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valwentinefics · 4 years ago

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Instincts - Helmut Zemo x F!Reader (omegaverse) 18+

Plot: Y/n, an unmated omega, forgets to get a refill of her suppressants, sending her into her heat while at work. Luckily for her notorious criminal and alpha Helmut Zemo is hiding out in the backroom. (Takes place after episode 4 of tfatws)

A/n: First of all I’m sorry, second of all I’m sorry, third of all, You’re welcome. This is my first time writing omegaverse so it’s probably not the best and I haven’t read an omegaverse fic in a hot minute. Sorry my smut is always so short, I really gotta work on that.

Warnings: smut, normal a/b/o things, possessive dirty talk, mentions of omegas being harmed, mentions of fear of being assaulted. (if i missed anything please let me know)

As an unmated omega, Y/n knew well of the dangers of the world. Everywhere she looked alphas lurked around looking for their own omega, a rare thing to have in this society. Although omegas were coveted and prized they were still at the bottom of the hierarchy and were expected to be subservient to whatever alpha marked them, a thought that terrified Y/n. Stories of alphas that harmed omegas were sickeningly common, and with everyone plastering on fake kindness in hopes to place their mark on her neck, Y/n was terrified she would end up a statistic.

Suppressants were Y/n’s saving grace, an illegal method to mask her true nature from the world and pose as a beta where she could live her life peacefully, something she could never do as an omega. If she were to get caught she could face serious time in a correctional facility built just for omegas to learn their place in the world, and so every day was filled with caution and fear.

“God I look like shit.” Y/n’s heavy eyes looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the bags under her eyes deep and only looking worse due to the harsh fluorescent light buzzing away above her. The illegal suppressants had many side effects ranging from life threatening to mildly troublesome, but the one that affected Y/n most was the inability to fall asleep. Each night was spent tossing and turning, her body feeling restless.

Sluggishly Y/n grabbed her concealer, dabbing it on beneath her eyes, her hands shaking with exhaustion. She finished with a sigh, running her hands through her hair to remove any major knots. She didn’t have the energy to fully go through her hair, not seeing the point. She was hidden as a beta anyways, no one would give her a second glance. Y/n opened the medicine cabinet, looking for the white box of suppressants, only to not find it anywhere. Her stomach sank as she realized she forgot to get her refill yesterday. It would be fine though, she hoped. She had gone without them before and hadn’t gone in heat, surely it would be the same thing this time, but for some reason there was a nagging feeling in her mind it wouldn’t be.

Y/n grabbed her perfume, spraying it on herself. The scent was cinnamon, similar to her natural scent as an omega, but it had the slight acrid scent of being a perfume. She hoped that would be enough to convince the alphas she passed by that she was just a beta wearing perfume. It wasn’t something she used often, only when her overtired brain didn’t remember to get the refill of her suppressants.

“That's good enough, I hope.” Y/n mumbled to herself. She smoothed out her short sundress, the light flowy fabric ending at her mid thigh. It was her favourite dress, she felt and knew she looked cute in it. Y/n didn’t like to wear things like this often, she didn’t want the attention of anyone, but frankly she felt like shit and needed the joy looking nice brought her.

The walk to the flower shop had Y/n’s body feeling hot, however she assumed it was the warm weather, not wanting her paranoia to make her miss work. The flower shop she owned was Y/n’s only source of income and it wasn’t a bad one at that. It was common for alpha’s to come in and buy bouquets to give to the first omega they see on the streets in an attempt to woo them. That was another reason Y/n refused to accept her status as an omega. Every bit of romance was just disingenuous. Alpha’s only wanted to have the honour of being chosen by an omega, they didn’t care about who that omega was. However, Y/n was happy it paid her bills.

The day went by smoothly until closing time when Y/n turned off the open sign, the neon light no longer lighting up the darkening street outside. As she grabbed her keys to leave a sharp pain went through her abdomen, causing a gasp to escape her throat. She rested a hand on the painful area, eyes wide. She should have listened to her instincts, she should have stayed home, but she didn’t and now she was going into heat in her store. Y/n paced, her mind running at a hundred miles an hour as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn’t go home, walking would be near impossible for her with her heat approaching fast. She would have to wait it through in her shop with no relief.

“Oh fuck…” Y/n groaned in pain, leaning against the wall. She knew she had to find something to eat to get the strength to get through this. With shaky steps she headed to the back, her hand glued to her abdomen as if that would alleviate her pain. As she approached the door to the back room her blood went cold, her nose picking up the faint scent of an alpha through the thick door.

She debated opening it. Her instincts were telling her to open it and get his help with the heat, her brain told her it could be dangerous. Eventually decided to confront him, to ask what he was doing and maybe for his help getting home if he didn’t seem too awful. With her keys clutched between her fingers just in case, she slowly opened the door, her body almost melting at the scent that wafted to her.

A man dressed in a long coat with a fur collar stared back at her with shock, the scent of pine trees wafting off of him. “Omega…?” He spoke with a Sokovian accented voice. It took Y/n a few moments before the identity of the dangerously handsome man registered in her mind. She had seen him on the news. He was Helmut Zemo, the man who almost single handedly destroyed the Avengers.

Y/n shook her head, forcing herself to concentrate. “You’re Helmut Zemo… What- what are you doing here?” She asked, fixing her posture to appear assertive and trying her best to resist the urge to submit right there. A mixture of fear and arousal was filling her body to the point where she thought she might explode.

“So you’ve heard about me?” He tilted his head slightly. “I needed a place to hide for a bit, I’ve been scoping this place out. You’re the owner, Y/n, correct?” Y/n gulped but nodded, worried about why he was hiding out. “That doesn’t matter right now. Why are you here? It’s not safe for an omega in heat to be out in public.” He scolded as if Y/n didn’t know that. It was odd, having the notorious criminal seem to care about her safety. She wondered what he was trying to achieve, if anything.

“It wasn’t my choice okay?” She snapped, a wave of pain washed over her and she slumped against the door frame with a groan. Zemo got up, moving to her quickly but stopping once Y/n had flinched, worried he was going to try something.

“You need to get home, where’s your car? I'll escort you there.” He said, his voice was strained and Y/n’s eyes couldn’t help but land on the growing bulge in his pants. He was going into a rut which explained his current caring and protective nature. Her mouth watered at the thought of having his cock in her mouth but she tore her eyes away, looking to the side to avoid him.

“I don’t have a car… too expensive.” She groaned out, her breaths growing to pants as she started to overheat, fanning herself with her hand.

Zemo let out a staggered exhale, running his hand through his formerly perfectly done hair. “What’s your address? I’ll bring you there myself.” Y/n was impressed at the amount of self control this alpha had. Even as his rut was beginning he managed to stay calm and collected for the most part, but Y/n knew it was hard for him, sweat ran down his forehead as he strained to keep control.

Reluctantly Y/n told him her address knowing he was her best bet at getting home safely. A whimper escaped her throat as she felt her slick begin to drip down her thigh. She clenched her legs together, desire seeping into every part of her. She wanted the alpha’s knot more than anything she had ever wanted before. She could hardly focus on what Zemo was doing, not noticing he had draped his coat over her and picked her up until they were already out the door.

Zemo didn’t breathe as often as he needed while he walked, trying not to inhale Y/n’s scent as he moved at a quick pace, shooting piercing glares at every passerby that dared look their way. He felt protective over the little omega. His cock strained uncomfortably against his pants as his mind filled with thoughts of mating with her, but he pushed them back, not wanting to take advantage of her. Arriving at the apartment building he used her keys to unlock the door to the humble apartment, locating her room and placing her down on her bed. Y/n took off his coat and offered it back.

“You can keep the jacket for now, I’ll come back for it once you’re done with your heat.” He said, quickly turning around. Y/n’s hand shot out, grabbing his gloved hand.

“Please alpha, don't leave, help me.” She whimpered. Y/n didn’t know where that had come from, but she didn’t regret it, knowing it wasn’t just her heat talking. He was powerful, respectful, not to mention handsome. Everything a good mate should be, even though Y/n knew mating with a dangerous man like him was out of the question. Y/n found herself liking the man despite knowing what he had done and not knowing him long. She knew he would treat her well during her heat, if he accepted.

“Are you sure omega?” He asked, not facing her in fear that he would pounce on her as soon as he saw the desire in her eyes.

“Yes alpha, please…” Y/n whimpered again, giving his hand a small tug. “I need you”

That was all he needed to lose control. Zemo turned around to face her, stalking to the bed as he removed his shirt, straddling Y/n’s warm needy body. Her smaller hands reached out, undoing his belt and palming Zemo’s cock through his pants. Y/n couldn’t help the filthy thoughts that flooded her mind, desire for the dangerous man’s knot consuming her.

Zemo let out a groan, taking off his pants and boxers, letting his painfully hard cock free. Y/n’s eyes were clouded with lust as she leaned forward, mouth open and ready to suck it. He tapped the side of her cheek with his cock, running his hand through her hair and gripping it.

“No liebling, this is about you. I can wait for another time.” He let go of her hair and Y/n laid down, watching the alpha as he took off her panties and put her legs over his shoulders, running his cock slowly up and down her folds and coating itself in her slick, the tip teasing her as it came so close to going in. Y/n let out a little whine, letting him know she was growing impatient. “I apologize omega, it’s rude of me to tease.” He smirked before shoving himself all the way in easily.

Y/n’s toes curled as she let out a loud gasping moan, throwing her head back in pleasure as he began to thrust in and out of her, the position they were in allowing him to reach every part of her with ease. His hands ran up and down her waist as he let out a deep moan. Y/n’s eyes were locked on him as he fucked her deeply, causing her to let out a whimper of pleasure with every thrust.

“Look at you little omega, taking my cock so well.” He reached over to cup her cheek in his hand, rubbing circles into the soft flesh with his thumb. “Does it feel good?” His hand dropped from her cheek and began to rub her clit with just enough roughness to send her over the edge, a loud moan escaping her as she came.

“Yes, fuck! harder, please!” She said between moans, her hands tangling themselves in Zemo’s hair and gripping it as she panted.

Zemo moaned as he re-adjusted her legs on his shoulders, picking up the pace. “This pussy of yours, it’s mine now. I’ll fuck you through this heat and every heat you have next.” He growled, hitting Y/n’s sweet spot, making her cry out in ecstasy.

Y/n felt warm inside at his words. Her pussy clenched around his cock as the stimulation from him rubbing her clit and pounding into her sent her over the edge again, panting as she came hard. He was good at making her feel good, and for once Y/n was glad she was an omega.

“Fuck, you feel so good clenched around me. Do you want my knot in you, little omega? Do you want me to fill you up with my cum?” He asked cockily, receiving a desperate whine from Y/n.

“Please, please, please!” She begged, the only thoughts filling her mind were those of need for his knot buried deep into her.

“How can I refuse... when you’re asking so nicely, liebling.” He spoke between grunts. His thrusts slowly became more sloppy and deep and Y/n knew he was about to cum.

With one last deep thrust Zemo buried his cock all the way into Y/n’s pussy, his knot trapping the two together as he emptied his cum into Y/n. She felt so full in a good way, her breaths heavy with exhaustion as she internally frowned at the thought of Zemo pulling out of her. His knot alleviated the worst of her heat and as she laid there sore and sweaty, her now clearer mind had no regrets about what had happened.

Zemo pulled out after a while, his knot going away. A smile danced on his lips as he saw the cum dripping out of her as he pulled out his cock. Y/n’s eyes fluttered closed as she moved to a more comfortable position on the bed. Zemo grabbed his jacket from the floor, dusting it off and draping it over the omega’s tired form. Hesitantly he hovered over her before pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head, deeply inhaling her scent.

Not wanting to intrude any more, he got dressed and walked over to the couch, exhaustion filling his body as he slumped down onto it, closing his eyes with a smile. He could tell he would need all the rest he could get while he rode out the omega’s heat with her. He was so happy he decided to hide out at that flower shop.

Tags: @peculiar-monstar @lovelyzabrak-meadow @captainsherlockwinchester110283

#a/b/o #omegaverse #zemo x reader #helmut zemo #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo #baron zemo x reader #zemo #zemo smut

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blondiest · 2 years ago

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🥺🛒✨⛔️💖👀?

omg okay I don't know how to do submissions so Hopefully I'm doing this right @lunasink

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

Idk if this counts as a moment or interaction type, but a dynamic I deeply deeply love is exes. Writing don't say yes, run away now was so, so fun because there's that built in history that kind of creates a sense of yearning without having to really build up a previous relationship explicitly in the text.

this is another one that is probably inspired from real life too bc i've gotten back together with literally every ex i've ever had, at least briefly 🫣

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

This is a tough one bc I know there are some very common ones but I'm struggling to pin them at the moment... I really like intense emotions— guilt, love, regret, fear, affection, etc. I don't actually know if I go heavy on imagery to be honest— maybe sky descriptions? I tend to keep a lot of environmental descriptions pretty brief tbh. I also really like the mundane moments in life— laundry, food, studying, driving, etc. Also, for kissing scenes, talking against each other's skin and light biting are favorite descriptions lol

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Whew take 3 now I think, uh— I've gotten pretty good at laying out what I want a plot to look like! Genuinely I'm actually shocked that I have a 50k word fic bc that genuinely, truly felt impossible to me before I started writing for hellcheer.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

Oh God, so many. I keep a collection of fic ideas, some of which are pretty fleshed out and some of which are very, very short notes, and the vast majority of them never see the light of day. Actually, voted most likely is a repurposing of a fic idea I had in 2021 for a different ship, one that never got finished. One really early fic I thought of— I think even before I started putting out call it what you want— was a concept in which fem!eddie and chrissy meet in mandatory school group counseling bc both their mothers have recently passed away.

💖 What made you start writing?

Answered this one here 🥰 but tldr: couldn't find what I was looking to read ❣️

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

Okay, so— wlw hellcheer is the main thing on my mind at the moment for whatever reason (aside from voted most likely, which I'm steadily working on still!!). In particular, the one I posted a little of earlier is compelling me— I'm picturing Chrissy coming back from her first year of college, having dumped Jason months ago and trying to spend as much time outside of her house as possible to avoid her mother. She's working as a lifeguard at the local pool and spending time with her closest friend Naomi from high school, but when Naomi goes out of town for several weeks to visit family, Chrissy one night resorts to just spending the entirety of her evening after work in the library. She doesn't have a car, and doesn't want to call her mom, so she just starts walking home, but then runs into none other than Eddie Munson, the girl she tutored in senior year. Obviously they hit it off and start spending a frankly ridiculous amount of time together; then, one day, while they're smoking, Chrissy kisses Eddie. What follows is a whirlwind summer romance with an expiration date of the end of August, when Chrissy is due to move back to college. Or IS there an expiration date... 🤔

Thank you for the ask!! 🥰❣️

#submission #asks

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ultrahpfan5blog · 3 years ago

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Retrospective Review: Casino Royale (2006)

So after thinking about it, I figured that with No Time to Die coming out soon, the Craig Bond era Bond movies deserve a post per film. Casino Royale is the film that got me into Bond. I had seen some of the Brosnan films by then, but they didn't really stick to me much. Perhaps also because I was reasonably young when the Brosnan films came out. But Casino Royale came out during my teen years, where I was starting to get into more dark and gritty movies. To me, this movie and Batman Begins, are cut from the same cloth. Both rebooting characters that had gotten too campy in previous iterations, both brilliant origin stories, and both grounded in reality and gritty. Its no wonder that both version of these characters ended up being my favorite versions. Casino Royale is still easily my favorite Bond film to date.

Truthfully, to me this film is near perfection as an action-thriller. For classic Bond fans who have grown up with the franchise and want specific things like Moneypenny and Q and various gadgets, this film may not be as endearing because it very specifically goes away from being gadget heavy and doesn't give Bond a support staff other than Mathis. I think the most high tech thing in the movie was a portable defibrillator. But this film had me from the very beginning in the black and white sequence and how it showed Bond's two kills to become 007 and how it reimagined the classic opening shot of Bond shooting and the blood red soaking over the screen. I just new we were in for something special from the very beginning. What's amazing is the pacing of this film. This was the longest Bond film since OHMSS at the time. I have watched all prior Bond films and I have felt restless at times while watching them, but not when watching Casino Royale. There is constantly something happening and it keeps you engaged. Not once was I bored in the movie.

The action in the film is absolutely high class. I think its the best Bond action that I have seen. The most classic scene of course is the incredible Parkour chase. Its incredibly exhilarating and major kudos to the guy who did the stunts for the bomb maker. You also get a real understanding of what a brute force this Bond is. While the Bomb maker chooses to jump through the window, Bond will burst through the wall. The Bomb maker will climb construction rods, Bond will just drive a bulldozer and destroy the construction and climb up. When the bomb maker throws the gun at him, Bond just catches it and throws it right back. Little things like that give Bond a personality that is different. But this is only the first great action sequence. There is the Miami airport truck sequence that is also brilliant. You have to love the smug smile on Bond's face when the bomber accidentally blows himself up. There is the staircase fight which is brutal and visceral. Then there is final fight scene in Venice which is emotional and tragic and is the true making of Bond. In between it all, there is the Poker game which is surprisingly entertaining given it takes up quite a chunk of time. There are also some incredibly tense sequences which are laced with humor, like the Bond poisoning scene where Bond almost gets killed and then returns with a classic one liner to leave Le Chiffre dumbfounded. There is the torture scene which is hilarious because of how Bond reacts to the torture and eggs him on in a way. The film never lets up in the action and the thrills.

An enormous part of the success of the film is the casting of Mads Mikkelson as Le Chiffre. I had not known Mads from anywhere before this, but he is immediately compelling and enigmatic. More importantly, rather than just being an all powerful villain to foil, he feels like a human. The tearing blood is a great, sinister gimmick, but you feel like he is on the edge when he loses money in the stock market due to Bond. You feel his desperation in some of the Poker scenes, as well as when the african fighters find him at the hotel, and then when he is torturing Bond to find the location of the money. I am not sure whether I like him more than Bardem's Silva or not, but its telling that the best Bond movies of Craig's era have the best villains. This film put him on the map for me and I loved him as Hannibal, saw him Dr. Strange, and I want see how he does as Grindelwald in the next Fantastic Beasts movie.

However, what elevates this film beyond any prior Bond movie is the casting of Eva Green as Vesper Lynd. She is the best Bond girl ever put to film and the romance between her and Bond is one of the most heartfelt and tragic romances that I have seen. The chemistry between the two actors/characters is electric from their very first scene in the train. The film gives them everything. There are deeply intimate scenes between the two which are not remotely sexual such as the tender shower scene where Bond comforts Vesper after the stairwell fight, many instances of witty repartee, scenes of romance, and then the bitter tragedy of her betrayal and her death. Even her death scene is picturized in a way where you really feel the connection as you can tell that Vesper can't bear to live with what she's done. The film doesn't flinch when showing her drown so it engulfs the audience in the same horror and sadness that Bond is feeling. In general, you experience the same emotions as Bond does as you can't help but fall in love with Vesper and just at the point of happily ever after, it all turns to ash. Its a phenomenal character arc and it also does a great job of establishing how Bond became so cold. Its a fantastic performance from Eva Green, and yet another instance of an actor who put herself on the map in my eyes.

And then there is the man himself. Yet another actor who I knew very little about. At that point everyone thought Craig wasn't good looking enough, not tall enough, not charismatic enough etc... to play Bond. But boy did he just blow expectations away. He is my Bond for sure because his performance is just exceptional in every way. He is built like a tank and is a force of nature, but Craig brings a tender vulnerability, perfectly suited for a young Bond. He looks dapper, is charismatic, is great in the fight scenes, and you genuinely feel he could beat the crap out of people. As I have already mentioned, there are so many touches to his performance that is unique to him. The brutality he brings in the fight scenes, the smirk at the end of the Miami scene, the heartfelt tenderness in the shower scene, the twinkly eyes humor, the rage when he is betrayed, the devastation at Vesper's death, and then the coldness that comes after that. He gets to show a full range, and he delivers every aspect with perfection.

One of the major carryovers from Brosnan era, was Jud Dench as M. And she gets a lot more to do during the Craig era. She is phenomenal as she always is. The dynamic between her and Bond is slightly more stern maternal in the Craig era compared to Brosnan and their interactions are great. Jeffrey Wright brings Felix Leiter back into the fold for the first time since License to Kill and he's a welcome presence as always. Giancarlo Giannini is also pretty great as Mathis and I'm glad he came back in QoS. Jesper Christensen has a quiet presence as Mr. White, who makes recurring appearances in the future.

I feel not enough people give Martin Cambell credit for what he has done. Twice he has launched Bonds successfully. GoldenEye was really good and Casino Royale is just outstanding. I have never paid much attention to the Bond song but the song for Casino Royale is pretty great. Again its telling that the two songs that I remember from Bond movies are from Casino Royale and Skyfall. Anyways, Casino Royale is a near perfect movie, especially for someone who is new to Bond. It really launched Bond into the modern world and got him away from the cold war era type plots. If I had to quibble about something, I would say some of the scenes in the Bahamas are a little slower and maybe 5-10 minutes can be edited down but even those scenes are great character scenes and we get a new origin of the DB5. A 9.5/10 for me.

#casino royale #martin campbell #daniel craig #eva green #mads mikkelsen #jeffrey wright #judi dench #giancarlo giannini #007 #james bond #le chiffre #vesper lynd #felix leiter #mr white #jesper christensen

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neowinestainedress · 3 years ago

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DYNASTY ⮚ NCT

BEFORE YOU READ — WARNINGS

Hello, everyone!

I beg you to take some time to read these warnings before going on with the story since there are going to be some important and heavy themes during this journey.

First of all, English is NOT my first language, so there may be some mistakes and also I might mix British English and American English a lot. I try my best since I always hope to get better. If you see any mistake, let me know, politely of course.

WARNINGS:

Getting into the real warnings. Mental illnesses are a big part of this story, such as depression, anxiety, panic and anxiety attacks, and other symptoms. Not all characters sufferer from these but the main ones does and in general, all of them are not in a good state mentally. The most mentioned ones are panic and anxiety attacks (and other things that I made up just for this story that don't exist in real life but are similar, let's say.) There is going to be one explicit and pretty graphic self-harm scene (not described the act, but the aftermath) and in general self-destructive behaviours (taking an excessive quantity of meds, insomnia, some suicidal thoughts and similar). I'm going to put a specific warning on each chapter but still, they are going to be there for at least the first half of the story. If any of this trigger you, I advise stopping reading now. I also want to add that I documented myself using sites that seemed to be reliable sources, but some things might still not be very accurate. Once again, if you see that something is incorrect LET ME KNOW, misinform people is the last thing I wanna do, even if this is just fiction. At the same time, I remind you that I'm not a doctor so my knowledge is limited.

They are all dealing (no, they are not lmao) with past traumas, some of them are more affected, some others don't show it a lot, and others pretend everything is fine while is clearly not.

Some things that you'll find in the story are completely made up (es: memory waves) or taken from the NCTmentary videos. I also documented myself about the sleep stages, but once again, I don't really know if it's accurate. I studied something for an exam that was close to this field but my knowledge is not so big for most of these things to be accurate. Some things are made up for the sake of the story and everything that revolves around "the synchronization of dreams" and the "dream world", so please don't take things too at heart and expect everything to be realistic (or possible), some things are based on real brain function and then changed a little to make the plot possible, and since it's based in the future and they also have special abilities, I think we can let this slide. Also, some other functions of their brains are related to their powers.

I want to specify that sometimes the characters might say something against taking meds or against the things that they should do to try to get better but always keep in mind that it's just their point of you, what THEY say is FOR THEM. Just because the characters think that it DOESN'T mean that I stand by that, I just tried my best to enter their brain and empathize with their suffering and pain and how I built up their characterizations. If you are going through anything similar remember that you are loved and you can always ask for help.

There are also going to be minor violent scenes (fire, physical fights, training with guns, knives, and so on). Most of them are going to be flashbacks and not too explicit, still, I'll also put a warning for this. (excluded for the ones that are simply the training of the Fighters, you'll find out what I'm talking about if you decide to stay). The only explicit scene will be at the end of the story. These scenes might not be realistic but the only ones with amazing skills are the Fighters and there's a reason why. The others have average skills but they are not the ones that take part in this fighting.

As I said in the summary, the story takes place in an imaginary future (3020) so everything is different, use your imagination and think that science and technology made enormous step headed and it won't sound too absurd.

Occasionally is used strong language and profanities, curses, swearing.

There won't be explicit sexual scenes, just two implied. Just like anything else, I'll put a warning anyway.

Sungchan and Shotaro won't be part of this story, because I started it when Nct were still 21 and because I couldn't find a role for them, for now. Also, I don't really know them enough to feel inspired to write for them. Still, that doesn't mean I don't support them or don't consider them part of Nct or anything. Also, not all members are main characters, some are more present and some others are not, but keep in mind that at the end they are made up-characters and not the real NCT, so everything that happens or how often you read about them is related to the characters and not the actual idol. I DO NOT own them and I don't think they would act in the same way they act in this story, it's just fictional.

This should be all with the most serious stuff. There are going to be different couples ( M/F, M/M and F/F) but the focus of the story is not romance. They are just a big family (not blood related before some of you start to scream "INC3ST") and I hope that you'll love them, and their dynamics, as much as I do. I put so much effort and love into this project and I'm so excited to be finally making it see the light. I hope some of you decided to stay.

Also, since it might be hard to visualize everything and to help you with the plot I made a Pinterest board ( @junmoonlight) where you can get to know better the places where the story takes place and the characters. There will be four original females characters. The original characters don't have a fixed face claim so you'll find different people in the boards just to give "the vibe" I think they have. You will also find pictures of them in the next chapter but you can imagine them how you prefer, their features are described in the story as well, anyway. There is also a playlist, give it a listen to get more in the mood of the story. (next chapter) If you don't find them you can go on my Tumblr account and you will find the direct link.

As I already said the story is completed, I'll publish a chapter every week. If I can I'll try to set a day and always post on it, it'll probably be more complicated once I'll start University again / when I'll have exams in September. (I still always check before posting and edit everything just to make sure everything is okay.)

I’m also posting this on wattpad but nowhere else. It’s forbidden to copy or steal my work, so if you see this anywhere else let me know because that’s not me.

That's it, love you all, comments are always appreciated because they motivate a lot and also I'd love to know what you think about the story as it goes on.

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boogiewrites · 4 years ago

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Burning Star

Chapter 1

Characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian / Reader / You

Summary: Din Djarin is a long-time associate and friend. When faced with the truth about the creed he's taken, doubts begin to grow in his mind about his choices. He comes to you, looking for a confidant and he finds more than he bargained for. Begins latter part of S2, porn with plot. A growing romance between two characters that thought of themselves as solitary creatures now wanting to no longer be alone. But with The Mandalorian being who he is, things can never be so simple.

Warnings/Tags: Sexual Content. Dry humping. Confessions of feelings. Hurt/Comfort. Touch Starved.

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You couldn’t recall the exact BBY you’d met The Mandalorian. But then again, you weren’t even sure of your birth year, so dates tended to blend into one another in your memory. You recalled every encounter though, every mission he’d asked you to assist him on, the times you’d healed him and his ship, and especially the time he’d come to your planet for refuge with a strange but endearing little green creature. Your small, backwater planet didn’t have much. But that was one of the main things that had drawn you to it. Your parents were nomads, and you’d adopted the same after their death. So you made yourself a home on a green little planet after years of travel. It homed tiny hubs for weary travelers dotted along with the mountainous surface. But the one they called Mando always came to yours.

You had entertained the idea of becoming a Mandalorian after your parent’s death. They were prospectors, planet-hopping and hoping to make a fortune. On one expedition the Imperials decided the planet you and hundreds of others were on was now theirs for the resources. If you want to call it luck, you did live. You were taken in by an orphanage, one of many overrun with children just like you. You were full of anger and hurt and wanted revenge.

You were caught one night, trying to leave, and a woman fatefully saw you and brought you back in, having the first real heart to heart you’d had in your life. With tears in your eyes, you said you wanted the people who killed your parents, dead. You didn’t see this as unreasonable and you still didn't truthfully. You had read about The Mandalorians and were going to join them you’d told her. You were going to learn to fight and be a warrior and take your revenge. Young and full of rage, this was the only thing that made sense. But this woman, who had been watching you knew better than you did. She saw your softness, that capacity for love and sensitivity, and stopped you.

“Do not let their hate make you hard. It’s what they want. You will act recklessly and in their interests with hate in your heart. The only way to defeat evil is with kindness and love.”

It didn’t make sense at the time and when you were in a heated mood you liked to act like it still didn’t. But she was right.

You had previously spent your days reading and learning, drawing the various landscapes your parents took you too and trying to befriend the local fauna. You were a curious child that grew into a curious adult and you had fought hard to keep that sensitivity the woman told you of. So far, it had served you well.

This didn’t mean you didn’t fight. You had to to survive, but when the opportunity for kindness arose you always gave the other being a chance. But if they betrayed that trust you killed them. It seemed fair when it all came down to it. Philosophically speaking, anyway.

You had settled a store for supplies on a long-abandoned mining planet where a nearly extinct mutated species of Nexu lived in the caves under the planet’s surface. You’d protected them for generations now and they trusted you. But they were deadly to anyone else. There were rumors of the mines not being empty, of treasures left behind because they were too tricky to extract. You knew this wasn’t true. You and your toothy, furry associates had explored every bit of the caves that you could find. But that didn’t stop the desperate from trying. This was unfortunately the root of most of the violence in your life. At least you were protecting others in the meantime.

Maybe that’s what drew your Mandalorian to you. He had taken one way, The Way, and you had taken another. You saw in each other what you could have been. He’d given in to his anger and rage when he was young, and you had learned to see past yours. You had the empathy that came from years of self-reflection and control. You had taken different paths, and you both found what was missing in each other. You had the excitement of helping him on quarry hunts on a handful of occasions and he could hide and mend when needed. It was a balance, much like the force you’d read about, and it fell into place without much effort.

Wasn’t it the way that days that began like any other would lead to things you’d never expected? This day was no different. You had previously been most excited about the stew you’d been brewing for the second day, taking your sweet time with an old recipe you’d found in one of the books one of your neighbors had given you. The term neighbor is used loosely as it would be a day's walk, at the least, to the closest person.

The excitement sparked inside your chest as you went out to greet whoever happened to be landing in the field by your settlement. Then you saw the relic hovering above the broken blades of grass. You hadn’t seen a Razor Crest since his and it was easy to know who was going to come off the ramp when it happened upon your humble patch of the planet. You shield your eyes from the burning sun, close this time of the year as the glint off his Beskar armor sends a shock to your eyes.

It was a relief to see you, he thought. Something familiar, consistent, and warm to come back to after the turbulent journey he’d found himself on with the child.

“Hey, stranger!”You call out loudly, waiting for him to be closer so you didn’t have to shout and scare the foul in the surrounding trees. “I know it’s not repairs bringing you in. Your ship is shining like the Bright Star it’s in such good condition. You been on a vacation or something?”

He knew you were joking, his eyes relaxing under his helmet even though you couldn’t see. “Just got back.” his voice hits your ears, the gritty muffle of mechanical filter making it feel remote. You let him approach you, before reaching to hug him. It was something he’d had to get used to, and something you insisted on. After growing close during your time spent on his ship, the trauma bonding of violence and high stakes forced intimacy between two otherwise solitary creatures. For as long as you spent apart, the time picked up where it started when you came back together. Almost dying is hard work, and saving another from it tends to fasten the bond between people with surprising speed.

You had never shied away from him, he’d never given you a reason to. You approached life with an open heart and only shut it to protect yourself when needed. The contact felt soothing despite his hard outer layers. Both physical and figurative. A wrap of strong arms around his helmet, the weight of someone against him, a slight tug down from the height difference. It all felt very sincere, very human to him. At the moment that’s all he was certain about. The helmet hid the troubled eyes that would’ve given him away, and he found himself thankful for it.

“Always good to see you, Manny.” you give him a good squeeze, a kiss to the helmet that you polish out, cooing up at him with attentiveness. You’d refused to call him Mando any longer after one particularly heinous mission. Calling him something everyone else did, something so generic, didn’t fit. So a pet name it was. He’d never had one before. He secretly preferred it. “This Beskar keeping you safe?” you ask, buffing the spot with your sleeve and then patting his chest plate.

“Yes.” he nods. “Except for all the people trying to kill me for it.” You laugh and pat his hard head.

“Can’t blame them. Stylish... strong... beautiful. Just like you, huh?” you give him a wrinkled nose snort and you hear the grunt of amusement and note the subtle nod.

“What I’m best known for. My looks.”

He spoke with such a monotone delivery that his jokes might’ve not landed to someone more fearful and not as knowledgeable of the Mandalorian's personality under all that flash. “Where’s your little guy?”

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth than a gurgle and chirp from a perfectly him sized sack hanging off his shoulders appeared the little green wrinkly friend. “Always close by. Except when I tell him to be. Then he prefers to wander.”

“This goo ball wouldn’t be bad would you?” he tilts his oversized ears and blinks at his father figure as if he’d brutally insulted him. “Never.” you coo and give him little rubs under his jowls. His eyes shut and he happily soaks up the affection. “C’mon. Let's get inside. I bet you’re hungry.”

“He’s always hungry.” a slightly disgruntled Mando grumbles behind you.

“Sounds like you need to eat too.” you retort, hears his heavy footsteps behind you as you enter the humble building you’d built. It was made from the trees that used to fill the little clearing where the landing pad and accommodations were now. They grew fat and had many low, heavy limbs, perfect for construction. The floor was wooden, the walls a mixture of found metal, clay, and beams, same as the roof which made a lovely sound when it rained and kept the harsh seasons out. Dried flowers and herbs hung from low rafters, all part of the long list of things you did to keep yourself busy. You loved making, and your space reflected that. Despite it not being used by anyone but yourself that often, you kept it clean. Shelves and bins as you entered, a small counter for business off the side, a few small tables and chairs on the other side of the large square space with a small kitchen and refresher through doors on the far wall. It wasn’t much, but you’d made it all and it’d served its purpose thus far.

You sit the child down on a table with a cushion in it, letting his round head reach just over the tabletop. He reaches for the flowers in a bottle while you speak and Mando keeps the child's hand from breaking anything.

“Here you go. Been simmering for two days. Broth, meat, and some herbs and veg from the garden. Doesn’t get better than that little one.” You hand him a tiny spoon you’d carved for his equally tiny hands and he makes a confused sound.

“She made that for you, remember? Be nice, use your manners.” he motions towards it with a nod. You watch the child struggle for a moment before giving up and raise the small bowl.

“That works too.” you grin. “You want some? You could get the broth through that absorption accessory I made you.”

“It was destroyed during a mission recently.”

“Ah.” you nod and purse your lips. “I think I have parts to make another.”

He was used to paying for things being made for him. But you and your hobby of tinkering in a little bit of everything had led to a few things that were one of a kind. You’d made a long device that could fit under his helmet to allow liquids to be consumed without removing his helmet. He thought it was thoughtful but it was purely selfish as you were tired of him not eating your food. Before, you had bartered to eat together in separate rooms so you could get feedback. He wasn’t very good at it. Eating to live was his main purpose of doing it at all, not like you that lived to eat.

“Thank you.” is his quiet reply. There’s an easy silence watching the child burp and gulp and making a mess of himself in the process.

“What brings you in this time? You need me to open up the hut? I’ve still got fuel.”

“I’ll refuel before I leave.” You were used to his pauses, but something felt different, you could feel the consideration for his words churning in the silence. “I came to speak to you about something.”

“I can’t tell if this is good or bad.”

“I’m not sure myself.”

Your brow furrows and you lean across the table to engage him. “In trouble again?”

He is still and quiet for another beat. “I found other Mandalorians.”

Your eyes grow wide, “Oh.” you process the information, your surprise clear on your face, you had never been good at keeping control of your expressions. “Is that... not good?”

“We found a common ground and helped each other. But I feel as if I have more questions than I did before. I was so certain before of my standing within the Mandalore creed. I was raised by it, swore to it. And now...”

“What happened Manny?” you reach across and put your hand over his, the child coos at the action. The child could feel emotions, pick up on non-verbal things others couldn’t, and he knew when you were around, his protector was much happier.

“I come from a segment of Mandalorians that broke away from society. They have very different views of The Way. They told me I belonged to a cult of religious zealots.”

“Wow. They didn’t sugar coat that at all did they?” you pat his hand and try to not come off as condescending about it.

“I was not aware of this. This… difference.” you give him a sympathetic smile even though you aren’t sure if he’s looking at your face.

“What do you mean differences?”

“As soon as I met them they removed their helmets.”

“Oh well, yeah that would…” you nod, “That’s a big difference.”

“Have you read about the Children of the Watch? I know you were fond of reading of Mandalore as a child.” he asks with a touch of warmth to his words, as if it made him proud to say it about you.

‘A bit yes. There’s not much about them out there. They’re very strict and secretive. They didn’t want the progressive Mandalorians corrupting what they saw as the true Way. You all believe in being warriors and protecting what’s yours. The helmet thing seems to be the biggest deal.”

“It’s given me… concerning thoughts.”

“Do you mind if I give my opinion on it?”

“That’s what I came for.” his words made you feel special, like you mattered. They didn’t have the tainted burn of someone that wanted to use you or what you for their gain. He came to you to talk. You were flattered.

You turn your body to face his direction, both hands on top of his large, still armored one that he stared at for a moment while you spoke. Watching your hand's flowery movements to accompany your points broke his concentration on them. “I believe this equates to my discovery that I’m not human.”

His attention is grabbed, head swinging up and the child taking notice.

“I am mostly, but I have Cathar in my bloodline....”

It made sense, he thought, he pieced things together, your angled golden eyes, the large swell of hair you styled in various ways, sometimes wild and free and sometimes braided for more function when fighting. Your nails were long and sharp, your teeth a bit pointed as well, he’d never noticed if you could retract them, he thought you’d styled them in that way. Most importantly he could see the strength your ancestors had instilled in you. Even now. You were fierce, proud, loyal, and passionate. It explained your quick temper for those who harmed others for their selfish benefit. If someone had only glanced at you, human would be the general assumption. But if someone took the time to know you as he had, it was easy to believe there was something else in your blood.

“I grew up with what I assumed were humans, but I’ll never know that now. I could’ve been a foundling for all I know. So I had this loyalty to them, what I thought was a bond, a call to be a part of that. But once I came of age and... things started to appear a bit more complicated I went to someone to see what was wrong with me. Turns out nothing, I’m just not human.” you chuckle and shrug, recalling your awkward memories. “I was then left with the questioning of where my loyalty lies. Who was I? Was I Cathar enough to call myself that? Was I human enough to remain within that species, to live and love and fight with them? I was missing such a large portion of who I was, in my blood, I was someone I’d never known. I had so many things I might’ve missed out on you know? Hunting, hierarchies, mating, having family, a pride. We were known for litters, did I have siblings?” you sigh and you feel the sadness well up as it always did when you ponder the unknowns of your existence. “I digress… what I have concluded, and you may take into consideration is that you are in fact, both. Neither is more or less important. They are born of the same thing, they were once one single unit and all future and past components of Manda. You have your war gods, so do they. You have your morals, your duties, your... Way. Even if you were not a Child of the Watch, if you broke those creeds they specified, you are still a Mandalorian. You are not what you speak after all, you are your actions. Both sects believe neither to be a part of the other, but yet they helped you? You help your fellow Mandalorian. It is only a title, The Way is beyond titles, Manny, you know this.”

“I did not know that about you.” was his response.

“There’s far more we don’t know about our fellow man than we do know.” you smile at him and pat his hand. “You are usually quiet and prefer not to discuss frivolous matters. So I don’t bother you with trivia about myself.”

“I don’t believe that you or your beliefs are frivolous.” He pauses a moment, looking at your hand before placing his on top of yours. Both of his now tentatively trying to comfort yours. He didn’t show physical affection, it wasn’t natural to him. You took notice but kept your eyes on the way his hand gently stroked your own as he tried to elaborate the best he could. “You are... very well-read. An�� admirable warrior of high morals. Your ideas have helped me with this. I still have concerns...questions. But for the first time since I learned this I feel… better understood.” You could almost feel the pain of him pulling those words out himself to give to another. This wasn’t his strong suit and you knew it. Was it some of the most endearing conversation you’d ever shared? Yes. Did it make your chest ache just slightly with the sweetness he was presenting even though his eyes were hidden? Also yes. He must be hurting, truly upset, and overwhelmed to try to share the burden of it with someone else.

You look back up to him and hold his hands tightly. “You’re very welcome.” you share a connected moment, eyes to the dark void of his visor as your hands move softly and slowly within the others’. “Would you prefer to continue talking about it? Or would you rather us take one of our walks? I think a break might help clear your head.”

“I think you're right .”

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You took the opportunity to carry about the child, stopping to let him feel leaves and touch branches, pinching tiny bites of native fruit for him to experience. It was lovely, the scenery and the company. You kept the conversation light, talking about the books you'd read, the things you’d made, how the local Nexu’s were doing, and what the former guests had been up to. He’d met many of the foundlings that had eventually found their way to you. They had been in the same orphanage as you had. He’d scared most of them, and you couldn’t blame them, but he had always asked how they were when you spoke regardless. The child to him was the first foundling he’d taken in, lived with, cared for, and protected. You had helped with the younger children at the orphanage as you grew up and had taken in a handful over the years. And as children did, they would leave once they felt they were ready or the itch to be free came. You were concerned about how your Mando would take losing his little guy. You could tell they had a strong connection. You walked back both holding one of the outstretched arms of the very slow child, you could see how it was easy to be swept up by the little creature.

You had him care for the child, readying him for bed and getting what was needed out of his ship before locking it down and coming into the small clay and brick temporary home next to yours. It was modest, like yours, built from the clay in the hills you’d gathered yourself and decorated with various stones and tile. It was more than enough compared to what he was used to. A small room for the child to sleep, tucked away safe and cozy and you once again held the father figure and wished him a goodnight up against the cool metal of his helmet. He thanks you for your help, as he always does.

You tell him not to mention it, he’d do the same for you, as you always did. The parting goodbyes were always rather special and tender to you. He would tell you he hoped you found yourself in the favor of the maker, to be safe, vigilant, and that he would see you again. He’d always kept his promise.

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Going without sleep wasn’t something new for him. So sitting in the light of one of the four moons in the sky wasn’t exactly unexpected when you saw it from the dark interior of your home. He knew you were there. He had detected the movement in the building with his helmet without even looking in your direction. He sat on the stone stoop outside, helmet slowly shifting between looking down to the dirt path in front of him and up into the bright sky. It was the only glint off him from the moonlight, he was without his usual covering of Beskar armor on the rest of his body. He was in his black fabric shirt and pants, odd to see him without the visual breaks the shapes of his armor made. He still had his boots and his helmet on. You had yet to see him without them. You put on a robe to cover yourself in your summer-light sleeping shift and decided to see if you can be of any help.

He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or more anxious at the sight of you. He felt naked suddenly, despite all of his body being covered except his hands. He became hyper-aware of the small patch of skin around his neck that was uncovered, the wind tickling and reminding him he was in his most exposed state around someone in decades. You looked soft as you take slow steps towards him across the grassy garden between the buildings. It wasn’t just your loose hair, the free, flowing fabric showing skin he didn’t recall seeing before. The glow of the moon lent him to think he could see the energy around you as you approached and it bounced off your skin. But unlike The Way he was taught, he didn’t think less of you for appearing delicate. He knew better, but it seemed to help make him feel more at ease in his state of what he would call undress.

“Hey Manny.” your voice was considerate like a mother's and full of affection he didn’t feel he deserved. “Would you like some company?” you ask, tilting your head and holding out a small cup of cold liquid down to him. “Brought tea.” you mumble before moving to stand near him, the edges of your robes reaching out to caress the shaft of his boot on occasion.

With his head low, shielding his chin from your view he takes a sip. At this point in his inner monologue, he didn’t have it in him to ask you to turn away while he drank, hiding in the shadows was good enough.

“Put the kid to bed but you forgot to put yourself down too?” you give him a sleepy smile. You hear a long exhale from the filter in his helmet. “Still too much going on in your head to sleep, huh?” you say with a nod, already knowing. You sit your cup on the corner of the small stone landing in front of the door. You kneel before him, settling in and studying him dutifully. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before, and you were mixed on your decision about how to approach him.

“Yeah. Still too much.”

“I’m all ears if you want to spill.” you offer with upward palms.

“I don’t want to keep you up. You should go back to bed. You were resting before you saw me.”

“And now I won’t be able to go back to sleep until I know you’re okay.”

A small grunt of acceptance comes from the helmet. “I feel angry and it confuses me. I shouldn’t be angry. I’ve made my decisions. Most a long time ago. But I am. I’m trying to practice humility, acceptance. But there’s only anger and this feeling of being betrayed.”

“That sounds normal to me.” you nod in support, thankful he was finally sharing with you what was going on in his mind. You’d had glances inside before, stories he’d told, where his morals lie, but this felt different. “They did help you. Maybe it’s good to focus on that?”

“I’m not angry at them.”

Your brow shows your confusion.

“I’m angry at the Children of the Watch.”

That was different. You understood him being angry at those that called him a zealot and dismissed his beliefs. Despite them being so similar.

“No matter how small of a part of my creed may have been a lie. It was still a lie. Now I wonder what else was a lie. None of it? All of it? I’ve given my life to this.”

“It’s not... simple.” you offer gently, eyes to the ground, not wanting to antagonize him.

“No. It’s not.” you let him think, studying his bare hands. It gave you plenty to do in the downtime. You’d seen bits of him before when healing him, but you couldn’t recall if you’d seen his hands. The warm brown skin was marked with light and dark scars alike from the years of abuse his body had taken. They were bigger than yours, more square and sturdy in comparison. “The things I’ve sacrificed for a lie.” it was almost a hiss, and you feel the burn of it in your chest for him.

“I know it’s not my apology to give,” you say quietly, rising on your knees to touch his forearms, suddenly aware of the softness and warmth underneath your hands as you touched him. There were no bracers to block you or worry about activating, there was just a man under there after all. “But I am sorry about how much this is upsetting you.”

“You are never a source of upset, Jaira.” Your name came off his lips like a whisper. He had so seldom used it. He wanted to reach out and touch your hands, but the thought of skin against his made him more agitated in multiple ways, both good and bad. Your expressive face told him you had known this but thanked him for the kind words all the same.

“Nor you to me, Manny.” you said his name in the same tender way, making it feel almost vulgar as you rest so close together.

He looks away, you can see the gears shifting from his subtle body language. “I believe it’s long overdue… in the interest of exploring the things I’ve sacrificed... you’ve earned my real name.” Your eyes go large, a quick jerk upward as he moves, bravely so, to place his hand over yours. His skin felt as hot as the sun. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din.” you say with an unintentionally sickeningly sweet sigh of revelation. You give a smile that grows larger slowly, feeling it reach up into your eyes. “Din. That’s such a… gentle name. I like it.” you insist with a nudge forward of your chin.

“Yours reminds me of a phrase we have in Mandoa.” he looks down, now preoccupied with his decision to touch your hand. It was so giving, warm, and feeling distinctly feminine when paired with his.

“What’s that?”

“I think it would translate best to luck… destiny. Bright stars that light the good course to take.”

Your eyes went wide like a forest animal. You couldn’t help it, it was one of the sweetest sentiments anyone had ever given you. “Say it for me, Din.”

He felt his chest jerk at the word. He wasn’t used to being affected by them. Certainly not his name. “Jate’kara.”

“I’ve not been able to find much about your language. Would you be willing to teach me someday?”

“Of course.” he sounded borderline offended at your statement.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“No, no.” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to ask things of me like they’re favors.” he clarifies. “Whatever you need of me...I’ll do it.”

It sent a flip to your insides. This felt like a lot of responsibility. You could just... request things from this myth-worthy Mandalorian? It was an odd power rush you weren’t truly capable of dealing with in this rather intimate setting. You were close, almost between his knees, hands clasped together and speaking quietly into the warm night air. The condensation ran cool on your skin, the wind leaving bumps over your skin in its wake. The buzz of animals and insects was loud but faded when you were so close and so deep in conversation. If he said you could ask anything of him. Then perhaps you would. Why sit on the intensity of the moment? Strike.

“What is it that is bothering you? You feel... different. Not angry. I’ve seen you angry this is more subtle more...deep. I feel like you’re holding back. What is it that's making you so angry? You are so logical and reasonable in your approach to things. What is it that's so distressing you can't sleep?”

He takes a deep breath. He hasn’t wanted to say and be thought of as simple or even crude. But you'd asked and he was left with no excuse. “There are things that men want...even need that arent considered with The Way. I am a Mandalorian. But I am also a man. I've given so much of myself to being Mandalorian that I've had to deny myself things that are a part of that human side of me.”

“And with learning of the lies, you’re angry because you feel like you've been suffering for no reason.”

“Yes.” a stern answer and a strong nod to accompany it.

You almost lost your nerve, but with the way his thumb kept sweeping across your skin and the voltage it felt like it created with every touch you would’ve cursed yourself if you didn’t ask. “What have you sacrificed unwillingly, Din?”

Your eyes gave you away if your tone hadn’t. His helmet doesn’t move, he is as still as stone, gray, and shining like a polished river rock as he bores into you. “That is a bold question.”

“You have given me bold answers. I return the earnestness with the things I want to know.”

“You want to know these things?”

“I want to know you.” a direct answer and a slight leaning forward to keep him close as if he might run away in fear. Which was the most ridiculous imagery you could imagine. “I always have. I’ve been witness to your good and the bad actions. I’d like to be a bearer of your thoughts tool. I can’t help but want to understand what makes you, you. Of all the creatures and people I’ve met, you are the only one to hold my attention so completely both with and without his presence.”

Your words made for the most interesting combination of occurrences in his chest and stomach. It was fire and ice, a pull to the man in him, and a calling of praise for the life he led. His cheeks burned, a rare occurrence. It had all been a fantasy before now. But you with your fond words and their heated meanings were making them feel more real by the second.

“You do know how to appeal to both sides of me that I’m talking about.” he pauses and observes your face a moment, and no sign of retreat is within your eyes. “There's been no place for the… physical intimacy that men can crave. I am not one to pay, and I don't have the time to put into such efforts that I believe are needed for such… intimate things. They’re as sacred as an oath. I might've not acted that way when I was young. But clarity is gained with experience.”

“I share the sentiment.” a touch of sadness he understood well was in your eyes and it made his chest ache. A being like you shouldn’t know these feelings. A flash of anger lit within him for the injustice in a universe where a woman like you would ever feel lonely in such a way.

“You’ve taken no oath to hold you back from such things.”

“But I have not had the time, place, or person to swear such sacred oaths.” you give a subdued laugh, throwing his words back at him. “Or… at least I didn’t think I did… because I wasn’t sure if they could.” you look away and he sees it. You meant him.

“They can,” he answers, a deep fearless voice emanates from the helmet that holds your entire body at attention. “There are… obstacles to overcome. But they can.”

With a rush of confidence, you move closer, your chest against his legs and your hands on his knees. “Do you know of any obstacle I have yet to overcome?” a smirk that catches him off guard appears, a playfulness to your eyes bright and doting on him makes him catch the fever you were trying to spread.

“No.” a breathy answer through Beskar.

“Then let me help.” you offer. “I have grown so fond of you over these years. I wasn’t convinced you felt the same.”

“I do.”

“We can approach this issue together and… overcome it the same. As we have before.”

“As we will again.” He recites part of the toast you liked to give before leaving on missions. He remembered it. He did care.

“What obstacles are there? You know you have my silence with such things.”

Where did he even begin? He didn’t feel prepared and ironically he was unprepared for such actions to take place and feelings to be felt. “I know. I trust you.” There was nothing but the truth in his words and you reach to put your hand to the side of his helmet as if it were his cheek. You had always accepted this part of him, treating the helmet as if it WAS him and not an external thing. Which is how he thought of it most of the time. There was never a wish for him to remove it or invasive questions. You were knowledgeable about the Mandalorians and knew their armor was sacred to them, and you assumed as such about this man and his helmet. He places his hand over yours, the warmth between them registering on his helmet display and building condensation on its surface. “Let’s go inside.” he instructs, taking your hands, a flush of warmth through his bones at the touch of another.

“Is the child-?”

“Fast asleep.” he quickly answers, leading you to the small bedroom in the earthen home.

He stands at the long side of the bed for a moment, hand in yours and trying to get his bearings, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. You saw his head moving and taking in the room and then you and back again, you could sense the uncertainty. “Din, relax.” a warm smile comes across your face, taking the lead, and that was fine with you. You almost coo his name, your hands moving to his upper arms to rub them reassuringly.

“Hard when it’s been so long.” he regrets it as he says it, thinking it might sound a bit pathetic.

“Believe me it’s been a very long time for me too.” you console him, standing chest to chest to start. You follow the hills and valleys of his arms, strong and lean under the pliant fabric to his bare hands, lacing your fingers together, feeling him hide the twitches and jerks from the sensation of touch. “Sit down on the bed. Let me get close to you.” he sits down, sat up far too straight. “Put the bend of your knees against the bed... there we go.” he feels your hands on his thighs and an audible gulp hits your ears that you ignore. “You know I’m not going to judge you. I want this… I want you too.” He feels you close the space between you, your legs sliding between his naturally wide splayed ones. “Now tell me what obstacles did you mean before? Talk to me and let me know what you need.” your hands trace the dark lines on his helmet and a shiver runs down his back.

You were being far better about this than he warranted. It made him want you more, a hunger in his lower stomach slowly growing past his anxiety. “Helmet stays on.” was his first thought, spoken almost too quickly.

“Of course.” you keep your voice quiet and soothing, hands making their trek up and down his arms, waiting to feel them lose their tension. “Do you have to leave everything else on?” you coax him with a squeeze to his biceps, putting one leg up, now visible from beneath your robe over his.

You can’t see it but you get an actual grin out of him. “No.” a more confident response, feeling more relaxed with your unintentional playful humor. You see him look down to see the bare skin, the touchless friction between your bodies growing hotter by the second.“But let’s not get carried away.”

You hear the laugh this time, he sees your expression shift, a triumphant smile for getting him out of his own head. “I know I can be sensitive when I’ve not... been touched in a long time.”

“Yeah?” he liked the sounds of you talking about it a little too much. He wanted to hear anything you’d tell him about your body.

“Yeah.” your breath catches, “Are you?”

He nods, he didn’t have the confidence in this area yet to own what he saw as shortcomings.

“I want to sit in your lap. Can I?” You wanted to take it slow. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. There is a fine line between indulgence and going too far when it came to dealing with a man like him.

“Yes.” another quick nod, and you are happy to give in, your hips settle well on his strong thighs, feeling secure. To him, it felt it took forever and didn’t last long enough. The drag of your bare skin against his thin clothes was a lot. The weight of what felt like a lifetime of neglect to himself and his needs weighs as heavy on him as you do. He had known touch only through violence for decades now, the tenderness you were offering him willingly was almost overwhelming. He was taught the ways of war and violence since he was young. The ways of more fragile things; of love and intimacy he’d had to learn on his own.

“I’ll go slow.” Slow was the opposite of how your hearts were beating. Your fingers wanted to touch that strip of skin unveiled around his shirt collar, but you only stared at it for the moment. His head pauses just above your chest, your arms resting on his shoulders, fingers light on the edge of his helmet and hungry to move farther down.

“Thank you.” a simple but honest answer.

You’d been close before, seen large spaces of bare skin and carried one another, slept shoved into a single space too small for you both but it had never felt like this. Everywhere your bodies met was warm and giving, both now very aware of the gap between both your hips in this position. You took the time to study him up close, the metal of his helmet was unbelievably smooth as your fingers traced invisible lines and doted on the hard surface separating you from him. Did you want his helmet off? Yes. You wanted to know, to be the only one to know, to touch and feel and savor every inch of him. The more you thought about it, the closer you got to him, the harder it was to recall a time you didn’t think of him this way. Repressing your wants and needs was something you were both personally familiar with.

“It doesn’t bother you when I touch your helmet like this does it?”

“N-no. I like it.” his face a melted mess under the guard. He watched you so close, your bright eyes glowing with the light the moon beaming down. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew everywhere you touched, spots lighting up red with heat, pulsing where more pressure was applied. It was a good introduction to being touched again. You push forward, a single kiss to where you believed his cheek to be. When you pulled away, he answered before you could ask. “Go on.” a heated hiss through the filter deep and dark and heavy as it hit your ears. You place another to the other side, tilting his head you give him another to his forehead. His eyes would close when you were near, a happy sigh, a weighted exhale is let out, feeling his shoulders slumping with each dot of affection. You hold his metal cheeks, a faint kiss to the tinted part of his visor. You press your forehead against his, barely a measurement worth noting separating you as he gives in to your touch, wanting to fall into you, to give you back what you were giving him.

You move your hands slowly, giving him time to register and adapt before moving on, your arms wrap around his helmet, holding him close before leaving a trail of smaller kisses behind, bringing his head only slightly down into your chest. Underneath he was a slack-jawed puddle. Your arms made their way down his shoulders to his back, you could even feel the raised skin of scars you’d helped suture, fingertips light along them, exploring new ones. After your flat palms explored his back, finding his breathing steady and deep you tried something new. A drag of your nails against the fabric drew a deep groan from him. “Good?”

“Ung-” a deep enthusiastic grunt escapes the helmet pushed to your collarbone. “Yes.” You continue, you scratch his back and he swears he could cry at the sensation. You didn’t move away or avoid his scars, the patchwork he felt his body looked like. You embraced it, all of him, and it was hitting him harder than he expected it to.

You take a deep breath, another kiss to soothe to the cold metal. “Do you want to...see me? Or- touch me back?”

He hadn’t even thought about it, his brain hadn’t moved past the feel-good moments you were covering him in.

“Yes.” a simple but hungry answer. As you see his helmet tilt downward towards your chest.

“I want you to too.” Your sincere tone struck him, he watched your agile fingers reach for the belt that held your robe in place. It fell silent, blood in your ears as it was your turn to feel the taste of nervousness on your tongue. Your body was something that did things for you, it wasn’t something you often stopped to consider the aesthetic of. The quiet noises that he let escape as you took off the robe left any hesitation behind with it as it laid on the floor abandoned. His hands didn’t move, his chest did noticeably, as yours mirrored, picking up speed as you moved forward. You take one of his hands, thumbs rubbing circles, leaving small kisses on his fingertips as the sounds beneath the Beskar grew louder. The rhythm of his breathing was now audible, helpless sounds you never expected to hear from anything but pain brushed against your ears and touched you in places no one had in ages. You kiss him palm, nose nuzzled into the only slightly trembling fingers. After you felt the skin-to-skin contact was enough to calibrate him, you meet what you felt to be his eyes, taking his hand and placing it over your breast. You were still covered with the thin sleep shift but it was made for breathability in the heat of summer and didn’t leave much to the imagination. You take him by the wrist of the awkwardly avoidant hand and put it on the curve of your hip. “Is this-?”

“Yes.” he rushes out and sees you smile, causing another kiss to be given to his helmet where you were aiming for what would be his mouth. He groaned, feeling your nipple harden against his palm, the other feeling the silky slip of fabric as he let himself give a firm grip to your fleshiest parts.

“Go on, Din,” you whisper into his visor. “Touch me,” you ask of him. A strangled noise breaking through bitten lips is your answer. You place your hand gently on top of his, showing him it was okay, reminding him how to, helping him give in. Your hand forces his to cup the weight of your chest, the exhale of pleasure fogged up his visor as you had your head rested against his. “Like that, yeah.” you wet your lips and his hand begins to move on its own. Soon his hands are kneading at you, a simple brush of thumb over your nipple forces an inhale he drinks up the sound of.

He fondly recalled this now, that static in the air, the shared breaths and the power he felt with a woman in his grip. He relaxes his head against the bend of your neck, mouth open and watering, hidden from view but the sound of his breathing was enough to tell you he was giving over to it now. The tentativeness leaves, his hand pulls your hips closer to him, both inhaling at the feeling of touch against the places your arousal was spreading from. You let out a small whine at the feeling of the seam of his pants, pressed against by his growing erection.

“Fuck.” you hear exhaled into your shoulder and you shudder. “You feel...so good.” his hand grips you firmly, “Like velvet in my hands…” his lips brush against his helmet and he wishes it was your skin. He was famished for touch, for this connection and lust he’d repressed for so long. But here it was, in his hands, in his lap asking him for more. His hands ran up your bare chest, feeling the pulse under your skin and the slick your sweat had created. “You’re as hot as a star under my hands.” he groans.

You audibly swoon at the comment, feeling that distinct masculine roughness of well-worked hands as his palms moved into your hairline. “And you’re as hard as Beskar under me.” You move your hips, a grind against his, and a fully formed moan escapes, neck going limp and the heaviness of the helmet resting on your shoulder now. You whine, the friction feeling even more delicious against your glossy wet center. He encourages you wordlessly, a hand on your ass to keep a slow rhythm, a painful drag of your engorged clit against the perfectly fit shaft of his cock. Such a thin piece of material between you, you thought. You reach between your legs, a wet mess on both of you and it’s no surprise. “I’m as wet as Kamino, Din.” you hum and smile, the front of his helmet against your neck again. You feel the vibration of his groan against your skin. “Look what you’re doing to me,” you whisper, mouth pressed against his helmet where his ear would be. He sees the light hit your fingers as you raise them. “See that?”

“Fuck...yes little star I do.” he groaned heavily, his chest heaving a bit. You get bolder, your hand moving from your lips to the painfully hard throb in his pants. Another long groan, a jerk of his hips as you palm him, a back and forth against the pressure, feeling him jump against the confines. “Unf - I - I won’t- “ his hips jerk and his hand moved faster than you can register to your wrist. A firm hold that makes you moan and stop. There was that strength you had wanted to be obedient to. “That might be a bit… much for me.” He stopped you out of fear of not being able to stop. He didn’t want to scare you, unleash something he wasn’t ready for or couldn’t control. It was a concern he’d cum too soon and embarrass himself, this wasn’t something he could just jump back into and impress anyone.

He was thankful you weren’t disappointed, “Do you want me to make you cum, Din?” Every time you said his name with such lust in your voice it made him moan. But he didn’t feel the least bit weak for it.

“I wanted us both to...enjoy this.”

“If you think I’m not enjoying myself you’re welcome to put that hand between my legs and find the contrary.” Another moan that makes him slump comes heavily from him. “If you do want to...enjoy this…” you let out a small breathy laugh he raises his head to. “I can arrange that.” you offer, your nose gliding affectionately against the center indent of his helmet. “Relax and enjoy this with me, Din.” you give him a reassuring smile, lining your hips up again. You grind back and forth, his hands finding their place on your body quickly. You straighten your back to give him a view of you, and you finally let your fingers dive under the neck of his shirt, feeling the slightest glimpse of hair at the base of his neck, your fingers go as far into his helmet as they can. You start that back and forth against him, over and over, lazy growing more urgent as each time he gives a harsh drag across your clit, the stimulation you needed. “I’ve thought about you like this, you know.”

A small “Ungff.” was the only response he could manage.

“Wanted my hands to feel your skin, just for pleasure. Wanted to know how you’d feel... thick and throbbing beneath me like this.”

With a deep grunt, his hand holds your hip sternly, the other moving to the back of your head, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes-keep talking like that, fuck.” The demand was thick in his voice, his hands no longer gentle, giving away the need they were trying to find an outlet for.

“You’ve turned me into something I’m not for anyone else. Some needy young girl, hungry for a taste of flash and flesh with a man.”

“You’re so, fuck you’re so soft.” he moans, helmet pushing back against you like a bull, and you were happy to ride. "Your so good at that."

You let it build, focusing on the feeling between your legs, you let your breathing take over, every grind a release of sound, and a step climbed together towards your peak. “I knew you would be impressive. You had to be. Look at you.” You pant and you feel his fingers sink into your hair, a fistful slowly tightening as you held onto his back and head, leveraging and letting your hips do all the work. “No man’s ever made me such a greedy woman with only his hands before Din. No one. Only you.” The filter slips and your mouth falls open, breath fast from exertion, both sets of hands now with a white-knuckled grip against each other's bodies.

It was hot and fast and what you needed to satiate your needs. His hands and sounds told you everything you need to know for now. He wanted you, needed you, craved you. He was giving you the power to make him weak, a rush to your head that wasn’t just your impending orgasm.

“Fuck Din I’m close.” you admit, your mouth open and panting, tongue shamelessly lapping at his helmet, your lips kissing him as if he could kiss back. Once again, he returned the kisses with his hands, switching grip one went to your back, the other back to your breasts bouncing out of their thin confines.

“Fucking do it.” he bites out through gritted teeth, fingers tugging your top down to expose you and give your nipple a pinch.

“Mmmph!” a slight whine but a plea for more. “Yes fuck I love that Din, harder.” your words rush out and he eagerly follows.

“Cum for me. Cum on me. Please.” he growls, and it ignites something in you. Something primal. “C’mon little star, fuckin burn for me.” he commands, a barked order, caught up in it all, the heat, the friction, and the haze of lust around you both he cums. Unexpectedly but it didn’t matter at this point. With that solid thrust against you, a hand gripped into the flesh between your shoulder blades, the masculine energy you’d craved washes over you in the grunts and expletives that leak from the helmet.

“Yes, fucking cum Din. Give it to me.” you moan shamelessly, head falling back. A yip of “Yes.” building from whines to full roars overcomes you as you do as he asks and explode into a white bright hot light that consumes you. You try to keep the pace, the contact but your body stutters and begins to shake. The now warm metal of his helmet presses between your bouncing tits as your head tilts back and he holds you up with both hands, you never felt fear of falling when his hands were on you. At least not falling into the floor.

It was as if his mind cleared, and he was left soaking in this gleaming woman cumming hard in his arms. He held you up, seeing your chest heave, the pink flushing your skin, how much desire he felt in his growled name as you gnashed your teeth and came on him.

Fuck he felt good.

He got to scoop you up, a trembling and panting shadow of the primal goddess you’d just been, arms wrapping around your waist, one hand moving to see your face as it fought to regain its bearings.

"You glow like a star when you're like this." He isn't sure if he's overstepped, he doesn't know if the shine in your eyes is from the recent orgasm or his words. “Fuck you are… beautiful. You know that?” your mass of hair falls forward as you look down at him, chest still finding its normal pace.

Your eyes blink, a flutter of disbelief and, if he read you correctly, a slice of fear for only a second. “Beautiful?” you ask, feeling a bit bewildered.

His hand stops its gentle stroking against your hair and face. “You act like you’ve never been called that before.” You can feel the subtle laugh in his chest when he says it.

When your face remains still for a moment, eyes bright and full of memories he wishes he could access you reply almost sheepishly, “I've not.”

With the simple, quiet answer he was given more information about you than you knew you'd given up. You'd never let anyone in like this before. No one had ever held you and told you the things you longed to hear from another you cared for. You were like him after all.

With a light hand, you rest against his helmet again, stroking it as if it were his hair. "It means more coming from you than it would anyone else."

Now you've taken his words from him. You managed to make him feel special. Something he had denied his entire life. Something he wasn't sure he even believed anyone could be. In the same sentiment as your confession, he was glad it was you that was changing his changing his mind about such things. Learning the truth about the Children of the Watch, and the questions it brought up about his life was the first in a wave of realizations he'd face. Perhaps it was time to reevaluate how he lived his life if it meant missing out on things like you.

I tagged those who wanted in my Javi fic and interacted with my posts about making this fic. If you want to be added or removed just let me know.

@jaegeeeeer @likedovesinthewnd @inkededucatednnerdy @biharryjames @ladamari68 @past-romantic @weliketomoveit @shikin83 @ookamikuro @anglovesthis @swol-bear @louist91syndrome @guiltylitpleasures @nfnoofiii @hellothefriend @beatha-dubhach @l-e-i-n-t-h @firehart9

#the mandalorian reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin reader #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic

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thetypedwriter · 4 years ago

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Lore Book Review

Lore Book Review by Alexandra Bracken

Lore by Alexandra Bracken was one of 2021’s most anticipated YA novels and it's easy to see why. The plot summary itself is enough to pull you in with the intriguing concoction of calling it the combination of The Hunger Games and the Percy Jackson series.

What’s not to love when you fuse the illicit danger of Katniss Everdeen with the mythological enchantment of Rick Riordan’s masterpiece?

Turns out, quite a lot unfortunately.

Before I get into why this book didn’t live up to the insurmountable hype it built up, I’ll attempt to give a basic summary. The key word being attempt as a good portion of this novel’s plot was a mind boggling and convoluted mess.

The book takes place in modern day New York which Bracken likes to remind you every other paragraph with small snippets about how the city that never sleeps smells like sewage and is yet still the best place on earth apparently.

Don’t get me wrong, I love New York as much as the next person, but the pandering to the Big Apple got annoying after awhile.

Within the cantankerous city lives a girl named Lore which we are introduced to by means of her kicking ass in an underground Chinese restaurant’s fighting ring.

Pretty strong start.

Lore’s world (and the reader’s frankly) is tipped upside down when Lore’s long lost childhood friend, Castor, reappears to warn her that he is looking for her. Terrified, Lore is then at first unwillingly thrust back into the world in which she was born-a world dominated by violence, bloodlines, and the Greek gods who are very much alive and out for vengeful retribution.

In a very exposition-dump heavy conversation, we learn that Lore is the last of Perseous’ line with the rest of her family having been horrifically murdered, that a week long event called the Agon occurs every seven years in which the original nine Greek gods or their reincarnated selves become mortal for seven days, and that a series of killing often happen because if you kill a Greek god you then become that Greek god as well as inhabit their powers, abilities, and immortality.

Well, until the next Agon that is.

The currently reincarnated God by the name of Wrath is attempting to end the Agon by killing all the other Gods, but in order to do it he needs to wield a special weapon called the Aegis.

Unfortunately, only the Perseides can wield this shield (for some reason) and thus, Wrath is out to get his hold on Lore as the last of her line so that he can bring this eons old competition to an end with himself as the sole victor and only remaining God.

Confused?

I’d be surprised if you weren’t.

Now, I love Greek mythology. I’ve read the classics and would say I’m fairly up to date on the stories, the legends, the gods, and the stories they represent. I’m not an expert, but I would say I’m knowledgeable on who the major figures are and what they stood for.

I genuinely think this book would have been miserable for anyone that didn’t know anything about Greek mythology.

Bracken does a terrible job of explaining what the hell is happening at any given point, and she often throws out allusions and references to Greek mythology without bothering to explain a single shred of information about it.

In addition, after this laughably and poorly explained world and plot at the beginning, it is almost never explained again. It’s brought up, as are names and titles and weapons and relationships, but it’s never explained in a way that’s feasibly understandable.

At the beginning of the novel Bracken lists who all the important characters are, their bloodlines, and their titles.

I soon figured out why, as every other sentence a name like Wrath or Reveler or Tidebringer or whoever was brought up, and it was impossible to keep track of so I didn’t even bother.

Even Lore brings up that the names are ridiculous, which I appreciate, but the meta moment of clarity doesn't make it any better.

Also, what Lore and her friends get up to over 90% of the novel is a muddled mass of bewilderment.

Why do Lore and Castor and the others need to find Artemis? I don’t know, but sure, whatever, sounds good. Why was Lore the last of her line again? Oh yeah, right, okay, I guess. Wait, Castor died? Oh, he didn’t? Why not? Oh, we’re not going to explain it. Sure, sure.

Throughout this entire novel, what the characters are doing and what is happening is almost impossible to follow with the way it's presented and the way Bracken developed her world. I think this was a really cool idea that had very poor execution.

Points for the originality and the inclusion of Greek mythology, but all of the positives were taken away when that originality was flushed down the drain with a lack of explanation and logic.

Lore very much reminded me of a shoot-em up, bang-em up action movie. Almost every other chapter was some sort of super intense, super climactic fight scene, chase, theft, break-in, etc.

Now. I do think action scenes are hard to write and I think Bracken actually did an incredible job of writing action in a way that was entertaining and thrilling.

However, when the action takes place every ten pages it gets really old, really quick. Towards the end, I downright started skimming the fight scenes, because they lacked so little depth and stakes and we had read so much action at the end point that it had lost all vigor and vitality.

Continuing with the action movie metaphor, most action movies focus solely on the bright explosions and the crazy fight scenes as their selling point of the whole movie, often to the detriment of the characters, plot, and development.

Now, some people like this. I am not these people.

I find action movies boring as most of my enjoyment from consuming media comes from the characters and the developments they undergo.

My biggest criticism with Lore, other than the astonishing storytelling, is by far the characters. I just...didn’t care. About any of them.

Bracken tried to make Lore come across as a strong, opinionated, fierce, angry female character and while sometimes she succeeded, more often than not I found Lore temperamental, aggravating, impulsive, selfish, and shallow.

Bracken very much invoked the tell-not-show strategy that makes any book hard to get through. While there were some decent moments of showing instead of just stating, more often than not, Bracken would tell us that Lore was strong by having other people say it or others calling her weak.

I appreciated Bracken’s feminist agenda and how strongly Lore felt about gender inequality, even if it was a bit heavy-handed at times. Still, I did appreciate this inclusion of civil rights on this front, even if some of the circumstances to incite it were ridiculous or over the top.

In addition, I hated that there was all this backstory that we were just told but not shown. Like in my last review of Wilder Girls, Lore suffers from an intrinsic failure of getting me onboard with these characters and their relationships by telling me how I should feel about them instead of exposing them through action.

I was told:

Lore and Castor haven't seen each other for seven years, but my gosh, Castor is just the best and is so beautiful. Ensue obligatory YA romance.

Lore has a best friend! Yeah. Her name is Iro. Here she is! Um. Okay. Why was this necessary?

Miles is just the coolest best friend ever. Like, look how cool and chill he is. How funny is it that he has no idea what’s happening? Really not funny at all. He was a useless character used to build empty stakes.

The list goes on and on, but Bracken will throw out some sort of fact or relationship and just expect the reader to go “Okay!” Which. I didn’t. On any of those occurrences.

Often Bracken would do this in the use of flashbacks at the most inopportune times (during a fight scene, after someone was injured, right before a huge revelation, etc). These flashbacks were the worst. I do not care for adolescent Lore and child Lore was somehow even worse.

The romance in this book, much like an action movie, is off to the side and really only there to fulfill the trope of having a romance.

Lore and Castor are boring. I don’t know what else to say. Castor is too perfect to be likable and Lore is the opposite. Nothing about their romance was unique or well-crafted.

The kiss between Van and Miles I also saw coming a hundred miles away. I also thought it was pointless as Van and Miles had known each for six days and had had maybe two conversations. So. No. I didn’t care at all about the romances.

It actually made me laugh and scoff simultaneously at the end when Lore is looking at Van, Castor, Iro and Miles and smiles because she realizes that these people are her family.

Ummm. Sorry?

Castor disappeared for seven years and you’ve been reunited for seven days. You’ve hated Van your whole life until this week. You also haven’t seen Iro in seven years and she tried to kill you at least twice in this book. Miles is...fine, but again useless. I don’t even know why Bracken included him except to make Lore worry about him which she only did about half of the time.

Phew.

I know this review has come across largely negative, so this might be surprising, but I didn’t hate it. It lacks substance and depth, but it was entertaining.

Just like an action movie.

If you want some hyped fights and a plot that really doesn't matter and characters that won’t stick with you, but a fast-paced narrative that keeps you on your toes nonetheless, then you would probably enjoy this.

It’s like the equivalent of watching a James Bond movie or one of the millions of the Fast and Furious. Bracken tries to develop the characters, but at the end of the day, most of the story is made up of cool fights, magic, and weapons. If that’s your speed then you would probably really love Lore.

Recommendation: Action, action, action. If you want some high intensity, get-your-blood-pumping enterprise then this is your novel. The writing is fluid, the adrenaline-inducing scenes are non-stop, and everything else falls to the backdrop of external fights and villainous monologues. If action is not your preferred genre, then your best left to get your Greek mythology needs from Percy Jackson or the Song of Achilles instead.

Score: 6/10

#lore #alexandra bracken #6/10 #ya fiction #YA Books #YA literature #book blog #book review #top books #teen books #Teen Romance #teen fiction #Book Recommendations #YA Book Review #ya book rec #popular fiction #popular books #greek mythology

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captainscanadian · 4 years ago

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Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Being back in your childhood home had certainly brought you some well-needed inspiration.

Word Count: 2900+

Pairing: (Eventual) Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader, OMC Harry Nelson x FWB!Reader, Rebecca Barnes x OFC Rosie Bender

Warnings: Heartbreak, Bullying, Grey’s Anatomy Spoilers

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

When Harry Nelson had first moved to Los Angeles at the age of eighteen, he’d had many dreams of becoming a screenwriter and director. He wanted to make movies that seemed relatable to the general public, with no action sequences or elements of science-fiction, no monsters or magic, no million dollar budget to be spent on visual effects. Just simple stories about real people, whether it was the kind that made them laugh or the kind that made them cry.

Throughout the span of his twenty-year long career in Hollywood, he had come to realize that the genre of romance movies had their own built-in audience that he could definitely make money off of. The hopeless romantics, as he liked to call them, were a group of people who were always longing to see love stories that don’t necessarily end happily, but still leave them believing that true love existed.

While he had since directed several romance films that went on to have the cultural impact in the likes of Notting Hill and The Notebook, it hadn’t been until he had met another hopeless romantic did he realize that he was one of them. For a man who never believed in true love, he sure enjoyed love stories. He was a hopeless romantic, as much as he hated to admit it. Whether his story was going to end happily or not, he still had a part to play in it.

Back when the first instalment of the Hopeless series had turned out to be a success, Harry had simply approached you in request of the movie rights to your novel series. While you hadn’t given in to his request due to not knowing how you might even end the series yourself, he decided to play the long game and wait until you figured out the ending.

Years had gone by and the two of you had only become best friends, bonding over your mutual love for the romance genre. Many movie nights were spent watching the classics such as Casablanca and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. He had invited you to his premieres and parties, to simply take part in the discourse of what it meant to write a beautiful love story that stood beyond its time. But the friendship you shared had turned to something more when you had found yourselves drunk at an after-party and consumed by lust of all things and not love as one would have assumed.

Even though becoming one of the love interests in your story had certainly not been his plan all along, he couldn’t complain about it either. A newly single romance novelist and a divorced filmmaker with a knack for romance getting involved with each other was not the strangest thing to take place in Hollywood, not even when you had a ten year age difference. You had kept your arrangement as secretive as you could though, for you did not need the prying eyes of the media to ruin what you had.

By the time the third instalment had been published, no one had suspected that the muse behind Dr. Jake Winston was Harry Nelson himself. Harry had seemed to figure it out early on though, when you had let him have a glimpse of the first draft. But when he gave you his approval to go ahead with the story, you had made him promise you that he would play the role he helped create if your novels were ever made into movies. Harry had been delighted to accept that if he were to make his acting debut, it would be as one of the love interests of Hope Anderson.

Being the man who taught you what it felt like to be safe in a relationship, he had always given you a way out of your friendship with benefits. After all, the strings had never been attached to begin with. But that was a path you did not think you would want to take, at least not until now.

Not that the two of you had managed to drive each other crazy like most Hollywood couples. As unsurprising as that would have been, you felt that you really needed a break from living the California dream and that included what you had with Harry.

With the fourth and final instalment of your series being due in just a few more months, you found yourself hitting a brick wall with where you wanted Hope Anderson’s story to go. Writer’s block was a curse that you hadn’t really experienced with the last three novels. But inspiration for the fourth novel had just not struck.

You were well aware that your readers were longing for a happy ending for the girl who had spent a majority of her life being heartbroken. For a strong and career-driven woman like herself, she could easily find someone to settle down with. But that wasn’t what you wanted when it came to the ending of your series.

You wanted Hope to find some kind of purpose for the journey that she had taken since leaving her hometown for college. You wanted things to be right for her, even if they weren’t necessarily right for you. There needed to be a purpose behind her journey, that was meant to be fulfilled in the final book.

It had been Harry’s suggestion, being a fellow writer himself, that it might be plausible if the fourth novel took a rather ‘coming-of-age’ kind of path compared to the last three instalment. Reid made her realize that she had moved on too soon, Ethan made her realize that love was messy, and Jake made her realize that there are good men in this world. Neither of these men had been right for her, but then who was?

“I think our girl Hope needs to go home.” Harry had suggested one night in the midst of your pillow talk. “She hasn’t been home in ten years. I think she needs a little trip of self-discovery, a walk down memory lane… she needs to find herself in order to find her one true love.”

“What makes you think that she’ll find her true love when she finds herself?” You had asked him, curiously.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

The air was crisp as you stepped out of your Uber and grabbed your suitcases from the trunk, leaving a heavy tip for the driver at the end of this dreadfully quiet ride from Indianapolis International Airport to your humble home in Shelbyville, Indiana.

Being back in this little city after an entire decade in the West Coast sure brought back the good old days for a moment there. But when the cold breeze hit you, you were reminded why you had fled your hometown in the first place. Certainly, you had gotten used to the California sun. But who could blame you though? This place was hell on earth.

As you dragged your suitcases up the driveway, you could not help but look around the neighborhood that you had grown up in. It seemed as though nothing had changed in the last ten years. Or perhaps, it was just the nostalgia of being back here that made it seem as though everything was still the same when it wasn’t.

Old man Nick who lived next door still had his ratty old truck parked out front - was that thing still kicking; you couldn’t believe it. The last you heard, his daughters Carol and Maria had moved out to Indianapolis after college and visited the man every now and then. Apparently, he refused to leave Shelbyville as he had lived there his whole life. His wife had lived and died at that house, and he could not see himself leaving behind the memory of her.

The girls had asked your mother to keep an eye on him, and she had kept an eye on him because she seemed to be the only one in the neighborhood he trusted. Your mother had told you that they were bonding over their mutual empty nest syndrome, but not even her attempt to guilt trip you had brought you back here.

You hadn’t even bothered to come back here when you had found out that your mother was ill. You had flown her out to Los Angeles instead, and did the best you could to give her the medical care she needed at one of the best hospitals in the country.

Not even when she had passed away did you ever try to come back and take care of the house she’d left behind for you. You just hated everything about Shelbyville, Indiana, to ever come back.

But nothing like a little writer’s block to bring you back here.

You made a mental note to leave a rather sarcastic voicemail for Harry, for convincing you to fly out here on your own and facing a part of your life that you never wanted to return to. God, you hated him sometimes, mostly because he was always right and he seemed to know it. You loved him too. Not the kind of love that destroys you, but the kind that made you realize that you always deserved to feel loved by someone.

Truth be told, the house was not as bad as you had thought it would be. It just needed a little dusting and maybe a paint job, but it was still your childhood home in every way. Nick had kept it in good shape while you were gone, because your mother had asked him to take care of it in case you had ever thought about coming back home.

You thanked the man when he handed you the keys, and asked him if you could borrow his truck to run some errands later that day. You just needed to run into town to pick up some groceries and stop by the hardware store to grab some supplies.

In the meantime, you could use the quiet and the nostalgia to come up with the perfect plot for the final instalment of your novel series. Perhaps you could start off with Hope Anderson returning to her hometown due to her mother being ill, putting a pin on completing her residency and giving herself a break from her arrangement with Jake.

She spends hours on end sitting by her mother’s bedside, losing her hope as the days rolled by. And when her mother passes away, she copes with her loss by spring cleaning her childhood home and fixing it up.

*EDIT: 4th love interest?

You had written a few pages of your first draft when you finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms as you stepped away from your laptop on the dining table. You had been avoiding your childhood bedroom like the plague ever since you had arrived, claiming the master bedroom as yours for the duration of your stay.

But as you ascended up the creaky stairway and turned the corner to your childhood bedroom, you could have sworn that the last ten years had never gone by. The paint was chipping off of the cream colored walls, multiple posters of the Jonas Brothers pasted against them, never being taken down in your years away.

You recalled the time you’d had the chance to meet them following their comeback, as one of their wives had starred in one of Harry’s films. You may not have been an overly enthusiastic fangirl on the red carpet, but you were certainly proud of how far you had come from your childhood bedroom. The teenage girl who used to live in this room had clearly grown up, living every dream she’d always had… except one.

You walked over to the desk at the corner of your room, where the first few scenes of your Grey’s Anatomy fanfiction had been written. You had written more than one hundred thousand words about the undying love between Mark Sloan and Lexie Grey, as though they had never died after that plane crash, not even realizing that the basis of that story would eventually inspire the plot of your third novel. The attending and the resident with a significant age difference - God, could you ever be original with your own writing?

This was the room where you fell in love with writing, but writing was not the only thing you had fallen in love with at the time. On the bulletin board above your desk remained one photograph, being held together by a thumb tack.

You remembered the day after your high school graduation, when you had forcefully ripped out most of the photographs you had pinned to that bulletin board and chucked them in the trash bin, along with the feelings you had for the seventeen year old boy who was in those photographs with you.

A part of you wanted to rip up the last remaining photograph that still remained on that bulletin board, but the ten years you had been away had certainly suppressed the anger you felt towards him. So instead, you left that photo where it was and returned to your laptop, picking up your writing from where you had left off but the thought of him now lingering through your mind.

James Buchanan Barnes. Your best friend. Your first love. Your first heartbreak. The reason why Hope Anderson’s love life, and yours, had become hopeless in the first place. Perhaps the best way to end this story was to go back to the very beginning, to where it all had started, to the man who had been a part of her life before Jake, Ethan and Reid.

“Oh Harry, you son of a bitch!”

Dr. James Barnes let out a yawn as he eyed the CT scans in front of him, even though it was only the beginning of his twelve hour call shift. Only into the second year of his three year residency in emergency medicine, he was starting to familiarize with the intensity of his life as an emergency room physician. Sleepless nights were only the bare minimum.

Not that he could not handle the stress of running the ER one day, but Bucky was well aware that outside of the walls of Shelbyville Hospital, he did not have a life. No girlfriend to go home to, no hobbies to kill time with and no friends from outside of work to hang out with. Work, sleep, repeat… life was starting to get boring for the poor twenty-eight year old man.

“You look miserable.” Rosie Bender, the ER nurse on call and Bucky’s former classmate, remarked cheekily at her friend before she slipped into the seat next to him.

He shot her a fake smile as he set down his patient file back onto the rack, leaning back in his chair and looked over at the nurse. “I’m just bored as fuck, Rosie. As you can see, the ER’s pretty quiet tonight. I just want something to do.”

“If you’re so bored, you can help me make some calls. I have to finalize the number of people who are coming to this thing by the end of the week. The catering people have been asking for numbers… and don’t even get me started on picking the menu.”

For the woman who had been head of the Prom Committee back in senior year, planning their ten year reunion was supposed to be a piece of cake. But Rosie was struggling with juggling all of the responsibilities that came with planning this reunion, being the only who seemed to care so much about being able to reunite with some old friends from what had been the best four years of her life. Why did no one else care about this as much as she did?

Truth be told, Bucky could care any less about this so-called ten year reunion. He was well aware that the one person he would be hoping to see would never show up. You hadn’t even come back to town when your mother had gotten sick, let alone to this stupid reunion that was meant to be a remainder of your senior year - the memory that he had ruined for you by being so inconsiderate towards your feelings for him.

He could never forgive himself for what he had done to you, and to think that he would never have the chance to apologize to you in person. He fucked up, and he pushed away the one friend he had. If he could just see you one last time and tell you how sorry he was, Bucky would give anything. But he knew that all hope was lost on that, at least until Becca Barnes had come rushing into the ER.

He had just assumed that she was only dropping off some dinner for him and Rosie, but instead she looked over at the two of them with beaming eyes. “You two are not going to believe who I ran into at the hardware store just now...”

“Is old man Nick renovating the Y/L/Ns’ house again because he’s bored?” Rosie perked up at her girlfriend, giggling softly as she stood from her chair to lean over the desk and peck her lips.

“No, but close…” The younger Barnes chirped before she turned to her brother. “Y/N’s back in town.”

Perhaps, all of his hope was not lost after all.

#kas4kwc #hope #aj writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #doctor au #doctor!Bucky

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kissy-kobos-garden · 4 years ago

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plot: you're having a rough day and kobo's there to comfort you.

genre: fluff, romance

word count: 1,750

a/n: this was specifically an idea Helen and I just came up with when we were talking and i hope that you guys would like this (��´◡`❁)

- miko ✧

there wasn't a guarantee that life would be filled with only happiness all throughout. it was always going to be a rollercoaster ride of emotions - and you, for one, know that well. the all too familiar emotions that usually hit at the end of the day.

and it was one of those days that seem to feel like everything's just... against you. mistakes were made at [school/work] and the stress just keeps on getting built up, leaving you drained and exhausted.

all you want to do right now was to go home and be in the arms of kobo, your lover. every step towards your shared apartment grew heavier as the thought of being finally home was enough to tilt the overflowing glass of emotions.

the sound of the pin being punched in the keypad of the door of your shared apartment echoes throughout the room and before you know it, kobo was already standing before you with a bright smile.

"welcome home-" with your arms immediately finding their way to his waist was enough to cut him off and soon, the soft sniffling reaches up to his ears.

a sigh slips past his lips as he pulls you closer to him. in time like this, all he could ever wish for was to take all the pain away rather than seeing you all broken.

staying in that position for quite some time before he slowly pulls away. "hey, why don't you take a shower first and we'll talk about it after you get all washed up? how does that sound?"

your eyes were puffy and bloodshot from crying but the small pout forming on your lips sent kobo into an internal dilemma. should he shower you with kisses right there and then or have you take a warm shower before showering you with affection?

"and when you're done, you can wear one of my hoodies as well as any of my pajamas." he slightly bends down to meet your [eye/color] orbs. "i'd love that," your voice came out as a whisper but that didn't stop kobo from breaking into a soft smile.

"and while you're at it, i'll have two cups of chamomile tea and a whole strawberry shortcake prepared for us to snack on, hm?"

nodding in response, you were about to leave when he pulls you in for one more hug. "i love you."

"i love you too," you say, taking in his scent that you know so well. kobo pulls away from the hug and before letting you go, he plants a kiss on your forehead - chuckling afterward at your confused look.

"just go and take a shower."

"alright."

a nice, long hot shower was one of the things you needed the most. it was as if all of the stress and sadness have been washed away with the suds.

donning on kobo's brown champion hoodie, you slowly make your way to the living room - only to be greeted by kobo's smile. "there's my girl."

"how're you feeling?" he asks with arms wide open for you, welcoming you into his arms and lap. "i'm feeling a bit better..."

and yet, kobo still sees the dullness in your eyes. it didn't sparkle like how it used to sparkle before. "did something happen at work?"

"you know, you can tell me about it since i'm your oppa." he may have said it with good intention, however, you couldn't help but feel the corner of your lips slightly tug upwards at the mention of "i'm your oppa." knowing quite well, how he sure loves being called oppa.

heaving out a sigh, you sink more onto his lap before wrapping your arms on his waist - nuzzling your face onto the crook of his neck. "today has been... pretty overwhelming."

letting out all of your pent-up stress and frustration felt like a big block being lifted off from your heavy chest. you know kobo's always been a good listener.

he always has and always will. he knows you like the back of his palm and sometimes, that thought comforts you.

a warm big blanket of comfort. that's what he is.

you tell him your day and from time to time, tears would well up on the corners of your eyes. "i just keep on messing up..."

"and i just don't want to keep on disappointing the people around me..." you croak out as you face kobo with glossy eyes. taking in both of your cheeks in the palm of his hand, his gaze softens and says, "sweetie, it's alright to make mistakes... human as we are, we're not perfect and you are not obligated to meet their expectations."

tucking in the strand of hair behind the back of your ear, he leans in before resting his forehead against yours. "mistakes are just mistakes. it won't define who you are... you're that hard-working, passion-drive, and kind-hearted woman that i love best in the world."

"more than your legos?"

the sight of his hesitation earned him a slight pinch on the sides, causing him to burst out laughing and pulling you into a hug. "i'm just kidding! of course, i love you more than legos."

"but joking aside, today's just another day. it's alright to feel this way from time to time but that doesn't mean you won't get back up on your feet, right?"

"right."

taking the plate of strawberry shortcake into his hand after quite some time of trying to hold you tightly as possible to prevent you from falling, he takes a small piece with a fork and brings it up to your lips - which you happily accepted. "good girl, now, how are you feeling?

you swiftly take the plate off from his hands and take another bite from the cake. "i feel a lot better now... thank you." kobo's gaze softens at the sight of the spark returning to your eyes. in times like this, he feels complete, accomplished as he's able to take some of the pain away even if it's in the smallest ways.

"but why'd you buy a whole cake? is there an occasion that i might have missed or something?" you ponder as you take in another bite. the soft lingering touch of kobo's fingers sent chills down your spine as he tucks in a couple of strands of your [h/c] locks behind your ears.

a sigh slips past your lips as you look at him, "oppa."

he stops mid-way to meet your eyes, "hmm? what is it?" rolling your eyes in response, you take another bite of the cake before setting it aside and cupping his cheeks.

the sight of your furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips sends him into a laughing fit. the kind of laugh that can go for miles and miles.

"what's wrong-" you cut him off with a long, yet sweet kiss. the literal sweet kiss with the taste of the cake still settling on your lips and tongue.

never had he expected something like this to happen. especially not from you.

the feeling of his lips forming into a smile as he pulls you closer to him to deepen the kiss felt as if it's unlocked the cages of butterflies in your tummy.

you are the first one to break the kiss with your hands now resting on his chest, guiding you as you push yourself slightly away from kobo - gaze hazy as you try to catch your breath.

"you-" you pause as you feel him tuck a finger underneath your chin to make you look at him - only to be greeted by his lips once more, but this time, it was merely a peck. "i was supposed to be the one to kiss that pout away, not you."

in time like this, you just could help but finally, let out a hearty laugh at how kobo can easily take away all the stress and frustration. "you weren't listening!"

"hurt" was completely written on his face - as if he was unable to take in your remark. "i was listening to you," he quickly raises a finger to shush you, "but you do know how much i love you, right? just seeing that sparkle back in your eyes... made me really happy and it hurts to see you down."

"but seriously, what made you buy a whole cake? i mean, our anniversary's still a couple of months away and both of your birthdays are... you know... still coming up?"

handing you your cup of chamomile tea, you take a quick sip as you watch him carefully trade in the now-empty plate on the spot where the cup was placed. sure, it's out of the ordinary for him to buy a cake without any occasion.

but sometimes, kobo just knows you more than you know yourself.

"i had a gut feeling you were having a bad day," he leans back once more to meet your gaze, "so i bought you a whole strawberry shortcake to cheer you up."

and there he is. the man who really knows how to handle you so well. kobo surely is the type to move you to tears in his own little ways and tonight was one of those nights...

tears start to form in the corner of your eyes, bottom lips unconsciously pulling out into a pout as you take in what he said. "really?"

"really," he smiles as he takes a hold of your hand... quickly taking a sip from your tea. "ooh, this tea tastes good tonight."

and of course, kobo will still forever be that romantic, sweet yet cheeky guy you love so dearly.

"and since we have a lot of leftovers, if you want, we can use the rest in bed or something- ah, i'm just kidding! i'm just kidding! you didn't have to pinch me though." kobo rubs his cheeks as he watches you put down the cup of tea back onto the table.

you take a quick peek of him over your shoulder, a soft smile finding its way to your lips. he returns the smile with a wink - a laugh soon erupting from your chest, arms finding their way back to his waist.

one thing for sure... there's nothing you would want to trade this moment or any moment you spend with kobo. "i love you," you whisper as you settle back into his arms, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck.

"i love you too, [y/n]."

#kissy kobos garden #kkg #romance #fluff #oneshot #kobo asmr #kobo #fluff and romance #romance oneshot #fluff oneshot

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brightbeautifulthings · 4 years ago

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You Have a Match by Emma Lord

"I think in life you can know you're loved without peering too closely at the edges of it. It's almost scary, seeing that there aren't any--it doesn't have a beginning or an end. It just kind of is."

Year Read: 2020

Rating: 3/5

About: Abby isn't expecting much when she signs up for a DNA service with her friends, so she's shocked to discover that she has a secret sister who's only a year and a half older than she is. More shocking is that her sister is Savannah Tully, an Instagrammer famous for her healthy lifestyle and matching spandex outfits. The girls decide to meet up at summer camp to figure out what happened and why their parents kept this secret from them, but they couldn't be more opposite in personality. It doesn't help that one of Abby's best friends, Leo, will also be at camp, and she's been avoiding her feelings for him since the Big Embarrassing Incident. I received a free e-ARC through NetGalley from the publishers at St. Martin’s Press. Trigger warnings: family death (off-page), severe illness (off-page), injury, grief.

Thoughts: This is a cute YA contemporary that doesn't take romance as its main plotline. It has romance in it, but Abby and Leo are more of a subplot compared to Abby and her secret sister, Savvy. Sadly, I've discovered that I care for family drama about as much as I care for romance in my fiction. Who knew? Their squabbles got a little overwhelming at times, especially when the parents were involved. If I want to see grown humans acting like children, I need only attend holiday functions with my own family (or read my Facebook feed). Still, it's a refreshing change that the most important relationship in the book is a sibling relationship and not a romantic one.

Lord's writing is good and often funny, though I occasionally found myself distracted by a turn of phrase and having to give it a second pass. The plot is a humorous twist on The Parent Trap, with Abby and Savvy's summer camp pranks and animosity evolving into sisterly bonding and a mutual desire to see their parents reconcile. I was less impressed with the romantic subplot, which features a heavy dose of Failure to Communicate. All of Abby and Leo's problems could be solved by having a single serious conversation about their feelings, and the reality of their situation feels glaringly obvious to the reader. In part, this avoidance is built right into Abby's character--neither she nor Savvy can handle confrontation--but it's a little tiresome for the plot.

It's the characters who really shine in the novel, and even the side characters feel distinct and well-rounded. Abby is brave and a little reckless, and the fact that she doesn't always think things through leads to some funny encounters. She can be overly emotional, but in her defense she did just uncover a major family secret, and her character arc is very good. We have the sense that she's a very different person by the end of the novel. Her best friends, Connie and Leo, feel present and three-dimensional even though Connie isn't on the page for most of the book. Savannah is an amusing contrast of control freak, with some commentary on the toll of being a social media queen. Her romantic subplot is almost exactly the same situation as Abby's, and I'm not sure if that's meant to show us how similar they are or--oops--ran out of ideas for new romances. All in all, it's a fun read, and I think fans of the genre will find a lot to like about it.

#book review #you have a match #emma lord #ya contemporary #ya romance #st. martin's press #netgalley #3/5 #rating: 3/5 #bookoween

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iaintyourbro · 4 years ago

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I wonder if the reason why Cle~rith fans getting desperate with twisting facts is because most of their romantic moments are in midgar ,since midgar was in the pt1 and there’s non to them now only small parts ohh & GS date the moment they worship ,C beating A , A going to the FC then her death but i wonder if A death will actually happen the part 2 Because i’ve seen some people say the devs may change the plot and A death will happen differently (1/2)

so maybe A death will happen at the end of last disc in the remake , but remind me again when does the moment C say to T “it you opinion that matter.” I’ve CAs downplay this moment that the devs will remove it just like how most of their moments do you think the devs will remove CT moments in favor to them cause they’re hoping for that right now , i really thought it was too good to be true that many CT moments were added in pt1 since T was irrelevant until A death in OG (2/2)

Hey there! Thanks for the ask! This ended up much longer than I expected, so I’m going to add a Keep Reading for everyone’s sanity.

First I’ll talk about the scene where Cloud says this line Tifa. This happens when you go to the Northern Crater and Sephiroth creates an illusion of the Nibelheim vision. At the time, you don’t know it IS partially true, but it’s based on how TIFA remembers it. Sephiroth knew Cloud was there, but since he never revealed himself to Tifa, he used this to his advantage.

Cloud is holding strong saying he knows what Sephiroth is doing, and that the guy who runs out of the mansion won’t be him. Zack runs out - and Cloud is like I don’t care, this is Sephiroth’s illusion. I know I was here. Then Sephiroth also is like “okay... fine... I got a picture.” (He doesn’t say that exactly, but you get the jist)

Tifa then can’t respond, because she knows he wasn’t there. Cloud notices she starts to waver on this and says that her opinion is the only one that matters.

Here’s the exact lines that Cloud says:

However, Tifa can’t confirm anything now. Sephiroth did exactly what he wanted to do. This is what actually breaks Cloud. When he realizes that Tifa can’t remember him being in Nibelheim, seeing what Sephiroth is showing him and telling him, his mind breaks, and the illusion of Cloud Strife is broken with it. This allows Sephiroth to get the Black Materia and throw Cloud away like a used puppet, which is exactly how Sephiroth sees him.

This is an extremely powerful scene. You don’t get resolution on what most of this means until you go to The Lifestream later one and Tifa helps Cloud rebuild his mind.

This is the first time that it’s obvious that Tifa is very important to Cloud. This is probably why it’s discounted. Anything that’s showing anything where anybody is important to Cloud other than who they ship him with is not real.

If you replay the OG and pay attention, there are moments that show Tifa is important to Cloud. They are very subtle and NOTHING as obvious as what you see in Remake, but they are there. There are also comments from Barret and Aerith hinting at Cloud’s hidden feelings for Tifa.

Barret when you first get back to Seventh Heaven after the first bombing mission asks if he wants to see his little baby (I thought this was funny).

Barret on the way to Sector 5 makes a comment about them after Cloud is trying to make sure Tifa isn’t scared. “You two can do this later.”

If Tifa and Aerith aren’t in your main party when you get to Costa Del Sol, Aerith will make a comment to Cloud when Tifa says she wants to go swimming about him getting crazy ideas and melting that cold exterior, and then she runs off with Tifa.

But the OG was NOT romantic. I think it’s comical that so many people see all this romance. I replayed it recently. Any romance is very subtle. This game has like 5% romance, 95% crazy shit going on.

Okay, LTD stuff: The Midgar scenes people refer to that I can think of are Cloud laughing with Aerith on the roof (which was removed from the Remake and given to the Avalanche crew), being imprisoned so Tifa hears about the date Aerith promised Cloud, causing some LTD drama, also removed, Aerith running after Tifa instead of Cloud - also replaced with Cloud going after Tifa. The last one is used to say that Cloud didn’t care about Tifa. So, they made sure to cover that one.

Aerith HERSELF has helped to end the LTD. Her entire resolution was a nod to the OG plot - she gives foreshadowing on her death, on Cloud not being Cloud, and various other aspects. She tells him he can’t fall in love with her because even if he thinks he has, it isn’t real. They laid it on heavy there. Aerith HERSELF doesn’t seem interested. She’s absolutely more interested in what’s up with Zack. She built up the entire time you’re going through the Collapsed Expressway in Chapter 9 to ask Cloud if he had any SOLDIER buddies.

In any case, the Northern Crater scene will be one that slays people. It was emotional in seeing it in text and polygons, but with voice acting and HD, you’re gonna see crying, fear, and see Cloud slowly breakdown in HD.

Now on to Aerith’s Death

So, I strongly believe that the main plot points of FF7 OG will be the same or similar in FF7 Remake. The devs themselves have said they are not going to divert from the story. However, that doesn’t mean that things won’t be added or tweaked. They added 30+ hours of content to a 6 hour portion of the OG. They moved scenes around, reworded things, and in some cases, removed scenes. But EVERYTHING they did only added to the main plot points.

The Sector 7 plate still falls, no matter how hard you try to get there and stop it. Tifa still goes to Don Corneo and you have to save her, Cloud still falls in to the Sector 5 Church, President Shinra still dies, Aerith is still captured by Tseng.

The main aspects to drive the plot forward still happened. What happens in between those things is what is different, but ultimately, the main points are the same.

The things added or modified didn’t impact these aspects. If anything, they added to them. For example, having Barret get stabbed by Sephiroth served as a nod to the original idea to have most of Cloud’s friends actually die. This was changed to have just Aerith die. Sephiroth stabbing Barret also served to fuck with Cloud. Barret is revived because we all would have burned down SE HQ. (No, he’s revived because there’s quite a bit that would have had to change story wise, such as Corel and all that.)

Adding Sephiroth in early is enhancing the original story. There were instances in the OG where Cloud heard Sephiroth talking to him, but you didn’t know who it was. The “In my veins flows the blood of the Ancients.” is directly from the OG, at the same time. It’s when you’re going to Elmyra’s house. They just enhanced that scene. They’re building up the mental breakdown of Cloud slowly, so by time it happens, you will also feel like you’ve been mentally broken down by Sephiorth. It makes it much more powerful than hearing a high pitched sound and a random line of text appear on the screen.

I think that Aerith knows she’s going to die, just like she eventually seemed to know in the OG. I think Zack coming back is going to be part of that. I’m going to guess that he’s somehow going to help her. She will still need to be in the Lifestream at this point to make everything work.

Do I think that the entire event will be the same? No. I think it will still happen at the Forgotten City. I think Cloud may completely go nuts and your party will need to stop him from killing Aerith himself, like he almost does in the OG. I’ve seen theories saying HE will kill her, but I don’t know if they’ll go that far. I think Sephiroth will still kill her. I’m not sure it’ll be the same exact way, but I’d be very surprised if they changed the scene too much.

It’s a really powerful scene. I don’t think it’ll be JUST Cloud looking at her. I think that’s why they’ve built up the relationship with her and the others - especially with Tifa. But I definitely think she will be killed in a very similar way in order to keep the horror of the original scene... and I think initially she’s going to survive it. That’ll be the whole illusion, but she’ll die pretty quickly after that. They’re going to fuck with us and make us think she’s going to survive it.

I do think that Zack is going to come and “get her.” I think that Cloud will have interactions with Zack and Aerith to try and prevent the AC scenario of extreme guilt. Zack will definitely have a much bigger part than he did originally (which was almost non-existent in the OG).

In order for them to properly follow the FF7 story, Aerith has to die.

The other option is to have her die at the Northern Crater, which is originally where they were going to have it happen, but I’m not sure how that would fit at this point. Tifa is the key to breaking Cloud for Sephiroth. Sephiroth knows he can manipulate Cloud by using Tifa against him. Aerith wouldn’t do much additional in this scene. She doesn’t know Cloud. It also would require that Aerith dies to add to the grief the party is feeling. Cloud needs to be broken down, and Aerith is part of that breakdown.

So I think she will still die at the Forgotten City. I do think that you’ll have more interaction with her after she’s in the Lifestream, but through symbolism. I think that Tifa will talk to Aerith when she falls in to the Lifestream.

Everything that builds the skeleton of the FF7 story will be there. It’s just how powerful it will now be and how much will be added.

This turned out REALLY long, but I had fun writing it.

Hopefully I answered your questions!

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thisisallthehattersfault · 4 years ago

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Writing Romantic Relationships

I get a lot of compliments on my chemistry and character interactions. A lot of my readers have expressed liking the way I write relationships, so since that’s an aspect of my writing that gets a lot of positive attention, I want to really make sure to hone and refine it as best I can. With that goal in mind, I did some Googling a couple months ago to try to find any articles or videos I could that had advice for writing believable, engaging romantic relationships.

Turns out, there’s not a ton out there. The results that came up were all focused on the Romance genre, which I’m sure will be very helpful to those who are writing their first bodice ripper, but it’s not for me. There were a few lists of things to avoid when writing romantic relationships, but as with all advice telling people what not to write, they’re really only helpful sometimes.

So, I decided to sit down and try to articulate the way I approach romantic relationships in my writing, in the hopes that it might be helpful to someone, and also in the hopes that other writers would chime in and add some tips of their own.

Right off the bat, you should ask yourself why you want these characters to get together. A romantic relationship should be an entirely character-driven subplot -- sure, things like an alien invasion or an eldritch cult will push people together through necessity, but if you really want your readers to be hooked on your characters’ relationship, you need to make it believable that these people would fall in love even if the Plot wasn’t happening. Basically, what do they see in each other? What do these people gain by being together? Why them, and not anyone else?

The main way I address this is through character flaws. A good relationship in real life should make you a better person -- within reason. No, getting a girlfriend isn’t going to solve all of your problems, but those problems should seem smaller and more manageable now that you have someone in your corner. A romantic relationship is life’s built-in buddy system, and fiction should reflect that. The two ways characters can help one another deal with their respective flaws are through Overcoming and Compensating.

Overcoming is typically how character growth works -- your character addresses their flaw, and decides to change it in order to become a better person. Having someone around to call them out on their bullshit, or encourage them to do better, or praise them for their progress can be a huge help in achieving that growth. Typically the easiest and most effective way I’ve seen this done is to have one character lead by example.

An emotionally repressed jerk becomes more open and expressive because their S/O’s strong sense of compassion rubs off on them. A character who’s shy and insecure gains courage by watching their confident, self-assured love interest. These will likely be the first reasons your characters are attracted to each other. They should respect and admire things about each other, and want to emulate those traits -- even if it’s only grudgingly, and even if they never admit it out loud.

Which brings me to Compensating. The thing is, perfect characters are boring and unrealistic. Even after a whole book’s worth of development, your characters should still be at least a little flawed. They’ll still have hangups, habits, issues that they haven’t worked through and probably never will because if they were cured of Every Single Flaw they’d be… just, unbearably boring. What I’m saying is: Not all character “flaws” need to be fixed. But, depending on what those flaws are, they could maybe stand to have somebody else compensate for them.

An impulsive character held in check by their calculating partner. A trusting character cautioned by their hesitant lover. A passive character with a temperamental s/o who stands up for them. This is the classic opposites attract -- the messy one adds excitement and spontaneity into their lover’s life, while the neat one keeps things reasonable and on-track. There should be a back-and-forth, with each character taking turns to show that neither of them are necessarily wrong, but there’s a time and place for quiet vs loud, aggression vs pacifism, logic vs emotion. Your characters should respect their s/o’s perspective, and be willing to listen and meet them on their level. This creates balance, and gives your readers clear examples of why your characters work as a couple.

These are the most important parts of your relationship to figure out, because they’re how you’ll plot out the romance. The major heavy lifting for your romance will be almost entirely done by showing how your characters help each other grow or come to rely on each other for help. If they don’t make each other better, and they don’t need each other to pick up the slack, then the relationship is shallow, and won’t work.

Once you’ve got the bones of the relationship figured out, you can start to work on the fun meaty bits. Next up, Affection.

Way, way too often in media, we’re given two characters who are supposed to be madly in love, who… don’t have anything in common. No shared interests, conflicting goals. They barely talk to each other. But we’re supposed to believe they’re happy in their relationship? Look, your characters need to like each other. Yes, even while plot is making their lives crazy! They shouldn’t completely overlap, but they need to have hobbies and interests in common, or at least have complimentary senses of humor and priorities. Your character who has never touched a camera in his life can absolutely still fall for a photographer -- if he appreciates art, or at least appreciates the way his s/o lights up when they talk about their craft. Are your characters both passionate about animals? Do they do the same sports? Play video games? What do they do together?

Again, they don’t need to share Every Single Aspect Of Their Lives -- in fact, it’s better if they don’t. Much like how you need your love interest to both Overcome and Compensate for a character’s flaws, their hobbies and interests should be a little of both -- things they share, and things they don’t. Hell, have your character who absolutely hates country music take their s/o to a concert anyway. Have your character who couldn’t care less about videography rattle off movie-making trivia because their lover talks about it so often. Show them supporting each other’s interests, even if it’s only to make the other happy. The things they do share should be a way for them to connect and have fun. That’s really what it comes down to. Romance should be fun sometimes.

Next up, I wanna talk about Love Language. I read somewhere that if you need your characters to kiss and say I love you for them to be in a relationship, you didn’t write a strong relationship. I agree with that, but I think it needs to be expanded on -- The Big Kiss and Those Three Words are a very loud way of expressing affection, but typically people say it much quieter, and much more often, than we acknowledge.

The Five Love Languages are Words Of Affection, Giving/Receiving Gifts, Acts Of Service, Quality Time, and Physical Touch. Understanding your characters’ primary love language and showing them expressing their love in whatever way makes sense for them will make your readers go absolutely fucking hogwild. Your characters don’t need complimentary love languages either -- in fact, if you’re looking to add a little conflict in the relationship, giving them love languages that don’t add up can really help add some believably to the whole mutually pining trope. A character who’s love language is physical touch trying to cuddle up to someone who hates having their space invaded, or a character who’s love language is words of affection coming across as a flatterer to a love interest who’s been manipulated a few too many times, makes way more sense than two people who adore each other but aren’t together because [enter contrived excuse.]

Between your characters having Affection for each other and your characters speaking to each other in their respective Love Languages, you have the groundwork for a lot of really immersive Chemistry! We get why these characters are good for each other from a story-telling perspective, we know why they like each other, and we can see how they express their feelings in small, consistent ways that really sells the idea that they’re in love -- or headed that way. Now what we need is to feel it for ourselves.

Chemistry in writing is all about immersion. When you have a crush, your whole body gets involved. The sweating hands, the pounding heartbeat -- but it also shows in your body language, the way you stand near that person, the way you carry yourself when they’re around. It’s in your thoughts, the language you use to describe them, the way you view them compared to others. There’s really no trick to writing chemistry -- at least none that I’ve found -- other than to really delve into your characters and make your readers feel what they feel. Every quiet thrill when their hands brush, every subtle glance at each others’ lips. These are people who want to get closer like lungs want air. Attraction is a magnet, and both of them should feel it.

I don’t just mean sexually, either. A character hyper-fixating on the collection of freckles on their love-interest’s nose can be as much a method of ratcheting up the tension as a character who can’t tear their eyes away from their love-interest’s rippling abs. Likewise, it doesn’t even need to be physical intimacy at all that your characters are chasing -- the desire to know someone, their deepest thoughts and dreams and fears, can be just as if not more intense than the desire to see them naked. However your characters’ attraction manifests, you need to make your audience feel it. Use all five senses, have them be very aware of each other when they’re in the same room. Show them wanting each other. Make your readers want it, too.

As you’ve probably picked up on from my wording in this, the last big tip I can give you for writing romantic relationships is that they need to be Reciprocated. Loudly, explicitly, consistently. Too often only one half of the pair is fleshed out, while the other is basically cardboard -- a thin, lifeless collection of “attractive” traits with no substance beyond that. The Manic Pixie Dreamgirl is perfect and fun and sexy, and she’s here to drag this unfuckably boring sad sack out of his miserable life. Why? Why is the gorgeous Adonis with every girl in town fawning over him settling for the plain, bitchy protagonist? Wish fulfillment is great and all, but both of your characters need solid reasons to be attracted to each other, or the romance just won’t be good.

#Writing advice #romance #romantic relationships #writeblr #not writing #shut up alice

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