell of a rainstorm, him pushing the bike down a dark highway for miles and coming down with a cold that kept him off the road for almost a week in a quiet little mountain town, but anyway. Yeah.)

So the bike has...problems, but he’s fine with that, you know? Used to be his dad’s, something his mom gave him when he got his license and she knew he took after his dad with his love for speed and all that.

(Leia got their mom’s old car, sporty little convertible she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of, and she remembered what it was like to be their age, so.)

The bike had needed work then too. Left under a tarp in the garage for years and years, but he didn’t begrudge it then and he doesn’t now. Sentimental reasons and it gave him an outlet he’d needed at the time and hadn’t even realized.

With everything else their mom couldn’t afford for them to bring in to a shop and pay to have them fix it up, so Luke got a crappy part-time job to pay for parts and whatever else.

Read up on bike repair, talked to his friends who knew a little bit about it like Biggs and Wedge, which led to the whole...”biker gang” nonsense, but that’s a whole other story.

So yeah, the bike needs a little extra care from time to time and Luke doesn’t mind it. Likes tinkering even when it’s running smooth because it’s calming familiar.

Makes him think of summer nights and Leia sitting on a stool in the garage watching him work, mug of coffee and hair loose around her shoulders and the easy smile on her face he hadn’t seen since they were kids and the whole thing with their dad wasn’t an issue. Reminds him of the times his mom would come check on him when he got home from work, tired but satisfied after a long day, smile on her face like she was thinking about dad and it didn’t hurt.

(If it was a particularly good day, she’d stick around a little longer, offer up pieces, stories about dad and the way things used to be before...well, before.)

So he’s working on his bike, relaxing after a stressful day and all, and it actually takes him a while to realize he has an audience.

An audience of one, it turns out.

Tiny kid, big, dark eyes and something solemn about him as he watches Luke.

Sitting on the grass behind the sidewalk next to the complex. Wearing a hoodie that’s a couple sizes too big, or maybe it’s supposed to be that baggy, Luke’s no expert on kid fashion trends you know?

Messy hair and holding on to this shiny little ball - a paperweight or something - and Luke is just.

Baffled. Mystified.

There are families in the apartment complex, hard not to notice because kids tend to be loud, don’t know not to be most of the time. He’s seen them around the complex with their families, met a few because Leia says he’s just that kind of person, someone kids just go up to.

Must be the same with this kid, and Luke looks around for a parent, guardian, but can’t see aanyone nearby. Can’t hear someone calling for their kid either, and it’s concerning.

But.

There’s something familiar about the kid, and it take another moment or two befor it clicks.

It’s Din’s kid, Grogu.

(Luke’s seen the pictures and videos Din has on his phone, the sheepish smile Din gets when he shows Luke a new one because he seems to think it’s silly, having so many of them, but it’s really not. It’s great, actually. Amazing.)

They haven’t met yet, Din worried about hurting Grogu if he got attached to Luke and things didn’t work out between them. Didn’t mind the way Grogu was always with Din’s friends if he went over to Din’s place for their not-dates because Luke got it, he did.

Din liked him, but Grogu was his world, first priority and he doesn’t blame him for that. Could never.

“Grogu, right?” Luke asks.

Grogu gives him this look, and Luke barely manages not to laugh because it’s. It’s such a Din look.

Like he doesn’t know what Luke’s up to, but whatever it is he doesn’t like it one damn bit.

No sign of Din yet, but he’s got to be close by.

Luke gets to his feet, convinces Grogu he’s pretty trustworthy and what say they go find his dad, huh?

(That gets a response, big, bright smile, like Din’s his whole world too, and Luke would be lying if he said it didn’t do things to his heart seeing something so pure, uncomplicated like that.)

Grogu lets Luke hold his hand as they go off looking for Din, Luke talking about whatever while Grogu offers his opinion on matters with little noises or squeeve of his hand in Luke’s and so forth.

It doesn’t take long for them to find Din, already on the search for his kid with Greef’s assistant trailing him, presumably still apologizing for losing sight of Grogu.

Luke almost, almost smiles at the comical look of surprise on Din’s face when he spots Luke walking towards them, Grogu’s hand in his, but it’s replaced so quickly with this heartbreaking one of naked relief and Luke’s heart does this funny little thing in his chest that hurts.

Grogo tears his hands out of Luke’s as he runs to Din who scoops him up and holds him close, and Luke looks away because it’s not for him, their little reunion, and happens to catch the eye of Greef’s assistant.

Nervous, anxious, like maybe Din lectured him about not losing his kid before this, and jerks his head to tell the poor guy he should leave while he can. Which he does, mouthing thanks to Luke as he flees.

Luke snorts, eyes turning back to Din and Grogu to see Din looking back at him, expression on his face Luke couldn’t begin to identify.

Grogu’s tugging at Din’s shirt, has him looking down at him with this soft expression and Luke’s heart goes all squishy on him. GGrogu says something to Din that Luke can’t make out, it’s so quiet. Little hand gestures towards Luke and soft voice and what Luke thinks might be a smile from what he can see of Grogu’s face from where he is, and Din relaxes, smiles, even.

Luke crosses the distance between them, stands next to Din and lets their shoulders brush, offering comfort, reassurance.

The three of them go back to Din and Grogu’s place, Din needing the familiarity and Luke leaves them in the living room while Din settles.

It’s lunchtime or close enough and he knows Din well enough to know he doesn’t take care of himself nearly enough, probably skipped breakfast again and decides lunch is a good idea.

Doesn’t think about how well he knows his way around Din’s kitchen as he bustles about, keeps an ear out for the sound of Din’s voice from the other room, little pauses where Grogu must respond in some way and smiles to himself as he works.

Just as he’s plating everything up Din comes into the kitchen, leans against the wall to watch Luke with one of those smiles he can’t quite figure out.

“He wants to go for a ride on your bike,” he says, not at all what Luke was expecting, and catches him by surpirse.

Luke, wearing one of the joke aprons Cara or one of Din’s other friends got him eyes Din.

Has no objections to taking Grogu out with him sometime, but thinks maybe Din isn’t quite ready for that.

(Din has opinions, okay, about motorcycles in general and idiots like Luke even though he knows Luke’s a good driver.)

“Sure,” he says with a little shrug. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

Luke tilts his head, the way he does sometimes, and Luke lets him think it over in his own time. (Doesn’t offer to take Din out for a drive first, much as he’d love to, because now isn’t the time.)

After a moment Din goes over to him, crowds him against the counter and lowers his head to bump his forehead against Luke’s in a gesture of affection Luke’s learned means so much.

Doesn’t move away for a long time, still tense with worry over Grogu going missing, and Luke reaches up, wraps a hand around the back of his neck and squeezes gentle.

They stay like that for a while, no idea how long, until they hear the soft scuff of feet and Din breaks away to see Grogu peering around the doorway at them.

He’s hungry of course, and wondering what’s keeping them and Luke can’t stop laughing because the look on his little face is all Din, deeply unimpressed with them and their everything.

Din sighs, looking skyward and shaking his head, but there’s a helpless little smile on his face and in a moment he’s laughing too, because what else can he do?

But yes. That’s how Luke meet Grogu.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Teddy Bear Anon has purposed yet another interesting addition to the Immune AU which gives me plot ideas! In particular, a scene that would really help give past Dream a strong push into his character arc. 

I like to image that immune!Dream’s character arc starts with the death of immune!Puffy. Sure, maybe he’s not sad yet, but he feels something for the woman who declared herself his pseudo mother. It’s what helps to crack the shell enough for the rest of the immune gang to start weedling their way into his heart. Immune!Dream after spending enough time watching the group he, starts to realize that yeah, connections to other people isn’t a weakness. It really is a strength. It’s something that takes time for him to come to terms with because Techno seems like a testament to the fact connections are a weakness. He was unbeatable until his horse got kidnapped. His only connection, his only weakness. But then there’s Tommy who seems to represent the complete opposite. 

Where Dream represents strength from caring too little, Tommy represents strength from caring far too much. Now I’m a sucker for bamf Tommy, and I like to personally imagine that maybe the Immunes hold out for a year or two before they cave and try to make the portal. So Tommy has what really boils down to a two year training arc on top of already being a child veteran (I like to canonize SMP Earth as well because personal preference and it gives me even more room to make Tommy suffer. SMP Earth being canon? God, so much fucking trauma considering how the others treated him, a 15 year old child, like an adult.) Anyway Dream slowly realizes connections with one another are what kept the remaining Immunes alive, and he tries to force his younger self to understand that. Tries, but doesn’t really get far. Up until what everyone else calls The Fight.

Tommy’s always just kind of screwed around in fights as long as there’s only a threat to him. We know he has a tendency to throw if MCC is any indicator. But then they time travel and maybe they spend some time in the past trying to get the situation sorted and the past’s Dream maybe just kinda does something to Tubbo. Doesn’t even have to be big, it just needs to clock as a threat to Immune!Tommy who’s already lost his Tubbo and refuses to let his younger self go through that. So Tommy goes completely ape shit on the younger Dream. Sure, it’s only been two years for this Tommy. He’s probably, like, 18 or 19 at most. Still a child as far as a lot of people are concerned. He shouldn’t be stronger than Dream or Technoblade, and in the few cross group sparing sessions they’ve had he isn’t. He’s stronger than his younger self but no where near these two demi gods of combat. But then Dream suddenly registers as a threat to Tubbo in Immune!Tommy’s eyes and he makes the mistake of mocking Tommy while he’s at it. He knows that immune!Tommy lost his Tubbo and maybe the past Dream is lashing out slightly or trying to get some kind of foothold in Tommy’s psyche. He isn’t doing anything near what immune!Dream has done, but it’s enough to piss Tommy off. So immune!Tommy challenges Dream to a fight and Dream immediately realizes the mistake he’s made when Tommy starts to destroy him. 

Say even Techno’s there for some reason or another and he realizes what’s going down so he tries to calm Tommy down, joining the fight just as Dream is loosing it. The situation quickly turns into the first time Techno’s ever gotten his ass thoroughly kicked by Tommy, leaving everyone spectating baffled (Tommy’s younger self partly included). They’re certain this kid is going on some rampage and none of them can stop him but the moment Dream and Techno are both taken care of (wounded, not killed, the older Tommy is always careful about that. He even throws a splash healing on them with some indifferent kind of disgust that hides the fact he does still care to some extent even hurting as he is.) Tommy immediately just switches focus to outright doting on Tubbo, ignoring any muttered Clingyinnits in favor of ensuring Tubbo is fine. Tubbo is completely find and just as confused, but the point stands and neither Tommy ends up leaving Tubbo’s side for the rest of the day. The younger Tommy, after all, is the only one the older Tommy’s told the full story to regarding the future (even when he couldn’t trust his own family he was always able to trust himself with the secrets that mattered, so he prepares his younger self in case the worst comes to pass.)

The older Dream, immune!Dream, he doesn’t get involved. He sit on the side lines and just kinda laughs, the sound drowned out by Sapnap’s loud encouragements and Sam’s half hearted attempts to get Tommy to stop (he could have stopped Tommy immediately if he’d stepped in. Sam is after all the only person on earth Tommy listens to without hesitation, but Sam lets it happen and pretends he tried.) 

Immune!Dream just kinda smirks at his younger self later that night and mentions something about attachments really making you weak. After all, it’s not like the only time Tommy takes a battle seriously is when someone he cares about is in danger. It’s not like Tommy would turn the world into a seared ball for Tubbo, and Tubbo would do the same in return. It’s not like they’ve watched the people they care about temporarily rebuke the Crimson just to give the Immunes those precious extra seconds needed to survive in a fight. Attachments, they’re just a weakness.

The younger Dream doesn’t know how to respond to that. It’s the first time he thinks about his older self maybe being right.

Before I go I wanna leave you with two more ideas for the Immune AU

First up, Wilbur is eight years older than Tommy give or take. Wilbur had Fundy when he was around 16 and Tommy was around 8. Tommy was the best damn uncle he could be and for a while Tommy and Fundy were really stupidly close. They were both apart of the raised by Wilbur club and Wilbur was trying his damn best. Fundy aged/matured (physically and mentally) faster than a regular person for a while. They believed it was because he was a fox hybrid and Wilbur was ready to lose Fundy too soon. When Fundy was equivalent to 18 in human years though his aging process suddenly slowed to a crawl and his tail split into two, at which point the group realized he was actually a kitsune and it was just those first 8 years that passed by quickly (and Wilbur had a lot of questions for the now missing Sally who he’d thought was a salmon hybrid, genuinely, but became exceedingly less sure.) His family knows he’s a kitsune, but Fundy hid it from most of the rest of the server. A good thing considering later events. 

Fundy was part of the Immune group for a while and I like to imagine that he and Tommy had a falling out during the Pogtopia era but after the egg started to take over they started bonding again and acting like, well, family. Unfortunately when it came time for them to activate the portal, Fundy ended up getting separated from the group and getting caught. The eggpire didn’t actually know Fundy was fully immune or a kitsune so he just kinda pretended to get infected, using his illusions to make his fur look crimson. I personally like the idea that Fundy at some point managed to get back to the time machine and being a little code wizard manages to get the thing working and yeets himself in. He shows up a little late but after fixing his appearance manages to catch up with the rest of the group.

Fundy is underrated. Tommy being a good uncle is underrated. Sam would absolutely adopt the traumatized fox baby in Eret’s honor. What’s not to love?

The last concept I wanna bring up that I really like is hybrid Tommy. Tanuki would be good since it’s another reason for the Sam Nook bit. Maybe Sam specifically picked Sam Nook since Tom Nook was Tommy’s favorite character on the grounds he was the only representation Tommy had ever gotten and it made the kiddo happy. However, I also personally really like phoenix Tommy and it would make an interesting plot point. Tommy accidentally losing his third life at some point and realizing he’s an immortal creature of fire would have led to him taking a protector role for his new family. He can’t die, but he can burn anything around him, why not send him out to get supplies when the worst the eggpire could do would be capture him. Even then he just literally cannot hear the egg. Which could lead to both some interesting comedic moments and some really good angst if Sam agonizes over his desire to protect Tommy and let him be a child suddenly being at odds with the fact Tommy is literally the best person for the job so to speak. Not to mention Sapnap, who I headcanon as a Blaze hybrid, would be even more attached the moment he found a new fire proof friend to burn forests with him. Regardless of which hybrid type he is, I could see him hiding it from everyone except for Fundy when he was a child and only ever admitting it later to the other Immunes once they become a found family.

Personally I like the idea of Tommy being part tanuki hybrid and part phoenix hybrid, but is that too mary sue? Is it just a little bit too cheesy to have him be both? I will never not try to incorporate phoenix Tommy into my fics but also tanuki Tommy would be such a mood for this au.

Like image Tommy just builds a den that’s in reality a vault/panic room a la Techno and he hides it under Church Prime since that is The Safe Spot in Tommy’s mind.

~Snapdragon & Firefly

[philliamwrites]

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.2]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 6.7k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Chapter 02: The Herald of Dawn

Hold me, O Night, with motherly affection, While the wan earth wakes with a misty yawn. By my blood will be born the Dawn and from my fleeting dream—the undying sun!

[Gabriele D’Annunzio]

    Hushed whispers wake you from the dark. The crackling of fire sweeps away the last remains of weary unconsciousness, and you blink at a tent's ceiling. Someone draped heavy blankets over you, and with every breath you exhale, puffy white clouds rise up. The shadows of a fire dance across the walls, their blurry movements flush another wave of dizziness over you, and as you sit up, you notice a tight feeling around your head. When you raise a hand to your forehead, there is a bandage sitting tightly wrapped around your head, covering your right eye. The pain has finally stopped, but it still feels dully raw, like an injury that hasn’t healed properly and serves now as a reminder of anguish.

    The memories from the battle rush back to you, the sound of metal hitting metal and heavy bodies dropping to the ground echo in your mind. Death was nothing new to the soldiers and mercenaries, so how come you don’t feel particularly sorry for the fallen? You’re no soldier, at least that’s what every fibre of your body tells you, so normalising killing isn’t right. You rebuild your surety of that, one shaky brick at a time.

    Once on your feet, you make your way outside, drawn in by the smell of cooked meat and quiet chatter. The sight of a small camp greets you: more tents build a row on this side of the camp, and in the centre, solders sit around a small fire, their voices barely audible. They lean over a steaming kettle, their weapons at their feet or beside tree trunks—laid down for the night but still within reach.

    “Heey, you’re finally back with us!” Claude’s voice rings through the camp, and several heads turn in your direction. As he waves for you to join him, you duck your head and move quickly to his side, wishing you could just merge with the ground and disappear from everyone’s attention. “Little one, you got us worried there,” he says. On his knees, he’s balancing a steaming wooden bowl, and the sight and smell reminds you how hungry you are. Your stomach agrees by providing a low growl.

    “How long have I been out?” You barely recognise your own voice, the sound rough from exhaustion. Claude hums in thought and gestures with one hand to a soldier to bring you food, while his other pats the ground beside him for you to sit down. “We managed to march a couple of hours after cleaning up the mess from the battle. Right now we’re near the edge of the forest. There should be only one more day of marching until we reach the monastery.”

    “And you guys are sure they can help me up there?” you wonder, watching the first group of soldiers get ready for the night watch. They’re frighteningly young, jostling and bumping into each other, laughing and stamping their feet against the cold snap that still lingers, the last gasp of winter before spring begins in earnest.

    “If not there, I’m not sure there’s anyone out there who can help you.”

    You glare at Claude. “Surely you must be the voice of confidence in this merry bunch, right?”

    He laughs. “I’m the closest you’ll get to an optimist around here.”

    “That’s reassuring.”

    “Reassuring is my second name.”

    “No, you said it’s von,” you mumble. Claude stares at you for a long minute, then bursts out laughing, the sound dark and rich. “No, that’s a noble prefix. You don’t even remember that?”

    You open your mouth, and close it like a fish, feeling your cheeks raise in temperature. He shouldn’t make you feel guilty for forgetting something like that, and yet the shame settles in your bones and you want to smack your head against something to help your brain remember.

    “Ah, but pardon my rudeness,” Claude purrs and gives you a mock bow. “I can tell you everything you want to know about nobility and how overrated it is. In fact, I might as well convince you to join the Alliance before Their Highnesses steal you to their side.”

    “I’m not going to be on anyone’s side,” you mumble, and steal Claude’s blanket as payback, relishing in his offended expression. “It has nothing to do with me.”

    Claude raises an eyebrow. “Ehh, I’m not so sure it’s that easy.”

    “It is,” you insist, unable to hide the sulk from your voice. “Because I say so.”

    Claude raises both eyebrows. “That’s not how it works.”

    “Watch me.”

    Something like a shadow flashes across his emerald eyes, but it disappears quickly enough for you to think it’s only the light from the campfire playing a trick on you. “We’ll see about that.” He scrapes the remaining contents from his bowl and lets out a satisfying yawn when he’s finished, stretching his long limbs like a cat getting comfortable. “Sooo,” he starts, unnecessarily dragging out the vowel and the sound of it locks up your shoulders into one tense muscle in preparation of what he’s going to say next. “Care to explain what happened back there?”

    You take a deep breath. “You mean when it felt like my eye was going to fall out of its socket?”

    “Actually I meant when you tripped over that one root after we found you.” He gives you a crooked grin. “But that’s interesting too, please go on.”

    “I thought no one saw that,” you mumble, and avoid his gaze as you remember that stupid root that nearly broke your neck. Well, Claude surely knows a thing or two about tricking someone into talking about exactly what he wants to hear.

    You thank the mercenary that brings you food, and notice it’s the one from the battle with the crooked nose. He gives you a just as crooked grin and limps back to his comrades. The stew warms your chilled bones, the rich flavour of meat and vegetables lifting your spirits and filling you with energy. As you eat, you drag out the minutes but Claude doesn’t even squirm as you let him wait, and starts whistling an off-key tune until you start to feel uncomfortable.

    “Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t be afraid that it might happen again,” you admit begrudgingly. “Because that was scary.”

    “Yeah, it didn’t really look like fun,” Claude agrees. “But what was it in the first place?”

    “I don’t know.” You start to become weary of those words. “But it hurt.”

    Claude gives you a sympathetic look, and goes silent, allowing you to eat, but you can’t shake off the feeling his mind is still trying to figure out what’s the deal with you. He can, for all you care. And once he’s done, he can write a report and hand it right to you so you’ll understand as well.

    Out of the corner of your eye you notice someone moving towards you. Dimitri approaches you with caution like you’re a small animal he might scare off with hasty movements. But the look he gives Claude is that of a disappointed father, and he shakes his head once he’s standing in front of him. “Claude, we were supposed to not disturb our guest,” Dimitri says sternly, then bows his head in your direction. “Apologies. We should let you rest.”

    “No, it’s okay,” you admit, and shuffle a little to the side to make room. “Please stay.”

    Both boys exchange a quick look, but then Dimitri sits down, minding a polite distance unlike Claude who only needs to stretch his legs for his feet touch your knee.

    “We were worried,” Dimitri starts. Just like Claude, he’s taken off most of his armour, and nothing about him stands out as a member of the royalty. He looks just like any other boy, and you’d never admit it out loud, but you already miss the blue tones on his uniform, the colour making his remarkably ice-blue eye stand out even more. “Luckily we could dispose of all bandits and return to a safe area. Byleth carried you here all by herself.”

    “Yeah, remind me not get on her bad side, okay?” Claude laughs, but you think you hear a slight nervous tremble in his voice. “She looks like she can decapitate me with a butter knife.”

    “She doesn’t look like it. She very certainly will behead you with a butter knife,” Dimitri provides with a pleasant smile as if he’s talking about the weather.

    “See, and that’s why she fits best in the Alliance,” Claude says, winking at you. “We’re always full of surprises.”

    Dimitri rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his broad chest. “You might try it. I personally plan to convince her to join the Kingdom.”

    “I think you’re both too late for that,” you say as you look to the other side of the camp where Byleth and Edelgard are currently engaged in a deep conversation, their heads leaning close to each other. Claude groans miserably, but quickly recovers as he turns to you, his eyes brightening up with excitement. “It’s okay, because once my disarming charm has wrapped you around my little finger, I’ll have an impressive tactician on my side.”

    You almost choke on your next spoon of stew. “Tactician? I wouldn’t go that far.”

    Beside you, Dimitri clears his throat. “Though I have to question Claude’s way of persuasion, I must admit he isn’t wrong about the latter. What you did back there was impressive.”

    “I really didn’t do anything special,” you mumble at the same time Claude raises both hands leisurely and says, “Hey, it’s not my problem you think you’re immune to it, Your Princeliness.”

    Dimitri grumbles something in a foreign language under his breath. Grinning smugly, Claude turns to you, and nudges your side. “Have confidence, little one. They’ll teach you everything you need to know up there.” He points up towards a mountain where you’ll apparently be heading tomorrow. If you squint, you think you can make out lights in the horizon brightening the night sky.

    “That monastery,” you say, trying to ignore how Claude’s body radiates heat. “What exactly is that place? I’ve never heard of a monastery that holds a school. I think,” you quickly add, unsure what thoughts provided by your hazy mind are facts.

    “The Officers Academy is a facility where students learn the arts of warfare, magic, and leadership,” Dimitri explains. He’s very obviously trying not to look at Claude, which in return has Claude’s grin widening even more. “The lessons provide us with everything we need as upcoming heads of our families. Swordsmanship, sorcery, authority, the history of our continent. There is much to learn for everyone attending the classes.”

    “So it’s a death factory,” you translate, the sudden bitter taste in your mouth overshadowing the taste of the stew. “How can they just teach that stuff like it’s normal?”

    “You saw it yourself, didn’t you.” Claude stretches his long limbs and leans back until he props his body up on his elbows. “Bandits and thieves everywhere.”

    “And most students come from a noble house,” Dimitri adds. “They need to be taught how to take command, and about the responsibilities coming with leadership.”

    You blow a strand of hair away from your face, mood dropped now that you know where you’ll be from tomorrow on. “This doesn’t sound right.” Though you can’t really say how a school is supposed to be instead. This is a world with different rules, and you aren’t sure if it’ll be easy to accommodate to them.

    While the boys bicker how good the plot of the tale mentioned earlier really is, you see Byleth approaching. A bruise is forming on her left cheek, and she holds her arm as if bearing the pain from a wound. But nothing of that is portrayed on her face, as if her brain hasn’t registered she’s wounded yet and hence doesn’t need to express it.

    “How are you?” she asks, sending the boys a quick look. Dimitri and Claude climb to their feet and wish their good nights with a quick bow. They hurry to Edelgard and gang up on heir, probably interrogating her about the conversation she's had with Byleth.

    “I’m better,” you say, a little surprised you actually mean it. You feel refreshed and nourished, ready for another day of walking. Byleth sits down and watches the camp for a moment in silence. The chaos from before has settled into a quiet hum. Men and women sit together in little circles and tell their glorious battle stories with boisterous laughter, selling the illusion of a victorious life. But that might easily end the next day because of a hasty recklessness. No one thinks of that. Everyone is just celebrating, reaching for flasks and living in the moment. It’s a beautiful sight.

    As the buzzing sound of people chatting subsides and the first turn in for the night, Byleth turns towards you, her voice lowered. “What you did back there,” she starts, and for whatever reason remains silent as if she decided talking about it isn’t a good idea. Shadows from the weakened fire dance across her face, and again you’re flooded with the unfathomable feeling of familiarity. It’s in the sharp lines of her face, the way her eyes move and settle on something as she observes her surroundings. It’s almost a painful sense of nostalgia. Something about this woman just brings you an unusual amount of ease, like it doesn’t really matter who you are, and rather that you’re here that makes the difference.

    Before you can stop your brain, you’re already asking, “Do we know each other by chance?”

    Byleth looks at you for a long minute, then slowly shakes her head, and you try not to show your disappointment too much. “I’ve travelled a lot with my father,” she says. “We’ve come through many lands and villages. You may have seen me at some point, but we’ve never exchanged a word until yesterday.”

    You nod at the plausible explanation, but the feeling that this isn’t the right answer curls like a hook into your heart. “And your father hasn’t said anything about me as well?”

    “No.” Byleth’s eyes follow your hands as they set down the empty bowl. Seeing that you’ve finished everything, she nods in approval. “And he doesn’t forget a face.”

    “How do you all just … trust me,” you wonder, looking to where Jeralt is miserably leaning against a tree trunk as Alois keeps talking and talking. He looks like he wishes someone would take him down with an arrow.

    “He doesn’t,” Byleth says. “And he calls me a little whippersnapper for that. He hasn’t called me that in the five years.” At the sound of the smile in her voice you snap your head in Byleth’s direction, but when you look, she wears the same bland expression like before.

    “But you do,” you start carefully, not trusting your ears again, so you settle on staring at her until she gives another emotion. “Care to explain why?”

    “For now, you haven’t given me any reason not to,” she states as if it really were that simple. It couldn’t be. Up until now Byleth has been your only anchor that your meeting wasn’t purely coincidental—that the reason shrouding your memories would dissipate like the night once dawn breaks if you just stick to her side, and everything will be revealed in time. But now without anything to hold on to, you feel like you’re slipping deeper and deeper into an abyss from which you can’t ascend. This feeling is terror fizzing in your blood like poison, and you shudder at the thought that you’ll forever remain adrift.

    “Your powers,” Byleth continues, unaware of your mental breakdown right next to her. “They’re unusual, and if you learn to use them right, very dangerous.” Spoken by everyone else, this might sound like a threat, but Byleth says it like a simple statement, a fact, unaware how much she tilts your world with it. “What do you plan to do with them?”

    You don’t have to think long about it. “I won’t do anything. Whatever it was, it’s over,” you say and gesture at your bandaged eye. It’s true. Since you woke up, your eye has remained calm, no red veil or eery proclamation someone might step into the campfire and burn alive. The pounding has stopped, and the normalcy of it is like a soothing balm.

    Byleth studies you. You really wish she could give you more than her vacant expression. “You don’t know yet … your eye.” She takes your spoon and with the end of it, she draws a symbol on the ground. “Do you know what that is?”

    You look at it, but nothing comes to your mind. It’s just a four pointed star with two lines crossing the right and left tips. “No, I’ve never seen it.”

    Byleth holds your gaze as if she hopes to find a lie written between your eyes, and this time you don’t look away until she relents with a barely audible sigh.

    “Why do you ask?”

    “Because before you passed out, it appeared here.” She taps a finger against her closed, right eye, then points at you. Your body goes rigid. Immediately, your hands fly up to tear off the bandage, but Byleth catches your wrists and holds them down. “Not yet.”

    “I want to see it.” Your breath catches in your lungs. It sounds like you need air because you’re drowning. “I want it off. Take it off!”

    “I can’t show you, there are no mirrors,” Byleth says quietly, and throws a quick glance around the camp to see if your panic has alarmed anyone. You want to point out that you could use the reflection of her sword, but maybe Byleth has considered the same and thought it a bad idea, because she doesn’t know what else you might do with a weapon in your current state. Seeing that fighting against the vice grip she has on your hands is futile, you slump down, your arms falling slack back to your side. “Just what… what is happening. What is that?”

    “Edelgard said it might be a Crest, but none she or the others have seen before,” Byleth explains. “They told me there is a teacher at the monastery who studies Crests.” She gives your arms a barely noticeable squeeze before she lets go. “So it’s going to be okay.”

    “How can you say that?” you nearly sob, and wish you could hold onto her longer as she stands up and brushes dirt off her uniform. “How can you be so sure?”

    “I’m not,” Byleth says, giving you one last look. You want to tell yourself it’s something like worry you see in her eyes, but her expression remains blank, like a board that’s been wiped clean. “I can only hope.”

    The next morning, Jeralt and Alois set an unforgiving pace, determined to reach the monastery shortly after dawn broke. While everyone else couldn’t wait to reach their home as fast as possible, you feel worry grow with every step up the hill towards the walls and towers. The monastery looms like a stronghold, a building so tall and intimidating, built to make people feel small.

    You were allowed to take off the bandage, and there was nothing worse than knowing something was on your eye but you couldn’t see it. Unlike everyone else. They kept staring at you, mumbling to each other in quiet whispers, and more than once you considered telling them that just because your eye was different it didn’t mean you were blind. It was reason enough for you to put the bandage back on and stay away from the soldiers and mercenaries, leaving them to their superstitious rumours. Who could have thought that you’d grab someone else’s attention entirely with that revelation.

    Even before the first sunbeams broke through the budding branches, the wind carrying the smell of spring and new life, Edelgard stuck to you like a tick. It wasn’t hard to find out she was more interested in your Crest than you as a person, and every question you couldn’t answer fuelled her irritation. Still she was nothing but determined to squeeze the tiniest information out of you, and even though you tried to avoid her by either marching way too fast or way too slow, Edelgard didn’t relent and remained by your side. Fear is a little exaggerated to describe what you feel towards her, but it's close. Whenever her sharp eyes focus on you, unease takes hold of your brain and the words leave your mouth as nervous stammers. It certainly doesn’t help that you know she can easily hack off a grown man’s arm without so much as blinking. Or that the corners of her mouth curl up into the sweetest, rare smile.

    Once you’re on the trade road up to the monastery, pebble makes way to smooth cobblestone. Giant iron doors stand wide open, and as your group enters, a merchant’s cart rolls past you and greets the returning knights. After the first entrance point, the second waits in the form of a portcullis and more knights standing on guard. Past the second ring of walls, you enter a small forecourt. On both sides are stalls and booths with merchants screaming their prices and the sound of metal hammered into the right shape at the blacksmith’s. At the foot of wide stairs leading up into the first building, a man dressed in dark blue robes awaits you, his strong arms crossed behind his back.

    “Welcome back,” he greets Alois and the students. “Your messenger bird has reached us yesterday late into the evening, and preparations have been made.” To Jeralt, he says, “My name is Seteth. I am an adviser to the archbishop. Lady Rhea awaits you.” Jeralt nods but he looks a lot more cautious since you’ve entered the monastery grounds. At the mention of that name, his posture visibly tenses, but he gestures to Byleth and you to follow him nonetheless.

    “We shall return to our respectable classes for now and make known we are unscathed,” Dimitri says. “Please, Byleth, and you too, if things have calmed down, meet the other students as well, won’t you?”

    “Ohh, good idea. You have to go around and introduce yourself as our great saviours.” Claude winks at you with both thumbs up. Edelgard slaps his hands back down.

    “We’ll be standing here until evening if we don’t get going," she says. "Please give Lady Rhea our regards. We’ll report to her once everything is sorted out about you.” She eyes you sideways, then ushers the boys down another hall like a mother hen. You exchange a quick look with Byleth who already looks very exasperated with the student’s antics.

    Seteth leads you into the Audience Chamber, a rectangular room with statues decorating the walls, and asks for you to wait. The moment he leaves the room, you turn towards Jeralt and Byleth and ask, “Who is this Lady Rhea?”

    “I’m aware Byleth doesn’t know much about her, I haven’t taught her he teachings of Seiros, but you—” He stops mid sentence seeing the way you look at him, and clears his throat. “Lady Rhea is the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. She’s commanding the knights and sees that the people don’t do anything stupid in the name of Seiros.”

    “Seiros?” you ask, turning the name in your head. Nope, nothing.

    “You know, the one who defeated the King of Liberation and founded the Church of Seiros?” When you just shrug, Jeralt scratches his beard and hums in thought. “Well, I sure won’t be the one preaching what you should know or not. But maybe don’t make it all too obvious you aren’t a follower.”

    Or what, you want to ask, but Seteth returns and he isn’t alone. The woman walking ahead of him looks like she belongs on the portrait of a saint. It isn’t much that she walks towards you, but rather strides in grateful steps to the middle of the room, her chin raised high and shoulders squared. And yet when she looks at your little assembly, her eyes are soft and kind, her expression open and friendly.

    “I welcome you into these sacred halls,” she says, her voice like soothing velvet on your skin. “Alois informed me of what happened, and I thank every one of you for saving the students.” Lady Rhea smiles at you all separately. Her eyes linger on you, and she titles her head slightly. “I've also heard about the wondrous things that happened to you. Please, be so kind and remove the bandage. Let me take a look at this Crest.”

    You hesitate, your fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. But Rhea waits patiently and raises a delicate hand when her advisor Seteth flinches to repeat her request. Slowly, you take the bandage off, barely able to imagine how the symbol or Crest as they call it looks upon your eye. When you meet Rhea's gaze again, her smile freezes, and her eyes widen in surprise. Her lips part slightly, then stretch into an ecstatic smile. Beside her, Seteth inhales sharply. “This is impossible,” he breathes, growing pale. You start to panic.

    “Why, what's wrong with me? What is impossible?”

    “Nothing, nothing is wrong,” Rhea quickly reassures you, but it's hard to believe when Seteth looks like he's seen a ghost. “A fortunate day indeed. Not only does one of the strongest knights to have ever walked these halls return, but it also seems that a new chapter of history dawns upon us.”

    All eyes land on her, one more puzzled than the other. Even Seteth doesn’t look like he fully comprehends what’s happening. “Lady Rhea?” he asks cautiously at the same time as Jeralt demands, “What are you talking about?”

    The archbishop ignores them both, and the longer she gives you that pleasant smile, the more unsettled you feel. “When Alois wrote about a Crest appearing on your body, I was not sure what to think of it. But now, I cannot hide my joy at the return of a Crest that we thought was lost to history.”

    “I—I don’t know why I have it,” you quickly say, feeling you have to defend yourself before they accuse you of stealing it. Can Crests be stolen in the first place? “I don’t remember why I have it.”

    Lady Rhea nods, her solemn expression making way to worry. “Of that Alois informed me as well. You may stay here until your memories return. Allow me for now to tell you about the Crest. Maybe that will dissipate some of the darkness shrouding your mind.”

    You nod, and brace yourself for whatever she’ll reveal. It certainly helps that Byleth stands close to you, her mere presence a standing stone you can hold onto for now without drifting away.

    “It is a Crest most uncommon,” Lady Rhea explains, her hands gracefully crossed in front of her. “For there was only one person who bore it. This Crest belonged to the very one who served our Lady Seiros against the evil powers that threatened Fódlan thousands of years ago. He was known as Seiros’ Champion. The Herald of Dawn.”

    She allows those words to sink into you, and how deep they sink. Now that they’re out here, you feel like they pull you down, deeper down into a dark sea from which you can’t surface. The only result is drowning.

    “Herald of … you don’t think. You can’t think—” Your thoughts move way too fast, you can’t grasp any to sort them.

    “What I think means nothing in light of what has transpired and therefore is reality. You are chosen by the Goddess herself to bring hope to the people of Fódlan. You are the Herald of Dawn.”

    You feel sick. It may be phantom pain, but you could swear your right eye starts hurting again, as if the Crest is reacting to the revelation, the call of its true nature. You dig your trembling fingers into the fabric of your jacket, considering for the tiniest second to gouge your eye out. Can’t be anyone’s champion or Herald without the Crest, right? “So, you’re saying … am I the one from back then? This Champion?” If you were really the same person, how were you still alive after a thousands of years? The prospect of finally having an identity is great, but you aren’t sure you’re ready to pay the price that comes with it. And this one seems to carry a very heavy price.

    “That seems quite impossible.” This time Seteth speaks up. He looks just as unnerved by this revelation as you feel. “The Herald appeared when Saint Seiros was in dire need, and once his duty was fulfilled, he vanished. ”

    “But now, another Herald has come, and with you the promise of suffering and hardships,” Rhea explains, her expression now strict and foreboding. “The task of giving hope is the most difficult to ask of a person. But that is the path the Goddess has chosen for you.”

    “No, no, you’re wrong. I’m no Herald … and certainly no Champion of anyone. I can’t give people hope, I don’t even know what to give them hope for!” Your voice borders on hysteric, but you’ve never been more determined to plead your case. “I’m not the right person. I’m really not.”

    “Then how come you bear the Crest of Seiros’ Champion, my child?” Lady Rhea asks, and you notice the tiny shift in her voice. The kindness grows thiner and thiner, and in its place austerity and even coldness settle—the voice of authority and undeniable command. “It is Our Goddess’ will. The Church of Seiros needs you. The people of Fódlan need you. You cannot turn away from your Fate.”

    You want to argue that yes, you can; you’ll turn around and leave this place filled with crazy people and their fanatic beliefs. One look from Byleth stops your thoughts. Lady Rhea interprets this silence as compliance, and nods, visibly pleased. “We have waited for this opportunity for so long,” she continues, now smiling again. “There shall be festivities today. As a welcome to our Herald, and the return of Blade Breaker Jeralt. For you, his daughter, we have also thought of a task that will greatly help Garreg Mach.”

    Jeralt grunts, clearly unhappy, but Byleth only cocks her head to one side. You’re astonished that after everything, she’s still awfully calm and collected.

    “A teaching position has become free as of yesterday,” Lady Rhea explains to Byleth. “By Alois' recommendation, you are to take that position and teach one of the Houses here at the Officers Academy. Your colleagues will provide you with further information. As for you,” and you flinch when she turns to you, afraid what else she has in store, “you too shall teach the students the course of leadership and command. Seiros’ Champion was a great tactician. He honed Saint Macuil’s abilities. I would not be surprised if you too show an unparallelled gift for strategy.”

    “Well,” you start, but the hesitation is clear, and Lady Rhea smiles like she knows what you can do once the Crest is activated. “Whereas you are to choose one house,” she tells Byleth, “the Herald will hold seminars. As a servant of the Church, you cannot call in favourites.”

    “I don’t even know what to teach,” you mumble weakly. “How to teach.”

    “Me neither,” Byleth says, the first time she’s spoken since entering the Audience Chamber. The amusement glinting in Lady Rhea’s eyes is like the sun reflected on a purling river. “Do not worry,” she says. “You will learn in time. And we are here to help you as well.”

    On your lips lie the words that they certainly didn’t help you. You came here so they could help to search for a way to return your memory.

    Instead, they made everything worse.

    The ceremonial robes hang heavy over your shoulders. The feast hasn’t started yet, but you’re already sweating and panting with the weight of the golden embroidery and the head piece decorating your forehead. When Seteth brought everything in a couple of hours ago, he was grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, at his side a little girl who, unlike him, was happy to meet you and to see that you’d take on the role as the Herald. You wanted to tell Flayn there was a difference between want and have to, but she was already focused on helping you dress and prepare for the festivities. Servants handled the remaining tasks of making you presentable, and now you’re standing in front of a giant mirror, observing yourself.

    It was scary how things changed so fast. Not even 24 hours ago, you were a nobody, a nameless figure roaming the woods, and now there is a name that isn’t your own—no, not a name. A title. A title that will all but replace your name. History won’t remember you as a person, they will remember the deeds that you’ve done, the mistakes that you’ll commit. Lady Rhea spoke of honour like it’s a crown on your head, but you see the noose that it really is around your throat. The head piece feels too heavy, and the golden necklace sitting on your neck reminds you more of a dog collar.

    There’s a knock on your door. Seteth said that someone would get you before everything starts, and you don’t even try to hide the relieved sob when Byleth enters the room. She examines you from head to toes, and leans her head to the side, one finger on her chin. “You look … different,” she says.

    “You mean ridiculous.” You move your arms, demonstrating how the wide sleeves flap uselessly at your side. “I wish we could do this all without me looking like a sack of potatoes.”

    “I had to think of cabbages, but you aren’t wrong either.” She crosses the room and looks outside the window. You can already hear the masses as they enter the Cathedral, and it does nothing to calm your haywire nerves. Byleth seems to notice as much. She turns to you, and asks, “How are you holding up?”

    “Do you want the real answer or the one I prepared for Lady Rhea?”

    Byleth raises a brow.

    “Not good. I’m just … how could this happen?” You throw up your hands in frustration, and the robes give a dangerous tearing sound. Your arms fall immediately down, the thought of damaging a hundreds of years old ceremonial robe the last thing you need today. “Of all the things, how could I suddenly become some figure of the Church.”

    “Is it so hard to believe that the Goddess of Fódlan has lead you to this path?” Byleth crosses her ams and leans against the wall next to the window, eyeing you curiously.

    “I don’t even believe in this Goddess,” you groan, flopping on your bed. The chambers chosen for you overlook the bridge leading to the Cathedral where people swarm inside like little ants returning to their anthill. It was a small room equipped with all necessities for comfort but no additional expenses on luxury. A bed, a dresser, a simple table and chair, a mirror, and a shelf take up all the space. Not that you could have brought anything with you.

    You look up at Byleth and dread the next question. “Do you believe in it?” you ask. “That I’m someone chosen?”

    “Hmm.” Byleth casts one last glance outside, then pushes off the wall, gesturing you to follow her. You sigh, and mentally prepare yourself for what will happen in the Cathedral. Before you leave the room, Byleth rests her hand on the door handle and looks back at you over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Where I’m from, belief doesn’t save you from the sword of a thief. Only deeds and actions. It’s the reason my father and I are still alive.” She considers you for a moment, and when you blink you imagine you see the tiniest smile on her face. “What you did yesterday was very much real to me. Maybe a Goddess guided you, maybe it was just lucky instinct. But you saved my life, and that certainly is something I can rely on.”

    She doesn’t wait for an answer, and swings the door open. You quickly follow, your steps feeling a lot lighter than before. “I guess I’m just frustrated,” you admit, carefully paying attention your voice isn’t too loud. “That they think there’s someone who can just decide how my life is going to be. Like this herald business suddenly defies who I am.”

    “As long as you don’t forget who you are, does it matter?” Byleth wonders aloud, turning down another corridor that ends in stairs leading down. “As long as there is just one person who doesn’t forget, does it really matter?”

    Maybe not to her, but for some inexplicable reason, it means a great deal to you. So you answer with a grumble, and Byleth hums like she knows she’s right. To change the subject, you ask, “What about you? How can you just follow along with being a teacher here?”

    “Truth be told, I’m not happy,” Byleth says, nodding to the knights standing on guard in the first floor that leads outside. “But at the same time I can see Lady Rhea’s reasoning. Those students need someone who teaches them not to be stupid on the real battlefield. Especially when they are to be future rulers of Fódlan. If I’m the one shaping those little whippersnappers, I can rest at ease.”

    You follow her down the hallways, staying silent until, “Whippersnapper is such a weird word,” you say.

    Byleth gives a huff of air that barely passes as a chuckle. “It is.”

    Together you leave the living quarters and enter the Cathedral at the backside where everything is closed off for the rest of the people. Lady Rhea and Seteth are already waiting for you, both dressed in equally complicated robes as you.

    “Thank you, Professor.” Lady Rhea nods towards Byleth, who nods back and joins the other teachers. “And now, Herald, it is time to meet the sheep you shall shepherd from today on. Please, follow me.”

    She doesn’t give you time to prepare for the crowd waiting for you, and glancing at Seteth for help doesn’t do anything either as he just crudely nods towards Lady Rhea, telling you to go along. You square your shoulders and hope for the best.

    The Cathedral has been decorated with candles and tapestry showing the banner of the Church of Seiros and above it the Crest of the Herald. A platform has been built for your entrance, and stepping on it, your gaze roams over all the assembled students, clergy, and knights. Seeing them, you feel terror seize your body, locking up all muscles. The masses look at you with hunger in their eyes, ready to devour you like you’re the last piece of bread on the table. “Herald, Herald! ” they cry, and each time they open their mouths, the noose tightens around your neck. Saint and Martyr vaguely dance at the edges of your mind, beyond your grasp, mocking how you know them but don’t understand their very being. This is bigger than you. This is far bigger than you can manage, and you want to run away and hide from their greedy eyes.

    Scanning the crowd, you notice the house leaders in the far back. Edelgard looks unpleased, her mouth set into a grim line, while Dimitri claps politely with the rest, and Claude raises a golden cup in mocking salute. You really want to break down and cry. The only solid point is Byleth, has always been Byleth up until now, at the other end of the room, holding your gaze steadfast like a pillow of strength in troubled waters.

[ficforce]

Circles and Crosses and Heroes

Shinmon Benimaru x Reader OC Child SFW No set timeline as an OC AU Benimaru’s Daughter wants to get married

“Unca Konro!”

Konro bent down and picked up the toddler with a smile, she settled against his side and was content to be quiet whilst he finished his conversation with another man. Once he was done, Konro turned to look at her, “Do you even know where your mouth is?” The man pulled out a handkerchief from his belt, he usually kept it on him when he was babysitting, and wiped her face of the rice bits, “What’s up?”

She made a grab for the piece of cloth but missed as he pulled it away, “Can’t find Papa.”

“Papa is training with Arthur and Shinra,” Konro walked toward the back of the guardhouse with the tiny girl and slid open the shoji door. Arthur was lying face down in the dirt whilst Shinra and Benimaru went at it, Benimaru wasn’t fighting particularly hard but he was giving the kid a workout, “See.”

“Papa!”

Shinra let out a sharp yelp as the Captain caught his ankle and launched him across the yard into a wall, he hadn’t seemed to have made any effort to do so and that ticked Shinra off. The teen jumped up and fired up his feet to attack again - stopping as he realised that Benimaru was already by Konro and taking his daughter from the man. It melted his heart to see the little girl snuggle into the most dangerous man in Asakusa, she was a really cute kid and it was obvious she had Benimaru wrapped around her little finger. “What?” He demanded from his child, tipping his head back as she reached for his hair, “You never do this to Konro, he’s got more to pull on, brat.”

“Because she respects her Uncle, I need to get the reports from across town, Waka. Y/N’s not back yet.” Konro loved looking after her but he still had duties and he wasn’t going to leave a two and a half-year-old alone, “I’ll leave her to you - try not to teach her anymore swear words.”

“It’s not my fault she’s got big ears,” they were never going to forgive him for that. Benimaru kicked Arthur to wake him up and then held her out to Shinra, “I got a few errands to run too, take care of her. If her eyes turn into crosses then be ready to put out some fires…” He ruffled her hair and headed off, “Be good!”

Shinra looked at the toddler with a nervous smile, he loved kids, he loved playing with them and generally being around them but this was Shinmon Benimaru’s daughter. If even a single hair on her head were damaged - He’d be dead. He didn’t usually spend much time with her, mostly in Asakusa for training and when he did see her she was usually with her mother and not interested in anyone else. She was a cute kid, all of her father’s colouring but looking more like her mother, “You hungry?”

“Nope.”

“Sleepy?”

“Nu-uh.” she smacked her hand onto his cheek and pulled a little, “You gots shark teefs.”

Arthur sprung up and held his arms out for her, “He’s a devil! I’ll protect you, Princess!”

The toddler blinked at him and puffed out her cheeks, her eyes narrowing as her iris’ morphed into crosses and Arthur’s right sleeve caught fire, “Papa protek me…” They returned to circles and she wriggled around until Shinra put her down, “Wanna Daifuku.”

“But you said you ate already,” Shinra crouched down to her level, ignoring as Arthur waved his arm around and blew on the flames, they weren’t particularly hot but Shinra figured it would be dangerous if she burned something and it got out of control. “I guess that little old lady would be happy to see you though… Want me to fly you there?”

Benimaru’s daughter looked excited all of a sudden and bounced in place, “Like Papa does?! Like a witch!”

The teen snorted into his hand, he could see how the matoi might look like a fiery broom and give that kind of imagery, “Nah, Like a hero!”

“Hero?” She couldn’t quite imagine it but didn’t object when Shinra picked her up and kicked dust and fire up into Arthur’s face before rocketing up into the sky. The little girl squealed in delight and giggled as he did a loop just to show off a little.

He had them to the old woman’s stall in no time flat and landed in a pose. “That’s how a hero lands!”

“So dumb!” She didn’t care about his crestfallen expression and ran toward the old woman, grabbing her sleeve with big eyes, “Biddy!”

“O-oi… that’s kinda rude…” Shinra watched as the woman stroked the girl’s hair and made it a little neater, already fussing about how cute she looked and how big she was getting. Within moments the toddler was munching on fresh sweets and the old woman was shovelling more into a bag for her to take home to her family. “Don’t forget to thank the lady.”

“Thanks, Biddy!” She made a run between Shinra’s legs to the stall across from the Daifuku and began chatting with the vendor, watching as he threw some ingredients into a boiling pot of oil.

The teen figured that everyone likely knew who she was and he relaxed a little, Benimaru was loved by the people of Asakusa and he had no doubt that love was extended to his daughter. He half kept an eye on her as he chatted to the old woman, catching up on the latest news and then he felt that odd sensation he got when something was about to happen. Was it an infernal, red eyes zeroed in on the toddler, he would make sure she was safe first but then he gasped as he saw her stumble, her tiny little hands grabbed the pole holding up the hot oil and the boiling liquid began to spill toward her.

Shinra had never been so grateful for his speed as he had been then, the training he had received from Benimaru and all the practice he put into his Rapid attack were all worth it. He underestimated his stopping point and he ended up rolling a few feet across the street, the little girl bundled to his chest as he used his legs and arms to keep her from getting hurt. He glanced at the spot where she had fallen and swallowed thickly as he saw the spot now covered in oil, scorching the ground - he didn’t know how fireproof she was but the toddler would have been badly hurt. Sitting up he checked her over for any scrapes, “You okay?” Her crimson eyes began to fill with tears and she let out a loud wail as she began to cry, Shinra sighed in relief as he found no harm had come to her, she was just freaked out from the accident, “It’s okay, Save-the-girl-and-be-a-hero-man is here.” He hugged her close and picked her up, figuring he should at least carry her home.

— -

She stuck to his side from then, following him around the guardhouse, holding onto his pant leg and insisting he carry her for the rest of the day. When her mother arrived home first she ran to Y/N and the woman pressed a kiss to her head, “Thanks for helping out, Shinra.”

After that people began to return to the guardhouse for dinner or to get changed and go home, some of them had plans already but the whole place became more lively, Hinata and Hikage cheered as they saw him. The news of what Shinra had done to save Benimaru’s daughter had spread throughout the town… So it was really no surprise when the teen found himself pinned to the wall by his throat. Benimaru’s eyes were glowing bright and he looked about ready to incinerate the other there and then, “You made her cry.”

‘You made her cry,’ not, ‘You nearly let my child get horribly injured,’.

He couldn’t reply even if he wanted to, he grabbed Benimaru’s wrist and tried to loosen his grip a little so that he could breathe. He was about to kick at the Captain when the pitter-patter of little bare feet rushed toward them and the toddler pulled on Benimaru’s leg, “Nooo! Papa! No!” She tugged on him harder and a spike of heat travelled up the man’s leg as the clothing began to burn. Benimaru looked down at her as he extinguished the small flames, her eyes were beginning to water, the crimson orbs glowing as brightly as his and her body heat raised enough to dry out her damp hair from her bath. Letting Shinra go he scooped her up and carried her over to sit by the table, placing her on his lap and getting her to calm down before she had a burnout. “No hurt Shinra! You can’t!”

“Why not.”

“Gonna marry Shinra!” She yanked on her father’s clothing and pulled his sleeve down his arm. It was then that Y/N came in and took her from Benimaru, snuggling the toddler until her small tantrum calmed enough that she wasn’t a walking fire hazard. “Like Shinra!”

“Papa isn’t going to do anything to Shinra,” Y/N turned to half glare at the man, “Right, Beni?”

Benimaru shrugged and glared at the teen, he had other ways of showing his displeasure and if Shinra wasn’t dead after training the next day then he would just have to try harder. Of course, he was grateful that his daughter hadn’t been hurt and that the other had protected her but Shinra had let her get that close to danger in the first place. He had calmed down by the time dinner was ready and he looked around for his little girl, usually she sat on his lap during dinner, he froze when he saw her climbing onto Shinra’s lap. He glared across the table and his chopsticks snapped in his grip - that was his baby…

“Beni,” Y/N placed her hand on his thigh, “You’re the only man she really loves.” She could tell when he was jealous, he always pouted and his body temperature would rise, he had been known to get jealous even when Konro got all of their daughter’s attention. “She’ll forget all about him when he goes back to the 8th.” The toddler spent the evening glued to Shinra’s side, the boy blushing as she told him that he was her husband now and had to listen to her. Benimaru sulked the entire time and continued to do so even as he laid down to sleep.

Benimaru was used to being the hero for her, he didn’t like sharing her at all…

“Papa…” The door slid open a little and the toddler wriggled through the gap then ran over to him as he sat up, “Papa.”

“You should be in bed, what’s wrong, bad dream?” He let her climb onto his lap and pat his cheeks, grabbing his hair and making him bring his head down so she could press a wet kiss to his nose.

“Love Papa the most.”

[stillebesat]

Meeting Virgil (5x1) -First Time

December Drabbles Day 16  Sanders Shorts: Remy  Sanders Sides: Virgil  Blurb: A Special Delivery Prequel. -Five times Remy tried to give Virgil a child and the one time he succeeded.  Inspiration: @book-of-charlie​ asked: What did Virgil mean by "the last 5 times?" Fic Type: STORK!AU, Winged!Remy Fic Warnings: Bad Parenting implications, Injury, Hitting  Taglist in Reblog. 

The baby girl stirred in Remy’s arms just as the bright lights of good old NYC came into view. “Shh. Shh, little one.” He soothed, brushing her tiny cheek with a single finger, leaving the faintest of traces of dark green dust behind that would ensure that she would drift back into whatever dreams a newborn could have. “We’re almost there.” 

It had been a long night of flying for the both of them, though Remy had been doing all the work with his wings, having flown over three major storm cells in his cross country journey from West Coast to East. 

You couldn’t argue with the Parent Line though. 

Remy glanced to the brightly glowing purple ribbon of light he’d chosen to follow out of the half dozen that had been presented to him when he’d taken the baby girl from the hot car she’d purposely been left in and tilted his wings, adjusting his flight path to take him deeper into the city. 

Always choose the brightest. That was what he’d been told to do when multiple ribbons appeared in his vision. Not that any of the choices were bad per se, but the brighter the colored ribbon, the more easily the parents could integrate the child into their lives and that was what was needed. A smooth transition. 

Far smoother than most of the others. Remy let out a low whistle, wings fluttering as his weaving through the city led him to one of the skyscrapers that housed the richer millionaire type of people. “Well look who lucked out.” He mumbled, pushing his sunglasses onto his head as he landed gracefully on a balcony halfway up the south side. 

A richy. That was...different. Usually the fools were too obsessed over making money and buying their next fancy jet or island to want to deal with children, especially newborns. It just didn’t...fit. 

Remy frowned, adjusting the baby in his arms, his wings curling around them to block out the wind so she wouldn’t get cold as he double checked that the purple ribbon was leading him inside.

It was.

“Huh.” The word left his lips involuntarily as he moved to the sliding glass door, the latch unlocking at his touch so he could slip inside the darkened room. Maybe she wasn’t going to the millionaire but to their maid or butler instead. That would make far more sens--

WHAM.

Remy staggered as something cold and definitely made of heavy metal hit the side of his face. His sunglasses flew off, landing somewhere to his left as he whirled to the source, wing raising in time to block the frying pan swinging again for his head. “WATCH THE BABY!” He screeched at his unknown assailant as he desperately tried to blink the stars from his eyes. 

Geez. And he’d thought seeing stars was a myth. 

The shadowy figure froze. “Lights.” A man said in a low voice.

Remy hissed, ducking his aching head as the room flooded with light, blinding him. His wings automatically folded in over him to protect his poor eyes, but also so he could check on the baby girl. 

If this idiot had harmed her---

But no. The tightness in his chest eased to see her still sleeping soundly. Good. The dust had helped to keep her asleep despite the noise. 

He looked up, wings pulling back as he straightened to glare at the man in a black hoodie with dark eyeshadow under his eyes like a freaking raccoon standing before him with a  frying pan held in his hands. “Geez Rapunzel. You’re lucky you didn’t hurt her!” 

The man bared his teeth, a hiss coming from his lips, though his grey storm colored eyes anxiously checked the bundle in Remy’s arms. “What sort of idiot brings a baby to a break-in?” He demanded.

Remy scoffed, taking a slow step backwards to get out of range of the ‘weapon,’ holding his charge protectively. “Gurl! Me? Break in--out of the two of us--” He gestured with one wing to his brown leather jacket and jeans, wondering why no one else had come to investigate the commotion yet. “Which of us looks more like a robber? Cus it certainly ain’t me, Sugarbee.” 

The man glanced down to his clothes and smirked before he surged forward, pressing the edge of the frying pan against Remy’s throat before he could blink. “I’m the one who lives here, Flynn Rider.” He growled, stormy eyes glittering. “I can dress however the blazes I want and no freaking glowing green-eyed Angel is going to tell me how to dress.” 

Angel?

Remy froze, swallowing as the cold metal pressed against his throat. Impossible. Adults shouldn’t be able to-- “You can see my wings?” He asked carefully, ignoring the comment about his eyes. He already knew people were offset by the metallic quality they held, but it came with being a S.T.O.R.K. along with the wings.

“Well…yah?” The man frowned, grey eyes flicking to them, the baby and then back to Remy himself. “I mean you’re no Mothman, that’s for sure, they're more polite.” 

No Mothman? The man spoke like he’d met one. That wasn’t--they didn’t exist! It shou--who was this guy?! His wings spread out, puffing up. “But that’s---you shouldn’t!”

The man raised his eyebrows, taking a step back. “Why shouldn’t I be able to see them? They’re rather hard to miss.” He gestured to the wings with his makeshift weapon. “All white and huge.” 

“Because you’re not---” Remy cut off, abruptly realizing where exactly the purple ribbon in the room led. “Oh Jiminy Crickets.” He breathed as he made the connection.  “You are.” It still didn’t explain how his wings were visible to this guy, but--

The man tensed, fingers going white on the handle. “I’m what?” 

Remy relaxed, wings snapping shut. It was unusual, yes, but there were no other ribbons drifting through the apartment. Meaning that the Emo Nightmare before him was the only person here. A single father. Unusual, but not uncommon. “You ever hear of a S.T.O.R.K?” He asked, moving a step closer, brushing the sleeping baby girl’s cheek with a finger. 

“The regular bird, or the legends about how babies--” The man inhaled sharply, going pale as the frying pan slipped from his fingers to clatter to the floor. 

Remy smirked. Looked like Rapunzel could piece the puzzle together on his own. “Still wondering why I’m here in your apartment with a baby?” 

If anything the soon-to-be Father got paler, stumbling back a step. “I can’t!” His voice cracked.

Yah, Remy had heard similar exclamations with other deliveries he’d made. “Of course you can.” He said, carefully holding the little girl out to him. He wouldn’t be here if the young man wouldn’t be a good Dad. “You already have a Father’s protective instinct down.” 

If he didn’t end up with half his face black and blue in the morning, Remy would be very surprised. “You’ll be fine.” 

“But she’s a tiny baby! What if I hurt--no.” The young man violently shook his head, vaulting over the back of the black couch to put a blockade between him and Remy, crossing his arms in front of him as a feeble blockade. “No. No, I can’t take her! I’m not a good dad. I won’t be--I can’t!” 

Denial too was to be expected. It isn’t always easy to comprehend that you’re suddenly a parent. Though no new Dad had reacted quite like this before. “You’ll be fine.” Remy soothed. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise. I don’t make mistakes.” No S.T.O.R.K. did. “Here.” Again he held her out. “Just hold her and you’ll see.” 

The familial bond could only be made once the parents, or in this case, parent held the child in his arms. Not before. But once he did. Flynn Rider here would be fine. He’d be a great Dad.  

 Edgelord shuddered, closing his eyes as he turned away, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “No. Please. No. I can’t. I can’t. I CAN’T! She deserves better. Please.” 

Please.

The purple ribbon fizzled out, vanishing before Remy’s eyes only for a bright pink ribbon to suddenly flash into view, leading out and away from the apartment. 

What the what?! Remy pulled the child close to his chest, rocking her as she stirred, whimpering in her sleep. The ribbon had just--that had never happened before! EVER. Once a S.T.O.R.K. chose a ribbon, then the child would go to that family. No question. And now--suddenly--Remy swallowed, slowly shaking his head, his wings half spreading, fluttering in his confusion. 

He didn’t get it. But if the man felt that strongly, so strongly to change the ribbon’s color-- 

”Alright. Hey. Hey. Gurl, it’s alright. You don’t have to say yes.” It was unusual. Actually, all of this was just plain weird. No one ever refused a S.T.O.R.K. once they were chosen. “I can take her to another.” 

The man refused to turn around. “Then do it.” He choked out. “Go.” 

Remy frowned, but didn’t argue, scooping up his sunglasses as he moved to the open balcony door. He needed to get the baby girl to this family of this new glowing pink parent line before the sun rose. 

Still, he paused on the threshold, looking over his shoulder to the man in black. “I do stand by what I said though.” He slipped outside, spreading his wings. “You will make a great Dad.”  He called as he took a running leap, jumping off the balcony to soar up into the night sky, following the new ribbon’s trail northeast towards Boston. 

Remy set his jaw, holding the babe close to his chest as he climbed. He just needed to find the right child to prove it.

To Be Continued Second Time

[animezing-fandoms]

Willow

Masterlist

Relationships: Nalu

Warnings: Blood, injury, stabbing (basically there’s a fight and injuries are sustained but it’s not graphic detail) Implied/referenced lemon. Abusive parents (Jude’s a real bad parent in this AU) 

Summary: During a job with team Natsu, Lucy gets hit in the head and wakes up in a dream where she's a princess who runs away from home to be with her lover, the half-dragon half-human Count Natsu Dragneel.

A/N: So I had this wild dream one night about nalu and decided to write it as a fic. I hope it isn’t too crazy! And yes I also incorporated some lyrics from Taylor Swift’s Willow. Enjoy! 

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

“I am seriously starting to regret taking this job with you guys!” Lucy wails.

She was currently on a job with Team Natsu. The job seemed simple enough on paper. They just needed to find a rare crystal in a forest. Sounds easy right? Well, the client forgot to mention that this forest has weird clearings that need to be crossed in order to get to the crystal, and giant killer eagles that attack you when you’re in the clearings! 

That’s why Lucy was currently running for her life, heading for the tree-line. She dares to look over her shoulder and instantly regrets it when she sees one of those eagles swooping down towards her. 

Before it can grab her, Natsu kicks it with his fire dragon’s claw and then scoops Lucy up in his arms bridal style and they leap into the tree-line as another eagle swoops by, just missing them. 

Natsu looks down and sees Lucy breathing heavily with her face buried in his scarf. 

“Lucy are you okay?” He asks her softly. 

At the sound of his voice Lucy turns to look at his face and blushes. 

“Y-yeah I’m fine.” She replies softly. 

As her fear began to fade a new feeling was arising. Well it wasn’t entirely new. She’d felt this before. A warm feeling in her chest and butterflies in her stomach. She felt like this whenever she was close to Natsu. And she knew what it meant, she had felt it before whenever a cute guy got close to her. But Natsu wasn’t a potential boyfriend? That ship had sailed after she got all dressed up to meet him in the park to dig for holes instead of a date.

He clearly doesn’t think about her in that way. And even if he did, she never would have known from the look on his face. 

So she shouldn’t think of him that way either. He could be really annoying sometimes. Breaking into her apartment, wrecking her plans. And yet, sometimes at night with her head on the pillow she could feel him sneaking in. 

He was like some mythical thing. And not because he was created as a demon, was taught dragon slayer magic and time traveled 400 years to be with her now. To be with her now...

As she looks at him she wishes she could know what he’s thinking. 

There’s one prize I’d cheat to win. 

“Oooo Lucy’s blushing!” Happy teases pulling Lucy from her thoughts. “I think she’s in lo-“ 

“Shut it cat!” Lucy retorts before Happy can finish. 

“I agree with Lucy. Now is not the time for jokes.” Erza says seriously as Natsu sets Lucy down. “We have one more clearing to cross before we can reach the willow tree that holds the crystal.” 

“Another one!?” Lucy exclaims. “We can’t find some other way around?” 

“Unfortunately we can’t.” Erza says. “Our only option is to run for it and fight too if need be.” 

Lucy looks past the tree-line to see the large willow tree on the other side. It would be a long, dangerous sprint. She takes in a shaky breath then exhales when she feels a warm hand slide into hers. 

She turns to see Natsu smiling at her. But not with that goofy grin he usually wore. This time, he was smiling at her softly with an endearing look on his face, as if he was looking at something precious. Her heart was pounding and she could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“Don’t worry Lucy. I won’t let any of those birds hurt you.” He promises.

Lucy smiles back at him. 

“Thanks Natsu.” Lucy says. 

“Alright now let’s go fry up some chicken!” Natsu shouts and runs into the clearing.

“Natsu wait!” Wendy shouts after him.

“That idiot! We were supposed to come up with a plan together first!” Gray exclaims.

“Well it’s too late for that now!” Erza says with a frustrated sigh before drawing her sword and following him.

Lucy figures that Natsu’s plan was to draw all of the attention to himself, so that the rest of them could sneak past. And that would have been a good plan if they weren’t in an open clearing. There was nowhere to hide and now they were all spread out. And there were more birds this time too! 

What’s worse is that these birds were quicker. Lucy knows that if she slows down to summon a spirit, she’d surely get picked up and carried away! And she was definitely having a few close calls right now.

I thought Natsu said he would protect me? She thinks to herself as another bird swoops low.

Lucy was almost at the willow though. Just right through those branches and then she’d be safe! 

But she was so focused on getting there that she didn’t see the branch hanging down from one of the other trees in her path! And as soon as she made it there, she smacked her head on the branch and everything went black.

—————————

When Lucy awoke, she was laying under the willow tree all alone, her companions nowhere to be found. 

As she rose to sit up she found that her head was in no pain from getting hit, like she had never hit it in the first place. And the killer birds were nowhere to be found either.

She gently brushes the leaves off of the long purple skirts of her corseted dress as she tries to remember what she was doing out here in the woods. 

“Did you rest well Princess?” A familiar voice asks and Lucy smiles.

“Virgo!” She exclaims, happy to see her face. 

Suddenly her memories of how she wound up in this situation came flooding back to her. She, Princess Lucy Heartfilia of the kingdom of Fiore was betrothed to a man she did not love by her father who cared little for her happiness. So she ran away with the help of her most trusted maid Virgo, to a place where she knew she would be safe. The territory that was home to the man she truly loved. Thinking of him made her chest feel warm, yet she could not picture his face at the moment. Nor his name. 

“Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark.” 

Those were the instructions he gave Virgo. She waited for the signal. A dragon flew over the castle, casting a dark shadow over it to give she and Virgo cover as they escaped. 

And now it was dark. She was in the place. But her man was nowhere to be found. 

“Have we made across the border to the Dragon’s Forest yet Virgo?” Lucy asks eagerly. 

“We should have, if that is the Dragon’s Roar River.” Virgo says, pointing at the rushing white-water river that was behind them. 

Lucy couldn’t begin to think of how they managed to cross it. But she wasn’t as interested in figuring that out as she was about another matter. 

“If we’re really in the forest then he should have known I’m here and come by now. Unless I was napping for a shorter time than I thought...” Lucy says.

“Hmm...well it could be the second river further up ahead?” Virgo says and looks ahead. “Perhaps we should continue to move inward onto his territory, just to be sure we’re in the right place.”

“I agree.” Lucy says and brings herself to stand, brushing the dirt off of her skirts.

Then fear grips her heart as she hears horses whinnying nearby, followed by men’s voices shouting. 

“No...” She mutters as she turns to see a carriage followed by a group of soldiers crossing a bridge over the river.

A few of the soldiers ahead of the carriage began to approach with their spears drawn. 

“There’s the princess! King Jude, we found her and the traitorous maid!” The soldiers shout as Lucy and Virgo turn to run away. 

As Lucy desperately hiked up her skirts to run away, she regrets not changing into a different outfit. These large skirts definitely weren’t made for running away from danger in the woods. But once she and Virgo had discovered what her father’s plans for her were, there was no time to change. They had to leave immediately to get to the one person Lucy knew could protect her. And as the soldiers surround her and Virgo, and her father approaches them, Lucy hopes that he’ll come soon.

“Daughter, have you gone mad!” Lucy’s father, King Jude exclaims. 

“I could ask you the same thing!” Lucy bravely retorts. 

She may be surrounded by soldiers and facing the man who had been controlling her life since she was a child. But if he was going to lock her away in the castle and force her to marry a man she didn’t love, then she won’t succumb to that fate without a fight. 

“You’re saying I’m the one at fault!” Jude exclaims. “You snuck out of the castle on the night of the ball being held to announce your engagement because you trust in the counsel of some lunatic maid over that of your own father! And now I find you here with that maid trespassing on dragon’s territory! And you think I’m the one who’s mad!” 

The anger behind his words made tears sting at the corners of Lucy’s eyes, but she wouldn’t back down from this fight. She couldn’t. There was too much at stake. 

“What kind of father would ignore the happiness of his own daughter and make such a huge decision for her without even asking her what she thinks!” Lucy exclaims. 

“Because a father knows what’s good for his daughter!” Jude replies. “And a good daughter would obey her father and do what’s best for her kingdom!”

“It’s not what’s best for the kingdom! It’s what’s best for you!” Lucy retorts. “The royal families you wish to make alliances with only care about their own wealth! They don’t care about the citizens of their own kingdoms much less ours! I could never marry someone like that!” Lucy shouts. 

“What the hell are you all doing in my forest!” A voice shouts from somewhere in the trees. 

Gasps of fear erupted amongst the soldiers while Jude’s face pales. Virgo cracks a small smile and a look of relief washes over Lucy’s features as the figure of a man drops down from the trees. 

This was no ordinary man though. Even though he wore the typical noble attire for a human man, he also had large maroon dragon wings sprouting from his back, and two matching horns pointing up from the spiky pink hair on his head. He even had matching maroon scales on the sides of his face and trailing down his neck. Most people were terrified when they looked into his bright reptilian green eyes. But Lucy felt something very different. She felt warmth, and love. 

“Natsu...” she sighs in joy and relief.

“Lucy.” Natsu replies with the same warmth in his voice.

The warmth in his voice makes warmth flood through her chest. No matter what world they were in, Natsu would always be her knight in shining armor. 

He holds out his arms for her and she moves to go to him but her father grabs her arm and yanks her back.

“Hey! Let me go!” Lucy protests and tries to yank her arm back but her father only pulls harder “Ouch!” She yelps.

Upon seeing his damsel in distress Natsu’s  soft demeanor immediately changes into something more reminiscent of the beast he resembles. 

“Get off of her!” Natsu roars.

He charges forward at an inhuman speed, right past the guards and yanks Jude’s hand off of Lucy’s arm, not caring to be gentle with him at all, causing him some pain as he takes Lucy into his arms and hugs her.

“Are you alright?” Natsu asks her softly. “Did he hurt your arm?” 

“Just a bit when he grabbed it. But I’ll be alright now that you’re here.” Lucy replies and rests her head under his chin, taking comfort in the warmth his body provided. 

Natsu holds her in his arms and gives her a light squeeze as he rests his cheek on top of her head. 

“You’re safe with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.” Natsu swears and presses a light kiss to her forehead.

“And yet you dare hurt me, her father?” Jude asks Natsu angrily, making him frown. “The King that your father is loyal to!”

“The Dragon King Igneel doesn’t swear loyalty to humans. He’s only loyal to his friends, and mine. And you’re no friend of his.” Natsu growls back. 

“But I made a deal with him! I let the dragons live in this forest in peace without any humans trespassing on your land and give you the noble title of Count to represent the dragons in our kingdom and in return the dragons protect us from invaders. We have an agreement, your father is loyal to me, and therefore as his son you should show me some respect!” Jude declares.

Natsu can’t help but smirk and laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” Jude asks. 

“You clearly misunderstood the purpose of the deal.” Natsu says. “The only reason my father protects your kingdom instead of burning it to the ground is because your daughter lives in it.”

Lucy smiles as Natsu gently nuzzles his face against her head before continuing.

“I’m half-dragon half-human. Igneel fell in love with a human woman and through some source of magic they found he was able to have a child with her but she died giving birth to me. So I stayed with my father’s people, the dragons. They were the only ones that accepted me. The humans all thought of me as a monster and when I was a kid they would chase me away when I would go into their towns looking for desserts and other treats I could smell from the outskirts of town. And because of the death of my mother my father is very protective of me so he’d burn down any village that treated me poorly. Then one day we came to Fiore and it was the same story as the other kingdoms. I got chased out of the markets and somehow wound up in the palace gardens to hide. Then that’s when I met Lucy. The first human I’d ever met who wasn’t afraid of me. And to this day, the only human who’s treated me with kindness. That’s why Igneel agreed to protect Fiore. Because it’s where my new best friend Lucy lived.”

“So the only reason Fiore isn’t ashes right now is because King Igneel wanted you to be able to have play dates with my daughter?” Jude asks.

“Yep.” Natsu replies. “If we burned the place down then my Princess would cry. And I can’t have that.” Natsu says.

“Your princess?” Jude asks. “You think she belongs to you?”

“She doesn’t belong to anybody she’s a person not an object!” Natsu retorts. 

“That’s where you’re wrong! I’m her father so she belongs to me!” Jude replies. 

“Not anymore!” Lucy shouts back, finding her courage now that she was with Natsu. “Count Natsu Dragneel and I are in love and he won’t let you take me away from him to marry me off to someone else!” 

“He was going to do what?!” Natsu exclaims and growls at Jude.

“He was going to sell me off like a brood mare to some horrible prince so I came here to run away with you so we can be together!” Lucy explains.

“I’ll never let my daughter marry a monster!” Jude yells. 

“Natsu’s not a monster! But you are!” Lucy retorts. 

Jude smirks and nods his head. 

Then a loud smacking noise comes from behind them and Lucy and Natsu turn around to see that one of the guards slapped Virgo in the face. 

“Virgo! No!” Lucy exclaims and turns back to her father. “Why would you hurt her?”

“Because I can’t hurt you at the moment. So your dear little treasonous maid will bear the punishment for your disobedience instead.” Jude explains. 

“You’re disgusting!” Lucy replies reflexively but then regrets it when Virgo gets hit again. 

Natsu frowns as he notices Lucy starting to cry so he turns to the soldiers with a frown.

“Virgo duck!” Natsu shouts before breathing fire at the soldiers. 

They scream as the flames hit them and Virgo gets free of them. Lucy runs over to hug her. 

“Virgo I’m so sorry!” Lucy apologizes. 

“It’s alright princess! It wasn’t your fault!”Virgo says. 

Natsu smiles as Lucy embraces her friend. Happy that she wasn’t crying anymore. Then he grimaces as he feels a shooting pain in his side. 

He turns and sees Jude holding the sword that just stabbed him. 

Virgo gasps when she opens her eyes and sees what happens. Then Lucy turns and her heart shatters. 

“Natsu! No!” She wails. 

“Don’t worry Lucy I’m fine.” Natsu says and grabs the sword in his hand and pulls it out of the wound with no pain whatsoever. 

The look on Jude’s face was priceless. 

“I’m half-dragon. You should’ve aimed for my head if you wanted me dead you moron.” Natsu says. 

Lucy giggles at the fact that Natsu called her father a moron.

Jude brings the sword up to swing at his head and Natsu just plucks it from his hands and throws it away, hitting some poor soldier in the helmet and knocking them out. 

Virgo and Lucy get grabbed by soldiers again so Natsu breathes fire to get them free. But while he’s doing that a few more soldiers stab him in his back and stomach. 

“Shit will you guys just quit that it feels weird!” Natsu exclaims and fired up his fist to take them down and that’s when one soldier gets a lucky stab in Natsu’s chest too. 

“Princess you and Natsu need to get out of here!” Virgo urges. “He’s strong but he’s also outnumbered!” 

“I know but what about you?” Lucy asks. “My father will kill you for helping me, I can’t just leave you here!” 

“Don’t worry! I’ll be fine.” Virgo says as she picks up a sword and grins.

Lucy smiles, feeling reassured that Virgo would be able to handle herself and she runs over to Natsu. 

“Natsu!” Lucy says as she runs towards him and he takes her into his arms. “Let’s get out of here!” 

“I was thinking the same thing.” Natsu says. 

And the next thing Lucy knows she’s being lifted into the air with Natsu. 

————————

As they fly over the trees, away from the willow tree and deeper into dragon territory Natsu notices that Lucy is surprisingly unafraid.

 “I thought you were scared of heights?” Natsu asks. 

“I can’t see how high up I am if I’m only looking at you.” Lucy replies.

Natsu can’t help but kiss her. 

————————

When they finally land at the Dragon King’s den, Igneel is there to greet them. 

“Greetings great dragon.” Lucy says and curtseys for him. 

“Lucy! How lovely it is to see you again!” Igneel greets. “I had a hunch that you were the reason Natsu was out today but I had no idea he would be bringing you to our den.”

“Natsu why have you brought her he-Natsu?” Igneel asks. 

Lucy turns around and gasps. She hadn’t noticed before because it was dark but now that they were under the light of the moon…there were red stains on his clothing and he looked paler than usual. 

“Natsu your wounds! I thought you said they weren’t serious?” Lucy exclaims as she runs over to him to inspect his injuries closer.

“I lied so you wouldn’t worry over me until we were safe. If I had said something sooner then you would have panicked and it would’ve slowed us down and then we would’ve never gotten out of there.” Natsu admits and Lucy cups his cheek and Natsu leans into her touch. 

“Who did this to my son?” Igneel growls. 

“My father and his goons.” Lucy answers with gritted teeth, her rising anger matching that of the great fire dragon behind her. 

“And why would they dare do such a horrific thing to betray me?” Igneel demands. 

“Because I was protecting Lucy.” Natsu says hoarsely and groans as Lucy sets him down into a more comfortable position on the ground. “King Jude was being cruel to her, he was going to try to take her away from me and give her away to someone else so he could expand his fortune. So Lucy fled here to find me so we could be together, but the King and his soldiers caught up to us and we had to fight our way out.” 

Igneel watches with concern as Lucy tears off strips of her dress fabric to soak up the blood on Natsu’s wounds. But there were multiple wounds, and she only had two hands. 

“Then they will pay for this!” Igneel declares. “I’ll burn them all!” 

“No! Please spare Fiore!” Lucy urges. “The citizens have done nothing wrong. Please don’t let them suffer just because of their King’s wrongdoings!” Lucy begs. 

“I understand.” Igneel says. “And I agree with you. I apologize for being quick to jump to violence but after losing Natsu’s mother, all I’ve ever wanted is for my son to be safe. And when you have powers like mine that allow you to burn away anything that troubles you well, it’s easy for that to become the default response. But after Natsu met you I realized that there are other humans like his mother that don’t see dragons as monsters that need to be slain.” 

“I’ve never seen your son as a monster. I met him after my mother died from illness and he brought such joy into my life by being my friend. And now he’s grown into the man I love. When I’m with him, I know I’m home. Anywhere else is hollow. And so with your permission I’d like to take his hand, wreck my father’s plans, and make Natsu my man.” Lucy says and smiles at him and Natsu smiles back. 

A look of pure joy spread over the dragon’s features and he looks at the lovers before him. 

“Oh Lucy I know how much my son cares for you. He’s already told me of his intentions to make you his mate so yes of course I approve!” Igneel says. “But first we should really treat Natsu’s wounds.” 

Lucy gasps. She was so caught up in the euphoria of being able to marry the man of her dreams that she completely forgot he was bleeding internally. 

“Oh my goodness! I completely forgot! Natsu I’m so sorry you must be in so much pain right now!” Lucy rambles and Natsu can’t help but smile at how cute she looks when she was worried over him. 

“It’s not that bad actually. I’ve had worse.” Natsu says with a shrug. 

“In this tower over here is where Natsu lives.” Igneel says and gestures his head towards an old stone tower on the edge of the clearing. “You’ll find some medicine in there that the dragon Grandeeney made to heal any wounds that a dragon or half-dragon might sustain.”

“Thank you. I’ll take care of him right away.” Lucy says and puts his arm around her shoulder and leads him inside. 

————————— 

As Lucy and Natsu sat on his bed together, Lucy takes note of how amazing this healing dragon’s powers must be. This medicine was a miracle. His wounds had stopped bleeding the instant she put the bandage with the magic salve over them. 

But other thoughts were crossing her mind. As she dresses his wounds in the dark room lit only by candle light, Lucy can’t help but feel a bit aroused. He was shirtless and her hands were all over his muscular torso, and she couldn’t help but take note of the strength those muscles conveyed. She wonders if he feels anything either. 

The silence starts to feel deafening so Lucy decided to ask a question that’s been on her mind for awhile.

“Natsu, now that we’re betrothed I think I should ask you, how do dragons get married?” Lucy asks. 

“They don’t.” Natsu says simply. 

“Oh...” Lucy asks unsure of how to respond. “But I thought you told me once that dragons mate for life.” 

“They do. Just not in the way humans do. Dragons don’t really have an official ceremony or anything like humans do.” Natsu explains. “When two of them decide they want to become a couple they just…mate.” 

“I see.” Lucy says as she dresses the gash on his left pectoral. 

The tension that was already starting to build between them had now fully crept it’s way into Lucy’s mind as Natsu mentioned mating. She had been thinking about doing this with Natsu for a long time. She does want to marry him after all, so she already found him attractive. But now, she had run away from her home, and the rules that came with it. She and Natsu had already promised themselves to each other with words, why not follow through with actions as well? 

“Well, weddings take a long time to plan.” Lucy begins to explain as she gently lets her fingers trail down his torso after setting the dressing. “And even if we were to have a wedding, it would probably be just your father’s clan anyway, since my father would sooner plot your murder than hand me over to you as a bride. He may even be plotting something to steal me away from you sooner rather than later. So instead of waiting for a wedding…” Lucy says, moving her gaze up to look into his eyes. “I think that we should just get married now. The dragon way.”

Natsu takes in a deep breath when he realizes what she’s asking. What she’s offering him. And Lucy could tell by the tent forming in his pants and his breaths becoming heavier that his primal instincts were starting to awaken. But Natsu kept himself in check. Sure he’s had these thoughts about Lucy before but only when he was alone, leaving him to deal with those urges on his own. But now she was right here and moving closer to him, with dilated pupils and his brain was screaming at him to just tear off her dress and claim her now. But he holds back. Because this wasn’t just some fantasy, this was real. This was Lucy, the love of his life and before he accepts her offer he has to be sure it’s what she wants. 

“Lucy are you sure that’s what you want?” He asks.

“Yes I’m sure.” Lucy says “We are in dragon’s land after all. And I’ll be living with your father and his clan. So I want to do things their way.” 

Natsu’s arousal builds even more as she takes his hand and places it at the top of the corset that was keeping her ample chest confined while her other hand slowly trails down his abdomen. 

“I love you Natsu. And I want you to claim me, if you want me too.” Lucy says. 

Natsu searches her face for any sign of unease or reluctance, but he only finds the same emotions he was feeling for her. Lust and love. And as she places her hand over the bulge in his pants, all doubt leaves his mind and he lets his primal urges take over as he cups her cheek to speak to her.

“Lucy my love you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Of course I want to claim you as my mate.” Natsu declares before tugging at the bow on her corset.

Lucy gasps as she feels the garment loosen before Natsu seals his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss as she unbuckles his belt and they proceed to undress each other, and make love not long after.

——————————

That morning when Lucy woke up she was still naked in bed. She follows the sunlight streaming in from the balcony, and sees her clothes scattered on the floor. 

Lucy felt goosebumps form on her skin as she remembered the warmth of Natsu’s touch from the night before. His hands hands were strong and felt rough against her soft skin, just like the parts of his body that had scales, and the contrast felt divine. He caressed every part of her body with his hands, and then re-traced his path with his mouth which had only aroused her more and encouraged her to explore his body as well, wanting to know him as intimately as he knew her as they consummated their love and became one. 

Her father couldn’t marry her off to anyone now. Natsu had claimed her for himself last night, and she loved every minute of it. She was his, and he was hers. Mates. And Count and Countess to the human kingdom, and prince and princess among the dragons. 

And right now her Prince was standing on the balcony, still naked as well. They were deep in the woods after all, it’s not like any passers by would see them. But then he turns around when he hears her stirring in bed. 

“Good morning my princess.” Natsu says and smiles. 

“Good morning my prince.” Lucy says and smiles warmly back at him. 

He comes over to her and leans down to place a gentle kiss to her lips. 

“Did you sleep well?” Natsu asks. 

“Yeah. I slept great.” Lucy says. “The bed was so warm with you in it.” 

“Well duh, fire dragon.” Natsu reminds her and Lucy giggles and kisses him again. 

Then Natsu’s expression turns serious. 

“Before you woke up, my father talked with me. He still wants revenge for what your father attempted to do to me, and what he attempted to do to you too.” Natsu says. 

“Oh…” Lucy says. 

She looks down at the blanket in-between them as she tries to think. On one hand she certainly agreed that something needed to be done about her father. But on the other hand, he was her father. 

“What does he want to do?” Lucy asks. 

“He wants to remove your dad from power.” Natsu starts. “And let you take his place.” 

Lucy perks up and looks at Natsu who was smiling with pride. 

“So I’d be Queen of Fiore?” Lucy asks. 

“Yep. And we don’t have to kill your dad. We can just lock him up in the dungeon or something.” Natsu explains. 

“Then you’d be my King?” Lucy asks. 

“King Consort, since you’re the one with the power but yeah.” Natsu says with a shrug. 

“That sounds great.” Lucy says. “Except…You and your father like to travel sometimes, go to other lands to train together…If I’m Queen then I won’t be able to come with you.” 

Lucy looks away sadly but then Natsu cups her chin in his fingers and tilts her head towards him. 

“You’ll never be alone again.” Natsu says and gently cups her cheek. “You’re the love of my life, and I promise we’ll always be together Lucy.” 

He leans forward and kisses her.

Lucy closes her eyes and melts into the kiss. 

——————————

When her eyes flutter open she sees Natsu’s face and smiles warmly. 

“Oh Natsu…” she sighs dreamily. 

Natsu frowns at her. 

“Uh, Luce you’re looking at me funny. Are you okay?” He asks her with a frown. 

“Hmm…” Lucy hums in confusion. “Of course I am! I’m with you my…” She explains until she notices his horns are missing, and that there are no scales on his body either. 

She reaches forward and feels the blankets and realizes she’s no longer naked in the expensive large bed she was in before, but wearing her pajamas while in a bed at the infirmary in Magnolia! 

“My…what?” Natsu asks, wanting her to finish her sentence. 

“My…idiot!” Lucy shouts and kicks him in the stomach with her foot. 

“Ouch!” Natsu yelps and doubles over in pain. 

“Yep! She’s fine!” Happy says cheerfully from the other side of Lucy’s bed. “You really had us going there for a second Lucy, I was worried that that bump on your head might have made you go crazy!” 

Lucy reaches up and feels that there are bandages wrapped around her forehead. And she winces slightly in pain as she touches the injured spot and remembers reality. She must have hit her head pretty hard in order to have envisioned Natsu as some sort of romantic Prince. 

“Honestly, I’m not too sure I’m entirely sane.” Lucy says. 

“That would explain why you kicked me.” Natsu grumbles. 

“Want me to do it again?” Lucy growls and Natsu yelps in fear. 

“Nope! I learned my lesson, please don’t hurt me again!” Natsu pleads. 

“Maybe I should still go get Porlyusica?” Happy suggests. “I mean, she’s mad at you now, but when she woke up she was looking at you like she was in love.” Happy teases. 

Lucy frowns at Happy but at the same time can’t help but blush as she remembers how she felt about the Natsu she met in her dream. I mean there were obviously some differences between the two of them. But now that she thought about it...there were a lot of similarities too. The Natsu from her dream may have been more obviously romantic but most of what he was saying to her and the way he was looking at her...the real Natsu did all of that too. And she loved him for it. 

And then it hit her...did she love Natsu?

“I’m sorry Lucy.” Natsu says softly and looks into his lap. “I said I’d protect you and you got hurt.”

“Well, you said you wouldn’t let the birds hurt me. And I got hit by a willow branch. So you didn’t break your promise. You’ve never broken any promise to me.” Lucy assures him.

Ever since they met in Hargeon, he had been the major catalyst for the events in her life. Both good and bad. And this job was no different.

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind. 

“I know but still, you got hurt because I was so busy keeping those birds away from you that I didn’t notice that damn branch.” Natsu pouts. 

“It’s not your fault. I should have been watching where I was going.” Lucy says.

“If I was with you you wouldn’t have had to worry about that. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I know that ever since Tartaros you get upset when I do that.” Natsu says and Lucy’s heart skips a beat.

So he really did notice how his year long absence had affected her...Who would have known? Certainly not Lucy. He really paid attention to her feelings like that? 

“And I don’t like it when you’re sad. It makes me feel weird, like I want to fix it and make you happy again as soon as I can. It’s easy when I can just punch whatever’s bothering you until it goes away. But it’s different when I’m the one that hurt you. It makes me feel worse because I never want to be the cause of your pain. I want to be the one that takes it away, or even better prevents you from getting hurt in the first place. All I want is to keep you safe and make you happy. But I failed...” 

The more that you say, the less I know. 

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Only the lovers in the books she reads say things like this. Maybe he wasn’t as dense as she thought? Did he know what love was? Did he love her?

“Instead of fighting for you I should have just been with you. I made a mistake and you got hurt. But I won’t make it again. I’ll be more mindful of you the next time we’re on a job.” Natsu says. “I swear I‘ll protect you next time.” 

“Natsu...we’ve been doing jobs together for years. Nothing ever goes the way it’s supposed to.” Lucy says and holds out her hand for Natsu. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Wherever you stray, I follow.

Natsu smiles and it warms Lucy’s heart as he takes her hand. 

“Promise that tomorrow you’ll wreck my plans again by taking me on some wild adventure?” Lucy asks.

“You bet!” Natsu says and flashes her his signature goofy grin.

That’s my man.

[startanewdream]

Summer Heat

Summary: James is late and summer heat always brings out Lily’s emotions.

Part of my Jily Lives AU, set during Order of the Phoenix and based on @secretsongdeer​‘s amazing prompt of “James or Lily is late from an Order mission, and the other is worried sick".

It turned out into this crazy emotional roller-coaster of Angst and Smut.

Rated M, so all below the cut or on AO3. Read at your own risk (but if anyone wants a PG version, just tell me that I can post it too :D)

_______________________

James is late.

It is not like it never happened before, it is not like every Order mission has a defined duration of time and it is not like he is on a particularly dangerous mission tonight, but still fear bubbles like acid in her stomach. He is supposed to be on watch-duty with Sirius, and while she trusts Sirius to guard him with his life, she also knows Sirius can be a little hothead too and Sirius hates to stay still for too long.

Also, when they are together, Prongs and Padfoot, things tend to escape control, even for a mission that is supposed to be only guarding a door.

Or maybe she is overreacting. Many simple things could have happened. Tonks got caught in her work and could not relieve them; someone decided to stop by the Department of Mysteries and they had to wait to get out. Still, Lily knows she will never get used to that feeling of waiting for him to come home safe.

Maybe it was the years of relative peace they enjoyed that have made her feel more unacquainted with that waiting. For the last fifteen years, James had not once taken a mission for the Order. Ever since Harry was born, they both had promised to concentrate their energy in protecting their son - and all they had done that first year was hiding, moving from a place to another, until Voldemort had finally found them and -

She blinks, deciding to not let her thoughts wander in that direction - in that horrible night -, and her eyes fall on Harry. He is sitting on the kitchen table, reading a muggle newspaper, his face closed and troubled.

That is not new. All summer Harry has been distraught, demanding they talk to him and yet refusing to say anything himself. Lily can read her son easier than she can read the book she is supposed to be currently studying, and she can see a storm brewing inside Harry, but he insists on staying silent. He hasn’t said a word about that night in the graveyard with Voldemort, nor about Cedric Diggory and not even a mention of whatever dreams have been tormenting him at night.

Her husband is late and her son is suffering and she cannot help any of them right now.

Her head hurts.

Somehow this feels worse than the first time, which doesn’t make any sense. In the First War, she was too young and inexperienced and no matter what they said to each other, they were losing - Dorcas was killed by Voldemort himself, Marlene and her family had perished in a fire, they didn’t trust Remus and they trusted Peter too much, and Harry was the target of a prophecy.

Now they are better prepared. Voldemort is still hiding and they know what he is after and that gives them an advantage. As long as they can keep Voldemort away from the prophecy, they will have more time to… She doesn’t know what they will do with more time. Convince those stupid politicians that Voldemort is really back? Gather more help for the Order? Prepare better her son for -

No. This is not Harry’s obligation, no matter what a stupid prophecy says. Voldemort is still human and then he can die like any other man. Anyone can kill him; she will kill him if she gets the chance. Not her fifteen-year-old son, who is currently crumpling the newspaper as if it offends him, tearing each page with particular vengefulness and throwing it in the fireplace to watch them burn.

‘Harry…’, she begins, her voice as tired as she feels, trying to ignore the buzz in her head.

‘There is nothing here’, he complains, still tearing the pages. ‘Of course, we could actually know what’s going on if we hadn’t cancelled our subscription of the Daily Prophet’.

Lily presses the bridge of her nose to see if her headache gets better. It doesn’t help.

‘We told you the Prophet is not reporting anything because nothing is going on’.

Except for the current attack on them - the silly remarks of Harry's instability, the cruel distortion of her story with James -, but she doesn’t say that. They will have to tell Harry eventually; she just never found an opening for it, because he is always brooding and upset and Lily knows that Harry will feel guilty for causing trouble when he hears it.

As if it’s his fault for witnessing Voldemort’s return.

‘How can there be nothing to report? With you guys all mysterious?’

‘We are not - ’, when Harry rolls his eyes disdainfully, she stops to control her own rising anger. It is not Harry’s fault that she is more stressed than normal today. Where the hell is James?

'Don't pretend everything is fine, Mum. I see you looking at your watch every five seconds. I know you are worried about Dad'.

She forces herself to breathe normally, even though she knows she won't deceive him. Harry and Lily always understood each other too well.

‘It’s just normal Order business’.

‘If there is Order business happening -’

‘There is always Order stuff going on, Harry. We didn’t stay doing nothing for all these years’.

‘You could have fooled me’, he whispers loudly enough for her to hear but to also pretend she hasn't understood him.

She shouldn’t take his bait, but James is not there and how can he be so damn late? She is fearing for him and also a little mad - why couldn't he choose another mission? One that he could do safely at home? And why did she have to stay behind? Someone has to look after Harry, sure, but she is as much capable as him of doing things. Next time he can be the one staying and worrying about where is she and why the hell she is late -

‘And what do you mean by that?’, she asks before she can stop herself.

Harry turns to really face her now. He may look like a copy of James sometimes, but the raging expression in his face is just like the one on Lily’s.

Like her, Harry’s temper rises too fast and too quickly.

‘I didn’t see your amazing Order when I was facing Quirrell. Or when there was a basilisk in the castle. Or -’.

‘Harry -’

‘And a great job you all did last year’, he adds, ignoring her, his voice raising. ‘That bloody Death Eater was just under your nose -’

‘HARRY!’

Lily stands furiously and Harry blinks at her, seeming both surprised and satisfied that she screamed at him.

‘You know, this, right now, is why you are too young to be involved with the Order’.

‘Am I young?’, he asks, baffled, crossing his arms. ‘How can I be too young with all the things that happened to me?’

‘You are fifteen and you don’t get it. Do you think facing Voldemort is enough? I’ve done it four times too -’

‘And I am the one with a scar! I am the one that gets stuck with sphinxes and dragons and that has to escape him over and over again, so no, you don’t get it!’.

She closes her eyes briefly and then she can see, as if she is locked on that moment, the memory of that night, that horrible night, of Voldemort raising his wand to her little baby, of her and James alone and helpless -

No.

‘What I get’, she says, forcing herself to calm her voice, ‘is that you are fifteen and you should be worried about other stuff. School, dates, your pimples. And I am sorry that things keep happening to you and I know it’s not fair -’

‘And still, you treat me like a baby! You don’t tell me anything!’

‘You want to talk about who is withholding information? How about we talk about your nightmares?’

Harry stands suddenly, making his chair fall with a heavy sound, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are blazing with fury and for a moment Lily thinks he will scream at her.

‘I am out’, he says instead, his voice trembling with cold fury. When she opens her mouth to argue, he adds: ‘In the backyard. I know I can’t leave this bloody house’.

He makes the house sound like a prison.

‘You know perfectly well why you have to stay near’, she reminds him, ignoring his bad language. Harry shrugs, indifferent.

‘Yeah, that amazing blood protection’, he scoffs. ‘Helped a lot last month’.

‘You are alive, aren’t you?’

‘But Cedric isn’t’, he says and more than the anger she can hear his sorrow.

Her annoyance suddenly vanishes, and she takes a step in his direction, but Harry turns his back to her and leaves her alone in the kitchen.

Great. Just all she needed. A grieving teenager son and a missing husband.

She points her wand around the kitchen, thinking of making tea for herself - and Harry when he returns from his walk around the garden. She knows her son. He will still be angry, but much less inclined to fighting again. He will accept her tea.

She glances outside the window, fanning herself with her hand. It’s early night already, but the heat did not wave. It's the hottest summer she can remember, which isn't probably helping any of them. Summer heat always brings out your emotions, her mother used to say.

And once more she feels that bitterness of worry for where James is and why he didn't warn her that he would be two hours late - he could have been drinking with Sirius right now as much as he could have fallen into a trap for all she knows and -

The thought makes her feel strangely cold and Lily shivers before she notices it's not only her mind playing tricks with her. Something is off. She can see her own breath condensing in the air. It’s eerily quiet around her and she can’t hear any sound coming from the street, nor the sound of the teakettle whistling - in fact, even though she is three feet away from the stove, she can’t feel the warmth of the fire at all. It is like there is an ice storm coming, inside the house, and she thinks she will never feel happiness again -

The realization comes to her suddenly and it helps shake her senses. Lily raises, gripping her wand in her trembling hand and she concentrates on one thought. Find Harry.

She leaves the kitchen, following Harry’s steps, going almost blindly to the edges of their propriety, close to the small woods that James uses to transform with Remus on full moon nights. It is dark outside as if the lights from the lamp streets cannot reach their house and the sky has lost all the stars. The despair threatens to overwhelm her and she takes deep heavy breaths, looking around - she can’t see them, she can’t see Harry, but she knows they are close… They shouldn’t be here, not here, not with their blood protection…

Except she knows Voldemort was able to touch Harry, so maybe it isn’t as strong as before… maybe Harry is helpless, and she will have to watch her son die before her eyes once more - no, she can’t think about it…

‘Mum!’

Harry’s voice breaks through her reverie and she turns towards the sound. Harry is running, coming from behind the old broom shed, his face pale and sweating. Two dementors are gliding behind him, and for a moment Lily thinks of silly horror movies, of how no matter how much the victim runs, the killer always catches it -

Harry screams for her again and Lily raises her wand, the spell ready in her lips, her mind focusing on protecting him. But Harry is still looking fearfully at her, his eyes opened in panic and it takes her a full second to understand he is not really staring at her.

But at something behind her.

The cold gets stronger than before and it is like a block of ice has dropped directly over her, almost making her heart stop beating altogether. It is not fear - it is the certainty she will never feel happiness again, that this is all useless. All she ever did was delay this moment because nothing could ever stop it - did she really think she could save herself? Or Harry?

The dementor is almost gentle as it grabs her, opening her arms and approaching her face. It does not seem to be in a hurry, and she doesn’t see the dementor’s face, because she thinks of Voldemort during that night. He wasn’t in a hurry either.

She can hear her own voice, how she pleaded and pleaded that not Harry, not ever Harry, they would do anything, her and James, because they loved Harry too much. And Voldemort had laughed, cruelly and happily, and told them to stand aside. But James and Lily had stood, their hands together, protecting their son as if their body shield would be enough - Voldemort had then blasted them out of the way like they were nothing and then he had marched to her son, his wand raised just like the dementor’s hand in her direction - and she had watched helpless, unable to stop, as he cast the Killing Curse on her son - and the world had exploded in a bright green fire and she had thought - she had believed - they all were dead… and Harry who was barely one-year-old, who had died alone because she couldn’t protect him…

But he didn’t die, a small part of her thinks, Harry is alive, your love saved him. And she tries to concentrate on this small hope, even though this time James is not there with her -

‘ Expecto - expecto patronum!’

There is a small wisp of vapour, a light that seems to flicker for less than a second, but her doe does not come out of her wand. This last effort used all her strength, however, so Lily drops her wand and the dementor is upon her now, his horrible mouth close enough to kiss her, taking away her hope and her soul -

‘EXPECTO PATRONUM!’

There is a flash of light and Lily is suddenly falling in the ground, the dementor dropping her. She raises her eyes to see, through her blurred vision, antlers hitting the dementor that was holding her - it’s a stag, she realizes, so James has finally come home…

But it’s not James. It’s Harry and for all they look alike, she never once mistook one from another.

Harry is at her side, his arms around her while he points his own wand to direct his patronus to the other dementors. His face is contorted with fury and fear and his arms are trembling, but Harry makes his patronus draw away all dementors, until his stag patronus comes back to them, circling them as if on guard.

‘They - they are gone’, Harry whispers and Lily knows he is right. The stars are shining in the sky again, there is a sound of life around them and the heat is back. She is sweating, but she doesn’t think it’s because of the summer heat anymore.

‘Thank you’, she says weakly, and when her eyes can focus on something, she finds herself staring at the bright eyes of the stag patronus he had never seen him cast before. Her hand raises, but the patronus dissipates in thin air before she can touch it. ‘He was beautiful’.

‘It is Prongs’, Harry says, his voice still very low. ‘Can - can you walk?’

She nods and accepts his help to stand up; he is almost at her height now. She had not noticed it before.

‘Let’s go back’.

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

Lily hates Grimmauld Place.

It is the darkest house she ever entered and she feels that the house hates her too as if every long-dead Black is watching over her when she is there, judging her, calling her a mudblood and how dare she enter their sacred house. All the pureblood air threatens to overwhelm her, crush her like a bug and she curses the place.

But for all she is unwelcomed there, she hates it more because of Sirius.

She knows Sirius hates that house that was never a home for him and she admires him for offering Grimmauld Place as a safe hour to host the Order of the Phoenix; she knows the place holds no good memories for him and she hears his bitterness whenever he mentions his parents. And Sirius is miserable all the time he is there; he loathes everything, from the house-elf he never wanted to inherit to his mother’s portrait that they didn’t manage to take down.

And an unhappy Sirius is never a good thing. She notices how he always drinks more when they are there in one of their meetings - something Snape always mentions - and how reckless he gets after staying there for more than five minutes as if he is still that teenager who once needed to prove himself so different from his family.

When she mentions it to James, he looks worriedly at Sirius, but tells her that everything is fine - but Lily knows it is not fine, because Voldemort is back and Harry is suffering in silence and everything they fought for in the last fourteen years is crumbling. And she fears that James wants to be a little reckless too. They went hiding for a year before the First War ended and she knows him - he hated standing still, feeling like he wasn’t doing enough, and he is afraid to have to lie low again.

And James always enjoyed taking risks too much - he would never do anything that could harm Lily and Harry, of course, but then things are different now. Harry is older and not a helpless baby and Lily agreed to watch over him, concentrating on more internal missions, all because he assured her he would not be in danger -

All these thoughts come back to her but Lily doesn’t say anything. She feels strangely detached, doing things automatically, without really thinking about it. Some part of her registers when she and Harry arrive in the house, when he offers her a piece of chocolate that she can’t make herself eat despite knowing it will help, and when she hears their laughter.

Sirius’s bark laughter and James’ the-world-is-a-good-place-come-laugh-with-me laughter.

The sound causes a wave of anger through her body and that almost wakes her, but the numbness is still too high.

She watches them entering the kitchen and their smiles dying when they see her and Harry, in the exact moment they register something is wrong. Harry is explaining what happened and James is at her side, his face pale - and she wants to cry, where were you?, but she still keeps silent.

She almost jumps when an owl flies through the open window - owls aren’t allowed, they’ve cut communication -, but it is only an official owl from the Ministry. It shouldn’t be bad - except the Ministry of Magic has declared war against the Potters lately, so it is not surprising when the letter talks about Harry being expelled from Hogwarts.

Harry looks heartbroken and somehow more afraid than when he was running from dementors, so that sparks some life in Lily. She raises, ignoring James’ hand extended towards her - she can’t deal with him, not now - and she puts her hand on Harry’s shoulder.

‘We need to go to a safer place’, she says, her voice rough. It’s the first thing she has said in the last fifteen minutes, even though she knew they had to move ever since she saw the dementors.

‘Grimmauld Place’, Sirius suggests and for once Lily doesn’t grimace at the mention of that house. She will go anywhere if it means Harry will be safe and that was the only place she thought of.

‘But - Hogwarts - I can’t be -’

‘Dumbledore will solve this, Harry’, James promises, and Lily sees his patronus already galloping and vanishing in the darkness outside. It’s a stag, as always, but this vision fills her with more violence than comfort and she ignores him once more when he tries to take her hand.

‘Go pack your things, quickly’, Lily tells Harry, placing a soft kiss on his forehead before letting him go.

‘Lily -’, she hears James calling her but Lily doesn’t turn around. Sirius looks from James to her and then back again.

‘I will go help Harry’, he says, hurrying after his godson and leaving them alone.

There is a moment of silence. Lily flinches when James touches her arm, and he doesn’t insist.

‘Lily?’, he asks again, his voice very soft.

‘Where were you?’, Lily whispers, still avoiding looking in his direction. ‘You were supposed to be back more than two hours ago’.

‘I -’, he hesitates and Lily knows he is considering lying to her in that one second it takes for him to keep talking. ‘It was a very good lead, Lily, I swear -’

‘Lead’, she repeats, without any emotion in her voice.

‘It was the best one we had in months - the sewers -’

‘The sewers? You left me alone to go on a chase for Wormtail?’

She doesn’t need to see his face to know she got it right. She can hear the heaviness in his sighing, the one that only thinking of his former friend causes him.

And she doesn’t need to ask him how the search was. James has been looking for Peter for more than one year now and he never got close to finding him.

He is a rat, she wants to say. You will never find him .

‘I will go take our things’, she says instead.

‘Lily - I am really -’

‘Not now, James’, she cuts him and she leaves the kitchen because she can’t stand to look at him.

It may not be fair, but so it wasn’t leaving her alone.

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

Dumbledore promises he will fix things, but the fact is that Harry has a disciplinary hearing and she can see real fear in her son’s eyes.

And not just that. The anger too. She hears him screaming at Ron and Hermione, obviously unhappy with the fact that he was alone all summer while they were together, no matter in a dismayed place like Grimmauld Place. Harry is feeling betrayed.

Right now, he isn’t the only one feeling like that.

Lily survives through the Order meeting barely registering what everyone is saying. She doesn’t participate in James and Sirius’ heated discussion of how the hell three dementors managed to pass their barriers to attack her and Harry, she doesn’t even acknowledge that Snape is for once glancing in her direction. They end the meeting rescheduling their patrol rounds and for the first time she submits her name, her voice daring anyone - James - to disagree with her participation; but even though she can feel James’ eyes looking intensely at her, he doesn’t say anything.

That’s for the best. She doesn’t want to hex him in front of everyone.

When the meeting is over, Sirius, obviously thinking he is being very nice, takes them upstairs to offer her and James the master bedroom. It’s a nice old room, even if a little dusty and dark, and she realizes that Sirius was late for the Order meeting because he had been fixing the room for them in whatever way he could.

A part of her thinks it was kind of him, especially because he must hate that room that belonged to his parents. Lily glances around, her eyes falling on the elegant canopy bed, but all she feels is loathe, if only by the fact that Walburga and Orion Black once slept there; she never met them and she barely heard the stories, but she saw how much they messed with Sirius to know she would hate them. The feeling would be mutual - they would despise her for her blood.

When she turns around, James is alone with her in the room, in front of the closed door. His expression is concerned.

‘Here. Eat this’, he says, offering her a chocolate bar. She ignores it. ‘You need chocolate for dementors, Lily, you know Remus -’

‘This is your fault’.

She hears her words but somehow it takes a second for her to realize she said them.

It’s irrational, she knows, because James wasn’t the one that sent those dementors she should be able to handle, nor he is the one that threatened to expel Harry from Hogwarts, and for one mad moment, she thinks he will argue with her. But James just blinks, his shoulders slumped and he nods.

‘I know’.

‘No’, Lily whispers, taking a step closer to him, her eyes ablaze. ‘You don’t get to self-hatred’.

James blinks.

'You don't want me to agree with you?' he asks, and Lily can hear the faint amusement in his voice, the one that always looks like an invitation for grinning with him.

Any other day she would accept it, but now there is only one emotion strong enough to break into her numbness: fury, senseless and overwhelming fury.

'You don't get to find this funny, James. You don't get anything, because you left us'.

He frowns and she sees a flash of hurt in his eyes. Good, Lily thinks darkly.

'I would never leave you -'

'You weren't there. There were three dementors and an underage kid but no James Potter'.

'So I was supposed to foresee it?'

'We all knew something was bound to happen. That's why we keep our eyes on Harry, isn't it?'

'It is not like he was alone - you were there with him!'

'Yeah, I was', she admits, defeated. 'And I was useless because there were dementors and you know what I hear when they are around? That fucking Halloween night, every time'.

'That is what I hear too'.

'And all I could think was that at least that night you were with me. We were losing and dying but at least you were there'.

'Lily… I was on a mission -'

'Oh, spare me, James. The Order comes first, we always agreed on this. But your mission had ended and instead of doing the right thing that was coming back to your family you decided to play the hero'.

He gasps.

'What? I wasn't -'

'No, you're right. It was not playing the hero - that’s Harry. You were on your crazy suicide revenge mission’.

'It is not - it was a good lead, Lily, I wouldn't go if -'

'Did you find him? Did you see Peter? Even a hint of him?'

He doesn't say anything, but she knows the answer in his resentful face.

'Your problem is that you forget everything when it involves him'.

'He betrayed us', James spats, venom in his voice. 'Then he bleed Harry one month ago and he held him and he would watch him die without saying anything. He. Betrayed. Us'.

'Yeah, but that's not what bothers you. It’s your bloody ego. It’s the fact that he betrayed you'.

James' eyes are burning now.

'Yes, it was me firstly', he concedes, agony and hatred in his voice. 'But he would give us all up because he never cared'.

'Taking him down won't change that'.

'And what do you want me to do?', James finally screams and she feels a dark satisfaction in making him lose control. 'Let him go?'

'I want you to care more about us than for your selfish need for revenge!'

'I already care!'

'Then prove it!'

She is screaming too and maybe even crying because her vision is blurred once more, but still, she registers that at some point they got closer than ever, their noses almost touching. She can smell his musky scent and she can feel his heavy breath over her face. James is angry, but so is she and Lily won't stand down, won't forget that while he couldn't stop what happened, he should be there, he should be with her.

He promised they would always be together - and his absence hurts and she is afraid and she hates him for leaving her. She only wants them to be safe. How can they be at war again? Why can’t they have some peace?

She hates him right now, but she hates more all the danger they are in and even then all that hate pales in comparison to how much she loves him.

'Fuck, James', she sighs.

'Fuck, Lily', he agrees, and then their lips are crashing and it's desperate and painful how she clings to him.

Her numbness is all gone, replaced by a familiar urge of James - of his lips, of his touch, of knowing he is with her. It’s been a long time since she felt this fear, this adrenaline rush after a battle or a near-death experience, but she knows how it goes.

His hands cup her face, his thumbs drying the tears that are falling there without Lily even realizing, and she feels locked in his arms - it’s a good feeling. James is home, James is safety and love. She wants more of him, all of James. She needs him.

And he seems to be thinking the same about her. His hands fall to her arse, to hold her up and press her against the door of the room, her legs going automatically around his waist for better support, their lips never leaving each other. She grips the hair at the back of his head, as if holding a lifesaver she can’t let go or else she drowns.

They are not teenagers and they are not in that mad sex phase of a new relationship, so Lily knows they should stop and recover their senses. But this was Orion and Walburga Black's room, she thinks incoherently, and they would never accept someone like her there - that was the prejudice that started a war that messed with their lives. And suddenly Lily knows what she needs to do.

Her hands are shaking as much as before, though for completely different reasons, as she fumbles with his clothes, opening his shirt so she can feel his heartbeat and the muscles in his torso. James is always so warm , much hotter than any summer heat.

His lips move away from hers and before she can complain, James is kissing her neck - or sucking it, she doesn’t know. Where his lips touch her skin she can feel goosebumps erupting and it is so fresh that she moans, even as he, always aware of her, keeps bending down his head until he is kissing the top of her breasts, any piece of skin her cleavage exposes.

She attends his silent request. Her hands leave his chest to take off her own shirt and bra, and as soon as she holds his neck, his mouth is covering her nipple and Lily arches her back as much as she can against the door. It’s cool , she thinks irrationally, feeling his tongue teasing her and feeling the wood of the door behind her naked torso. Good. It was too hot .

But she still needs more.

‘James’, she moans, and he stops to look at her. His hazel eyes are dark and for as much as she loves their natural colour, she loves so much when they are almost brown, filled with lust for her. She knows it’s a match for her own desire. ‘Kiss me’, she asks, and his lips find hers once more.

They are closer now, so it’s easy to slide her hands through his chest, following the path of his hair there, until she is opening his belt and his jeans and she is feeling him, sliding her hand through his length. He moans into their kiss and his hands let her down for just the seconds it takes for him to touch under her skirt and take away her panties.

‘I need you, Lily’, he whispers and it is so much a pleading as a demand; she is willing to accept both.

She nods and he raises her again, both hands now under her skirt, one holding her tight and another grabbing her arse, his fingers pressing her skin and she hopes it leaves a mark for tomorrow. She has been hurt and bruised in battles before, and because of that she loves seeing the soft purple of the places James grabbed her rough, lost in their moment together; these are the marks she is proud of.

His lips are once again on her neck, sucking the skin there (good, another mark), his body pressing her against the door and she can feel his hardness against her pelvis and her pulse beating down there.

‘James - please’.

He was never able to refuse her anything, not really, so James complies at once, his hand leaving her thigh just so he can help himself slide inside her - and it’s a familiar feeling that she can never get really used to, that of him filling her. She moans loudly and uncaringly, her hips trying to move for more friction and God bless James, he attends her wishes once more, moving in sync with her.

They are not young anymore and she knows they will probably regret this tomorrow, but right now she just tightens the grip of her legs around him, inviting him to go deeper and he groans, his head buried in her neck. It is a sound that reverberates into her, and Lily opens her eyes suddenly, her eyes falling on the master bed. It’s still a beautiful canopy bed, one that speaks of luxury and expensive fabrics, and she thinks briefly of how she hates that house, hates the people who lived there.

Toujours pur.

‘James’, she calls him, and he stops moving at once to look at her, breathing heavily. ‘The bed’.

If James finds her request weird, he doesn’t say. He takes her to the bed, laying her down gently, before standing to take off his pants. She moves to take off her skirt too, but he stops her, laying over her, his hand caressing her face to keep her hair out.

‘Keep it’, he asks, and then his lips are finding hers and she loses herself happily in the taste of his mouth. His hand bounds hers above her head, and all Lily can do is arch her back as he enters her again, his movement much more desperate than before and all she can do is meet each one of his thrusts.

She wants to giggle of pure joy, but James is still kissing her and as much amused as she is, she needs that kiss more. But still, a part of her sends a big silent fuck-off for Sirius’ parents in whatever hell they are, because there is a blood traitor and a mudblood fucking in their bed and somehow this makes everything better.

‘Lily’, he groans and Lily hears the warning and request in his voice. She frees her hands, but before she can do anything, James lowers his hand to touch her, on the soft wet spot right above where their bodies meet, and she lets out a moan that is lost in their kiss.

She knows he is losing control now, his thrusts erratic and needy, and that’s fine because she feels the same. More, she thinks, feeling the pressure building inside her, and like if he is reading her mind, James obliges instantly, his finger circling her faster, in sync with the movement of his body. More, James, she thinks one more time, and then she is over the edge, her world exploding in a blinding light that sometimes looks a lot like what happened in that Halloween night, but so different - it is colourful (not just green) and powerful and its ache is welcomed and her heart is beating so fast and so alive.

God, she loves James so much.

Almost like in a dream, she feels James pushing inside her one final time and then his body is shaking, his mouth leaving hers so he can cry her name like a prayer. After what seems years and seconds at the same time, his grip over her looses and she raises her shaking hands to cup his face until he opens his eyes.

His hazel eyes are still burning, but his voice is tender when he whispers: ‘I love you’.

She kisses him softly in response.

James rolls to lay by her side and, in a movement she has made thousands of times before, Lily lays her head over his chest, hearing his heart still beating too fast, while her hand plays with his chest hair.

‘I am sorry for not coming home sooner’, he whispers after a while, his hand caressing her hair absently. ‘You are right, it was selfish - everything. I just… I feel so guilty, Lily, it is my fault only -’

She knows he is not talking about the dementor attack.

‘I trusted him too, James. We all did’.

‘But I - I was the one that was his friend first, I was the one that thought I knew him for all those years - I would have died for him -’

‘You are not wrong for trusting people’, she assures him, finding his hand to grip it tightly. ‘Your faith - that is one of the most amazing things about you. He is the one at fault for not living up to your trust’.

‘I just think, somehow, that if I catch him… I can make everything all right, like if that night never happened, like -’

‘James’, she calls him softly, turning so she can look him in the face. ‘We can’t change the past. Let us live today’.

This makes a sparkling shine in his eyes.

‘I say we are definitely living’, he notes, looking around for all the mess of clothes on the floor, and she lets out an amused laughter that only James can cause. He touches her face, looking at her with undeniable tenderness and love. ‘I will be there next time’.

It is a promise and she believes him.

‘Already waiting for the next dementor attack?’, she asks playfully, and he kisses her on the forehead before they get up.

‘Harry is a magnet for trouble’, he sighs, just half-teasingly, as he picks up his wand to clean them up.

Still, she laughs softly, because sometimes laughing at their own misfortune is all they can do.

‘A little bit dusty here, no?’, James says, looking around.

‘Guess we will have chores to keep Harry busy for a while’.

‘I think he will prefer the dementors’, he jokes, smirking.

Their hands are clasped together when they descend the stairs, following the sound of people talking in the kitchen. Sirius is waiting for them, his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised, and he closes the kitchen door to muffle the sound.

‘How old are you?’, he asks grumpily.

‘Same age as you, Padfoot’, James answers easily.

‘And do you have a wand?’

That makes James blink, clearly missing the point.

‘Yeah, you know -’

‘Then why did you forget a basic Silencing Charm?’, asks Sirius, in a hissed whisper. ‘Do you know what I had to endure to go upstairs and cast it just so you wouldn’t further traumatize your son?’

Fifteen years ago Lily would blush at this, but now she just stares at Sirius with pure amusement.

‘That’s what godfathers are for, Padfoot’, she says nicely, raising on her tiptoes to press a kiss in his cheek, while James laughs at her side.

‘Do I even want to know what you were doing with that mouth, Evans?’, Sirius asks, looking at her with an expression torn between disapproval and respect.

‘Probably not’, she chuckles. ‘And it’s been “Potter” for a while now’.

‘Come on’, James says, coming between them because he knows they can lose themselves in their silly banters. ‘I am starving’.

‘Wonder why’, scoffs Sirius, but Lily can see a grin on his lips. Sirius always feels bad when she and James are fighting. ‘Hope you broke the bed at least’.

‘It is a work in progress’, Lily promises, winking at him, and they enter the kitchen.

[koolkat9]

Darling I’m in Love

Rating: T

Paring: Veggie Burger (America x 2p America)

Word Count: 835

Author’s note: Hello everyone. Surprise, surprise! Yeah never thought I’d be writing veggie burger or any 1p x 2p ship for that matter, but @modernday-jay and his followers have such good ideas. Normally I find it hard to stick with a fic that isn’t Ger//Eng, but this ask from Jay’s blog made me inspired to write something about it.

Summary and Background Info: So this is based on Jay’s groupie au which has Allen as this singer and Alfred, despite not liking the music they play becomes one of Allen’s groupies (and shortly after the only groupie) basically because he finds Allen hot. They basically become fuckbuddies, but feelings slowly start to emerge. While on a trip to Alfred’s home town, the two get into a huge argument. Allen tries to make up for it with a grand gesture only to have Alfred reject him. Allen has a show that night in Alfred’s town and although he’s upset and heartbroken, he still goes on.

He sang as if it was all he could do because it was. He may have not been able to block the memory of bright blue eyes, sandy blond hair, and those magical nights they had shared from his mind, but at least with music, he could pour all those feelings out. That always helped right? So why? Why did every lyric feel like another knife was being stabbed into his heart? 

It only made Allen play harder. His fingers dug into the guitar strings until it hurt. He pushed his voice until his throat was sore. He’d probably regret it later, but right now he needed to alleviate his heartbreak in some way and borderline screaming into the mic seemed to be a good idea at that moment. Screw proper form. Screw it all.

He hadn’t looked at the audience all night. He didn’t want to look and see faces of strangers watching him, devoid of those damn blue eyes. But as he approached the bridge, for one fateful moment, he looked up, and there before him stood Alfred, a sad smile on his face and arms crossed as if trying to hide himself.

As their eyes locked everything else fell away. The crowd, the band, even Allen’s own voice, all of it ceased. Allen was completely lost in his own little world that he didn’t even realize how everything literally stopped around him until he heard one of his bandmates ask what the hell he was doing. He wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing for certain, Alfred, here was all that mattered.

Without much thought, Allen gripped onto the neck of his guitar, hands shaking, eyes blurry with tears, and began playing a very special tune.

‘I don't think about you all the time

But when I do

It's a dream come true.’

Not once did Allen take his eyes off Alfred. He wasn’t going to let him fall through his fingers again. Neither did Alfred and instead, he began pushing through the crowd, getting as close to the stage as possible. If the tears weren’t falling yet they certainly were now. Alfred was there. For him. After everything they’d been through he still came. Allen felt as though his heart was about to burst.

His bandmates, following Allen’s lead, joined in as they entered the second verse. 

‘When I can't be by your side

It makes me cry

And wonder how long can I go

Without having you in my sight

Will I be alright?

Will I just die tonight?’

How true had that been? These past three days blurred together with Allen only crying, drinking, or sleeping to pass the time. With the pain that was in his chest, he surely thought he would die. 

Alfred was practically at his feet now, looking up at him with glossy eyes. It took everything in Allen’s being not to jump down there right then and there and kiss him senseless. But there was still so much more he needed to say. 

‘I know who I want to be now

Just your man

The best I can

So always remember what you mean to me

And hold me close

And don't ever let go’

Alfred broke into the widest and brightest smile Allen had ever seen. It made his heart leap right into his throat. As the song came to a close, Allen took the chance and jumped down to Alfred and pulled him into a tight embrace.

‘You've got me under wraps

Darling, I'm in love.’

“What? No Achy Breaky Heart?” Alfred laughed, though it was strained. 

Allen only rolled his eyes, but the growing smile on his face gave away his true feelings. Before he could make some annoying remark, Alfred pressed a hard kiss onto his lips, pouring all kinds of emotions into it. Allen pushed back with just as many. Hurt, anger, relief, happiness, and most of all love. 

When they pulled away (though they didn’t go far) there were matching smiles of relief on their faces. They cupped each other’s faces, wiping away tears, and just laughed, throwing a few kisses in between. 

“I missed you,” Allen eventually choked out.

“I missed you too.”

“I’m so sorry...it was...everything was…I shouldn’t have...”

Alfred lifted a finger to Allen’s lips. “It's alright babe. The whole thing was stupid. We were both stupid.”

“Al…” 

Allen, unfortunately, couldn’t finish his thought as one of his bandmates interjected with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Hey! Not that this isn’t cute but we got a show to do...or do you have to have a quick fuck first.” 

“Shaddup,” Allen hissed back.

Alfred let out a laugh, earning a smack from Allen. “I’ll see you after then pretty boy.” He gave Allen a smirk as a nice rosy blush spread across the singer’s cheeks.

Without a reply, Allen hopped back up on stage, grumbling all the way to the mic. But deep down, he couldn’t be happier. 

Author’s Note: The song Allen sings is “Darling” by Christian Leave. Jay was right, It’s such a good song for this situation and is just a good song in general (I was sure to add it to my playlist lol). Hope you guys liked it!