#again I know G and Assassin are very different things but let's see how this goes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rayshippouuchiha · 4 years

Note

Nezu finding a younger Izuku and helping him hone his analysis skill (and build some confidence and ultimately creating a terrifying child who can analyze anyone in seconds and take them down just as fast with a smile) and then enlisting him to actually teach classes on the subject

just imagine Aizawa having to interact with this terrifying nightmare child who can read him better than a book

~Ah hell here we go again~ Read More Below!

Nezu doesn’t often leave UA’s grounds these days and even more rarely does he venture out unaccompanied in some way. He has made it a habit of sorts to stay on the campus as much as possible ever since he solidified his hold on the school almost a decade ago.

It’s a move that is he admits, even if only to himself, fueled by equal parts pragmatism and paranoia.

After all UA has most of everything he needs within it already including a set of private apartments scaled just perfectly to his size and tastes despite what impression the large, human suited desk in his public office tends to give any visitors to his domain. Why should he worry about venturing out into the city when anything the campus might not be able to provide for him can easily be procured by his minions dear employees or through delivery via secured drone?

And the fewer trips he makes off campus means the fewer opportunities there are for those who are still displeased with something someone such as himself holding such a position of power over such a prestigious hero school to take action. He, of course, has all faith in his ability to protect himself from whatever ham-fisted assassin might come his way but Nezu is, above almost all else, pragmatic.

The fewer bodies left in his wake the smoother his daily life tends to run.

It had, after all, been such a pain to get the records from his time at the tender mercies of his human captors completely sealed and the quietly buried.

The humans involved in the case had finally agreed though and in the years since they did so like to tout how the illustrious UA Principle had been “rescued” from the laboratories.

Few remained who remembered what the heroes who’d raided that hellish place had actually found when they’d arrived.

Those unlucky few who did remember had long since been silenced by hook or by crook. That had been one of the first things Nezu had done when he’d finally managed to accumulated enough power that his subtle threats and sharp toothed promises had finally come to hold real meaning on more than one level.

When he’d finally managed to bite and claw himself into a position of power that showed him as the threat he always had been for those who might dare cross him.

That had been the very first secret he’d ensured would be kept as it was one that posed the biggest threat to his reputations in a number of circles.

Nezu’s intellect wasn’t his only weapon after all, only his most dangerous. Though his teeth and claws could work in a pinch if the situation called for it. And when they’d tried to take his eye it had certainly called for it.

A self professed level of resentment and sadism could be excused by most of humanity for someone of Nezu’s circumstances.

But a body count? Well. That’s when humans tended to get ... tetchy.

So while Nezu does, of course, have a residence of his own off campus for paperwork purposes and as a secondary fall back location, UA’s campus has been his unofficial residence for some number of years now. And it will be his official one as well as soon as he manages to finally get the dorm system he’s been aching to implement passed through.

They will have to pry that school, his school, and what he’s attempting to build there from his cold, dead paws and whatever other insurance policies he manages to put into action between now and his inevitable death. Which will, of course, be some time in the far far future if he has anything to say or do about it. And he will.

All of that aside there are times when leaving the campus is unavoidable, this being one of them. An unfortunate scheduling conflict and a private meeting that absolutely had to be conducted in person had left him where he is now, strolling down the sidewalks of Musutafu and quietly lamenting how very oversized so many things were.

It truly was a pity that more accommodations had not been made for those whose quirks and circumstances of birth left them on the smaller side instead of on the larger scale. But progress could be rather unfortunately slow and so it was just one more issue Nezu hoped to begin subtly influencing in the coming years.

He’s just turning a corner, intent on visiting a nearby cafe with an excellent tea selection before he returns to UA (one must have their indulgences and a good brew and a finely crafted cigarette have long been amongst Nezu’s chosen pleasures), when he hears it.

“Get back here and get what you deserve, Deku,” a voice, rough and young but edged with a viciousness that makes the backs of Nezu’s teeth itch, practically howls.

Nezu, attention instantly captured, pauses just long enough to avoid being mowed down by the child who comes tearing around the corner.

For a split second their eyes meet, a blazing green gaze Nezu can’t help but admire just a bit locking with his own, as the boy sees him and swerves to avoid running into Nezu in his obviously frantic escape.

Nezu hops backwards a half step just as the boy loses his footing and crashing painfully to the side walk beside him.

“A-Are you o-okay?” the boy half stutters, half pants as he looks up at him, eyes wide and seemingly uncaring of the blood Nezu can already smell on his scraped palms and likely ripped kneecaps.

“Are you?” Nezu asks back evenly, eyes tracking over the boy and instantly compiling details and facts as he takes in the tattered school uniform, the pale face, the singed backpack and the bruises he can see just peeking out from beneath unseasonal long sleeves.

Everything about the boy screams battered to Nezu’s sense.

And then he looks down at his feet and sees his shoes.

His distinctive red shoes at that, vibrant in color and thick soled, subtly different in make and construction than most ordinary shoes seen these days, much like the footwear Nezu himself wears even now.

Which means that this boy either has a quirk that affects his feet or ...

“Thought you were going to get away didn’t you, you Quirkless fuck?” A small group of boys rounds the corner then, ignoring Nezu entirely and focusing on the boy who abruptly goes even paler somehow. “Just cause sensei couldn’t prove you cheated doesn’t mean we’re gonna let you get away with it.”

Ah, Nezu thinks even as he presses the urge to snarl down and away, option two then.

The green boy, because Nezu will not be calling him Deku even in his own mind, scrambled up onto his feet then. But, surprisingly enough, he doesn’t turn to run.

Instead he edges forward just a bit, sliding a shoulder and a foot forward until he’s standing almost protectively in front of Nezu himself.

“K-Kacchan,” the green one stutters, “I-I didn’t cheat I s-swear! I wouldn’t d-do that.”

“Tsk,” the blond leader, Kacchan, tisks then, a snarl thick and heavy on his young face. At his sides his hands flex in a move Nezu knows must be related to his quirk. “Bullshit. No way you’d get top of the class in anything without cheating, you worm.”

Nezu has known this child for roughly 6 seconds and he finds that he does not care for him at all. But then he’s never been overly fond of most of humanity either so perhaps that’s to be expected.

“H-Heroes don’t cheat,” Green insists, the naïve if well meant words sounding like a declaration. “If I’m g-going to be a hero then I c-can’t either.”

That explanation only seems to enrage Kacchan even further if the way his hands begin to pop and crackle is anything to go by.

This, Nezu knows as the scent of burnt caramel begins to fill the air around them, is going to escalate quickly.

“Public quirk usage is ~illegal~,” Nezu singsongs as he steps around the green boy and plants himself firmly in front of him instead, abruptly drawing the blond boy and his followers attention toward him. One paw slips into his vest pocket to remove the specially designed cell phone he’s never without. “I would hate to be forced to report this to the proper authorities.”

Never mind that, technically, he is the proper authorities.

The blond glares at him for a long moment before he huffs.

“This isn’t over Deku,” he snarls. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

It’s an obvious threat but the boy turns on his heel, shoves his way through his friends, and stalks off back around the corner in the direction he came.

So Nezu lets it go. For now.

“Now that that has been handled for the moment, young man,” Nezu turns towards the green boy beside him with all of the showmanship that’s come to define his patented introduction, “let me introduce myself! Am I a dog, a rat, or a bear? Either way I am Nezu th-”

“Y-You’re the Intel Hero Nezu,” the green boy says brightly, cutting Nezu’s introduction off even as he rubs raw and bloody palms against his black slacks and starts to dig through his backpack, “You solved the H-Hanamura kidnapping and the Inugami murders! You’re one of my favorite heroes!”

Nezu can’t help the way he stalls out just a bit at that because ... well he’s never been anyone’s favorite anything. Their nightmare yes but not their favorite. Especially not a child. Children around this age normally tend to have more simplistic reactions to him. And most of them don’t know about the string of rather gruesome ritualistic homicides he’d solved or the high profile kidnapping cases he consults on in his down time.

“C-Can you please sign my notebook?” the boy says then, head bowed low and a notebook and pen held out in Nezu’s direction.

Nezu admits to being slightly intrigued when he sees the way the cover is labeled Hero Analysis For The Future Vol 8.

That intrigue only grows when he opens it and his attention is immediately captured by the rather impressively done sketch of Pro Hero Starstreak that he finds there.

Unable to help himself Nezu reads over the page quickly and then keeps going.

Well now, Nezu can’t help but think just a bit gleefully as he sees the absolutely unbelieve level of analysis this young, quirkless boy has compiled, isn’t this interesting.

#BnHA #Anonymous #RayRambles #The Principal's Unexpected Protege AU

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flowerwrites06 · 4 years

Text

diamond trail I — myg

Plot: The theft of his most elusive and mystery possession leads to a web of trickery that threatens every large syndicate in the country. (alternative: Yoongis’ prized possession is stolen but he’s not the only gang leader being betrayed)

Pairing(s): Mafia Boss!Yoongi x Consigliere!Y/N

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 4k+

Genre: Mafia | Marriage | Mature Themes/Fluff/Smut

Tags & Warnings: criminal activities, mentions of past abuse (outside of the pair), explicit smut (spanking and very brief anal play), mild violence, coarse language.

Authors Note: it’s here friends!! i’m still a little rusty in terms of writing fanfiction after a while so please be kind lmaoo

A huge thanks to @casuallyimagining and @aroseforyoongi for helping with the proofreads!

Gold Dust held patronage of all heads in the underworld, allowing them to orchestrate the most exclusive and grandest auctions. You and Yoongi walked through the vault doors, hands intertwined with one another as two suited guards led you down the velvet lined stairs. Your footsteps silenced amongst the beating music of the club above. Your chest relaxed as soon as the soothing violins and piano touched your ears in the underground facility. Black marble walls and pillars encased you along with the sea of Italian silk suits and satin gowns.

Yoongi huffed at the very sight of them. All of these blank slates were products of a long-running nepotism. He might’ve been the only one alive who succeeded a popular gang leader. Then again, his father lived far too long for his own good and had way too many wives to be considered human.

What annoyed him further was the organization. Only the benefactors received private booths. The non-patrons had to be squeezed in with a potential rival in order to provide more benefits for the ones funding these events.

The suited guards stopped at the front booth on the right. Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek until it almost drew blood when he saw their seating partner.

“Min! Didn’t expect to see you crawl out of your hole.” Kim Namjoon wore the smile of a champion with the attitude of a diseased rat. Since he was part of the three oldest gangs alive, there was much respect to be handed to the man. Except Yoongi had no interest giving him the satisfaction.

So Namjoon made a goal to make his life a living hell.

Namjoons’ eyes flickered over to you, smile softened but gaze sharpened. “The beloved consigliere.” He raked up and down your form. “You look a lot better without business clothes, my lady.”

Yoongis’ grip on your hand tightened as you sat down on the other end of the booth. You pat the back of his hand as a silent comfort.

“Remember why we’re here,” you whispered.

Yoongi nodded. “I know.”

Normally, Yoongi brushed past events of pure greed and showy behaviour. However their syndicate suffered from a planned robbery a week ago. Only one item taken with precision: his mothers’ diamond gun. Everything else was untouched, barely shifted. They knew what they were doing.

You managed to trace it down to Kim Taehyungs’ annual auction. It’ll be natural to assume that Taehyung was the thief but most auction presenters had nothing to do with direct theft. More often than not, they were connected to the thieves to ensure that their place in the web of connections was concealed. Or at least delayed until they could escape to a safe house.

The room darkened; a spotlight shone down the stage. Kim Taehyungs’ lean figure stood proud, adorned in a red silk shirt and his hair curled. A ruby clip glimmered on the side of his head while his rings practically danced on his fingers. “Welcome my beautiful patrons to another friendly exchange of luxuries.” A calculated smile tugged at his lips. “I must say I’ve never seen such variety in a small listing before so this will be one for the ages. The underworld is aware of our rich history, our legends and ancestors who built this country without a trace of credit.”

Taehyungs’ words silenced the crowd to a point where you had to check they were still there.

“Tonight, I have items from each of these legends. Specifically the eight who strengthened that foundation.” Taehyung held a fist up. “Are you all ready?”

An applause indicated their approval earning a satisfied grin from Taehyung.

“Our first item belonged to Don Hayoon of So Pa.” He waved his hand for an assistant to roll the stand into center stage. “A vase made from ox bone and inlaid with gold to create this beautiful marble pattern. Don Hayoon allegedly made it himself during his years of retirement.”

So Pa disbanded eleven years ago due to a police raid in majority of their warehouses but they must’ve missed a few things. Yoongi wondered whether it was taken from the police or the gang itself. The whole retirement story must’ve been a ploy. Don Hayoon had arthritis which is why he had to retire in the first place before embarrassing himself in front of rivals.

Obviously none of these idiots would know that and Taehyung was milking it for what it’s worth.

The price was called and the cards flew up. Anyone with that vase in their house would gain prestige in seconds. It’ll be talked about from all corners of the underworld. Eventually a smug woman in a red suit won the bid.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hold your hand up, Min,” Namjoon spoke. “Considering you’re probably the only person who’s met Don Hayoon.”

“I’ve met him. I’m sure that’s enough for me to go on.” Yoongi landed his hand on your thigh, soft pink chiffon under his rough palm. He squeezed for some kind of comfort and glue to stop him from losing brain cells too early in the night.

“Considering the nature of your parents, I expected you to have more style.”

Nails dents could’ve formed your skin with the way he dug into your thigh. “Darling.” You pulled off his hand.

“Sorry.” Yoongi rubbed the area to somehow soothe it.

“The second item on our list belonged to Don Chun Hei of Mal Pa.” The assistant pushed in the second stand, holding a rose gem necklace which stood on a black velvet altar. “Chun Hei was best known for working closely with the mayor. Her reforms are the very reason these auctions and many other underworld events can be held with elegance and class. This necklace was a gift from the mayor himself. The rose gem is meant to be a culmination of diamond and rose quartz. Whoever made it has long since disappeared but this necklace has carried on this wonderful legacy.”

Chun Hei was someone both you and Yoongi could respect without question. Mal Pa had no age or prestige in the time Chun Hei made a connection to the mayor. She took her simple street gang and turned it into a professional syndicate that still lasted to this day.

You wondered if her descendants knew just the impact she had to the underworld. This item caused a stir amongst the crowd, suffusing the air with an eerie atmosphere of confusion and even anger. As the prices were called out, you noticed two people constantly raising the stakes to the peak until one of them gave up when it stretched too far. Except the one who gained the artefact didn’t look happy. You discovered that the anger came from them. The diamond gun may not have been the only thing stolen.

How many gang leaders was this thief trying to anger?

The power of auctions was the need to be elegant and impressive. Despite a small portion of the crowd knowing what was going on, they couldn’t say anything. Underworld events are where no leader has ultimate power. Everyone had to stay quiet and let the auction proceed.

“The necklace would’ve looked lovely on you, my lady. Perhaps I could buy it off as a gift.” Namjoon rested his hand out on the back of the couch so his fingertips were a breath away from your hair.

“No thank you,” you stated plainly.

If Yoongi didn’t have enough fuel to kill Namjoon before, it was brimming now. Every ounce of patience layered around him so he could sit still on his chair and let the auction go smoothly. He wasn’t going to raise his voice nor his hand first.

“Our third item is a notorious one at best. The famed Sapphire Assassins’ ledger.” Murmurs of recognition spread across the crowd. “Her true name was Mishil, right hand to Don Sungho of Jwi Pa. Sungho was an ambitious gang leader who believed the country’s underworld should have an ultimate master. He anointed himself and hired a professional assassin to kill everyone off on his hit list. Mishil listed all her killings down in this very ledger.”

Excitement coursed through your body seeing the battered old ledger. The blue covers patched with black ink splotches and the pages were tinged brown. You imagined the different ways she could’ve formulated her assassinations; the connections she had to make to be successful in such an elaborate scheme.

“As most of you might be aware, Mishil succeeded in the deaths of many gang leaders. However three gangs were able to execute her and Sungho before chaos could reach its full potential. To this day, no one has ever pulled a deed this vast and destructive. Not a friend to most of our gangs but there is surely a sense of power by having her failed ledger displayed in your home.” Taehyungs’ smirk marked success as soon as he called out for the prices.

Power was a key word to this crowd. While the more hardened members like Yoongi and Namjoon knew it was just a play for sales, Taehyung didn’t relish in the shouting any less.

While your angle wasn’t for power, your fingers still twitched to raise a card. Curiosity tugged at the back of your head, wondering how Mishil managed to gain that many openings and occurrences. Her techniques would’ve been useful in future assignments. All the syndicates you could manipulate for deals and contracts. Getting out of contracts. Anything. So many pieces of information must’ve been overflowing out of that ledger, calling out to you like a siren song. With a small sigh, you calmed the adrenaline pumping through your veins. This auction wasn’t a pleasure trip. You needed to focus.

The ledger was handed off to a man in a navy suit. At best, he would display it on his study like a fool. What a waste.

Reaching into your crystal clutch, you brought out a notepad and pen. If you couldn’t get the ledger now then there is a chance something could be arranged later. The auction was reaching its halfway point which meant the most valuable items are to come now.

“This fourth item belonged to Don Daeshim of Tokki Pa. The gang leader who drove away international syndicates striving to take over the country’s underworld. A bit of a hero. Rumor has it, he took a few drops of blood from each of those international associates and filled this goblet to the top.” Taehyung waved his fingers over the goblet mouth, mesmerizing the crowd like a herd of animals.

You observed the price calling with a brutally sharp eye. It might not seem valuable in the business sense but international associates may have had families and the like. Someone who might want compensation at the right time. You scribbled the description of the one who received the goblet. Thankfully, they had a noticeable scar down their left cheek with a distinguished citrine ring that was only sold by two jewelers.

“I wonder what it’s like having to work for someone you’ve married. Must be a pain hearing requests left to right.” Namjoons’ comment caused another stir in Yoongi but you stayed calm.

“If you think a consigliere simply takes requests then I feel sorry for yours. God forbid they find out they might be worth something more.” You narrowed your gaze.

“The Lady has venom.” Namjoon chuckled. “I mean no insult, of course.”

Yoongi tried to hold in a scoff, biting the inside of his cheek.

Silence spread amongst the three of you as Taehyung announced the fifth item: a gold mask once used to suffocate the Don of Yang Pa so his son could take over quicker. The sixth item was a First Lady’s dress which held at least a kilo of cocaine, hidden in every rhinestone and gem in small portions. It was later confiscated by the police but Gold Dust always knew how to make use of their connections.

Then seventh item caused a stir in Namjoon. For the first time in the night or ever, you noticed a sense of true and pure fury twisting his features.

“Our second to last item is a jade bracelet that belonged to Don Nari of Sutal Pa. A gang as full of mysteries and tragedies as its main rival, Gae Pa. Don Nari was the default leader after a tragic fire struck the Kim family. Leaving her and her young brother the only living descendants.” Taehyung lightly pressed on the bracelet, causing sharp gold spikes to spread out of it. “This was her weapon of choice. People had the habit of grabbing her wrist when they wanted to make a point so she had this bracelet made to show that she was untouched.” He blinked slowly.

“You son of a bitch,” Namjoon whispered under his breath.

“You’re not the only one riled up, Kim. Calm down.” Yoongi glared at Namjoon both as a warning and courtesy nudge to protect himself from embarrassment. “Don’t raise your hand.”

“Fuck off,”

“Namjoon,” Yoongi warned.

Namjoon shifted on his seat, fingers itching to grab onto his gun and shoot the auctioneer right in between his brows.

For once, Yoongi shared his anger. Of all the things they could take from them, they had to target the most precious object tied to a painful memory.

You noted down the buyer immediately. Park Jimin. He was a chain restaurant owner distantly associated with Yoongi but he soon began delving into arts dealing. He should be the easiest one to track down.

Yoongi had been slightly distracted by Namjoons’ downward spiral. His heart jumped before his mind caught up at the sound of his mothers’ name.

“It’s my honor to present to you our final item. The Diamond Gun of Min Areum.”

The gun rested inside a glass case lifted by a velvet lined platform. Lined in gold, encrusted with diamonds, glimmering brighter than the stars in a country sky. Everyone in the audience murmured in excitement, eager to lift their cards for the bidding.

“She was the First Lady of the oldest syndicate alive, Gae Pa. Her life as the wife of Don Min wasn’t pretty and filled with troubles. One day, she took her son to a mysterious jeweler and gave away all her diamond and gold jewelry. See this jeweler specialized in beautifying weapons and he made this priceless work of art. The same gun, Min Areum to shoot down Don Min and take over as Don herself.”

Yoongi could’ve sworn that Taehyung directed a smirk at him. Mocking him of the fact that he had such a prize in his midst. Flailing it right in front of him as a form of public humiliation.

Cards practically flew up to the ceiling in their sheer speed. Prices thrown from the left to right giving Yoongi a headache. He could hear his mothers’ voice, the small purple bruise on left eye as she took him to the jewelry shop every week. It was their only time of peace.

You reached out and touched his thigh, bringing his attention back.

Then a familiar voice brought you both to a still.

“Sold to Kim Namjoon!” Taehyung announced while the crowd huffed and cheered.

Yoongi glared at the man.

“What? You never said I couldn’t buy your shit.” Namjoon relaxed back on the couch, unrelenting in his own glare.

As the auction concluded, Taehyung announced that an afterparty will be held at the top level of Gold Dust. You noticed most of them were ready to jump off their chairs and kill him but he’d already disappeared backstage. Most likely straight to his vehicle so there was no time for anyone to act.

Yoongis’ body radiated a thick air of heat and the glares shared between the two leaders were sharp.

“We’ll settle this where there’s less people, gentlemen. Calm yourselves.” You glanced around at all the patrons and attendees either excitedly murmuring or harshly whispering. It was a strange atmosphere tonight. One can only wish there won’t be any bloodshed.

***

“Are you fucking serious? You know fully well it was stolen from me!” Yoongi growled. Both gang leaders were toe to toe in a dark corner of the club. Others were mingling on their own problems and issues with the auction and some were close to losing their inside voices.

“And I bought it fair and square. Don’t you think it’s a little childish that you’re simply asking me for it?” Namjoon spoke through gritted teeth. “Now get the fuck out of my way. I have business to deal with.”

Yoongi pressed a hand on his chest. “I could give Jimin one word and you’ll never find that bracelet even if it was up your own damn ass. So stay put.”

“I’m the last person you can scare with status, Min. You know this. I’ll snap my fingers—” he raised his hand and snapped his fingers. “—and your wife will be on her knees for me.”

Yoongi pulled out a small silver blade and pressed to Namjoons’ neck. Eyes darkened in fury. Hungry for a taste of his blood staining the floor, for that face to twist in despair.

“Stop it. Both of you.” Your voice struck firm as you pushed them apart. “Don’t you understand why this auction took place?”

Yoongi and Namjoon stared at you in confusion. You sighed in annoyance.

“Someone is trying to play with your minds. Causing you to drop blood so they don’t have to get their hands dirty. Why do you think all those artefacts were dumped into one auction? Where almost all the gangs of this country were attending?” Your eyes flickered from Yoongi to Namjoon. “Doesn’t that sound a little strange? From the naked eye, you’d think they were just silly but clearly—” You gestured at the both of them. “—whatever they’re trying is working. No one knows who the thief is. That causes suspicion and rumors.”

“We start blaming each other for spilling information,” Yoongi continued.

You nodded, relieved that some understanding spread through their faces. “We need to regroup in a neutral zone. Gold Dust isn’t that anymore. Once we find a place and time, we’ll figure what needs to be done. For now, separate.”

The leaders shared another sharp glare at each other before Namjoon walked away. Some of the heads that were turned to them now moved back and Yoongi hid his blade.

“Where’s the fucking restroom?” Yoongi hissed. You took his hand and led him over to the left side of the room, slithering through the crowd.

Two guards were already situated at the doors as Yoongi kept a grip on your hand when you walked into the restroom. The bright lights made him groan in annoyance.

Anyone who saw them enter immediately rushed out. The tension in the auction was so high that nobody wanted to be found near an angry gang leader.

Yoongi leaned forward on the marble sink, breathing ragged and his limbs shaking from anger. The last memory of his mother now rested in someone elses’ hands. Why couldn’t she come up with something less physical? Something that couldn’t be stolen. Namjoon was holding it now. I’ll snap my fingers. He was right. He had the power. There was no ultimate leader to call the shots. Just however reached the flag first. And if he reached first—no. He shook his head. Namjoon wasn’t the problem right now.

He let the water run, wanting the sound to drown any visions or thoughts that made bile reach up to his throat.

“Yoongi,” you muttered, rubbing his arm. “You okay?”

“I tried—I kept my cool but—when you mentioned you—” he rubbed his face roughly. “I—fuck—I could’ve killed him. I could’ve killed him.”

“But you didn’t.” You caressed the back of his head. “It’ll be okay. I know it feels like all the strings that surfaced are jumbled but they’ll come together. We’ve been through much worse than this, okay?”

Yoongi sighed. “I remembered her for the first time in years.” He chuckled sadly. “I thought I lost those memories a long time ago.”

You felt your eyes burn at his voice cracking. Yoongi never talked about his mother. There were only vulnerable moments in the dead of night when Yoongi couldn’t sleep. That was the first time he ever mentioned her. The first time she saw tears in his eyes. “We’ll get it back. No matter what, I promise.” That promise engraved in your mind.

***

The next morning, you rose in nothing but your champagne silk robe and sat at your study. Handwriting letters until your fountain pen emptied of ink and the steaming black coffee turned tepid. Park Jimin held the Kim familys’ prized jade bracelet and Namjoon held the Min Familys’ diamond gun. Clearly, the scandal spread further than the two gangs but your current priority is ensuring a war won’t break out between Namjoon and Yoongi.

Jimins’ death would also result in only chaos.

Gold sunlight gleamed through the white transparent curtains, beaming rays reflecting against the dark mahogany of the study table. Despite the mess in your brain, the morning itself was peaceful. You made sure Yoongi slept a few hours longer than normal so his daily alarm had been temporarily disabled.

Everytime he drowned in his emotions, Yoongi worked himself to the bone as if to make up for his vulnerability. You knew that would only taint the progress they had so far on the investigation.

You sent the letters out through different messengers. They will be followed through an underground trail until it finally reached the two gang leaders. Cupping your now hot cup of coffee, you let out a deep breath, emptying your lungs of the stress as you looked out the painted window of your study.

There was still time left to relax before they started work. Giving the empty cup to a maid, you walked back up to your bedroom.

Yoongi stirred underneath the white, cotton sheets. Bars of gold light shining down his pale skin through the blinds and a cool air kissed your flesh.

Door locked, you padded closer and gently climbed onto the bed. Yoongi draped a tattooed arm over your waist with a drawling hum under his breath.

“Where’d you go?” His voice vibrated through the fabric of the bed, cheek pressed against the pillow and raven hair covered his eyes.

“I sent letters out to the leaders for a meeting.” You kept your voice soft, caressing the dog silhouette on his arm.

Yoongi groaned in annoyance. “I really don’t wanna talk to that asshole. Can’t we do it another time?”

“The most important thing in the world to you has been taken. This is the meeting that’s going to help you get it and you’re going to back down?”

Yoongi rubbed his face before staring at you. “The most important thing in the world to me is lying down right here.”

You smiled, fingers tracing his chest. “The second most important then.”

“That’ll be our dogs.”

You chuckled. “Darling, you know you want it back. This is also going to prevent any brawl between Jimin and Namjoon.”

Yoongi hummed in agreement. In the moment of silence, he reached out and cupped your cheek. You leaned down and kissed him. You moved down, peppering kisses on his jawline and neck.

Yoongi let out a shaky sigh as your lips grazed his chest, gentle brushes against the tender skin where his prior wounds used to be. Trailing your tongue down his torso, the blanket slid off the edges of the bed.

Your hand reached down and gently cupped his crotch, earning a hiss from the man. Yoongi grabbed onto your hair, breaking the kiss so he could look at you. You graced him with a smile. Biting down your lips, you descended down his stomach. Slow pecks down his torso as your fingers hooked the hem of his boxers.

Pulling down the soft material, the tightening member sprung up, blushing at the tip. With another smile, you wrapped your lips around the tip and swallowed the length until it disappeared into your mouth. You closed your throat around his tip before pulling back. Yoongi hummed. Heat exuded from his body blocking out the cool breeze of the air conditioner, adrenaline seeping through his exhaustion.

Spit dribbled down your chin as you took his length again, bobbing you head. Your free hand wrapped around the base, squeezing until you heard a whine. Yoongi fisted the sheets and the other hand buried in your hair. Madness clouded his mind watching your head bouncing on him, drooling at the edges of your mouth and tears glossing your eyes.

Fire burning in the pit of his belly, he held onto both sides of your head and thrusted into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat making you whimper. He felt the tightness of his release just hearing the sound of your gagging. The way you obediently stayed still as he fucked your throat. Your panties felt heavy and hot with your arousal, desperately needing to be touched. One hand snuck under your robe, rubbing the soggy material.

Yoongi pulled his length out, enjoying the way you tried to catch your breath before staring up at him in tears. Pulling you back up, he flipped you both around until your body was bent over the soft bed, cheek pressed against the sheets. Pushing up your robe and pulling down your panties down to your knees, he positioned himself at your dripped entrance. Without another warning, he pushed himself in. The sheer squelch and stretch could’ve had you unraveling in seconds.

Vulnerabilities of the early morning had you dripping and softened to the slightest touch of ecstasy. Yoongi shared the same impatience as he fucked into you. Barely any remorse, arousal splattering at every thrust. Nectar dripped through the expensive sheets as the bed shifted from his movements. He grabbed your shoulder to push in deeper until the soft walls of your cervix hugged his tip.

Your moans and his heavy breathing melded together in a melody that reverberated throughout the bedroom. He nudged a thumb through your rim, pushing and hooking before pounding into you again. You fell full and overwhelmed, wanting to explode and fall apart.

You gripped onto the sheets until her nails dug into her own palms. Yoongi pushed your dress up further, caressing your back before smacking your bottom. Another whimper left your lips. He smacked it again.

Yoongi turned you around, lifting you onto his lap. Your back rested on the wood headboard as your arms wrapped around his neck. Sleeves of your robe drooped down your shoulders, barely hanging onto your body. Arousal squirted out of you making both of you laugh. Yoongi let out a blissful sigh as he quickened his pace. The headboard could’ve cracked from the pressure, breathing short and rapid like the speed of his thrusts. Lips latched on the curve of your neck as the pleasure trembled through you.

Before he could mutter anything, you felt the warm liquid burst inside you. Filling your womb until it spilled through the sheets. Yoongi snuck his hand between your legs, pushing you to the edge as your lips barely brushed against each other.

Bliss burst at the seams, ricocheting through every limb until your legs trembled, clasping tight around his hips. Yoongi kissed your jawline and your temple. “Fine.” He breathed out. “One meeting.”

You giggled as your breathing tried to catch up. “Good.”

next chap >>

#yoongi #thebtswritersclub #yoongi imagines #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfiction #bts fanfiction #yoongi mafia au #bts mafia au

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something-tofightfor · 3 years

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Christmas in July #7: If The Fates Allow

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader (’Starlight’ / NSFW Alphabet Ezra and Reader)

Word Count: 2,915

Rating: G? There are some slight mentions of sexual content, but it’s mostly Ezra ... fluff? Who the F am I? This takes place before the events of Prospect, and pretty early on in your relationship with Ezra ... so it’s very much A Good Time.

Combined these two requests for @the-blind-assassin-12 and @pheedraws for Ezra ... and made it extra sweet. Thank you both for reading and supporting me every step of the way ... and for giving me a chance to write another glimpse of Ezra before he becomes the man as we know him. I imagine this man to be SO FOCUSED on details - we see it in the movie, so why wouldn’t he be like that in every aspect of his life? ALSO. I feel like he is so interested in Earth customs and traditions, even if they’re not the same ones that are celebrated on The Ephrate. I hope you both (and anyone else that reads this) enjoys it.

If you were being honest with yourself, the relationship you were building with Ezra was surprising. Not because the way you felt about him was surprising, but because of the speed at which things were progressing. Your early Autumn meeting led to a few dates, followed by a weekend away together, and before Final Harvest, you were together, the two of you showing up places arm in arm and introducing each other in an official way.

It wasn’t that you were shocked by it as a whole; instead, you were surprised that Ezra had been the one to initiate the pairing and progression nearly every step of the way. From the moment he’d first flirted with you on the quad to the suggestion that the two of you spend your first Christmas together, Ezra had taken the lead, and you were more than happy to let him.

You typically went home to visit your parents, and Ezra traveled for at least a few days to see his brother for the holiday, but neither of those would be the case this year. Because he wanted to spend it with me. It made you happy - just like Ezra made you happy - and since you were on winter break from all of your courses, the two of you had been spending nearly every spare moment together.

His place was smaller than yours - a single bedroom apartment over an art supply store a few blocks off of campus - but it was inviting nonetheless, and when he’d asked you to come over to spend the night a few days after your break started, you couldn’t agree fast enough. And he said he has a surprise for me. You were smiling as you hurried down the sidewalk and toward his building, an overnight bag slung over your shoulder. But what else is new?

Ezra himself was a surprise, and not only because of the way he spoke - the way he treated you was a big part of it, too. You’d dated your fair share of guys in your time at the University, and none of them were like Ezra. Saying one thing but doing another, telling you what they expected without giving you a chance to do the same in return, the same tired physical encounters … every interaction more mundane than the last. But Ezra? That word isn’t even in his vocabulary.

You’d learned quickly that Ezra’s vocabulary was extensive - and not only limited to the classroom. He was a scholar through and through, and you’d been shocked when you’d first seen his place; a large bookshelf on one wall, notebooks full of his neat handwriting stacked on his desk, relics from other planets and their histories scattered thorough the small space. The way he explained things to you would have been condescending coming from anyone else, but in Ezra’s way, it made sense - it was just who he was, and the way he behaved was yet another callback to the education and area of study that he’d immersed himself in for most of his adult life.

You couldn’t wait to give him his Christmas gift - a leather bound volume of collected stories from the planet he’d spent the most time researching, and a place he’d admitted that he wanted to visit before he died, even though he knew it was unlikely he’d be able to. You’ll get there, Ezra. Someday. That was another difference between Ezra and most of the other men you knew, you thought as you pulled open the door that led to the staircase up to his place. When Ezra decided to do something, he did it, finding a way to make it happen, making promises to himself that he wouldn’t let opportunities pass him by and sticking with them. Trips to the remote and largely uninhabited Milky Way Galaxy were few and far between, but if anyone was going to make a journey there happen, it would be Ezra.

Lifting one hand to knock on his door, you waited until he’d called for you to come in to twist the knob. Stepping inside, you were met with the smell of ginger and lemons, the sound of quiet music, and the sight of Ezra standing in front of his small stove and stirring a pot with a long-handled wooden spoon. “Ezra?” You set your bag down on one of the couch cushions and stepped into the kitchen after removing your shoes, unable to keep the smile off of your face. “What are you doing?” He still hadn’t turned to look at you, and so you slid one of your hands up the center of his back, pressing your chest against the arm he wasn’t using to stir whatever it was that he was cooking.

“I’d hoped to have this done before you got here.” He cleared his throat, turning his head to the side and pressing his lips against the top of your head. “But I was waylaid by finding something else, and so …” He sighed, winding his arm around your waist. “So it’s not done.” There was a long pause, and even though he didn’t sound upset, you knew that he was slightly disappointed in himself. “I’m making us a drink while I wait for what’s in the oven to bake.” Bake? What did you bake? “Get out two coffee mugs.”

You did as he asked, slipping out of his hold and reaching up into the cupboard to pull them both out, sliding them across the small counter and toward the man. For the first time, you noticed that there were other ingredients waiting on the flat surface - lemon juice in a small glass, a jar of honey, a pair of cinnamon sticks - alongside two bottles of liquor. “Ezra, what -”

“Holiday traditions were … are important to people, correct?” You nodded as he lifted the pot from the stove, pouring the contents between the mugs. “And I thought … that since this is what I know, I’ll show you some of my favorite traditions from the place … and the people that are responsible for us being here today.” Oh. He means … While Ezra was a historian by nature, and his focus was on the history of other planets and people, his focus was on Earth and the people that had lived there. “Some of them are similar to the ones we still have today - needled trees and lights and presents. Spending time with those we care for.” As he spoke, he added ingredients to the mugs - lemon juice and honey, stirring them quickly to combine them. “Whiskey or brandy?” He looked at you, brown eyes sparkling in the overhead lighting. “It’s a matter of preference, both -” “Whiskey.” You chose without pause, and Ezra nodded, unscrewing the cap and adding a generous pour into each mug before adding additional honey and a slice of lemon. “What is this called?” He didn’t speak again until he’d picked up the cinnamon sticks, dropping one into each mug and holding one of the containers out to you. “A ‘Hot Toddy’. It’s not the only traditional Christmas drink, but it’s one that you can savor - especially when it’s cold out, like today.” He lifted his mug, waiting, and yours followed, the rims clinking together before you brought it to your lips and took a cautious sip. That’s good. “You like it.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in reply, taking a second sip. “This -”

But he was interrupted by the beeping of the oven’s timer, and Ezra’s eyes closed, a furrow appearing in his brow. “Let me have your mug, Ezra.” He handed it to you and then turned away, opening the door and using a towel to pull out the baking sheet within. I know that smell. “Is that gingerbread?” Your eyebrows rose. “I haven’t had that since I was -” “It is.” He set the sheet down, and you saw that he’d already cut the dough into shapes before baking them; the silvery surface covered in cutouts of animals and people. “I wasn’t sure if you …” “My grandmother used to make these cookies.” You were grinning, grip on both mugs tight. “But after she … we never had them again. My mom didn’t have time to bake, and I thought … Ezra, this is… you didn’t have to do all this for me.” He turned the oven and stove off, dropping the towel on the counter before he turned to take his drink back from you. The man’s eyes didn’t leave your face, but you could see that the frown was gone, his expression relaxed again. “What?” Tilting your head to one side, you watched him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Come sit with me?” He spoke quietly, and there was none of his usual flourish - just an honest, simple request. “There’s more.” More? Blinking at him, you nodded, and a few seconds later, the two of you were seated on the couch, drinks on the table in front of you and his arm wrapped around your shoulders. “I have always been curious about the people who … the ones that were here before us. The ones that … helped us get here.” You know that - both from the lecture he’d given and from what you’d learned about Ezra in the previous few months of knowing him. “But my fascination with these people and places goes well beyond their circumstances. I want to know what -” “You want to know who they were.” You understood; it wasn’t enough for the man to know history - he wanted and needed to know what motivated the people who’d lived it. “What they did, how they acted. You want to know them the same way you’re getting to know me.” Sitting up, you turned your head to look at Ezra, still smiling. “There should be more people like you, Ezra. More people that care.” He was quiet for long moments, eyes moving over your face as he stared at you. You heard the song change, for the first time realizing that you were unfamiliar with what was playing, and narrowed your eyes as you concentrated on it. “Is this -” “Christmas music. From Early Earth.” He held up a hand, closing his eyes. “This is one of my favorites, actually. It originated in the 1940’s, and was written for a movie. There are dozens of versions of it, but there’s nothing better than an original.” You both went quiet, listening to the lyrics of the song - a woman singing, her tone sad, even though the words had an uplifting message. You let yourself get lost in the music, barely even registering the fact that Ezra had reached out for you until you felt him squeezing your fingers between his, attention going back to the man’s face just as he began to sing. “Through the years we all will be together, If the fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough … And have yourself a merry little Christmas now…”

“Ezra…” You were unsure of what you wanted to say - you’d never heard him sing before, and even though he was doing so quietly, his eyes averted to stare at the carpeted floor, you were astounded at the sound of it. Is there anything he can’t do? There weren’t any festive lights or a tree in his apartment, and he hadn’t decorated the same way that you knew most people did for the holiday, but you’d never felt cozier; the man’s eyes warm and inviting when he finally met yours with them, and the feeling of his hand against yours grounding. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

“There are a great many things that we still have to learn about each other.” He leaned closer and you closed your eyes, ready to kiss him - but he turned his head at the last second, lips glancing off of your cheek and stopping just in front of your ear. “Look up.” Startled, you did as he asked, tilting your head backwards until you found what you were looking for. A bunch of leafy green branches with small white fruits was tied with a red bow and hanging just above where you were sitting on the couch. What is that? Confused, you backed away, eyes moving between the man in front of you and the plant above you. “That is mistletoe.”

“I’ve never heard of that. Why is it … on the ceiling?” Ezra pulled his hand out from yours and brought it up to your cheek, tracing the tips over the skin there. “Another tradition.” He grinned at you, glancing up, too. “If you’re caught beneath mistletoe with someone, you’re supposed to kiss them. It’s not only for luck, but it symbolizes life, too.” He paused, one eyebrow raised. “Bright green and flourishing in the middle of winter?” That… I get it. “It’s bad luck not to kiss under it.” And he hung it right over the couch. Without blinking, you stared back at Ezra, teeth digging into your lower lip as if you were deep in thought.

“Well I definitely don’t want any bad luck, Ezra.” Bringing your hand up, you brushed his hair away from his forehead, beginning with the blonde patch and then moving down, curving your fingers back and around his ear to follow the slight waves. “So are you going to kiss me or not?” “Indeed I am.” His lips barely moved as he murmured the words, face inching closer and closer to yours until he was kissing you, hand sliding to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place. It made sense - the way he hadn’t kissed you the moment you’d walked into the kitchen, or when you’d first sat down onto the couch. He was waiting. He wanted it to mean something.

You tasted the whiskey on his tongue as he kissed you; tinged with the lemon and cinnamon, and you couldn’t help crawling onto Ezra’s lap without separating from him, knees on either side of his thighs and digging into the cushions beneath them. It still shocked you each time Ezra’s lips met yours to feel how much he put into the simple act of affection. They weren’t just kisses; he was sharing himself with you, pouring emotion from his body directly into yours, or letting it wash over your skin - and even thought it was still new, you knew that you wanted it to last.

When he finally pulled away so that both of you could breathe, you let out a shuddering exhale, feeling that he was stroking over the back of your neck with his thumb, grip possessive but not restrictive. “D’you hang up mistletoe over your couch whenever you have a girl over for the holidays, Ezra?” He scoffed at that, but it was quiet, and he shook his head back and forth.

“You’re the first. But now that I know it’s a successful means to receiving affection...” That made you laugh, but before you replied, you kissed him quickly on the mouth, tightening your arms around him.

“I’m surprised that you didn’t hang it above your bed, then.” He froze at that, but you didn’t, pushing off of the couch and to your feet, holding out a hand to the man. “Just about any other guy that I can think of would have done exactly that.” It was the truth - no matter how well-intentioned they were, none of the men that you’d ever dated previously would have passed up an opportunity to incorporate the bedroom into something like kissing beneath mistletoe. But Ezra did. Because he’s not like any other man.

You moved again, lifting one foot and then the other to stand on the couch, both arms over your head as you pulled the greenery down, your fingers closed around the ribbon-tied stems. “What in Kevva’s name are you doing, woman?” When your feet were both planted firmly on the floor again, you held the mistletoe above his head, looking down at the man still sitting on the couch, both eyes focused on your face and his hands settled against his knees.

“Thought you said it was bad luck not to kiss if you were under this stuff, Ezra.” He wet his lips as you moved the plants, holding the bunch over you. “I -” His hands were at your waist before he stood, Ezra’s body pressed to yours. There we go. “That’s what I thought.” You managed only a few words before he kissed you again, your arm falling to your side and dropping the mistletoe onto the short table behind you. Arms going around his neck, the two of you held each other and stayed connected by the lips until you needed air, parting reluctantly.

“I think,” he began, voice low as he tilted his head down, trailing his lips over the side of your throat. “I think that it’s time we start our own Christmas traditions.” You shivered, both hands gripping the ends of hair hair that rested along the nape of his neck. He used one hand to tug the neckline of your shirt down before kissing the hollow at the center of your chest and then straightened back up, pupils blown wide and his lips parted. “Are you amenable to that?”

You didn’t answer him verbally, instead nodding twice and taking one of his hands in yours before you turned, tugging him even closer to you. Very much, Ezra.

---

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youryanderedaddy · 4 years

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Hello dear, hope you’re having an amazing day/night as yourself ♡ and tysm for taking my request before, Stone Cold! I am very impressed by your writing! I was about ask could you do part 2 or something like that? I am so curious what it would be their relationship; would she be okay with him? Him, taking her with him when he has mission on abroad? Or completely various scenario? While all being a bit smutty, a g a i n? It’s okay if you wouldn’t take the request, ❤️

Thanks, I am really happy you liked it! I didn't know how to put more than two situations so i just went with general headcanons.

For starters, there is no way you would be fine with Egdar's advances. The man's got issues.

He is an assassin after all, which means that he has seen all of the world's misery and suffering, the darkest pits of humanity. He knows too well how deep people are willing to fall for something as petty as revenge, money or fame. The killer is constantly surrounded by gangs, thiefs, underground dogs - he's the worst of them all anyways. You, on the other hand, are so pure, so different from the disgusting creatures, lurking in the dark. He can't help, but admire your innocence and optimism - you are his little ray of sunshine in the twilight world he is forced to live in.

And there is no way he would let someone filthy and undeserving taint you, princess. Edgar would most likely lock you up in his small, cold apartment any time he has to leave to go on a mission. And if he has to go somewhere far, far away, he could always find someone to watch over you while he's gone. His friends may be ruthless criminals, but even they know better than to touch you without his explicit consent, so for the most time you are safe.

Which doesn't mean that the assassin is always soft and gentle with you. He really tries to be patient and kind, but he is so used to getting whatever he wants at the exact moment he decides he wants it, that it's hard for him to accept your refusals. His job requires blood and violence - so it's not a big surprise that Edgar doesn't know how to communicate trough problems without using his fists (or knife, but that happened only once).

If you ever try to escape and get caught, don't expect much sympathy. The man believes that every action has an equal opposite reaction and if you hurt him, soon you will be the one suffering out of the two. And already having all those shiny blades, pretty collars and heavy, secure chains at hand, the murderer won't hesitate to show you exactly where you belong - on the ground, underneath him. Only once you start to behave properly would he return to his sweet, calm, collected self and comfort you.

The man spends all his days torturing and killing pests which leads to a lot of underlying frustration. It wouldn't be an understatement to say that he loves the sight of fear and defiance in his victims. Well, the same could be said about his sexual needs. Egdar loves you, but he also wants to see you shatter, whimper and be reduced to nothing more than pray for his sharp crawls to catch and dig into. He loves a little fight in you, because he enjoys putting you in your place afterwards. The assassin has no problem pinning you down and fucking you slow and nice for hours on end or egding you again and again just to see the raw desire in your eyes when he finally lets you cum. He might seem selfish, but in reality he always prioritises your pleasure, and how could he not? The little moans you try to hold back are something that turns him on greatly so he never misses a chance to bring you over the edge, overestimulating your body to exhaustion.

On a more personal note, the assassin loves warm hugs - he could cuddle with you anywhere and everywhere, even if you keep pushing him away. He also really enjoys cooking for you, helping you choose an outfit - all these domestic little things he never thought that he would be able to experience, leading the sinful life he did.

Overall to him it doesn't matter how you see him - whether you have feelings for him, fear him or genuinely despise him. As long as you are still his at the end of the day, he's more than satisfied.

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, princess. I mean it."

#yandere #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere concepts #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere assassin #yancore #yandere headcanons

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Persephone's Symphony | Night One | Persephone

Hey lovelies, here's the next part. It's a little longer-- I got carried which, if you know me and my work, tends to happen frequently. I do hope you all enjoy and thank you so much to everyone who has sent me kind words and thoughts and ahhhh thank you!! I am forever grateful. Now, without further adieu...

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: meh some angst, some talk of death-- the normal for this series

Word count: 5.2k (omg)

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Master List

The rest of the day goes smoothly. Well, as smoothly as a day can go when there’s someone out there trying to kill you. Maybe smooth is the wrong word. For dinner she pops a frozen pizza in the oven— she’s already used up her quota for homestyle cooking on the grilled cheese and, besides, Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. If he does then he doesn’t say anything about it, at least. He pounds back five slices— she really doubts he hates it that much. She eats three. Had it just been her she would have eaten one— maybe. She doesn’t have the energy these days to eat more than that. It’s a paradox, one that has her going to bed tired and waking up exhausted most days.

Something is different with him though. She wants to eat more because it means that she gets to sit a little longer at the creaky wooden table and pretend to be normal. She never thought feeling normal would mean eating cheap pizza with her bodyguard in a safe house but, well, they say normal is relative, right? Usually she eats in the dark, under the glow of whatever movie she deems fit to fill the silence that night. Sitting across from him makes her feel like she has some semblance of her old life back. Like she has a life at all— even if he’s being paid to sit there and listen to her prattle on about nothing.

After dinner is a little more awkward. She spends the next two hours milling about, pretending to read this book of dogs she had found earlier on the coffee table. She had always wanted a dog when she was younger, one of those huge great danes, charcoal black and big enough to snuggle with. The kind that would keep her safe and follow her everywhere she goes. There’s one just like she had always imagined on page one hundred and nine. Sleek and beautiful and huge. That’s probably why she keeps going back to the book.

All she really does is look at the pictures, not that she would tell him that. She can see him glancing at her every so often and she would like to keep her guise of being smart up for as long as possible. She wasn’t lying when she told him that she was the top of her class— she was, and valedictorian too. She is smart. Well, smart when it comes to technology at least. The rest is debatable. Her mother used to tell her that she’s book smart— that if she were kidnapped and dropped off in the middle of nowhere she would be screwed.

If only her mother could see her now— could see that she’s holding up.

You know, if holding up means wanting to scream and cry and throw this stupid Big Book of Dogs against the wall because she can’t scream and cry. She’s holding up on the outside— that’s what matters. If everyday is as bearable as this one then she’ll be able to do all three before she knows it. She’ll be able to sit in the dark, spoon in one hand, Chunky Monkey in the other, and throw whatever the fuck she wants at the wall. For now, though, she just has to look at the pictures of the great dane and swallow her screams like they’re ice cream.

Eventually she stands, shifting on her feet, trying not to cringe when the boards squeak under her. It doesn’t make his head turn and look at her— how can it when his stare has been burning into her since before she stood up? She doesn’t really know what to say— it’s nine-thirty and she could sit there for another two hours— two or three or seven, what’s the difference?— but there’s no point in pushing the inevitable. Eventually she is going to have to get ready for bed and then, by default, actually go to bed.

How is that going to work?

A picture of her laying next to him pops into her mind, one where her limbs are curled tight against her chest, her legs ramrod straight, afraid to even do so much as breathe. Not out of fear that he’d hurt her or anything like that, though. Out of fear that she’d embarrass herself is more accurate. That she would wake up— if she even slept at all— with her body sprawled on top of his like the protagonists in one of her cheesy, unrealistic rom-coms. This isn’t a movie— she doesn’t want it to be. If this is her life’s movie then she wants to have a word with the director. She wants out. This isn’t the script she agreed to.

She doesn’t know what to say so she doesn’t say anything, only gathers her bag from where she stashed it next to the couch. A threadbare messenger bag big enough for a few pairs of leggings, her older brother’s Dodgers t-shirt, and some toiletries. She slings it over her shoulder, acutely aware of the fact that his gaze never leaves her, watching as she straightens and turns, meeting his icy blue eyes without so much as a hint of shame forming in them. Why should he be ashamed? It’s his job— he’s being paid to stare. That’s what she tells herself. It doesn’t make her feel any less exposed— any less seen.

For a moment she just looks at him— like really, truly looks at him. Sure, she’s been with him for roughly twelve hours now. Theoretically she’s had plenty of time to look at him. And of course she has— there’s no way she could have avoided it even if she wanted to. She has looked at him just not like this. Not the details. The facts. That’s what this is— a fact finding mission. Yeah, that sounds right— that’s what she’ll say if he asks, at least.

She takes in his face first, craning her neck slightly to do so. Slightly means far enough that your head touches your shoulders now. She ticks things off in her head as goes— bronzed skin, strong jaw, straight nose. She finds it hard to believe that his nose has never been broken. She drops lower— pink lips, the bottom one fuller. She doesn’t linger there despite the ache that grows in her throat. When was the last time she kissed a man? Too long ago.

She continues on her mission before she has time to stop and think about what it means to stare at her bodyguard’s lips and think about kissing. Absolutely nothing good, that’s what. She tries to distract herself with his broad shoulders and the way his henley stretches at the seams, scrounging for any and every ounce of space. For a moment it works. She starts thinking about the kind of regime one would have to undergo in order to get to his size, then about where he has to buy his clothes, before finally landing on what it would feel like to slip her arms into his shirt and to be totally engulfed—

Nope— she flicks her eyes even further down, skimming over something that, though she’s been looking at it for the better half of all day, she still can’t wrap her head around. His hand. His metal hand. She can feel his stare turn to lead on her forehead— feel him waiting for her to ask.

She’s not going to.

Not because she doesn’t want to know the story. Of course she wants to know! Her whole life is— or at least was— technology. She wants to know why he needs it, who made it, what it’s made of, if it’s connected to his nervous system, if it’s— the idea is there. She’s curious— she’s a scientist. Just like it’s his job to keep her alive, it’s her job to be enthralled by innovation.

That doesn’t mean she’s going to ask though. She likes him too much to do that. He’s nice enough to her and he doesn’t treat her like the little orphan girl that everyone else does. He doesn’t tiptoe around her— not that he could. He’s too big for that. He just doesn’t treat her like a freak, so she won’t treat him like an experiment.

And, of course, he’s a human being not a machine. That’s probably more important. She likes him and he’s a human. Priorities or whatever.

She meets his gaze again, watching him watch her, her face setting on fire. “Bedtime?”

What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?

He presses his lips together, holding her stare for a beat before shrugging his shoulders, giving the henley a run for its money. “Bedtime.”

She turns at that, scampering up the stairs, listening to the thumping of his boots against the hardwood. It’s not a race but it’s also not not a race— she wants to get to the bathroom before he can so she can lock the door. She needs five minutes. That’s it. Just five minutes. Maybe it is a race.

“Hey— shit— wait!” She doesn’t, she only pumps her legs harder, almost slipping as she bolts into the bathroom, slamming the door and clicking the lock shut.

He really thought she wasn’t going to try that, huh? She learned her lesson this afternoon— the man takes his job very seriously.

The knob jiggles and she sticks her tongue out at it, finally in a space where she can let her bones relax. For the first time all day it feels like her skin isn’t on fire. It’s weird— she almost misses it. The door handle jiggles harder. Almost.

Five minutes, that’s all she needs.

His voice cuts through the door and she almost groans out loud. “You know I’m supposed to—”

“I know—” she starts pulling things out of her bag, hastily dropping what she doesn’t need and gathering what she does onto the vinyl countertop, very much aware of the ticking clock— “but the window in here isn’t even big enough for me to crawl out of so I think I can brush my teeth, yeah?”

She can practically feel the stress rolling off him, seeping under the crack between the door and the tiled floor. Half of her feels guilty but the other half couldn’t care less— she’s a grown ass woman and she will use the toilet without help.

She hears him let out a loud sigh and practically jumps in excitement— she won. “Fine— you get ten minutes, got it? Ten minutes and then I break this door down.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” Thank gods he can’t see her right now or she would most definitely melt through the ground.

“You’re down to seven now.”

She shakes her head at her reflection, scrunching her nose and rolling her eyes at herself— “That’s fair.”

She hurries to slather some toothpaste on her brush, plopping it into her mouth as she shimmies out of her daytime leggings and into her nighttime ones. A fashion icon. She somehow also manages to take her dad’s hoodie off, avoiding the toothbrush and replacing the tank top underneath with a fresh one from her bag. Take that, Barnes.

She scrubs at her teeth, simultaneously digging through her pile of things for the deodorant she knows is in there. She finds it after a moment, rinsing her mouth and running the bar one too many times over her armpits— there’s absolutely no way she’s about to go into that bedroom with even the slight possibility of smelling bad. Especially when she still doesn’t know the sleeping arrangements.

She swipes her things back into her bag, shoving them in roughly, not noticing the hairbrush teetering precariously on the edge of the counter. It’s like it’s taunting her, just waiting to get her in trouble. That’s exactly what it does, too— just as her eyes meet the sinister blue plastic it’s too late, the brush already hurtling off the edge and crashing against the floor. Of course it has to hit the tiles head on and miss the hoodie by an inch. Time freezes for a moment when she hears the clang— well, there go the last three minutes of solitude.

She scrambles back just as the door slams open, fully expecting it but not any less startled, the area where the lock would be splintering into a million tiny pieces of wood— of dust— he pulverized the door! Her heart pounds furiously as Bucky surges forward, his jean clad legs pressing against her exposed shoulder, his body rigid as he does a full circle of the tiny bathroom, yanking back the shower curtain as if an assassin would really think that is the best hiding place. God she’s so fucking mortified.

He doesn’t move away from her when he finally looks down, his dark eyebrows drawn into a tight line, chest heaving so hard she wonders if the material is going to split right down the middle. His leg against her is hot, even through the material. Almost as hot as her face— face, neck, shoulders, toes.

“What happened?”

She meekly holds up the blue plastic brush, squeezing her eyes shut. “He just snuck up on me Bucky— I thought I was a goner.”

She cracks an eye open to his clenched jaw, his still heaving chest now much lower— closer. He takes the brush from her hand, setting it on the counter before offering his own hand— the flesh hand— out to her. She takes it, letting him effortlessly pull her body from the ground without so much as even a grunt. Before she knows it she’s eye level with the buttons on his shirt, leaning all the way back in order to meet his simmering crystal eyes.

“We’re not doing that again.” We’re. As in both of them— a team.

She tries to keep from trembling at his deep voice. It doesn’t work. He notices— of course he notices— and takes a step back. She doesn’t have the heart— or the gall— to tell him that she’s not shaking because she’s afraid of him.

“It was a hairbrush.” She sighs, curling her arms around her chest, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever under the surprisingly bright fluorescents.

Of course now, when she’s standing in a flimsy tank top, is the one time the lights aren’t dimmed.

He doesn’t back down, seething his words between his teeth. “This time— this time it was a hairbrush.”

She shakes her head, dropping her eyes and bending to scoop up her hoodie— she doesn’t want to see him angry at her. It makes her feel guilty; like her her chest is caving in on itself. She doesn’t need that on top of everything else.

“Fine, whatever.” She grabs her bag, brushing by him.

She knows that she’s being childish. She isn’t an idiot, contrary to what her mind likes to tell her. She’s just exhausted. Exhausted of having to always look over her shoulder, exhausted of wondering who’s going to die next— if she’s going to die next, exhausted of having to actively try to stay alive. She’s just exhausted in general. She doesn’t want to die but, gods, if she isn’t so damn tired of having to think about it. Aren’t you supposed to just live? Not think about living?

She pushes open the door to the bedroom, dumping her bag next to the cedar chest at the end of the bed, refusing to turn around when she hears his footsteps— much quieter than she’s yet to hear them— enter behind her. She crosses her arms again, digging her fingers into the flesh hard enough to give herself something to focus on other than how much she wants to rip every strand of hair from her head. Her eyes wander over the olive duvet, noting how the color makes the black iron frame pop in contrast. Maybe she should change up her bedroom back home.

She bites her lip— she’s stalling. It’s a queen sized bed, more than big enough for both of them. Maybe she should offer it to him. There’s barely any room on the floor to sprawl out, only a small space either next to the dresser beside the bed or in front of the chest. Either way he would probably have to lay as stiff as possible to avoid bumping his limbs. The right thing to do would be to offer it to him— to take the floor.

She listens as he takes a step, the air behind her shifting, and she tenses. “Look, I think we should talk—”

“Do you want the bed?” She tries to keep her tone balanced— to keep from hurling the words at him like daggers. Or like hair brushes.

“I’m serious, I’m sor—”

She whirls around, her hair flying around her face, features schooled but tone edging closer towards being unhinged— she just needs to sleep. “Do you want the bed?”

She doesn’t meet his eyes— she’s tired of that game, it's time to start a new one. This one’s called how long can y/n stare at the buttons on his henley until before she sets them on fire out of sheer willpower. His chest deflates, his hands twitching at his sides before curling and slipping behind his back. He’s looking at her— of course he is. It’s all he does. It’s his job.

“You take it.” He says it so quietly she barely hears it, his tone the picture of resignation. It doesn’t make her feel good— she didn’t think it would though.

His stare never leaves her. She’s still not looking at him but she can tell. It makes her skin burn from her ears all the way down to her chest, her skin prickling like she's being prodded by a thousand mini suns. She feels like she’s in the desert and she forgot to put sunscreen on. Is this what flowers feel like? Does the sun beat down so relentlessly on them that they feel like they’re being set on fire? As relentlessly as he watches her?

It’s his job, it’s his job, it’s his job.

“Okay.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She lays in bed for three hours, eyes wide open and body pin straight. The room is pitch black, spare a hint of light pouring in from under the door. It shines a stripe onto the olive duvet, one that she just barely flicks her wrist back and forth through. Not enough to ruffle the loud blanket— which for the record crinkles louder than a chip bag when she moves even an inch underneath it— but enough to watch the light dance over her skin and keep her from going completely mad. She feels like a cat chasing a laser— entirely moronic but strangely entertained. Alas, all good things must come to an end.

By the time the fourth hour rolls around she is beyond restless. The strip of light got old a half hour ago— which, granted, kept her entertained for far longer than she would be willing to admit but still. Now she wants to move. She needs to move. If she were home she would still be awake. The digital clock beside the bed flashes one-thirty, scarlet red and glaring at her. It’s not even close to the ungodly hour in which she usually crawls into her bed, pulling the blanket over her head and praying for the sun to magically disappear. Not even close.

She can practically hear Lindsy Lohan calling her name— it’s Wednesday, y/n. On Wednesdays we wear pink. Yeah, she knows Lindsy! Unfortunately the big man on the floor doesn’t know that. Usually her Wednesday's aren’t so blocked— is it even Wednesday? It doesn’t matter. She just wants to watch Mean Girls now— with or without the Chunky Monkey.

She waits another ten minutes, mulling the idea over as the anticipation steadily grows in her stomach, churning her organs into soup over the idea of having to tiptoe past her sleeping bodyguard. She holds her breath a few times, making sure his breathing is even and calm. Making sure that he’s asleep. Each time his breaths are the same, gentle, even hiss of air. In, out, pause. In, out, pause. Over and over and over again. For a moment she debates staying and just listening to him breathe for the rest of the night. But no— that’s creepy and she’s sure that she can be in and out without him waking up in the hour and thirty-seven minutes it takes to watch the movie.

Yes she counted and every minute is worth the risk— she’s doing it!

She takes a deep breath, sliding as silently as she can under the covers. Each movement feels magnified— like someone is holding a microphone to her limbs. She just prays that the microphone isn’t connected to his ears. What are the odds that he’s a heavy sleeper? Nevermind, she doesn’t want to know.

After what feels like an eternity of inching her way to the edge of the bed her foot finally shoots over the edge, greeting the chilly air and sending a jolt racing up her spine. She’s really doing it. She slips the other out next, rising onto her elbows and holding the position. She can’t see her legs— hell, she can’t see her hand two feet in front of her face— but she can feel the space depleting as she slips off the mattress. Biting back a hiss as her toes brace against the hardwood, she just barely stops herself from hopping up and down. If she were home she would amp up the theatrics, maybe throw in a squeal for good measure— forget technology, being a drama queen is her true calling.

Just not when there’s a man who she needs to stay asleep laying a few feet away from her.

She shuffles blindly forward, trying to remember where she saw him lay down before she turned off the lamp. That was four hours ago though and she’s starting to think that all that time playing with the crack of light has fried her brain. She thinks he’s near the chest but she can’t be sure.

She could swear—she could drop the loudest f-bomb this planet has ever known. She would, too, if she knew it wouldn’t wake him up. All she wants to do is watch some petty, pretty girls fight over a mediocre brunette. Is that really too much to ask for?

No— the answer is no. So she does what any self respecting woman would do in that situation and she wings it. She guesses. That’s respectable, right? Right. She takes each step with care, searching for any warm spots that might give her a hint as to where he is, all the while chasing after that little crack of light like it’s heaven. Because that’s what it is— a haven from having to lay alone with her thoughts all night.

As was to be expected sooner rather than later, her toes brush against a rather hot patch of wood and she freezes. He’s here— somewhere— she just has no idea where here is. She squints, searching for even a hint of the man. When she comes away with nothing, the scream— the one that’s never quite gone, always just simmering in the back of her throat— surges. She has to swallow— swallow, gag, same thing— in order to keep from foiling her own plan.

She brushes her foot forward. Slowly. Painfully, excruciatingly slowly. When her toes brush against the folds of a blanket she gasps. It slips out before she can stop it and she plasters a hand over her mouth as soon as it happens, praying that it isn’t too late— that there’s still a chance she can make it.

She hears Bucky shift on the ground, holding her breath, her toes a mere foot away from the soldier. She counts in her head— one, two, three, oh fuck is he moving, four— before taking another step. Repeating the process, it takes four rounds of this little tip toe game until her hands finally land against the door frame, searching through the darkness until her fingers curl around the knob. Mean Girls here she comes.

“Where ya’ going?” Bucky’s voice cuts through the night easily, rich and deep and cruel.

There isn’t even a hint of sleep in his tone— he was awake the entire time. Her face flushes, her neck searing hot. She can almost hear her skin crackling where the straps of her tank top touch her. She should have known he wouldn’t be a deep sleeper— or sleeping at all, apparently. Damnit.

“I, ah, was just going to the bathroom?” Really? The bathroom?

She has never been so thankful for the dark than she is in this moment, if only because he can’t see the way she rolls her eyes at her own stupidity and scrunches her entire face up. She can’t scream— that idea’s already been scrapped— so it’s the next best thing. That doesn’t stop her throat from bubbling though, the frustration knocking on her windpipe like the friendly neighbour back for even more sugar.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” She swears for a moment she can hear a hint of laughter in his voice, just enough to make the accusation bearable.

She whirls around, hands glued to her hips and trying not to slam her foot down like an insolent toddler. Something hot flares up in her chest— something which she hasn’t felt in ages. Anger. It makes her want to smack him. She wouldn’t, of course, but she wants to— she wants to wipe the smirk out of his words. She wants to more than she’s wanted to do anything in a very long time.

“What do you want me to say then, hmm?”

She can just make out the way Bucky pushes himself up, his shadowy figure now taking up more space. Taking up space in general— of course now she can see him. If she were closer to him she is sure his head would sit above her belly button, right under her brea— stop that, y/n!

“How ‘bout the truth?” God she can still hear that insufferable smirk.

“That was the truth.”

“It wasn’t.”

His breath comes in hot puffs against her stomach— he’s closer than she thought. She doesn’t realize her tank top has ridden up until his face is inches away from her exposed skin. She tries not to shudder as she yanks the material back down her abdomen. Traitorous body!

She wants to rip her hair out— again. “Yes, it was—”

He’s standing now, pushing his way towards her in the dark until she can feel the heat rolling off his body, face to face with a hulking chest. “Just tell me what you want so we can do it, alright?”

There it is again— we.

She can’t breathe. This seems to be becoming a trend— her not being able to breathe when he’s around her. This time it’s her fault though. She squishes her eyes closed, taking a moment to pull in some much needed air. It does little to help her— it smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. She has no idea how he manages to smell like a bakery— or how she hasn’t noticed until now, when she needs more than anything to pull away from the warmth and not fall deeper into it. Unprofessional, y/n— you’re supposed to be the grieving daughter.

She takes another moment, ignoring how he shifts on his feet, clearly becoming impatient, before finally whispering— “I wanted to watch a movie.”

A pause— a long one— before a soft ‘okay’.

For a moment she thinks she hears him wrong— no way the giant soldier is down for movie night with her. Shouldn’t he be telling her to go back to bed? Telling her that it isn’t in his job description to babysit her— to keep her entertained? Surely he doesn’t actually want to watch a movie.

“You don’t have to—”

“Actually, I do.” Oh yeah. He has to follow her wherever she goes. She almost forgot that she might die.

Die for what— wanting to watch a god damn movie?

“Forget it— it was stupid.”

She goes to brush past him, tucking her shoulders up and into her neck, trying to put some space between them as she tucks tail and slips back towards the bed. Talk about a busted ego.

A hand curls around her forearm, halting her retreat. “Let’s watch a movie— can’t sleep anyway.”

She swallows thickly. If she were to turn her cheek a few inches she is sure it would brush against his shoulder.

“Are you sure?”

“‘Course I am.”

She nods— she knows he can’t see her but she doesn’t trust her voice— and that’s how she ends up watching Mean Girls with a man large enough to rip her in half with his bare hands. A few times she glances over at him, searching through the glow of the TV to the other side of the supple leather couch where his gaze remains locked on the screen. She’s even sure she hears a few breathy laughs— like he’s trying not to laugh but he can’t help it.

The big bad bodyguard likes chick flicks.

About halfway through something unexpected happens— her eyelids begin to heavy. It’s stange, the clock on the wall reads only slightly past two in the morning. She never sleeps before six. Regardless, though, she curls her legs into her body, tucking them under the hoodie she had replaced before leaving the room. Her head slopes against the arm of the couch, eyes fluttering a few times before dropping shut. She’s not going to sleep, obviously— just resting her eyes.

She feels something heavy pool on her lap and the faintest wisps of fingers— some warm and some cold— adjusting the new weight. It brushes against her shin— a blanket. He put a blanket on her. She pulls it closer, dragging it over her cheek, trying her best to stave off the sleep tugging at her limbs. Maybe a conversation will help. There are a few things she’s been meaning to tell him.

“I didn’t mind it.” She whispers it but she’s sure he can hear her over the all but muted TV.

The couch cushions shift, sinking for a moment before stilling. She can picture him facing her now, his head tilted, blue eyes serious. Always on alert, always ready to defend.

“What?” He even sounds defensive— like he’s waiting for her to drop a bomb on him.

Silly man, can’t you see that she can barely even force the last word out of her mouth with how tired she is?

“Doll. I—” she yawns, pulling her limbs closer to her, tucking a hand under her head— “I didn’t mind it.”

He doesn’t say anything right away. If it were daytime she’s sure she would have cared but for now she’s okay not feeling any of the prescribed embarrassment.

“Oh.”

She doesn’t say anything else, only snuggles deeper into the arm of the couch. It must be the exhaustion talking— that’s what she’ll tell herself tomorrow anyway when she’s forced to confront this conversation again. For now she just gives in, letting herself fall into the darkness without fear for what feels like the first time in months.

_________________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky @elijahs-wife @cari1bunny @im-just-star-dust

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #mcu #mcu fic #mcu imagine #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fic #reader insert #Persephone's Symphony

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onlyanidala · 3 years

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onlyanidala fic archive

These are fics with titles J-P.

A-D E-I R-T U-Z

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more anidala fics can also be found in our fic tag!

the link for each fic can be found by clicking the title!

Title: just a bliss Author: stranestelle Status: complete Rating: T Summary: A lightheaded Anakin Skywalker wakes up to the heavenly vision that is Padmé Amidala. Can you blame the man for wanting to kiss his wife on the spot? Well you can, when the whole thing is witnessed by a room full of senators caught in a hostage situation... and she'd really rather they had waited for later.

Title: just carry me home tonight Author: gemma Status: complete Rating: R Summary: "I – I didn't mean to, it's only that… Well, the Force, it lets me feel… What you feel, and I know this wasn't exactly what you imagined for your wedding night, so I…" His flesh hand rose to scratch his neck awkwardly, "I suppose I just wanted to make this special for you…"

Title: king of my heart Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: T Summary: Anakin Skywalker's holiday to the small country of Naboo takes an unexpected turn when he unknowingly foils an assassination attempt meant for Padmé Naberrie, the nation's Crown Princess. Saving a Princess is crazy enough. The only thing crazier... well, actually, there are a few things. Things Anakin is well on his way to experiencing.

Title: lights in the valley outshine the sun Author: elizabeth7 Status: complete Rating: G Summary: What would happen if Padme survived and Darth Vader finds out? Padme & Anakin Darth Vader.

Title: look into my eyes it’s where my demons hide Author: shelivesfree Status: WIP/Unupdated Rating: T Summary: Each time he comes back to her, a little piece of him is missing... left out there, in the field, with his brothers. She can see it in the way he smiles and it doesn't reach his eyes. In the way he cries to himself when he thinks she's not awake. And all she can do is hold him.

Title: lost Author: pinkeastereggs Status: complete Rating: G Summary: “I feel lost." “Lost . . . what do you mean?” Padme couldn’t help but frown, searching for any signs on her husband’s face that could give her an insight to what he meant. But Anakin was just frowning to the side, seeming conflicted about something. He seemed distant, his eyes filled with an emotion that the young wife couldn’t begin to describe. How long had Anakin had this look in his eyes? Had she been oblivious to it before now or was this something new? Anakin and Padme have a heart-to-heart when he admits to feeling lost and frustrated with the Jedi Council. With truths about his relationship with Palpatine coming to light, Padme fights to talk some sense into her husband.

Title: madam president Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: R Summary: Between late nights and headaches and mountains of paperwork and fierce opposition from her political opponents, President Padmé Amidala already had enough on her plate. And then she just had to go and fall for one of her bodyguards, a relationship which would ruin her reputation and his career if anyone were to find out about it. Also, someone's trying to kill her.

Title: make the world a little colorful Author: estrangedlestrange Status: WIP Rating: G Summary: The morning after meeting her soulmate, Padmé woke up and saw color for the first time. In the midst of a political crisis, Padmé had just met a gungan, two Jedi, and a slave boy and his mother. She, like any rational young woman, assumed the padawan learner was her soulmate. Ten years later, after having accepted that she would never be with her soulmate, Padmé, reunited with both her supposed soulmate and the slave boy, she realized how wrong her assumptions were. The slave boy, Anakin, who had looked at her with wide hopeful eyes and asked if she was an angel, was her soulmate.

Title: the masterplan Author: stranestelle Status: complete Rating: T Summary: In the midst of the endless galactic conflict, Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala have made a shocking discovery that brings more questions than answers. And maybe, just maybe, an end to the never-ending war. Sequel to Give Me A Signal.

Title: mother knows best Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: M Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away.... Shmi Skywalker Palpatine had ruled the Galactic Empire on behalf of her son, Anakin, since the death of his father. For his part, the next Emperor has been content to leave politics to his mother and engage only in military exercises. All that is about to change as Padmé Naberrie, former Queen of Naboo, comes seeking aid for her charity, Amidala's Crusade, and Anakin's long-dormant crush comes surging back. What should be a perfect match is opposed by a mother determined not to lose her son and convinced hers is the only way...

Title: no colors in our skin Author: JTHM_Michi Status: Abandoned Rating: T Summary: Anakin grew up knowing that his masters called him the wrong words. They all called him “girl” or “girl-child” and it was just another way for them to dehumanize him. He didn’t know that, of course, not in those words, but it was true enough. His mother was always very clear with him, from the first time he came to her and asked her if she knew which master had taken his “boy parts”, that just because his masters called him a girl didn’t make him one. a.k.a. the Transgender Anakin Skywalker Verse

Title: no heroes on the high seas Author: spellcleaver Status: complete Rating: T Summary: When Luke's aunt and uncle are executed by order of the Emperor's right hand, Lord Vader, he flees his home to search for his sister and the mother he never knew. But then Obi-Wan Kenobi stows away aboard the same ship, Vader gives chase, and Luke is dragged into a conflict that his family are at the very heart of. Gen.

Title: nos cedamus amori Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: M Summary: Anakin is a gladiator and a slave. Padmé is the wife of the Roman emperor's heir. Circumstances should never even allow them to meet, let alone fall in love.

Title: of mutated worlds Author: gemma Status: WIP Rating: M Summary: Nobody saw the end of the world coming. It happened overnight, no warning, no escape. They came from the shadows, biting, paralysing, and killing little by little until they were the majority. One day, everything was normal and then, suddenly, Padme Amidala Naberrie woke up in hell.

Title: of options and comlinks Author: estrangedlestrange Status: complete Rating: G Summary: In that moment it seemed like there were only two options: help Master Windu arrest the Chancellor and secret Sith Lord or heed to Sheev Palpatine’s begging and turn against the Jedi. But then, in a split second, a third option revealed itself.

Title: order 66-S Author: disco shop girl Status: complete Rating: M Summary: The order was to exterminate all Jedi: Past, Present and Future. Captain Rex has a different plan. Order 66-S: to save General Skywalker.

Title: parent-teacher conference Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: G Summary: Anakin has to meet with the twins' second grade teacher after Leia punches a classmate in the face. But he hadn't counted on Ms. Amidala being quite so pretty.

Title: pas de deux Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: M Summary: When Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker meet at their mutual friends' house party, the sparks immediately fly, resulting in a one night stand that both of them want to be the start of something more. Except it turns out that Padmé works at the ballet company Anakin just took over. And Anakin is in the middle of a very heated divorce as he tries to gain custody of his daughter Leia. With pressure coming at them from their private and professional lives, making their fledgling relationship work will prove the biggest role of a lifetime.

Title: the path of the dark Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: T Summary: Vader triumphs. Padmé resists. Series:Three Paths Not Followed. Series: The Darker Path.

Title: perfect Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: G Summary: The war is over, Luke and Leia are five years old, and Anakin and Padmé finally have the peaceful life and big family they've always dreamed of. But their life is about to get a little less peaceful and their family a little bigger.

Title: perfect strangers Author: catiiasofia & misschrisdaae Status: complete Rating: R Summary: Anakin Skywalker meets a masked angel at a Halloween costume ball, and the two of them hook up for the best night of his life. But when the morning comes, she is nowhere to be found. Padmé Amidala forgot to get the name of a guy she hooked up with at Halloween before running out for work on November 1. A few weeks later, she realizes she's pregnant. Two perfect strangers, certain their paths are never going to cross again. Oops.

Title: pipe dream Author: skywalkersamidala Status: complete Rating: T Summary: Padmé's new plumber is the most attractive human being she's ever laid eyes on, so naturally, she keeps faking plumbing emergencies so she can keep seeing him.

Title: pocket full of sand Author: philthestone Status: complete Rating: T Summary: “I’m Leia Skywalker,” she says, and there is something unfathomably life-changing about that little declaration. “We’re here to rescue you!” Luke remembers the circumstances of his mother's arrest with a frustrating amount of clarity. AU series where Anakin never falls, Padme is a spy in the senate, and the dynamic duo of Force Sensitive twins don't know they're related.

Title: purgatory Author: helent Status: complete Rating: T Summary: A newly dead Anakin Skywalker wakes in a new world - given the appearance of his 23 year-old self. However, the self-sacrifice that ended his life has also given Anakin an unexpected boon that he isn't sure he can accept. Worse, it comes with conditions that might just be impossible to meet. A moment of redemption is one thing, but a full reformation another entirely.

#anidala #star wars #sw #fic recs #sw fic recs #fanfic #fanfiction #onlyanidala fic recs #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #sw fanfic #sw fic

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thewaynemanner · 4 years

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Wholesome BatFamily Fic Rec’s

Hey All, so here is my BatFam Rec List you all have been asking for! Lol jk no one has asked for this, but I made it anyways! So here are my All-Time Favorite BatFamily Fic Recs, for the most part these Recs are all rated either “G” for General Audiences or “T” for Teen and Up Audiences. So basically, all these fics focus on family dynamics and relationships rather than slash or anything like that. These are all truly amazing fics so give your Kudos and love to the authors! And remember to always read the tags before you read the fic!

And So This is Christmas by DragOnstOrm

Summary: It's not that Alfred isn't happy with his job. It's just that sometimes he really wishes that he had known what he was getting into when he signed up for it.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,901

My Comments: Folks, stories don’t get much more wholesome than this fic. After reading this fic I was left warm and happy. Also, it stars my boy, Alfie, which is usually extremely rare for fics. Loved that we got to see Alfred’s perspective in this! Great fic!

Bedside Manner by @fishfingersandjellybabies

Summary: Sometimes Bruce forgot just how great his kid was.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 2,985

My Comments: Anything @fishfingersandjellybabies writes is truly fantastic, but I particularly loved this one since it delved into the sweeter side of Bruce and Damian’s relationship that we don’t get to see often (especially in cannon). I love me a good hurt/comfort fic 😉

Bet on it by @lysical

Summary: Even Damian could admit that his older siblings occasionally had their uses.

"I need your assistance," Damian said, voice low and tense.

"No," Jason replied, and hung up.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 2,495

My Comments: Lysical writes some of the best BatBrother Fics out there, folks. So if you want some wholesome and hilarious Bat sibling bonding, then look no further! Bet on it, is one of my personal favorites of Lysical’s. Great writing and great characterization!

Blood in the Water by MishaBerry

Summary: We all do stupid things when we are lonely, and in faraway lands, we hardly expect the consequences to follow us. Bruce certainly never thought twice about an American woman in Jaipur after one night with her. He hardly expected to see her ever again.

The universe, on the other hand, had different ideas, and the tides of time and chance brought Tim Drake to Bruce's life over and over again.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 181,939

My Comments: FANTASTIC AU! One of my favorite Tim Drake centric fics, but still has plenty of the rest of the BatFamily. I also love that we get to see Tim as his sweet six-year self. This story has it all, great characterizations, good plot, angst, fluff, and BatFamily bonding 😊

Cracked Foundation by @cdelphiki

Summary: The last thing Damian expected to happen when he ran away from home was to spend a day crammed into a small space with Jason Todd. His father's second son was a black sheep. An outcast. An angry, insanity driven criminal who enjoyed screwing with the batfamily in every way he could. At least, that's what Damian thought. Maybe he was wrong about Todd.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 20,902

My Comments: This is a brilliant fic that examines the relationship between Damian and Jason. I absolutely loved this fic and never wanted it to end. I truly wish there were more Jason and Damian Fics out there, I think it’s a character duo that isn’t explored nearly enough. If you love Damian and Jason brother bonding fics, you’ll love this one and if you’ve never read a bonding fic between these two brothers, you may just find a new love!

Five Times Jason Todd Saved His Brothers, and One Time They Saved Him by laceymcbain, reena_jenkins

Summary: “Did you know I was in here, or did you just blow up the place for fun?”

Damian didn't need to see Todd's face to know he was grinning under the helmet.

“It's not really a rescue unless something blows up. But if Bats asks, it was completely necessary."

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 6,923

My Comments: This fic is BatFamily feels to the extreme. Jason Todd deserves love and this fic gives it to him. LOVED IT <3 <3 <3

Fly By Night by @lysical

Summary: Damian is thirteen. Sometimes he even acts like it.

"This is an injustice," were the last words Damian had spoken to his father all day.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 2,889

My Comments: Another great Fic by @Lysical! This is just a plain ol’ fun Fic, y’all. Great Bat Brother love in this one and it also features my sweet summer child- Jonathan Samuel Kent. Trust me you will love this Fic, it is hilarious and all around good stuff 😊

A Good Place by @lemonadegarden

Summary: Damian Wayne is kidnapped and sent back years through time. Together, he and Father – who's only been Batman for a mere six months –must figure out how to return him to his own time.

Over the course of the next week, Damian discovers that Mexican gangsters do not mess around, that social workers find Bruce annoying, that Bruce might be a little messed up, and that crystal chandeliers create the fondest memories.

Oh. And Alfred has hair.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 36,903

My Comments: LemonadeGarden is one of my All-Time favorite authors, so anything written by them is brilliant. But A Good Place will always be a favorite of mine, it is by far my favorite Damian & Bruce centric Fic out there and is something I have read over and over again. I love getting to see a younger Bruce interact with Damian and in turn, Damian interact with him. It’s overall great and has a fantastic plot!

Let There Be a Bruise by @audreycritter

Summary: Damian is a child who should not have the scars he does; Bruce is a father who has plenty of his own scars, but still wishes he could take his son’s, too.

The silver lining is where they find each other— a broken son and a broken father, putting each other back together.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 3,656

My Comments: Audreycritter is the master of Damián & Bruce Hurt/Comfort fics. I honestly would recommend all of Audrey’s fics, so check them all out! But this one will always be a favorite 😊

Life Happens by @cdelphiki

Summary: While walking home from an event at Wayne Enterprises, Tim and Damian are kidnapped and sent to an alternate dimension. In a world where superheroes are merely comic book characters and the idea of the multiverse is only a theory found within the pages of science fiction, how are Tim and Damian going to return home? How long will they be stranded on this strange Earth? And will the boys murder each other before they figure it out?

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 176,966

My Comments: Hoo-boy, folks. I don’t even know where to start with this Fic. I honestly get teary-eyed thinking about how beautiful it is and how much I loved this one. My favorite Tim Drake and Damian Wayne brotherly bonding Fic EVER. I would almost describe this Fic as a love letter to the characters Tim and Damian, in the sense that the author captures their characterizations beautifully and tells one of the best stories of growth and familial love I have ever read. It’s fluffy, angsty, humorous, and full of BatFamily feels. And don’t worry, there is plenty of Dick, Jason, and Bruce as well (If not a little later in the story). I would run to this Fic, if I were you.

Life, if Well Lived by CaptainOzone

Summary: Jason wakes up from a time-travel mishap to find Thomas and Martha Wayne hovering over him.

Just another day in the life, right?

...Not quite.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 10,758

My Comments: A Fic that destroyed me in the BEST way possible. Tears, so many tears were shed during this fic. The best Hurt/Comfort fic I have ever read. Extremely unique in the sense that Martha and Thomas Wayne are two of the main characters and boy did I love it! I can not stress how AMAZING this Fic is. I never knew I needed this fic in my life until I read it. I wish I could re-read it for the first time all over again. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE IT!

My Brother’s Keeper by Forever_A_Thief

Summary: The boy had two options, two roads stretching out before him: stay with Mother, and become the greatest assassin ever known to man, or go to Father, and become a masked vigilante fighting for justice in a city drenched in darkness. Damian looked at these two roads, these two lives he could lead, and decided on a third path for himself instead. He chose his own road.

Jason never let himself think about the kid he had left behind at the desert compound all those years ago. When Talia never got in touch with him after his return to Gotham, Jason had assumed he had just been forgotten like he had been in Gotham. But then that kid, his little brother, showed up one night and Jason couldn’t just continue to push him to the back of his mind. Not anymore.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 43,907

My Comments: Did I mention I love Jason & Damian fics? Well I do and this one is beyond FANTASTIC. Overall great Bat-Bros fic that I would recommend over and over again. This fic is Damian and Jason centric but it does involve the rest of the Bat Family too. I love seeing all the brother’s bonding in this fic and the overall family feels 😊

Of Owls and Assassins by Cirth

Summary: "Dick," Bruce says, not entirely sure how to react, "who is that?"

Dick blinks at him from his place on the workout mat. There's a broken plate with mac and cheese strewn all over next to him, as well as what seems to be Bruce's old G.I. Joe action figure from the attic. It looks like a child's imagining of a murder scene. "My owlet," Dick states.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 853

My Comments: The adorableness of this Fic is off the charts. I love AU’s where Dick is a Talon, but this one will always hold a very special place in my heart since Dick is just so pure in it. Forever a favorite <3

Party Games by @lemonadegarden

Summary: I can't believe you got into a bar fight at two in the morning. And now you're all in prison. The night before your wedding. What the fuck kind of a family am I marrying into?” Selina said.

Bruce Wayne goes to a series of bachelor parties, each one worse than the last. Set in the same timeline as We, So Much Older, but can be read as a standalone fic as well.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 12,659

My Comments: Okay, so technically this is a Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne Fic and even though the plot premise revolves around their upcoming wedding, I wouldn’t really consider this a “slash” fic. There is definitely more BatFamily vibes with this fic. It’s hilarious, fun, and oh so wholesome! I love this fic beyond measure and even if you aren’t a fan of the BatCat ship, I highly suggest you give it a shot for the amazing BatFam moments.

Second Chance by @cdelphiki

Summary: When Talia al Ghul watched her toddling son start his training, his awful, grueling training, she had an epiphany:

The League of Assassins was no place for children.

(Or: Talia realizes training literal babies is abuse and gets him out of there.)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 6,461

My Comments: This is the Talia al Ghul we deserve! This is the Talia al Ghul, Bruce Wayne deserves! THIS IS THE TALIA AL GHUL, DAMIAN WAYBE DESERVES! Loved this fic, great Talia al Ghul characterization. It’s the Talia that could have ben before DC slaughtered her character.

Running Headlong into My Arms by gleesquid

Summary: Bruce doesn’t like to credit one thing for saving his life, but if he did, it would be Haly’s Circus that Friday night in September, just as summer was beginning to die.

(He'll always be a sucker for kids with sad eyes, no parents, and more fight than the world knows what to do with.)

Or: in a universe where superheroes don't exist, Bruce Wayne finds his family.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 54,231

My Comments: I feel like this fic is a right of passage into the BatFamily fandom, so if by some chance you haven’t already read it, I highly suggest you move this straight to the top of your reading list. It’s a classic and has everything you could ever want in a BatFam Fic.

we are not alone in the dark by @audreycritter

Summary: Damian has a flashback on a family camping trip.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 2,218

My Comments: A BatFam camping trip, need I say more? One of my favorite hurt/comfort fics involving Damian. We get to see some super sweet moments between Bruce and Damian, and Damian and Jason. Loved it.

Where You Go, I Follow by @fishfingersandjellybabies

Summary: In some world, Dick Grayson was never revived by Lex Luthor, and was probably better for it.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,427

My Comments: BROKE MY HEART, but in the best possible way. I cried both sad tears and happy tears for this fic. LOVED IT! I have read it at least six times (I’m going read it again after I post this rec). A fantastic Dick & Damian story. I also love the title; it captures the mood perfectly. I’m always a sucker for fics that are inspired by songs, this one was inspired by ‘I Will Follow You’ by Toulouse!

Video message incoming by helenabertinellis

Summary: The League are just wrapping up their meeting when a call comes through the Watchtower servers.

It's for Batman.

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 1,228

My Comments: I consider this a classic BatFam fic, so I will be shocked if you haven’t read it, but on the off chance that you have not read it, GO READ IT NOW. It’s humorous and all so wholesome 😊

Yesterday’s Voices by @lemonadegarden

Summary: While trying to take down a drug cartel that deals with memory altering drugs, things go awry, and Batman wakes up with no recollection of the last five years.

As a result, his family must now race against time to find the antidote, while also having to deal with a Bruce who still thinks Jason is Robin. A Bruce who doesn't recognise most of them. A Bruce far less jaded and cynical than the one they're used to. A Bruce who still cares.

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 49,000

My Comments: Surprise, surprise another amazing fic by LemonadeGarden. I will be shocked if you haven’t read this fic yet, but on the off chance that you haven’t, I am telling you now, to RUN to this fic. It will forever and always be my MOST FAVORITE BATFAMILY fic out there. I honestly wish this fic never had ended, it’s one that will always hold a special spot in my heart. THIS IS THE BRUCE WAYNE WE DESERVE.

For More Fic Recs Check-Out:

BatFamily Fic Recs part 2

BatFamily Fic Recs Part 3

BatFamily Fic Recs Part 4

BatFamily Fic Recs Part 5

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

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Dragon Three

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Felix (SKZ)

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of blood and gore, lots of sexy times with Felix, explicit smut, language, and alcohol use

Word Count: 7.8K

Genre: Game of Thrones AU; Fantasy AU

Summary: In order to stake her claim to the throne, Y/N must cross the narrow sea and destroy an enemy who has an endless barrage of assassins tracking her every movement. But at least she has her faithful advisor, Felix, by her side, and an intimidating army of Dragons who only serve their queen.

A/N: The title comes from a 3racha song which is totally cool and you should listen to it while reading this!

Spring was a time of rebirth and renewal - an opportunity for second chances and new discoveries. But for me it was different. Because I was destined for something greater, and it was nothing short of intoxicating.

You see, I sought redemption - and there was only one thing left standing in my path.

My remaining obstacle was a wealthy land across the narrow sea - and the final battle meant that I would need to conquer a distant kingdom with an army of skilled warriors by my side. It also meant finding the very best people to serve me, and there weren’t many who planned to turn against a woman with three powerful and very loyal dragons who served at her behest.

But there was still time for distractions - consider it a stress reliever - and I sighed in pleasure, eyelids fluttering when I looked at the flash of silver between my legs - a pair of blue eyes pronounced with desire. “Felix,” I whispered, tracing my fingers across the swollen lines of his lips.

“My queen,” Felix murmured softly in return, looking up at me from his place between my thighs, mouth glistening with the smeared mess of my wet arousal.

“Aren’t you going to finish what you started?” I asked him, hardening my gaze because it was delightful to see the way he submitted to me.

“I’ll do anything you want,” Felix promised, and I could feel his tongue lapping at my wet folds, sinking into my tight cunt with practiced skill.

I hummed in agreement, relaxing my head back against my pillows. When I met Felix for the first time, back when I wasn’t nearly as influential, he was nothing but a little boy who lusted after something that he could never have. But he still agreed to serve me, and his loyalty was nothing short of profound. Perhaps that’s why I eventually succumbed to his advances - agreeing to share my bed with him.

“Can I fuck you?” Felix asked, pulling me out of my thoughts with a guttural groan.

I smirked at him, pretending to think about his request while I made of show of lowering my gaze to the obvious bulge of his erection. “Are those new pants?”

Felix was taken aback by my random comment, but he swallowed hard before responding: “Yeah.”

“They certainly make your cock look bigger,” I said, reaching down to trace the outline. “But you and I both know that your little cock isn’t good enough, so I’m hesitating because I don’t know if it can satisfy me.”

The degradation brought tears to Felix’s eyes, but I knew they weren’t out of grief but rather pleasure. “Please, Y/N,” he cried. “I can make you feel good.”

“You’re just desperate to fuck your cock into anything, aren’t you?” I asked with a snarl.

Felix nodded his head, holding onto my thighs with clenched fingers. Truthfully, Felix’s cock was actually rather good - it wasn’t very girthy, but it was long and always managed to rub against my g-spot perfectly. But he didn’t need to know that - especially when he loved to hear me talk down to him, and his eyes were beautiful and bright with tears filling the corners. “I want to be good for you.”

“You always try for me, Felix,” I placated him, holding up my hand to wipe away some of his tears. “I’m a fair ruler, aren’t I?”

Felix nodded again. “The Seven Kingdoms will be pleased to have you as their queen.”

I smiled at his words. “Well, I want you to show me your best effort, Felix. Can you do that for me? Take out your little cock and please me like you promised.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Felix panted, and his fingers shook when he removed his belt, shoving down his pants and boxers before tossing them aside.

I eyed his cock with interest, licking my lips while he wrapped a loose fist around the base, moving his hand up and down while choking around a moan. Meanwhile, I spread my legs wider for him, watching the way his eyes glued themselves to my empty cunt. “Go ahead, Felix,” I said. “Show me what your cock can do.”

“I will,” he promised, looking at me with so much affection that it was almost suffocating. But in the next moment, he was moving himself closer, inserting just the tip as he fought to contain his emotions.

“Why are you holding yourself back?” I asked him with a frown. “Show me how these hips move,” I added while squeezing at his thin waist.

Felix nodded with a quiet groan, throwing back his head to reveal an expanse of beautiful, tanned skin. It was an ethereal appearance, and I could spend the rest of my days studying the shape of him. He was an elegant man with delicate features and a lithe figure that betrayed the impressive strength and resolve of his character - his desire to please the ones he respected the most.

“Y/N,” Felix said, brushing our lips together in a light kiss. His arms were shaking with the effort of holding himself up over me, releasing low grunts whenever he pressed himself inside. I melted at his ministrations - watching the sweat as it trickled down the sides of his temples, shimmering in contrast to his skin. Because this close, I could see every pore and defining feature - fighting to keep my eyes open to enjoy the delightful vision of his focused expression while his hips rolled in long, sensual patterns. Brushing my clit and filling my tight walls with his thick erection. Pulsating to the beat of his movements, and grazing my g-spot when he angled himself just right - using my thighs as leverage to keep us both as close as possible.

I hummed in delight when one of his hands came up to caress the side of my face - a light touch that contrasted to the quick motions of his deep thrusts. Penetrating my cunt with the same kind of desperation that Felix always seemed to reserve for these intimate moments together - like he wanted to prove a point to me. It wasn’t obvious, whatever it was, but the mystery of Felix was part of the reason why he appealed so much to me.

“I’m close,” I warned him because I could tell that he was straining to hold back his own orgasm. He was a selfless lover, always ensuring that my pleasure was obtained before he could even consider the possibility of his own release.

In return, his fingers teased my clitoris, and there was a proud smirk on his face as if he was enjoying the quick manner in which he had broken me down. “Come for me,” he said, but it was less of a command and more of a courteous request, and I finally let go of all my accumulating stresses, arching my back against the sudden pressure in my lower back - a tight knot that was slowly becoming undone around me.

And in the afterglow of my orgasm, I listened to Felix’s pretty sounds until something warm started to leak out of the place where he pulled out - leaving behind a mess that we would both ignore. Instead, he collapsed next to me on his back, breathing heavy while he turned around to face me. “Was that good for you?”

I grinned at his neediness, but I nodded my head because I knew that he considered his performances inside the bedroom just as important as the advice he gave outside of our personal affairs. “Of course it was,” I said, pecking his lips. “You’re always so perfect for me, Felix.”

His accompanying smile was brighter than sunshine, and I closed my eyes to the sound of a distant roar outside of our fortress.

It was a triumphant sound because it meant that my dragons had returned.

The stars were beginning to fade at the steady emergence of the sun, and I was walking across the bridge outside of the fortress to approach the sleeping forms of my dragons. They had arrived sometime the previous evening - making their anticipated return after journeying far away at my direction. I always worried about them when they were gone, but they had an uncanny ability to return to me even after weeks passed with no sign of their massive bodies creating brilliant shadows among the blue of the sky.

“There you are,” I remarked, smiling when Chan - my oldest and largest dragon - perked up at the sound of my voice. His scales bristled around a heavy yawn, reflecting a liquid black under the sunlight. “Chan,” I said, watching as he turned his giant head in my direction. “I missed you.” He grunted in return, attracting the attention of Changbin and Jisung who both startled awake at the sound of their older brother’s interruption.

In comparison to Chan, Changbin was the second oldest, and his blue coloring reminded me of the ocean. Then, there was Jisung who might be the smallest of his brothers, but his scales reflected a sharp silver color that made him appear constantly alert. Still, I laughed at their expressions, wondering how anyone could ever be cruel to these magnificent animals when they expressed themselves so completely with a subtle blinking of their eyes or a single noise to demonstrate their opinion.

But I carefully navigated around their powerful forms, pausing when I noticed the evidence of their last mission. “I’m very proud of you,” I said, running a hand along Chan’s spine as the eldest dragon purred at my praise. “Let’s have a proper reunion,” I suggested, taking several steps back so that they could dismiss the remnants of their slumber.

Meanwhile, I noticed the approach of Felix from my peripheral, and he looked unbelievably beautiful under the lingering effects of the dawning morning. “My queen,” he greeted me, pausing as he studied the three Dragons stretching their wings. “They’ve returned.”

“Yes,” I agreed, holding out one hand to gently caress the side of Chan’s muzzle. He gurgled in response before affectionately returning my gesture. “I think they made their point.”

I pointed to the side where the skeletal remains of the assassin waited on the cold, unforgiving ground. It was the third one this month, and I had grown tired of living in fear of them. But I also understood that it was a good thing - it meant that the Queen across the sea was afraid of me.

“I’m surprised they brought back anything,” Felix remarked, and he was suddenly next to my side.

“Well, I’m sure they wanted to show me that they did a good job,” I said, grinning when Changbin started nipping at Jisung’s wings. “Play nice, boys.”

Changbin turned to me in an instant, releasing a whining sound as if to show me his displeasure. “They obey you remarkably well,” Felix said. “After all, at their core, we’re talking about wild animals.”

“Oh, but they have good hearts,” I said, smiling when Jisung sniffled at my outstretched hand and I allowed myself to give him several pats on the neck. “Did you have something to tell me?”

Felix sighed as if he was burdened by the information he wished to share with me. “Y/N, we don’t have enough ships to cross the narrow sea, and our armies are growing bored with waiting around the city.”

“Hmmm,” I acknowledged him. “What do you suggest?”

“We could attempt to approach the iron bank,” Felix said. “They could give us the gold to build our own ships.”

“I suppose,” I agreed. “That might take more time than I’m willing to give”

“Well, we can always negotiate with the lords in the next city,” Felix suggested. “Perhaps we can offer them some of our overstocked resources. And I’m sure they’ll never say no to someone who rides on the backs of Dragons.”

“If that’s what you think will work,” I said, turning to look at him before placing a delicate kiss on his lips. “I trust your logic.”

Felix smiled, clearly pleased by my show of adoration. “Shall I find someone with a disposable navy?”

“Thank you, Felix,” I said, reaching into my pocket for a small treat, holding it out for Jisung who happily lapped it up with clear delight. “I think I’ll pay a visit to the iron bank tomorrow. We can try to convince them that investing their resources into our army will be of the utmost importance.”

“I’ll make the arrangements myself,” Felix said before offering me a polite nod of his head. “Will you spend more time with them?”

I grinned. “I have another mission for my Dragons, but I’ll join you inside before noon.”

Felix gave a noise of acknowledgment before I watched him disappear into our carefully guarded fortress.

Braavos was an intimidating city, and there were richly-clad men and women walking along the main roads touting their impressive assets and keeping themselves surrounded by the best that money could afford. I sneered at their ostentatious displays, choosing to travel with a few willing soldiers and Felix without all the ornament. The entire city was a complicated maze but the Iron Bank was, perhaps, the most impressive institution, and I studied the outline of the cathedral as it towered over our surroundings.

Felix managed to arrange a meeting with the most influential bankers, and I was rehearsing what I planned to say to those men in order to convince them that it was in their best interests to support my cause. The Iron Bank was notorious in its reputation, and the men who financed the institution didn’t just hand out loans to anyone unless it was certain they could be repayed. The expectation was pressuring, but perhaps this would be an objective opportunity for me to truly discern what everyone else thought about my cause and whether or not they believed in my success.

Yet, I was still unprepared for the apparent signs of hostility: “What is your business here?”

I blinked once at the aggressive question, tilting my head at the sole guardian who stood at the doors to the Iron Bank. “My name is Y/N,” I said. “Perhaps this can answer your inquiry.”

The guardian waited for another moment before bowing low at the waist. “Wait here,” he instructed me before disappearing inside the building.

I scoffed and turned to the side to glance at Felix. “Are they always this hostile?”

“They’re unkind to outsiders,” Felix answered, and I pondered over his words even after the guardian returned to lead us into a massive room where three men sat before us on golden thrones.

My first impression was rather hackneyed because the men were all older, clearly aged and experienced, and they wore matching haughty expressions of contempt. In the past, I might’ve felt intimidated by such a reception, but I wasn’t a scared little girl anymore. “Y/N,” one of the men spoke up over the others. “Welcome to the Iron Bank.”

“It’s just as impressive as I’ve heard through rumors,” I remarked, allowing my eyes to peruse the surrounding decor - noting the domed ceiling and pristine floors. “I can feel its history.”

“Is that so?” he asked. “Well, we’re honored to meet with someone who has caused quite a stir in our free city.”

“My reputations precedes me,” I said. “I’m very grateful.”

“We’re also quite curious,” a second man said. “What can we do for you?”

“Of course,” I acknowledged. “As my advisor has likely revealed to you, I’m in need of funding for a fleet of ships to carry myself and my army across the narrow sea.”

“How unexpected,” the second man remarked. “The last time somebody challenged for the throne, they couldn’t even make it to the walls of King’s Landing before they were obliterated.”

I shivered at his casual tone. “I have something different.”

“Yes,” the second man agreed. “But differences aren’t necessarily equal to guaranteed success.”

“Regardless,” I countered, “I see this is as a mutual opportunity. When I conquer Westeros, I will repay my debt and more.”

“Such grand promises,” the second man said. “But why should we believe you?”

“I’ve already conquered most of Essos,” I said. “Men have cowered in my presence, and the ones who tried to cross me have paid the ultimate price.” I grinned while chancing another step closer to the bankers. “This is an advantage for the Iron Bank. You’ll already have access to the next ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Yes, but we still don’t see it as an investment that will benefit the bank,” the first man said. “I’d consider your proposal a dangerous liability.”

“Because you don’t believe in my cause,” I said. “How foolish.”

“The current regime has reigned for decades,” the man said. “There’s a reason for its continued success, and that perseverance overshadows a grassroots rebellion.”

I huffed at his assessment. “What fails to convince you? The army serving me with a thousand men? My reputation across Essos? The three Dragons who fight at my side?”

“Even if you are successful,” the first man interrupted. “There’s no guarantee that you’d pay back the debt you will accrue.”

“My word is not enough?”

“Words can be deceiving,” he replied. “Actions are objective. They speak much louder.”

“Very well,” I said, resigning myself to failure. “But I will always remember your faithlessness.”

“Threats don’t intimidate us, Y/N,” the first man cautioned. “You’d be wise to remember this because you may need us again in the future.”

“We’ll see about that,” I said, and I turned my back on the Iron Bank because I would need to search for alternative means if I wanted to cross the narrow sea.

It was late when I finished my meetings with the people of Braavos, listening to their concerns and addressing grievances. It was tiring work, especially when I encountered situations where there wasn’t such a thing as an easy solution. I was exhausted, but there was nothing better to resolve my overflowing tension than arriving back in my room to find a naked Felix arranging a bath.

“Were you waiting for me?” I asked him, allowing my hand to skim across the skin stretching around his jutting hip bone before walking out onto the balcony outside.

It was bitterly cold, and I supported my chin against my upturned palm as my arm rested against the balcony - quietly observing my Dragons sleeping around the shelter of the forest. “You’re thinking hard,” Felix said, shameless as he walked out to stand next to me.

“I knew there were other options,” I said. “But today was the first time someone has dared to reject me.”

“I see.” Felix nodded, allowing strands of his silver hair to ruffle in the breeze. “I wouldn’t take offense to a bunch of old assholes who have nothing better to do with their lives than play with people like we’re puppets.”

“But isn’t the point of becoming queen to control those strings?” I asked him. “Otherwise, how will I lead the Kingdoms?”

“By being yourself,” Felix said, drawing my attention by using a finger underneath my chin to direct my head. “I believe in you, Y/N. You’ll do great things for the Kingdoms. Nobody will ever doubt you again.”

“But it still stings,” I said, lowering my gaze to his flaccid cock. “I suppose you had other plans for tonight besides consoling your queen.”

“I wanted to please you,” Felix said. “As always.”

“Well,” I said, trailing my fingers sensually down the bare skin of his chest. “Show me what you had planned.”

“It’s nothing extravagant,” Felix said, taking my hand before leading me back inside. “Take off your clothes.”

“Are you giving out the orders tonight?” I asked, although I was already undoing the intricate lacing holding my gown together.

“If you’ll allow me,” Felix said, and I watched him lower his body into the steaming bath water, groaning in delight at the sensation.

“I’m always grateful,” I told him, removing my gown while pretending like I wasn’t glad to feel his eyes on me the entire time. I joined him with a sigh of content, falling back into his embrace as we both silently enjoyed the water and one another’s company.

“Can I wash you?” Felix asked, and I nodded before laving a kiss across his jutting collarbone.

In the meantime, Felix reached for the soap and started to slide the bar across my skin, rubbing it between his hands to create extra suds. “What shall we do about the ships?” I asked around a moan, feeling him squeeze my breasts.

“Leave that to me,” Felix replied, rubbing his thumbs in sensual circles around my nipples.

“You know that I trust you with my life,” I said, and I could feel his cock growing erect against my lower back. “Who can we approach?”

“I have someone in mind,” Felix murmured softly, and he was unceasing in the gentle kisses that he was leaving across my shoulders.

His name was Lord Park, and there were rumors that his wealth surpassed even that of the Iron Bank.

“He’s our man,” Felix assured me as we stood outside of his lavish estate - waiting for someone to greet us at the front door.

“It seems like this gentleman has more money than he knows what to do with,” I remarked.

“He also has ships,” Felix said, trailing his fingers across the back of my hand. “If he agrees to help us, then we’ll be ready to sail before our deadline.”

“Good,” I said, smiling when I sought Felix from my peripheral vision. “You’ve done well.”

Felix beamed at the compliment while the gates of the estate abruptly opened, and an older man with graying hair and a thick beard stepped out to greet us. “My distinguished guests,” he said. “Lord Park is expecting you in the great room.”

“The honor is ours,” I replied with a bow - nodding at the soldiers I had brought with me as we stepped onto the impressive grounds.

My first impression was quite unforgettable - admiring the enormous columns and the elegant statues lining the path leading to the main entrance of a notable mansion. The doors of which were wide open, revealing a foyer with broad walls and an overarching ceiling that stretched to the heavens above. ”The mansion was constructed in the early ages,” our guide explained. “My esteemed patron had the chandelier installed himself.”

“How interesting,” I remarked, exchanging a quick glance with Felix.

“You may enter at your own convenience,” the guide said, pausing outside of a set of double doors. “Lord Park only asks that you leave your men here with me.”

I hesitated at the request, but Felix squeezed my hand in reassurance, and I took a deep breath before reaching out for the door handle. The room that I had entered reminded me of an office: bookshelves lining the walls with ancient texts, and an enormous table occupying the center of the room. “Close the door behind you,” an unfamiliar man said, and he stood next to the large window overlooking the grounds.

“Of course,” I agreed, and I followed his orders before walking in the direction of the table. “The pleasure is mine, Lord Park.”

The older man chuckled, and he turned around to reveal himself to me - fairly young, but with signs of his aging in the light peppering of gray in his dark brown hair. His grayish-colored eyes were narrowed, and he looked me over like I was a piece of meant on display for him. “I’ve heard many things about you,” Lord Park said. “Have a seat.”

I nodded my head to show my thanks before pulling out one of the chairs - watching Lord Park choose a spot across from me. “Your estate is beautiful,” I told him, and he smiled as he reached for two glasses and a pitcher.

“This wine,” he said while pouring me a generous amount. “It was made from the freshest produce in my vineyards.”

I accepted the glass from him with a careful hand - bringing it to my lips to drink a tentative sip. “It’s very sweet,” I said.

“It reminds me of you,” Lord Park remarked as he drank from his own glass. “You see, the wine is deceiving. It’s taste is quite sweet, but it’s made from a very rare ingredient known for its hard interior.” He paused for a moment, meeting my gaze from across the table. “You appear that way to me as well, Y/N. Your overall impression is sweet and innocent - you must know this because you have such a delicate body. Yet, underneath that facade is someone who is capable of destroying her worst enemies.”

“Hmmm...” I trailed off with a sigh was I traced the top of my glass with one finger. “I quite like the sound of that, Lord Park.”

“You’re a very beautiful woman,” he continued, raising his glass to me before finishing the remainder of its contents. “I’ve been told that you have a pressing need for my resources.”

“Your ships in particular,” I agreed. “I’m willing to repay you, of course. If you agree to let me use those ships, then I’ll try to accommodate whatever you might need.”

“There’s not really much that I do need,” Lord Park said, and he waved his hand around as if indicating the general grandeur of his property.

“You could consider this as a potential partnership,” I said. “I have an army, and you have ships without crews.”

“Yes, but I expect something in return,” Lord Park said, and he was wearing a lascivious smile. “What do you think a single man like myself could need?”

I chose to ignore his implications. “I have Dragons, sir. That usually convinces most men.”

“Dragons that serve you,” Lord Park remarked. “What good will that do for me?”

“They follow my direction,” I agreed. “But I could command them to assist you in other ways. Perhaps if there’s someone you would wish to see...vanish?”

Lord Park chuckled. “I have no such enemies, Y/N. However, I do have a rather notable lack of a suitable heir. Perhaps you could help me with that.”

“I see,” I said, nodding my head while tasting the wine once again - faintly recognizing the bitter taste under all of the embellishment.

“Of course, marriage is my price for complete access to my ships,” Lord Park said. “I hope that is no problem for you.”

“No problem at all,” I said, even though my stomach churned uncomfortably at the mere idea.

“Then it’s settled,” Lord Park said. “I’ll have your hand, and you can use my ships for your command.”

I forced myself to smile, even though I couldn’t help but feel trapped by the prospect. Still, I had to admit that it made sense considering his circumstances, and I desperately needed his ships. It was a fair trade on the surface, but deep down inside, I couldn’t help but feel cheated.

Despite the fact that I had tried to withhold my bargain from Felix, I knew that he would eventually corner me and demand the results. Thus, it wasn’t very surprising to see him storm into my bedroom that evening - eyes reminding me of a dangerous storm over the ocean. I trembled from where I sat in front of my mirror, gliding a comb through my hair as I greeted him with brusque tone.

“My queen,” Felix said, but the sentiment lacked his usual affection. “Don’t you think it’s unfair to keep me in the dark?”

“What are you referring to, Felix?”

He scoffed at my obvious evasion. “Lord Park ordered his hand to make arrangements with me for his ships, but I’m no fool, Y/N. What did he ask for in return?”

I carefully lowered my comb, looking down at my hands folded in my lap as I mustered enough confidence to reveal the truth. “I may have to marry myself to that Lord,” I said, and I glanced up in time to notice the hurt flash across his expression. “Oh, Felix, don’t be like that. You probably knew this from the very start. It was your idea. You told me that we needed to negotiate for new ships.”

“My idea?” Felix repeated. “Y/N, at such a high price, I would’ve sought alternative sources.”

“But I can’t take that risk,” I said. “Someone else might want something even more onerous, and this is a worthy sacrifice for our cause.”

“But I hate it,” Felix said, and there was a raw emotion that exposed his very soul.

“That’s a very dangerous thing for you to say,” I told him. “We both knew that those ships would cost us more than we might be willing to give.”

“Yes, but to bind yourself to him forever!” Felix decried, and I was so very upset to see his eyes gloss over. “Y/N, I’ve given you advice,” Felix whispered. “I helped negotiate for your armies! We raised your Dragons together!”

“Oh, Felix.” I sighed. “It disappoints me to hear you speak this way. I warned you at the very start of our affair that you should keep your feelings guarded.”

“Well, I couldn’t help it,” Felix snapped. “I love you, Y/N, and I won’t see you marry another man.”

“Then you won’t see me at all,” I rebuffed, steeling my gaze.

I knew that the threat was harsh, and Felix was obviously taken aback. “You don’t mean that,” he said, but I also detected a slight hint of uncertainty.

“Perhaps you underestimate my resolve,” I said. “Those ships mean everything to me, and they’re certainly worth more than your cock.”

My heart twisted painfully at the lie, but I was convinced that marrying Lord Park was the only way to earn my crown. And I couldn’t have Felix standing in the way because of his affections for me - no matter how I might feel about him in return. This was the cold reality of a true ruler, and I would have to get used to making these sacrifices for the betterment of my people.

“Do you really think of our arrangement as nothing more than a means to satisfy your own urges?” Felix questioned. “How can I believe that, after all this time, you only used me because I was able to fill your greedy little cunt?”

“I thought it was mutual,” I said. “Feelings are too complicated, Felix. Can’t you see how they’re breaking us down?”

“Because you’re allowing our relationship to amount to nothing more than fucking,” Felix countered. “I know that you don’t mean these things, Y/N. But I’m furious that you would lie to me for the sake of a potential marriage to Lord Park of all men. I’ll always stand by your side, even after everything you’ve said tonight, but you should be careful who you allow in such close intimacy.”

“I’ll consider your advice as always,” I said, and I returned my gaze back to the mirror just in time to see the reflection of Felix’s retreating figure.

The next evening, I wasn’t surprised to receive an invitation to dine with Lord Park at his estate. Apparently, he desired to understand his future wife and her aspirations, which brought me to my present situation: walking next to a stoically unmoved Felix as we greeted two servants at the entrance to the dining room. The man in question was already inside, and he walked around the table to greet me with a formal kiss to the top of my hand. “Our future queen,” he said with a sultry tone. “You look ravishing.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” I said, ignoring the way Felix glared at our touching hands.

“Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the place right next to the head of the table. “Felix, you can occupy the chair next to mine.”

“How gracious,” Felix muttered, but our host was generous enough to forgive Felix’s dismissive tone.

“Let’s begin,” Lord Park announced, and we all situated ourselves around the table as several servants entered the room with delicious-smelling platters and dishes full of delectable offerings. “I’ve prepared the best,” Lord Park said. “Help yourselves.”

I smiled in his direction before perusing the vast selections. “It all looks amazing.”

“Thank you,” Lord Park said before briefly glancing in Felix’s direction. “Felix, my dearest boy, you are more than welcome to your share.”

I shot a glare in Felix’s direction because he refused to accept any of Lord Park’s hospitality. “I’m not hungry,” he grumbled.

“Not hungry!” Lord Park exclaimed. “I shall be offended if you sit there while the rest of us enjoy ourselves.”

“Felix,” I snapped - growing more and more irritated since he refused to look at me. “Don’t behave this way.”

“I’m not hungry!” Felix insisted with a far more aggressive tone.

“My word,” Lord Park said. “Will you let him get away with this?”

“It’s been a long week,” I tried to explain. “Felix has been stressed from making arrangements with our armies.”

“It’s still unacceptable behavior from someone in his position,” Lord Park remarked, and Felix’s hand tightened around his fork.

“He’ll improve,” I said, but I knew that Felix’s infamous fits of passionate rage could last for weeks at a time. “Please, Lord Park, tell us more about your daily affairs.”

“I would be glad to lead the conversation,” Lord Park said, and he started launching himself into a retelling of his dealings with a rather mischievous servant who had returned to work that day after nearly a week of constant absences. “Who does he think he is?” Lord Park scoffed. “Of course, I immediately sent him home without pay. We can’t have such actions go unpunished. It sets a bad example for the others.”

“Perhaps he has a good reason for staying away,” I said.

“Oh, he was going on about his wife,” Lord Park said with a roll of his eyes. “But it’s not of my concern. After all, I must keep this place in good condition for my future wife. I’ve been busy renovating a private shelter just for your dragons.”

“Oh, how fascinating,” I lied, dropping my hand on top of his and ignoring the way Felix flinched from the corner of my eye.

“Tell me about the beasts,” he requested. “Are they well-trained?”

“Of course,” I said. “They are quite obedient.”

“It’s just remarkable to me,” Lord Park continued. “They’re such a rare species. How did you find three perfectly good dragon eggs?”

I hesitated at his question, and my eyes met Felix’s for the first time that evening. Because my precious dragons had been a gift from Felix - back when I was still very young and afraid of the world. My aspirations seemed far too ambitious at the time, and I lamented to Felix that I had nothing to support my claim to the throne other than an unverifiable family tree. I told him that I wanted something to make me look powerful, and he had spent days following nothing more than a whispered rumor - until he found what he was looking for in the three dragon eggs hidden away in the mountains. When he brought them to me that night, we made love for the very first time - both young and inexperienced virgins - while the eggs sat next to the fireplace all night long.

But the next morning, the egg shells were in pieces, and three very tiny dragon hatch-lings greeted me with innocent eyes and adorable features.

“It’s a long story,” I told Lord Park before clearing my throat. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

“Take your time,” Lord Park said, but he was clearly at ease while drinking his second glass of wine.

I bowed my head in gratitude before rushing out of the dining room - entering the next chamber where a small window allowed me a discreet view of Lord Park. I could feel my stomach churn while looking at the horrible man - and I desperately wanted to blame the wine but I recognized the bitter sensation of guilt as it sunk against my chest.

“Do you remember when I fucked you for the very first time?”

I turned around with a start at the unexpected sound of Felix’s voice - spotting him standing at the entrance to the room. “Felix,” I whispered, feeling my heart flutter against my sternum.

“You became my entire world, Y/N,” Felix said, approaching me with measured steps as I forced myself to meet his impenetrable gaze. “I feel like I’ve loved you for my whole life, and I know that I’m the only man who could ever make you truly happy.”

“Felix,” I repeated, but my confidence was in shambles, and there were tears falling in streaks because I was horrified by the idea of marrying Lord Park and losing Felix’s touch forever.

“Tell me again, Y/N,” Felix said, and he was so close that I could see the way his chest heaved with every deep breath. “If you can find the nerve to lie to me like the rat sitting in the next room, then please refuse my heart and end my misery.”

I sniffled because I was close to hysteria as I shook my head, reaching out to wrap my arms around Felix’s neck. “I love you,” I told him. “I don’t know what I would do without your presence by my side.”

“Then we’re the same,” Felix said, and I gasped when he unwound my arms and spun me around - shoving me up against the counter. “Do you think your war is worth that cruel bastard?” Felix asked, and his fingers kept a harsh grip in my hair as he forced my head back against his shoulder - whispers low and seductive in my ear. “Perhaps it might seem like it to you, but you’ll be miserable with him. And do you know why?”

“No,” I said in return. “I don’t know.”

I guess my response wasn’t enough. Because it was like my words had triggered something primal, and I was left at the mercy of Felix as he jerked my hips back away from the counter - only to bend me over as he quickly reached down to bundle the hem of my gown between one hand. And I shivered when nothing but cold air touched my most intimate place - shaking like a leaf when he tugged my panties down my legs.

“What did those stupid assholes at the Iron Bank tell you?” Felix snarled, spreading my legs and resuming his place in the empty space - pressing the front of his erection against my heat. “Actions speak louder than words, isn’t that right?”

“Yes!” I cried because it was hard to keep myself together in the presence of this unfiltered Felix - listening to the sounds of his zipper as he tugged down his pants. His cock was warm and rigid when he used his free hand to guide the tip along my folds, moving himself up and down but never penetrating inside.

“What would those people think if they saw their queen begging for my cock?” Felix asked. “Would Lord Park think less of you if he knew that your adviser could take you whenever he pleased?”

I moaned at the rhetorical question - knowing that Lord Park was just on the other side of the glass. It fed my growing arousal, and my mouth opened around a scream when Felix started to push his cock into my sensitive pussy. “Oh!” I cried - a broken sound that only continued to increase in volume as Felix pushed down against my lower back and started pounding his cock between my tight walls.

“I’ll treat you like a slut,” Felix said. “If that’s what you really think of our relationship.”

“Nothing I said was true!” I whimpered. “I love you, Felix.”

“Yeah?” Felix purred, and it was a complete contradiction to his earlier tone. “Will you finally admit your feelings for me, Y/N? Only after I’m forced to make an example of this little cunt.”

“Please, Felix,” I said, sobbing against my forearms as both of his hands moved down to grab my waist - using it as leverage to force his cock as deep as possible.

“Look at him while I’m fucking you,” Felix growled, holding even tighter to my waist as he fucked me like it might be the last time he would ever have the honor and privilege. “You think he could ever be this good for you?”

“Nobody can ever match you, Felix,” I told him earnestly while trying to support myself against the counter.

“This pussy belongs to me,” Felix said, snapping his hips as if trying to make a point. “It can only be satisfied by my cock.”

“You’re right,” I whined, looking up through the window where Lord Park remained seated at the table - calmly attending to his own business without any idea that the woman he was trying to seduce was getting fucked in the next room.

“You might marry that bastard,” Felix continued, anchoring my thigh around his waist to find an even better angle - hitting my g-spot with every upstroke. “But you won’t share his bed, do you understand? That privilege will remain with me!”

“Felix,” I whispered, closing my eyes when I felt my orgasm approaching - the familiar heat burning inside of me. Hotter than any dragon fire.

“My queen,” Felix said. “Say my name, Y/N. Let him hear how good my cock makes you feel.”

“Shit, Felix,” I moaned, even though I had no idea what I was actually begging him to do for me. But I knew that Felix would always do his best to give me whatever I wanted.

“Come for me,” Felix grunted, pounding his hips into mine as he knocked my waist against the edge of the table. “I can tell that you’re close.”

But it was still the first time that I had ever come on command, and I screamed his name when I fell apart around his pulsating erection, feeling him continue to move inside of me until he was satisfied as well - cum dripping down my thighs.

“Remember this moment,” Felix said. “Because I know you aren’t attracted to him, and I know that you aren’t serious about an engagement.”

“I’m not,” I said, leaning back into his weight as he brought us to the floor, allowing my dress to fall into place as he held me tightly in his arms. “Nobody could ever replace you, Felix.”

“Because you’re mine,” Felix purred, and he was more pliant after being sated, sharing his deepest feelings as we resigned ourselves to the undeniable love that had followed us ever since our very first meeting on a warm, spring afternoon.

It was such a beautiful recollection, and I found myself crying in Felix’s arms as he shushed me quietly. “I don’t want to marry him,” I said. “But what else can I do?”

“I know, my love,” Felix said, and he was so gentle as he carded his fingers through my hair - knotted from his rough touches earlier. “It pains me to see you like this, but I might have a way to prevent your suffering.”

“It’s never easy,” I said, and Felix smiled when he wiped away my tears. “I can’t turn down his ships.”

“Then marry him, Y/N,” he said, ignoring the way that I shivered. “I’ll handle the rest.”

I swallowed hard at his ominous promise. “What will you do to him?”

“It won’t involve your hand,” Felix said. “Leave it to me, my sweet queen. I’ll make sure that your heart never hurts this way again.”

I lifted my head to meet his familiar gaze, and I saw the determination right in front of me. It was reassuring, and I carefully nodded because I would always trust Felix with my life.

One Month Later

I would always recall the winter’s morning when I set sail across the narrow sea to meet my destiny in King’s Landing.

Our enormous fleet of ships proved to be an imposing force as we started sailing across the waters - leaving behind Essos with my armies attending to their duties. The departure of our forces marked an entire month since I had married Lord Park in a private ceremony in view of the officials and his close friends and family. He had whispered to me during our first dance together - talking about how he was going to put a child inside me.

Yet, that very same night, he could only penetrate the tip of his disgusting cock before a familiar hand was slicing across his throat - using a knife made of Valyrian steel to end Lord Park’s life. I remembered that there had been so much blood - draining from the terrible man in rivulets of crimson until he collapsed next to me face-down into the mattress. He continued to convulse as he struggled while Felix knelt in his place - wiping the blood from his skin and looking down at me with a desperate hunger.

The news of Lord Park’s death traveled quickly, and I played the part of a distraught housewife who described the masked assassin who had snuck into our room and killed my poor husband. There was nobody to doubt me, especially when I called my dragons to the official hearing, and their intimidating presence was enough to cement my lie. And since all of Lord Park’s estate belonged to me, I could still claim his ships and wealth - using everything to catalyze my impending journey across the narrow sea.

I was the ruthless queen who had survived death itself, and my reputation was even more formidable than it was before. There was nothing left to stop me, and I breathed in the scent of the ocean as I leaned against the banister of the impressive warship. From next to me, Felix stood tall with his long, silver hair billowing in the breeze.

“We’ll be there before sunrise,” I said, closing my eyes as I envisioned my arrival.

“Its yours for the taking, my queen,” Felix replied, and I trembled when his fingers followed the path of my spine.

“Yes,” I agreed. “It’s all mine!”

Felix smirked at my audacious declaration, and I held my head high as the land grew closer in the distance. Meanwhile, my dragons soared high above my ships and the army that would fight for their new queen and secure my rightful place on the Iron Throne.

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tinybibmpreg · 3 years

Text

a oneshot as a birthday gift for myself lol. was going to be more adult themed but then i got sidetracked by angst & lore and then a happy fluffy family resolution. so. lmao.

my temperamental prince character Gaelwin and his elf knight (future) husband, Tasnear, working out some misunderstandings and family secrets about their daughter. past/post mpreg

Blykren: Getting to Know You

Gaelwin smirked down at him, mismatched eyes blazing with some emotion Tasnear wasn’t sure he wanted to know the identity of. Gaelwin shoved him onto his bed and climbed on top of him, like a predator holding down its prey- ready to kill. Tasnear resisted the urge to throw off Gaelwin, to fight against him and escape. It wouldn’t do to hurt a prince of East Atalan. He was already in such low standing with the King, Gaelwin’s grandfather. He quite liked being allowed back in the palace, being with he and Gaelwin’s daughter. It wouldn’t do to get himself exiled again.

He’d just have to hope that Gaelwin was just being mischievous, trying to scare him, one last thrill before he went off to sleep. The prince’s siblings were quite vocal at times that that was what their brother did- terrify people. For fun or out of cruelty. He’d scare them into obedience, go into wild rages and smash everything around him, destroy their things, hurt himself in the process. But he’d never lay a hand on them unless he was grabbing them and carrying them off to what he believed was safety.

Tasnear wasn’t sure if that applied to him, seeing as he wasn’t one of Gaelwin’s siblings. He wasn’t even sure Gaelwin actually believed he really was Orwina’s mother.

Which certainly wasn’t good. Gaelwin could be downright violent towards people who he didn’t see as family, especially with his new powers. He could rip people to shreds with a wave of his hand if he wished, and he’d done so before. Having spires of ice erupt from the ground to skewer an assassin through, using wind to send projectiles of dirt and rocks to go through a man who had swore at him. Everard had told him how Gaelwin, before getting his powers, would throw and stomp on people who offended him. He always had a reason for reacting so badly, Averil insisted, even if the reason didn’t seem strong enough, or obvious enough. It wasn’t violence for violence’s sake, even if it really seemed to be.

He wasn’t sure what he had done to offend Gaelwin. Perhaps Gaelwin was finally convinced he was lying about being the one to give birth to their daughter. Perhaps he’d gotten sick of him befriending his siblings. Tasnear couldn’t think of anything he could have said to upset Gaelwin. He was always kind to his siblings, and never said a bad word about him to the children nor to anyone else. Orwina loved her father, and though Tasnear feared the man and the danger he posed to everyone around him, he would never try to change his daughter’s mind.

So Tasnear didn’t dare speak now. He just stared up at Gaelwin, bracing himself for whatever the prince might do to him. But the man did nothing- he just kept him pinned, that devilish smirk on his face.

Minutes passed and Tasnear found himself growing bored. With a different person, he might have thought that they were waiting for him to let his guard down, but Gaelwin didn’t seem the type to try that tactic. He just seemed to be thinking, rather, barely breathing or blinking, eyes losing their intensity and glossing over as time dragged on and on. Tasnear debated internally on whether or not to snap Gaelwin out of his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. Before he could make up his mind on whether or not to say anything, Gaelwin blinked rapidly and shook his head. With a huff, he pushed himself up, now only kneeling with his legs on either side of Tasnear.

“Huh. Got lost in my head for a while there.” Gaelwin rubbed his eyes, blinked a few more times, and looked down at Tasnear. Confusion flickered across his features, only to be replaced by a grin. “Hello, Sir Tasnear.”

He didn’t bother correcting Gaelwin that he wasn’t a knight anymore. “Is there something you need of me, Prince Gaelwin?”

“No, not really, Tas.”

Tasnear chewed his lip for a moment, not expecting the diminutive from Gaelwin, then asked, “Ah… Has Orwina has begun calling me that to you?”

Gaelwin placed a hand on Tasnear’s chest, fiddling with a clasp on his tunic. He nodded, then undid the clasp. He continued down the elf’s tunic, undoing all the clasps until he could expose his undershirt. Tasnear didn’t know what to think of being undressed. Was Gaelwin merely curious about his clothing? Had he just wanted to do something with his hands, like a nervous habit of picking at buttons? Gaelwin’s siblings had assured him Gaelwin had no interest in anything but keeping them safe or indulging basic curiosity and harmless impulses. Tasnear didn’t fear being taken advantage of by the prince.

“Tell me, Tas,” Gaelwin started in his questioning tone that demanded an answer no matter when or where or to whom he asked. Pale, bruised fingers drew down Tasnear’s front to stop on his belly. “Are elves as humans? Is a mother’s body marked forever by its pregnancy?”

Not at all what Tasnear expected to be asked, though if he was honest with himself, he’d had no clue what the prince was going to ask. At least it was something he could answer easily. “Yes, typically. If an Elvin mother shows during their pregnancy, they will have marks, just as a human would.”

“Tas.” The way Gaelwin said his nickname was… odd. Tasnear felt embarrassed, and he wasn’t sure why. He was fine with the nickname, had grown up being called that by family and friends and people who were familiar with him. But the way the prince said his nickname, as if in knowing it he’d indulged some great curiosity, made his ears twitch. Gaelwin’s eyes flicked to the movement and he moved a hand to Tasnear’s left ear, pinching the point of it between two of his fingers.

He swallowed at the prickles of sensitivity. His other ear twitched involuntarily, though Tasnear tried to suppress it.

Gaelwin tilted his head, his messy blond hair falling into his eyes. He finished unbuttoning Tasnear’s tunic and pulled it open, then shoved up his undershirt. Tasnear bit his lower lip, his face growing hot.

A cold hand spread out over his belly. Tasnear glanced down and saw as Gaelwin traced his thumb over the stretch marks on his abdomen. Though they’d somewhat faded over the past few years, they were plainly visible. Grinning, the prince suddenly was over him again, a wicked look in his eyes.

“Prince Gaelwin? Mmph!” Tasnear jolted as Gaelwin surged down and kissed him, their teeth slamming together painfully. His hands went up to push Gaelwin off reflexively, but he managed to stop himself and instead held onto the front of Gaelwin’s tunic, closing his eyes.

The kiss was more of a bite than a kiss, far too forceful. Tasnear wasn’t sure what to think of it at first. Surely, Gaelwin wasn’t attracted to him. His siblings made it obvious that Gaelwin would never view anyone as desirable, and Tasnear had figured that for himself through watching how Gaelwin treated people. Gaelwin only viewed people as threats or as things beneath him. He didn’t make friends, much less take lovers.

Still, the kiss was thrilling in a way. During moments in his pregnancy, he’d imagined what it would be like for the father of his child to be there with him. He’d wake up to fleeting dreams of a charming prince holding him and touching his belly, claiming him. Tasnear hadn’t tried to entertain ideas of what it’d be like if the 15th princess’ son had taken him as a lover instead of just requesting a child of his own when his mother asked him what would make him happy, but he’d been emotional and overwhelmed and couldn’t help himself.

It wasn’t the gentle embrace he’d dreamed of, but it certainly felt like he was being claimed. Being pressed into his bed, Gaelwin biting him as if he were trying to devour him…

Definitely not what he’d imagined while he was pregnant, but still something he, surprisingly, would have and did enjoy.

Tasnear’s hands moved from clinging to Gaelwin’s tunic to wrapping around him, one hand going to holding the back of his head. Gaelwin dipped his head down to bite his neck and Tasnear’s fingers tightened in his hair, which only made him bite harder until it drew a whimper from Tasnear as he felt the prince’s teeth slice through his skin and draw blood. Gaelwin hummed and lapped at the blood. When he pulled up, leaving Tasnear catching his breath beneath him, his teeth were stained red. He ran his tongue over them.

“G-Gaelwin…”

“Hm. I believe you.”

Tasnear furrowed his brow in confusion. “What?”

“I said I believe you, Tas,” Gaelwin repeated, shrugging. “I didn’t before. But now I do.”

“Ah… about…?”

“About what you said. About Orwina.” Gaelwin rolled his eyes as if Tasnear was being ridiculous. “My mother never told me where she came from, just that by using magic, she was mine. So I guess your whole story about a knight telling your family your exile would be lifted if one of you did a favor for the son of a fifteenth princess wasn’t made up, and you really did carry and give birth to my daughter for me.”

“Oh. I’m- I’m glad.”

“Sorry my mother lied to you. She did that sometimes to make things easier for me.”

“It’s… alright. I’m very fond of Orwina. I’m glad I’m her mother.”

Gaelwin climbed off of him and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked over his shoulder at Tasnear, an impatient look on his face. Tasnear scrambled up and perched next to him, pulling down his shirt and starting to button up his tunic.

Before he could get too far, Gaelwin made an unhappy sound and reached to yank his shirt back up. “Hey, I still want to look at you. Do the marks go on your sides? Is there anything else?”

He felt his ears go hot and start twitching again, which he didn’t bother trying to suppress. He was too flustered. Gaelwin raised a hand to one and pinched it again.

“Why are your ears moving so much?”

“They do that when I’m…”

“When what, Tas? When you’re aroused or embarrassed?” Gaelwin asked, twisting Tasnear’s ear curiously. Tasnear’s whole face felt hot hearing Gaelwin ask if he was aroused. Not something he’d ever expected from the prince. Seeing his face go red, Gaelwin tugged on his ear and huffed, asking, “Are you going to answer anything?”

“S-sorry. I’m just… just flustered. I’m not used to- to any of this.”

“Neither am I. So your ears twitch when you’re flustered?”

Tasnear nodded slightly. “Yes. Elves’ ears can also twitch when they’re angry or upset or- or aroused. Any strong or sudden emotion, really. Joy or surprise, as well… As adults, we try to suppress the twitching. If we hear something in the distance, sometimes, as well.”

“And my other questions?”

“It would be easier to… to show you, I suppose.” At that, Gaelwin raised an eyebrow and sat back, waiting. Tasnear couldn’t believe he’d offered that, but pulled off his tunic and shirt, setting them aside. He looked down, refusing to meet Gaelwin’s eyes.

Gaelwin put both hands on his abdomen, leaning in close. “Wow. You’ve got a lot of stretch marks.”

“They were quite red, during the pregnancy… I used salves to try and help, but it didn’t do much…”

“Did they hurt?” Gaelwin picked at a larger one with his nail.

“They itched. The salves helped with that, at least.”

He brought his hands up to Tasnear’s chest and traced the lines on the underside of his breasts. “Oh. You’ve got some here as well.”

“Mm, yes. My chest developed a bit during the pregnancy as well…” His chest was still somewhat soft. “I used to be quite flat-chested.”

Gaelwin tilted his head. “Hm. A bit redundant, since you didn’t get to keep Orwina very long after she was born.”

“Excuse me?” Did Gaelwin think he’d gotten to be a mother to Orwina when she was a baby? That couldn’t have been right.

But Gaelwin ignored him. “I know my mother lied to you about the reward you’d get, but it’s still quite surprising to me that anyone would agree to have a baby knowing that it would eventually go to a different realm entirely. For all you knew, you’d never get to see her again.”

“But I never got to see her.”

Gaelwin sat up, confused. He stared at Tasnear, searching his face. Finally, he asked, “What do you mean? Didn’t you give her to someone acting on behalf of my mother after she was born?”

“You… you couldn’t tell how old she was when you first got her?”

“I wasn’t allowed to see her for three months after my mother received her.”

That was mind-boggling to Tasnear. Aghast, he asked, “Your mother didn’t let you see your own daughter until she was three months old?”

Gaelwin shrugged. “She never let me near my siblings when they were babies. She didn’t trust me.” Tasnear couldn’t help but give Gaelwin a horrified expression. Gaelwin waved it off and explained, “I don’t blame her. My mother loved me, she really did, but I was dangerous. Once my siblings were weaned my mother would help me hold them, and once Orwina could walk I was allowed to hold and play with her with my mother or father watching.”

“You didn’t get to hold your own daughter until she was old enough to walk? Prince Gaelwin…”

“Is that… bad? I didn’t really like that Everard and Averil and Eberlein got to spend more time with her before I was allowed to, but once she was old enough I would always hold her and carry her around. She really loved riding on my shoulders when she was a toddler. I should ask her tomorrow if she still likes that, in case she’s just been too busy to remember to ask.”

Something about the story didn’t seem right. “Why couldn’t you spend time with Orwina for so long?”

“Oh, because there was… an accident, with Averil. I was left alone with my siblings for a while, and my guardian took Eberlein away to change him or feed him. Everard and Averil were only about three… We were playing a chasing and hiding game in the library, and then I fell into a bookcase. Everard will swear now that I did on purpose, but I didn’t, and it landed on Averil’s leg.”

Gaelwin’s sister was missing half of one of her legs and walked with a crutch and prosthetic. Tasnear had a bad feeling about where the story was going.

Continuing, Gaelwin told him, “My father’s library was very old, and that bookcase was very tall, top-heavy, and crumbling at the bottom, and I fell very hard against it. I couldn’t get it off of Averil and she wouldn’t stop screaming and there was all sorts of blood, and my guardian wasn’t much help when we tried to lift it off of her. So I grabbed one of my father’s swords and cut off her leg to free her. It was mostly severed anyway. The doctors said it would have been removed eventually. But… my mother believed Everard.”

“So you weren’t allowed to spend time with Orwina until she was older.”

“As I said, my mother didn’t trust me.”

Then why did she trick me into bearing you a child to make you happy if she thought you were so dangerous? She could have lied and said it was impossible and you would have shrugged it off and thought of something else to wish for. It makes no sense, Tasnear thought but didn’t dare voice. Gaelwin seemed to be agitated by the story, even if he spoke of his mother’s distrust casually. Gaelwin and his siblings’ conflicting stories about their parents bothered Tasnear.

At least now he understood why Gaelwin was so misinformed about the real age Orwina had gone to live in the other realm with her father and grandmother.

He almost didn’t want to bring it up anymore.

But the prince brought it up anyways, “So what did you mean by you never getting to see her before we got off track?”

He swallowed, nervous about telling the story. It had been so upsetting when it happened, the depth of deception and the omission of details when he had agreed to carry a prince’s child to restore his family name. Gaelwin grabbed his hand, squeezing it to coax him into speaking. After taking a deep breath, he started, “After my family was disgraced and exiled, we didn’t think there would ever be a chance for one of us to restore our family name and reverse the king’s decision, not even after my father’s death. But one day a knight from the royal guard showed up at my family’s door and announced that the fifteenth princess, the daughter of the King who my father had betrayed, was willing to take away our disgrace if we did a favor for her and her eldest son. I accepted, even though my family begged me not to, afraid that the favor would be too great or impossible since my father’s betrayal had been unforgivable to King Ataria Erwyn.”

“You didn’t know what the favor was?”

“No. The knight took me to see a few of the royal mages, who told me that the fifteenth princess, your mother, wanted to choose someone to be the mother of her son’s child. I could have backed out, but I thought it was a blessing. All I had to do was bear a prince’s child, and my family name would be restored, I could return to my position in the palace as an honor guard. I even asked if I could do that, once the child was old enough for me to return to full-time service in the guard. They simply said I would be rewarded as your mother had promised.”

Gaelwin seemed to get where the story was going, nodding. “So you thought that you would become a consort for a prince, essentially. That by being a mother, you would be bearing and raising a royal child.”

“That’s exactly what I thought. The spell took a few days to perform, and then it took a week before the mages could test and see that I was with child. After they confirmed it, I thought they would take me to see the prince in the palace, so I asked if I could be with my family for a while instead, and they told me they’d intended to bring me back to my family anyway, that I’d stay with them until I gave birth.” He took another deep breath. “The pregnancy went by fine. Any difficulties I had, the mages provided remedies for. They checked on me frequently. My family and I prepared for the birth, prepared for the baby… we thought that the baby and I would remain at the family home for a few months until the baby was strong enough and I had recovered enough to make the journey to the palace.”

Gaelwin scoffed. “I can’t believe they let you think that. It just seems cruel.”

“...It was,” Tasnear said softly.

The prince moved closer to him until they were sitting pressed together. Gaelwin wrapped an arm around him and leaned his head against his shoulder.

Taking that as an invitation to continue, Tasnear did. “Things seemed alright when I went into labor. The mages were alerted and they stayed largely out of the way as my family helped me. Elvin children are born earlier and at a smaller size than human infants, and Orwina took after you. It took a while… but when I was pushing, the mages…” He stopped, biting his lip.

As he waited for Tasnear to finish telling him what had happened, Gaelwin took his hand again and played with his fingers.

“Um, they forced my family to leave and barred the entrances to the room with magic. As I finally gave birth to Orwina, they readied a spell. When she was born, one of them caught her and told the others that she was a girl and they cut the cord and covered her up and- and another two held me down and they used a spell to vanish with her. I never got to see her, I barely heard her cry… I first saw her when she and your siblings arrived in the forest of this realm, but I wasn’t really sure if it was just wishful thinking for a while until Everard started telling me about your letters from your mother…”

“I don’t know what I’d do if someone took away Orwina or one of my siblings from me.”

Seeing as how Gaelwin had tried to destroy the kingdom when he’d gotten separated from them upon first arriving in their realm, Tasnear had a pretty good idea of what the prince would do. “My family tried to help me forget about it. We weren’t even sure if she was alive, or who her father really was.”

“Not a prince, that’s for sure. At least not until we showed up here.” Gaelwin sighed heavily and flopped backward, Tasnear’s hand still in his. “Goodness. Those were upsetting stories.”

Tasnear wiped his eyes, finding that he’d teared up a bit while telling the story. He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t have to be so upset anymore. Orwina was alive and well, very happy in her new life in the palace with her family. Tasnear got to see her every day, as the children’s unofficial guard. He couldn’t be a parent to her, but it was enough, knowing she was safe, seeing that she was happy and well cared for.

Even though Gaelwin was dangerous, Tasnear didn’t believe he’d ever hurt their daughter.

He laid down next to Gaelwin. The prince lifted his hand to inspect it as he fiddled around with his fingers.

“Are your nails naturally this color? Orwina doesn’t have black nails.”

“Yes. Elves have dark nails. Black nails are a trademark of my family… Usually, anyway. I guess hybrids don’t inherit that.”

“They’re nice. I like them better than mine.” Gaelwin’s nails were short and chewed on, bruised and scabbed underneath. “I wonder if we had another baby if she would have black nails.”

Prince Gaelwin was full of surprises. Any lingering upset over bad memories was quickly overtaken by shock. Tasnear turned to stare at him, eyes wide.

Seeing his expression, Gaelwin looked confused once more. “What?”

“What?” Tasnear repeated. “Is that- is that something you’ve thought about, Prince? Having another child?”

“No! I didn’t even believe that you were Orwina’s mother until I saw your body.”

“But- but you said she.”

“I just figured if we had another it’d probably be a girl since Orwina is. And I don’t know, I think another daughter would be nice. I mean, I’d be just as happy if it was a boy, but I’d prefer a girl. Not that I’d be upset at all if it was a boy.”

“Are you… trying to convince me?”

“I don’t know. Do you think you could be convinced?”

Tasnear wondered how it could have gone from him thinking that the prince was going to attack him to now, with Gaelwin possibly asking for a baby. It was due to this whirlwind that he found himself saying, “I- I suppose I could be.” Upon realizing what he’d just said, he quickly added, “But- but we barely know each other, Prince Gaelwin! Now I’d prefer to know the father of my child better. I’d rather… have a relationship with that person.”

“Well, we can’t get married,” Gaelwin said plainly.

“I didn’t-!” Tasnear felt flustered all over again. “That’s not what I meant, Prince Gaelwin. Um, why not, though…?”

Gaelwin gave him an exasperated look. “Tas, I’m married.”

“What?” The prince’s siblings had never mentioned that.

“You know that. To Queen Fractura?”

“Oh. Is that marriage actually binding, still…?” Tasnear felt relieved, for some reason. Gaelwin had been tricked into marrying a queen in order to receive his powers, and she’d tried to use him to destroy the kingdom of East Atalan, where his grandfather ruled. Thanks to his siblings and Tasnear, that hadn’t happened. He’d figured that with the evil queen in a dungeon somewhere that Gaelwin’s marriage to her would have been nullified or that the King would have insisted on a divorce.

Gaelwin nodded solemnly. “Yes. We’re still husband and wife.”

“You’re not seeking a divorce, Prince Gaelwin?”

“No. I don’t have any reason to.”

Tasnear could think of a handful of reasons off the top of his head, namely that the queen had tried to kill Gaelwin once he’d seen past her deception, and that she’d tried to use him to destroy a whole kingdom.

He kept quiet about that, though. Instead, he clarified, “I just meant getting to know each other better, Prince. Becoming friends, spending time together… building a measure of trust.”

“I trust you not to hurt my siblings if I’m not around.”

“And- and I trust you, not to purposefully harm me nor our daughter,” he told Gaelwin, finding that he was telling the truth.

The prince was quiet for a moment, and then asked him, “Do you want to go check on Orwina? All this… I wouldn’t mind making sure she’s tucked in.”

“I’d like that.”

Both of them got up and Tasnear pulled his shirts back on. He followed Gaelwin through the palace to the royal family’s living quarters. Gaelwin let him into a decent-sized room with a large bed- his own room. Then, the prince brought him through another door into another living space connected to his bedroom, where two smaller bedrooms branched off. In one room Tasnear saw Gaelwin’s brother and sister Everard and Averil on their beds, who eyed the both of them warily. In the shared space, Gaelwin’s youngest sibling, his brother Eberlein, was laying on his stomach on the floor, writing on a few pieces of paper, with an open book beside him. And in the other small bedroom, there was an empty bed that belonged to Eberlein, and another where Orwina was sitting and looking at a book, her blanket and pillows all shoved aside.

“Hello, Gael,” Eberlein greeted, not looking up from his writing. “Hi, Tasnear.”

Tasnear returned the greeting quietly. “Hello, Prince Eber.”

“Studying, dear Eberlein?”

“Mhmm. My tutor wants me to learn more about war history, so I’m writing down all the interesting battles I want to hear more about or anything that I want explained.”

“Good boy. Don’t stay up too late. That goes for you two as well, Everard, Averil.”

Everard scoffed, but his twin shyly replied, “Yes, brother. We were just talking.”

“Anything interesting?”

“We were waiting for you to get back and wondered what was keeping you, that’s all,” the girl admitted. “Eber went looking for you, but a guard told him you were in Tasnear’s room, so he came back.”

“We were worried about Tasnear,” Everard added, narrowing his eyes. “I guess we didn’t have to be. He looks fine.”

Suddenly aware that he was likely covered in bite marks and bruises around his lips and neck, his hair and clothes probably ruffled. Tasnear felt humiliated.

Gaelwin, who had no such marks and permanently ruffled hair, wasn’t ashamed. “Of course you didn’t have to be. You knew all along he was telling the truth. I was just making sure of it, and he was!”

“Oh!” Averil clapped her hands together. “I- I’m so glad, Tas! Now Gael doesn’t have to worry about you being our friend. Eve and I were worried he wouldn’t ever believe you.”

“Y… yes, there’s no need for anyone to worry, now.”

“Are y-you going to bed now, Gael?” Averil asked. “We’ll help shut off the lights.”

“Just a moment. Poppet, are you still awake as well?” Gaelwin stepped into Orwina’s bedroom, Tasnear close behind. “Oh! You’re reading?”

“Gael!” Orwina sat up in excitement. “And Tas!” She slid off of the bed and ran up to Gaelwin, hugging his legs.

“Hey, ‘pet.”

“Eber said you two were spending time with each other! Does that mean you’re friends now? I hope so!” Tasnear couldn’t help but smile at how earnest the little girl was. She looked thrilled at the idea of them being friends.

Gaelwin lifted her up. “I don’t hate him anymore.”

Orwina beamed. She turned to Tasnear and told him, “You’re friends with Gael! If he doesn’t hate you then he really likes you!”

Even a seven-year-old could tell Gaelwin was very difficult. “Oh? I’m glad…”

“I’m happy! Gael, are you happy?”

Gaelwin pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m happy to see you.”

She giggled and hugged his neck. “I’m happy to see you too!”

All of the bad feelings from before melted away seeing his daughter so happy with her father. Tasnear was so grateful that Orwina was such a happy child, always overjoyed to see her family and friends. Even if he could only be a friend to her, he was thankful.

“Tas and I wanted to come to say goodnight to you.”

Orwina’s eyes widened. “You called him Tas!” She looked back at Tasnear. “That means Gael really likes you a lot!”

“Do you want a hug from Tas, Poppet?”

The surprise on her face would have been comical if Tasnear wasn’t sure that his own expression mirrored hers. Glancing out of the bedroom door, he could see equally shocked faces on Gaelwin’s three siblings.

Prince Gaelwin didn’t let anyone else but his siblings touch his daughter.

Orwina reached out for him, the dull points of her ears twitching with excitement. He took her in his arms and she squeezed him tightly, making a happy noise against where she buried her face against him. Tasnear hugged her tight as well, relishing getting to hold his daughter for the very first time. He closed his eyes, feeling tears welling up, and tried to burn the memory into his mind so he wouldn’t ever forget it, so it would make up for the past seven years, for the grief he’d gone through when she’d been taken away as a baby.

“Poppet, do you want to sleep in my bed with Tas and me tonight? We both had a bad day…”

She popped up, ending the hug sooner than he wanted. “Yeah!” she answered, and Tasnear was glad that Gaelwin wasn’t immediately taking her back, instead just reaching to pet her hair as the elf held her. “Oh! If you had a bad day, can I read to you both before bed? Gael, my book-”

“I got it, ‘pet.” Gaelwin grabbed the book. “Let’s get to bed. Goodnight, everyone.”

A trio of goodnights, two confused, one normal, followed them. Tasnear felt a bit too embarrassed to look back at the twins, sure that they were feeling rather odd at knowing someone would be sharing their brother’s bed. But that embarrassment was just in the background. Being able to carry his daughter in his arms, feel how she settled against him, a weight that belonged there- that joy shone above everything else.

He couldn’t wait to write to his family and tell them that at last, he’d found his daughter. Something he’d been keeping from them in fear that he’d never get to be close to Orwina and would eventually be sent back home, returning to exile.

After setting Orwina down in Gaelwin’s bed, he took off his boots and tunic and set them on a chair. Orwina directed him to take the left side of the bed, as Gaelwin always slept on the right where there was an abundance of pillows. The prince went into his bathroom and came out in sleeping clothes, then climbed into his nest of pillows and handed Orwina her book. She flipped to the front of it and started to read.

A few pages in, Tasnear realized that Gaelwin was staring at him. He bit his lower lip, glancing at Orwina’s book to try not to think about it.

Midway through, Orwina was yawning and Gaelwin was still staring. After a few more pages, the book flopped over with a soft thud as their daughter fell asleep. Tasnear carefully picked up the book and set it on the nightstand. He tucked Orwina in, and Gaelwin turned out the lights with a wave of his hand, a breeze going around and blowing out all the lanterns. The two of them settled down, Gaelwin’s cold stare returning.

Somehow, Tasnear managed to fall asleep despite it. And when he woke up in the morning, Orwina had sprawled out with half her body on his chest and arm, and Gaelwin was awake, bags under his eyes, watching.

“Ha. I told you Gael would stay up all night.” Everard’s voice startled the both of them, the boy standing at the end of the bed with a tray of food in his hand. Tasnear kept himself from jumping, not wanting to wake up Orwina. Gaelwin hissed and glared at his brother.

Averil gave them both an apologetic look. “Oh, Gael. We told you Tasnear is safe. Why’d you let him stay here all night if you were worried?”

“It’s called trust-building. He slept all night and didn’t do anything to Orwina, so he passed a test. Ugh… Now I’m going to bed.” Gaelwin turned over and buried his face in his mound of pillows. He grumbled until his breathing slowed and he fell asleep quickly.

Everard rolled his eyes. “We brought breakfast. Avie’s got a kettle and we’re going to make some tea in our common room.”

“You’re welcome to join us once you’re free.”

“Free?” Tasnear echoed.

“Orwina has you trapped. You’re stuck under her for a while.”

“We can just wake her up.”

Averil laughed a little. “Okay. If you think you can bring yourself to. Only her tutor is stronghearted enough to wake her, and Eve asked her not to come since you’re here.”

“Yes. In bed with our brother, bruised up. That kind of gossip will spread, and Gaelwin doesn’t like rumors.”

“S-sorry. I’ll cover up before I go.”

As nice as it was to have his daughter sound asleep on top of him, sometimes embarrassment could win out. The twins snickered as his face reddened and walked to their living room, leaving him trapped under Orwina and keenly aware of how the bruises on his face and neck were aching.

In his letter to his family, he would definitely have to leave some things out.

#mpreg #past mpreg #just a warning this story has a brief mention where tasnear is worried gaelwin will attack or assault him but very quickly he realizes #that he wont lol. and also mentions a past child injury (princess avie is fine now) and a baby being taken away (orwina is now back with Tas #original story #oblio's fics #Gaelwin 'Gael' Blykren #Tasnear 'Tas' Lyreale #Everard 'Eve' Blykren #averil 'avie' blykren #Eberlein 'Eber' Blykren #Orwina Blykren #Blykren - story tag

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ye-bloodeh-liar · 3 years

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I just finished AC Valhalla – A résumé.

I finished the "main story" of Assassin's Creed Valhalla. These are some thoughts of mine. (This was saved in my drafts for two weeks or so. But my stance hasn't altered. Actually, I'm even angrier now.)

Disclaimer: This obviously contains some spoilers here and there. You've been warned, but tbh, who even cares about the story at this point. Also, I know I don't have many followers, and I suspect none of the few that will come across this post will actually be interested in it. That said, if you like reading people's rants about things, regardless of your interest in video games, this might be something for you. I just needed to get this out of my system somewhere. This is a rant (well, vent? I'm venting, I guess) written as it came to my mind. There's no real structure, I think. Sorry for that in advance.

After Origins, which I thoroughly enjoyed and actually played again between Odyssey and Valhalla, and Odyssey, which's name was perfectly fitting since it felt like a fucking odyssey to grind through, I hoped, actually, I was convinced, Valhalla would right Odyssey's wrongs. You see, Odyssey had one big problem for me: It did none of the things that made and still make me love Origins. In short: The world was massive, but felt copied and pasted, uninteresting to explore and lifeless. Basically, it was a lot of green sprinkled with some olive branches. A lot of the times the only way to know roughly where I am was pulling up the map because based on my surroundings, I could've been anywhere. Compared to the intriguing world of Origins, where you always knew in which area of the map you currently were, this was a shitshow. I mean, just walking through the desert in Origins had more atmosphere than the whole city of Athens (the main fucking city) could ever muster up. (Oh, remember the times of AC Brotherhood, where Rome actually felt like a city even though it wasn't actually humongous like the new games are? Or how atmospheric the whole of AC II was? I mean, Venice? Hello? M a s t e r p i e c e) But I can overlook that. The combat didn't feel heavy, or to put it better, "impactful" like it did in Origins, but more like poking the enemies to their deaths with something that made sword-y sounds. But I can overlook that. The loot system improved a bit, in the sense of giving the option to modify your loot and being able to combine different armor pieces, however, Origins outfit-system was more up my alley. But I can overlook that. Funnily enough, compared to its predecessor, Odyssey looked worse. In Origins the fabric of your outfit look like actual fabric and, I can't stress this enough, waved in the wind. In Odyssey everything felt more static and somehow "fake". But I can overlook that. To me, Origins' story was masterfully done. Personally, I'd say, that this is the closest we've ever gotten to the Ezio-Trilogy. The voice acting was top notch. Bayek was a great character, and the side characters like Aya/Amunet were equally intriguing. I still remember the first time I saw the first confession cutscene after killing Medunamun. It gave me shivers and goosebumps and got me excited for what was about to come. What I want to say with this, is that Origins made me care; care about its characters, care about their backstory and motives, care about the world, etc. After I had finished the DLC The Hidden Ones I felt like I had actually witnessed the igniting spark of something epic, namely the Assassin Brotherhood, in such a chilling way, even though they basically were just chillin' in a cave. Because that's what character building gives you: payoffs. Well, Odyssey did none of that. All it did made me care about was to get all the loot, because that's what my mind always goes for in any game (I'm that kind of stupid ape). I didn't care about what would happen in the end – I just wanted to get there. I wanted to know how the story would end, but in whichever way it would, I knew I wouldn't care for it in the sense of being disappointed or yearning for a different outcome for the character I was so invested in, because, as I said, nothing got me invested in the character(s) in the first place. That's what bugged me the most about Odyssey. Not the flimsy feeling combat, not the husk of a world I found myself in, not the downgrade in design and animation, etc., but the lack of care it invoked.

Now, when Valhalla was originally announced, I was excited as I could be for a video game. Ubisoft was clearly aware of their mistakes with Odyssey and tried to show that they're willing to listen to their fanbase. A world where every area has its own identity? Sounds great. Heavy combat? Hell yeah. Gear and loot that actually matters and is special (unlike in Odyssey where after a few hours of playing you find yourself carrying the same fucking bow 25 times)? Oh my. Choices not for the sake of choices, but story? Yes please. I mean, if you have to implement choices. Even though choices don't really make sense in Assassin's Creed, but that's another topic.

Well, did it deliver (for me)? No. And to be completely honest, I prefer Odyssey, even as the grindfest that it is, over Valhalla, and me replaying Odyssey seems a lot more likely to me, than going through all of Valhalla again. I'm not going to list all of the points mentioned above again in full detail: The world is a bit more intriguing than Greece, but a shadow of what Egypt was. The combat feels heavy, yet every weapon looks too big (????) and it still feels a bit off. My biggest grudge of the minor points is actually the look/the graphics: How on earth does Valhalla manage to look less real than Origins? The fur and pelts on the armor, every piece of cloth, i mean just e v e r y t h i n g looks somewhat plasticy (at loss for a better word here; just compare Origins' outfits in motion to Valhalla's) Anyway, let's get to the real problem here, because all boils down to the point I've mentioned before: Invoking care.

This became very apparent to me after forging the fourth (?; was it the fourth? They all blur together. That's how e n t i c i n g they are. Great.) alliance or so. I didn't give a single fuck about the characters in those arcs. It was very clear that they'd be soon replaced by other characters in the next alliance's arc, which I probably wouldn't care for either, especially, since they all felt somewhat the same: empty. Alliances felt like checklists to do. Even Wincestre, which had an interesting beginning, somehow managed to loose all of its "darkness" after the first two quests. But I could overlook the dreary sidequest-like alliance arcs, if they served the main storyline in some way or form. Now you might ask, what main storyline? E x a c t l y. Looking back, there is none. At least not really. And there where a lot of times playing the game where I found myself wondering, if this alliance-arc-thing I was currently dragging myself through was in fact meant to be the actual story. But it shouldn't be. Was it? I have no fucking clue. My conclusion on what Valhalla's main overarching story is, is what follows:

Eivor's parents got killed when he was a child (never seen before lol), got adopted, and is now part of the Raven clan with his "brother" Sigurd//Sigurd comes home from some raid with the Assassins Basim and Hytham//(Eivor gets the Hidden Blade; I mean, this is an Assassin's Creed game. Big moment. Done in 2 seconds.)//Sigurd and Eivor aren't happy with the new King of Norway.//Sigurd and Eivor fuck off to England (with Basim and Hytham) to set camp there.//Eivor starts to forge alliances throughout England to make his clan's hold on England stronger.// Sigurd and Basim do their own thing.//Eivor meets Sigurd and Basim two or three times throughout his alliance forging.//Basim seems a bit off.//Sigurd says that he was told (by Basim?) that he is a descendant of the gods.// Sigurd wants to "pursue his destiny"// (sidenote: the last few things are all within one (!) short cutscene in a small house. d e v e l o p m e n t.)//Sigurd gets captured and tortured and loses his hand.//Eivor rescues Sigurd.// Sigurd is back in the settlement.//Sigurd distrusts Eivor because Eivor doesn't believe Sigurd and Sigurd thinks Eivor wants to take his title as the jarl (jarls are the bosses of settlements).// And then the end sequence hits. This is where I want to go into somewhat detail again. We go from Sigurd distrusts Eivor to "Eivor, I don't wanna be the boss of the town, so I don't hold a grudge anymore, let's go back to Norway and I'll show you I was right all along" like it's nothing. It's literally just that: You walk up to Sigurd, he says this (more or less) and you sail away. Again: development is taken very seriously in this game. Honestly, at this point I didn't even know that this was going to trigger the ending. My genuine thoughts were "Oh my, finally, after all this grinding, the story is going to start." when in reality of course, ironically, it was going to end. Absolute belter. So you sail to Norway with Sigurd, which takes fucking forever, because OF COURSE you have to sail (for everyone who didn't play the game, yes, sail, that means looking at a viking longship while occasionally moving the stick slightly to change its directions slightly) to your original settlement in Norway, for what feels like far too long, only to say Hi to your dad. Fucking lost it. I thought we were going to assassinate the King? Nah bruv let's just have some quick family talk instead. Some action? Nah. Just get back to the longship. A N D S T A R T S A I L I N G A G A I N. Where? Just around the curve of our settlement in Norway. Yes, they pulled the old trick of the ending is literally just right around the corner of your starting position hehe. Absolute belter. Is this to make it seem like something is about to happen? The calm before the storm? It doesn't work like that. Well, then you actually sail through a storm (lol), which doesn't matter, because Sigurd just says "Let's keep going" and, well, you keep going. Also, to this point the weather conditions have never affected neither Eivors health, nor the ship in any way whatsoever, so why should I be impacted by a storm now? Like, it's a nice thing for atmosphere, but at least make the ship harder to steer or something. Then you walk up a mountain. Funnily enough Sigurd walks in manner that shows that the walk against the storm isn't easy, whereas you, hah, you can just yeet yourself up that mountain like nothing. I could sprint up there. Fucking sprint. Anyway, Eivor and Sigurd enter the Isu temple, because of course, we had to throw an Isu temple in there, I mean, i t ' s A s s a s s i n ' s C r e e d. Was it hinted at before in the story? Not really. Were we chasing or searchig for it? Nah, better get that next alliance going. It just suddenly was. Again: development. So we walk to the main platform of the temple and activate the machine and bam we're in Valhalla (because at some point Ubisoft realised that maybe they should include what is literally in the name of the game). Again, were we looking for Valhalla? Like not in the sense that every viking was, but more in the sense

of was it the main objective of the game? Did Eivor look for a way to Valhalla? Was there anything that led us here other than Sigurd having had a few dreams (that only got mentioned, like, twice?) and being influenced into thinking he was a demigod or something? Nope, Eivor was looking for that next alliance to forge. So, Eivor realises that his experience of Valhalla is fake and he wants to get out. But fake-Odin doesn't want to let him go. In a really weird cutscene (jump to 6:30), Eivor eventually escapes Odin and enters a door with his settlement-family (look, I'm all here for metaphors, but this, this is just utter rubbish. It just doesn't make sense, and there is no payoff whatsoever). Odin actually had a build-up of some sort. In every assassination sequence he's there and talks with Eivor. I actually thought there would be some cool payoff/ending/reveal here. But nah, this ain't it chief. Yet somehow, until here, I had hope. I thought maybe now, building on all this confusion, there's gonna be a relatively good ending. Something enticing. Something that made everything somewhat worthwile. And Ubisoft went: Lol nah. So, you're out of the Isu machine again (for all the non-AC-peoples here: basically like the matrix. Eivor gets hooked up to the machine and experiences alternate reality: Valhalla), and Basim is there. What a twist. The guy that showed up like three times and went from friendly in the first time to super suspicious (like glaring-in-your-face-suspicious) in the two-or-so other major cutscenes he was in, has now been revealed as the enemy. Congrats to that. What a twist. The thing is, and this bothers me a lot actually, it could have been anyone there. It didn't need to be Basim. It wouldn't have felt out of place if it wasn't him. Why? Because Ubisoft failed terribly at making you connect to any character and at building any actual story (or character). It could have been Gunnar, the friendly black-smith in our settlement, and it would have been as fitting as Basim. Then Basim says that this is "for his son". Ah yes, the lost son of Basim, which was mentioned once. Right. Eivor defeats Basim by hooking him up on the Isu machine and gets back to the settlement with Sigurd (in my ending at least. There seems to be a possible ending in which Sigurd doesn't come back.) Cut to the modern day, where Layla now knows the coordinates of the Isu temple, goes there, hooks herself up to the machine, becomes the overseer of time with the other overseer of time which already was hanging out there (I mean yeah, great idea, terrible execution. Build it up, then you can have a payoff. This was just straight outta nowhere, and who cared about Layla anyway.) Anyway, meanwhile Basim, who was still hanging on that machine a fuck ton of years later, pops off, and is now living in the modern day. The idea here is, that we lost the hero (Layla) which caused the (just established) vilain (Basim) to do his fuckery in the modern day. But why should I care? Basim was basically nonexistent in the basically nonexistent story and suddendly I should feel sad or shocked, because he's in the modern day? Is this supposed to be intriguing? And yeah, Layla is "gone". Layla, who had no character building over three fucking games. Why should i be bothered? Why should I care about anything that just happened? Remember when a side character (Lucy) died in AC Brotherhood? That was intriguing. Why? Because they built her as a character we (Desmond) trusted, even though it was in the modern day (which no one really cares about in AC). And this is why Valhalla broke me and Odyssey didn't. Valhalla failed to make me care on a much deeper level. It's just a lot of nothingness. Empty characters in a nonexistent story. And by nonexistent, I mean non-built at all. When I play the game now, I have no actual reason, and throughout the game never actually had any actual reason, to continue. It was a chore. I didn't bother if after three hours of grind I would eventually get a mini-snippet of a husk of a story, and neither do I care now. Everything in

this game is so devoid of sparking curiosity and screams of lacklusterness to the point where I don't even know what I have actually expierenced. For fuck's sake Ubisoft, make me care again. At least once in 40 hours.

May I sum up Valhalla's "story" and content in the glorious words of Catherine Tate: Am I bovvered? The answer, sadly, is a holistic no.

#assassins creed #ac valhalla #sorry for the rant #this is my longest post yet #am i bovvered #sidenote: this is actually the first time that i'm genuinely pissed at ubisoft #i wasn't even this mad with odyssey #and that thing got a lot of hate #maybe i'm gonna delete this again

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

Text

Decebal Avram Chirilă SFW Alphabet Slasher OC

Authors Note: Just trying to work more on his character so I decided to try this SFW Alphabet. ENJOY!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Decebal is a person that isn't afraid of public display of affection, if he likes someone he will let them known, through compliments, flirting, hugs, and so on. He may come off as a womanizer (which he kind of is), but that's really just how he is. All his life during Romanian Communism he's been neglected completely from affection; the most he got were more mature women complimenting on how cute he was.

Even if you're just his friend, he will hug you, wrap his arm around your shoulder. Don't strictly take that as a romantic gesture. He is just friendly.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

This Romanian as a best friend? You're basically having yourself a loyal dog that will take a bullet, grasp a knife and give his life for his best friend. He hated himself for not being strong to save his parents so now as an adult, he protects the people that have a big value in his life.

He may seem very friendly, but he has a hard time trusting someone, and that someone has to prove themselves trustworthy, mostly because Decebal is a wanted man and he meet people that played the 'friend' role only to stab him in the back. If he calls you brother or sister, then you can count on him anytime. His word is gold.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Decebal loves hugs and cuddles, and he has no problem in sharing. This man is touch-starved for affection, although he will never admit it.

He usually loves to hug and cuddle from behind, his big arms wrapped around you, his chin rested on top of your head or if he's in a really good mood, he will spin you around. Romanian Rollercoaster!

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Alright, this man has very big issues with settling down and the whole marriage deal; although not impossible! As I said, he has a hard time letting anyone get close to his heart. It's kind of a paradox because he is starved for affection, but he runs like hell from marriage. You need to have nerves of steel if you want to get him into a little more 'serious' relationship. That strictly depends on you if he views you as a one-time thing or something more. All the women that were around him as a child after his parents were killed, were company ladies or prostitutes, toxic women so for him to meet someone who is genuinely nice to him out of no reason is a little more like a fairytale for him.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

As friendly as this man is, he is also very blunt. Decebal isn't the type to beat around the bush; if he has something to say he will. He is most of the time very honest and probably his words might hurt you, but he doesn't like to get drunk with water, which pretty much means he isn't the type to even lie to himself.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As I said above, marriage is pretty much a subject and a level he wants to step aside and avoid. He is a rogue one who loves to taste freedom in all ways. He had enough of the restrictions during the Romanian communism, so his outlaw life is something he cherishes. You will have to be someone who isn't into poly relationships. You may be his significant other (Again.... How did you do that?), but that doesn't mean you can tell him what to do. Stubborn Romanian Ass.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Decebal is a pretty gentle guy in his day to day life; he prefers to love than to fight, but again.... If the last resort is fighting, oh boy. He is the type to open the doors to the ladies, smile their ways, or compliment them. That's I suppose his gentle nature. He basically has three moods; the gentle romantic lover, the sassy and vulgar punk, and finally the fast, sadistic swordsman assassin.

On 80% of the time, he is a combo of the first two. The last one is a rarity because he prefers to smile than scowl, but he is called The Impaler for a reason.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

I did mention it in the cuddle part. He is a hugger and will do so with almost anyone who is nice to him or doesn't show to be his enemy. His hugs are very nice, especially when he does them from behind, twirling you around if he is in a very good mood.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

There are two ways that he says these words. One is when he is in a jokester mood saying something like 'Awww... I know you love me.' Then the more serious way that takes a lot to pull from the Romanian's lips. He may say the L-word but it depends on how he says it. That makes the difference.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He really isn't a jealous guy. Decebal values freedom most of all things and he doesn't want to be a possessive asshole to his s/o if that's the case. He gives you freedom, so he expects you to do the same.

If it's for example about someone he likes and someone hits on them, he will probably increase his game, topping his competitor, because Decebal has Latin blood running through his veins and he knows how to take someone's mind with his charms.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Romanian lover, French kisser. He loves to leave his partners with a dazed look after a kiss, so his kisses are full of passion and sensuality, his hand running through your hair, while his other hand strokes your hip. All the time his eyes are half-lidded looking into yours.

As for where he loves to be kissed? Try kissing the nape of his neck, you will feel him shiver and look over his shoulder at you with a cheeky smile.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He has a weak spot for children mostly because he knows how sensitive these little ones are. He was a little guy himself when his parents were killed, so he knows what such a tragedy can do to one. As for if he wants children? He isn't a father figure. Sometimes he acts like a teenager and he doesn't see himself be able to raise children with his style of life.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings are probably either very funny or lazy, depending on how he spent the night. He can wake up full of energy, blasting Romanian music in his headphones, singing, and preparing for the day. Lazy mornings are usually in bed, crawling downstairs and trying to prepare his coffee, drool running down the corners of his mouth.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

If you're a night person you got yourself a night owl. He loves to stroll through the city, going to a bar, having a few drinks, going to a club. Or if you prefer a much quieter environment, you two can sit down on the front porch, talking about whatever topics you want. He is a pretty cultured person so he can keep up a conversation all night long. Ooooor.... if you want a much more sensual night.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Alright; Decebal has the whole super confident guy attitude with a cheeky grin, all tall and handsome, but he has also a very sensitive side. He will reveal little by little about his past, torture, nightmares when he feels he can 100% trust you. Despite his loud nature, he also has a mysterious vibe that attracts people, especially ladies aaaand also danger to him.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

You really need the talent to anger Decebal. In his opinion, life is too short to have a scowl on your face. Like the Romanian saying 'Faci haz de necaz' which basically means 'I'm laughing at trouble'. All his childhood was depressing and gloomy and he is simply tired to victimize himself.

He really doesn't get mad so easily, but God help you if he gets angry, because it's like seeing Romania's bloody history depicted into a person.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

He has a pretty good memory and will remember everything you told him. Your favorite flowers, your favorite dish. He will remember. He doesn't forget if someone helped him and he doesn't forget when someone did it wrong.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He never had a long term relationship. All his relationships, if you can call them that were just for one night or even for a few hours. His life in his home country was harsh and he didn't have the privilege to meet someone he could call HIS. Then after leaving his country, he never stayed in one place which made relationships non-existent.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Decebal is very protective if you are someone he cares for, protecting you even if it means giving his own life. He is a 'Go hard or Go home' guy. He lost too much when he was young because of his cowardice, so when he unleashes his swords is dance time.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He is a romantic guy by heart and he loves to make his special one feel that way; a bouquet of flowers, something that he remembers you saying you want.

As for effort in general, he puts 100% of his blood. All his life he had to work hard until collapsing and none cared. He digs his teeth into the task at hand and won't give up just because it hurts. He faced enough abuse as a child to know that there are worse things than a back full of whip marks or broken fingers.

When he was young he used to be tortured if the task given to him wasn't done properly and it's in his system to do it right.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Probably his flirty attitude towards most people, which in his opinion is just friendly. Even if you magically are his s/o old habits die hard and he can be a real womanizer, so let's hope you're someone who can put up with a lot.

Another bad habit, or rather a good one? Depends on how you view it, is his daredevil side that makes jokes even in the face of death. Dying with a smile on your face and a good laugh? Sounds familiar.

Emotional Intimacy? He doesn't like this territory mostly because he feels like the coward he was as a child. Putting his feelings on a silver platter is a challenge for him and he usually screws up by taking everything as a joke.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He knows he looks good. He knows he is handsome. He knows the ladies dig it. He is mostly 50% concerned with how he looks. He makes sure he is clean, smells good and his hair is in that messy bedhead the women swoon over.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Probably if you and he have been together for a very long time. He just got used to you being around that when you leave is kind of depressing sight, but freedom is the most important thing for him, so he will swallow everything down and wave you goodbye, going on his lonely path yet again.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

One of the things that really may trigger his vulnerable side would be someone choking him because that reminds him too much of the days in jail as a child and teenager, the warden there being the father figure that used to choke him under the dirty cold water that reeked of rats on an almost daily basis.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He doesn't like controlling people, people that think they can make anyone do what they want just using the fear as a weapon. It reminds Decebal too much of the dictator of his country during the communist system. He went through much in his life to have his freedom be taken away... again. That is something that haunts his sleep at night, one of the reasons he mostly spends his nights out and his days sleeping.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He is usually sleeping during the day, mostly because he prefers to spend his nights strolling through the city, anywhere where he can be free, none to tell him what to do. He is usually sleeping on his front with his face buried into the pillow. Usually, if he wakes up in the middle of a nightmare, he stays awake and looks out the window or on the roof of the house or building, letting his mind known that he is free. He isn't chained.

#Decebal Avram Chirilă #slasher oc #Original characters #sfw #alphabet #Killer OC

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hi Steph! What are your and you readers' favorite Johnlock visiting the Holmes parents fics? I'm talking about canon Holmeses - the ones we see in the show :)

Hi Nonny!!

Ah, I’ve only got a few, but I’m sure everyone would love to add their own!

VISITING THE HOLMESES

Engaged by lifeonmars (NR, 3,146 w. || Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Holmes Family, Song Fic) – Sherlock did not believe in marriage, but he wanted to be married. He found this something of a surprise. Part 2 of Damage

Christmas at Holmes Cottage by johnlockedstarkid (G, 4,295 w., 7 Ch. || Christmas, Fake Relationship, Love Confessions, Holmes Family, Pining, Kisses, Fluff, Allusions to Mystrade) – Sherlock doesn’t want to have to deal with his mother’s wishes for him to find a partner when he goes to visit them for Christmas, so asks John to pose as his boyfriend. Little does he know he’s not the only one who wishes that the relationship could be real.

The Only Available Transportation by blueink3 (T, 5,379 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Fluff and Angst, Insecure Sherlock, Caring John, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Birthday, Family, Misunderstandings) – It’s possibly the desperation that’s seeped into his voice despite his best intentions, or perhaps it’s just a mother’s intuition, but she knows that whatever he’s calling about is Serious, hangover be damned. “What’s happened?” she asks, tone soft and as comforting as a hot cup of tea on a cold winter’s night. “Mummy,” he begins, voice catching. “I think John may be moving out.”

Maybe This Christmas by feverishsea (T, 6,021 w., 1 Ch. || Matchmaker Anthea, Anthea POV, Slight Mystrade, Holmes Family) – Anthea has given up her life, her own desires, even her name in service of something greater than herself. But that doesn’t mean she can’t see when someone else wants something – even if she doesn’t happen to care overmuch for that person. And it doesn’t mean she isn’t willing to help.

that thing you like by misspamela (E, 7,165 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers) – “Happy Christmas, etc. etc.” Sherlock and John go to the Holmes’ for Christmas, and everyone thinks they’re together.

Merlot by Itsallfine (E, 14,844 w., 17 Ch. || Christmas, Pining Sherlock, Wine, Slow Burn, First Kiss / Time, Love Confessions, Wine, Holmes Family) – Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays. Part of 25 Days of Fic-Mas 2015.

Never-Ending Cycle by orphan_account (T, 17,211 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Est. Rel., Proposal, Fluff) – Or, four times Sherlock Holmes attempted to propose to John Watson, and the Christmas Party at which he finally did. Sherlock thinks he’s a miserable failure, John is confused, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade provide some unsatisfactory advice, and Mummy is, as always, the solution. All in a lovely, fluffy holiday theme.

Winter’s Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter’s Delights

echoes through time by chellefic (E, 21,619 w. || First Time, Romance, ACD & BBC, Epistolary) – Mummy sends a trunk from the Holmes cottage in Sussex to 221B. Its contents alter the way John and Sherlock see themselves and one another.

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock’s parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (E, 30,568 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Rel., Roadtrips, Slow Burn, Mummy Holmes) – “You love your mother, Sherlock?” John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk. “Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

An Acquired Taste by kinklock (E, 31,059 w., 4 Ch. || Vampires AU || Vampire Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Bat!Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour, Magical Realism, Fluff and Angst, Blood Drinking, Holmes Family, Slow Burn) – At Montague Street when Sherlock was forced to sate his body’s needs, he was at least able to wander about the flat as much as he pleased. At Baker Street, it was mini-bags in a mini-fridge and bedroom confinement.

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w., 14 Ch. || Rich Holmeses AU || First Kiss / Time, Holmes Family, Virgin Sherlock, Anal, First Meetings, Bossy Bottomlock) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family’s private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it’s time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

John Watson’s Twelve Days of Christmas by earlgreytea68 (M, 53,464 w., 14 Ch. || Christmas, Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Alternate First Meeting, Falling in Love, Fluff and Angst, Hardcore Pining) – It’s the holiday season. John Watson needs money. Sherlock Holmes needs something else.

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Hand Jobs / Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It’s 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn’t need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

MARKED FOR LATER

(I haven’t read any of these, but I’ve tagged them as “Holmes Family” so I presume that they play a part in their lives)

Pillow Replacement by Atisenia (T, 4,754 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Humour, Domestic Fluff, Misunderstandings, Visiting the Holmeses) – They're visiting Sherlock's parents and Sherlock is acting very domestic. Is he only pretending for his parents' sake?

All I Want For Christmas by Mssmithlove (E, 19,508 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Mystrade, Christmas, Holmes Family, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pining) – Taking Sherlock’s platonic university flatmate home with him for Christmas can be a tricky business. Especially when he wishes their relationship wasn’t platonic at all. Part 18 of Happiness Awaits

Sherlock Holmes & The Mysterious Ex by Gatergirl79 (M, 27,942 w. || Family, Romance, Holmes Family) – Sherlock and John are forced to spend Christmas with Sherlock’s family. An unsettling idea especially when John will have to play ‘Boyfriend’ thanks to Mycroft. But why exactly does Sherlock want to avoid a family party?

Sacré Coeur by Mamaorion (M, 95,235 w., 27 Ch. || S4 Fix It Rewrite, First Kiss, UST / RST, Eventual Happy Ending, Coming Out, Holmes Family, Marriage Proposal, Husbands, Healing, Evil Mary, Beekeeping, Caretaker Sherlock, Mind Palace, Alzheimer’s Disease, Protective / Big Brother Mycroft, TD-12) – In this s4 fixit, John must piece together the gaps in his altered memory if he and Sherlock are to face the terror that has plagued Sherlock since childhood. As they untangle the web, seven years of hidden love ignite.

October to Hogmanay by snorklepie (E, 127,318 w., 25 Ch. || Post HLV Fix-It, Awkward First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Sherlock is a Mess, Shameless Smut, Sherlock’s Past, Scotland, Poison, Holmes Family, Kilts, Dancing, Angst) – John stared at Sherlock’s profile against the cab window and exhaled slowly. After a long moment, he reached out and touched Sherlock’s long fingers where they were fiddling with the button on his coat. The tall man didn’t look around again, but his fingers slowly unfurled before curling deliberately around John’s hand. Part 2 of Scotland

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

The Edinburgh Problem by snorklepie(E, 152,095 w., 39 Ch. || Post-HLV/S3 Fix It, Pre-Slash/Bromance to Romance, Travelling, Humour, First Kiss/Time, Holmes Family, Sherlock’s Big Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Family Secrets, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Flashbacks, Attempted Sexual Assault, Jealousy, Implied Rape/Non-Con) – After he separates from Mary, John returns to Baker Street. Following a request for help from Sherlock’s cousin Violet, the detective and his blogger take a trip to Edinburgh. John discovers more about the Holmes family and Sherlock than he bargained for, but tries not to run screaming. Part 1 of the Scotland series

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #holmes family #Anonymous #family #fic rec sunday

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cherry-valentine · 4 years

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Fall 2020 Anime Season:

Golden Kamuy Season 3 is, so far, just as good as the first two seasons. For anyone unfamiliar with the show, it follows a former soldier called “Immortal Sugimoto” (nicknamed so for his tendency to survive a lot of shit that would kill most people) and a young Ainu (the Japanese equivalent of Native Americans) girl as they search Northern Japan (and even parts of Russia) for hidden Ainu gold. The story is pretty wild, with threats coming from the wildlife and the harsh, snowy conditions as often as from mercenaries, assassins, and various other human dangers. The cast has expanded enough that we have several separate groups of cool, well-written characters roaming about (and they’ve shuffled a bit from season two, making their interactions very interesting). Sugimoto remains one of my favorite anime protagonists. He’s one of the more brutal, violent main characters I’ve seen, but, strangely, also one of the nicest. He’s kind to innocents (both people and animals) but will slaughter his enemies without hesitation. He’s also pretty funny. Then again, almost every character is subject to the show’s weird but endearing humor. It’s very hard to dislike any character, even the ones who are quite cruel. The show is also notable for having a lot of homoerotic subtext. The beefy, handsome men sure do love taking their clothes off and wrestling. Like, taking it ALL off. Multiple times per season. Yeah. Watch this show, everybody.

Ikebukuro West Gate Park is a new show this season that I was initially interested in because it reminded me of Durarara!! in that it’s set in Ikebukuro and features color gangs. That’s where the similarities end, however. Whereas Durarara!! had tons of supernatural elements and just plain craziness, IWGP is more realistic by comparison. The show follows Makoto, a seemingly normal guy who seems to function in a sort of “odd jobs” type of role for a color gang called the G Boys. While they’re a gang, they don’t seem like criminals or thugs, or even delinquents. They really feel more like a club, held together by their respect for the leader referred to as King. So far the series seems to be episodic in nature, with most stand-alone episodes focusing on some sort of social issue, from drug addiction to immigration. It’s interesting to see these issues presented in such a sympathetic light, viewed through the lens of Tokyo’s youth. The art is nice, with varied character designs and animation that’s just good enough that you don’t notice the problems very often. The music is a highlight, with my favorite opening theme of the season and one of the better ending themes.

Magatsu Wahrheit is a show I was very iffy on at first. It has a lot of things working against it. It’s based on a video game I’ve never heard of, the opening theme is one of the cheapest, most unimpressive things I’ve ever seen (note: it does improve a few episodes in!), and the series overall has a low budget feel (though nowhere near as bad as Gibiate from last season). But the story is actually very interesting and very well written. The basic premise is that Young Man A (I’m not remembering these weird names, sorry) works as a delivery truck driver in your usual “modern fantasy” setting (kingdoms and monsters and other medieval fantasy trappings alongside trucks and cars and advanced science laboratories). When he’s loading up his deliveries, Young Man B, a fresh recruit in the kingdom’s military and general goody-two-shoes, randomly offers to help Young Man A load his truck. Young Man B spots some boxes off to the side and, assuming they were part of the load, puts them into the truck while Young Man A is talking to his boss. These boxes turn out to be illegal weapons being smuggled by a group of... freedom fighters? I guess? This, in turn, drags Young Man A into a shit storm of trouble when the illegal weapons are discovered in his truck. It also leads directly to tragedy for Young Man B as well, setting them both on wildly different but similarly dangerous paths. The whole idea that a simple act of kindness for a stranger sets off such a terrible series of events is pretty engaging. As it stands in the show right now, Young Man A is the more compelling character. He’s just a truck driver. He’s a coward who runs from danger and wants no part of any of this. But at the same time, he can be surprisingly brave at times (usually when a child is in danger). In a twist on the usual trope, these spurts of bravery are rarely rewarded. At least twice, his decision to act has led to heartbreaking tragedy. So far Young Man B is your typical “idealistic youth realizing the military isn’t comprised entirely of nice people” type of character. As such, he’s just not as interesting. He hasn’t had as much screen time though, so hopefully he’ll grow as a character. I guess it says a lot that I’ve written so much about the show, and almost all of it is about the plot. But the plot is really the only remarkable thing about it. In this case, that’s enough.

Higurashi no Naku Koro ni is, well, a bit of a trainwreck. And I’m not necessarily talking about the quality of the show. Let me explain: The show was marketed as a remake of the 2006 anime, which was one of my all-time favorite series. I was pretty excited about it. Lots of new fans who had never watched the original started this one. The first episode was okay. I wasn’t crazy about how shiny everything looked (I realize the original’s visuals are a bit dated now but at least they were unique, this new one looks like pretty much every harem anime from the past five years) but the story seemed to be doing good and I looooooved the use of the original opening theme song as the closer. Then episode two dropped, and the fandom basically exploded. The first few minutes of episode two reveal that this is not a remake, but a sequel! Shock! At first, I was impressed by this little bit of manipulation. It felt exciting to realize the truth. But then it dawned on me (and the rest of the fandom) that new viewers who came to watch this were screwed over. Those first few minutes of episode two spoil some very important things from the original series (we’re talking major spoilers here), and it’s going to ruin a lot of plot points for those who never watched the original and now want to go back and watch it first. So here’s a PSA: If you’re new to Higurashi and want to try this new series, DON’T unless you’re okay with watching a sequel that spoils the original.

Okay, so now let’s talk about this new series/sequel. First, the good points: The ending theme is GORGEOUS. Just... go watch it. Soak it up. The opening isn’t bad but I can’t help comparing it to the far superior original opening. Aside from the overly shiny and generic character designs, the rest of the visuals are pretty great. The scenery in particular is very nice. In terms of story, I like the idea of beginning each new “arc” by staying close to the original story, then throwing in some pretty wild deviations that make them end in completely different ways because a character that lived through the original is trying to make subtle changes (that so far have ended up turning out very badly). When it comes to the bad points, one in particular sticks out: It’s not scary! The original had some truly unsettling moments, and so far this one hasn’t even been creepy. It’s had some moments that obviously tried to be scary but have failed miserably. For example, the early scenes with Rena in the original were actually terrifying. But I felt none of the intensity or creepiness in this sequel. Still, it’s nice to see these characters again and to see how this story deviates as someone tries desperately to change the outcomes.

Haikyuu!! has another new season and... I don’t really know what to say about it. I’ve talked about this show several times now. Looks like this season is going to focus primarily on one long match, a concept I’m not crazy about. They also made the baffling decision to cut in with a full episode about a rival team’s match right in the middle of showing the match with the main team. I mean I love seeing more of the rival teams but it felt disjointed to do it this way. Still yet, it’s a fun and energetic show full of great characters and easily understood volley ball matches.

Jujutsu Kaisen is probably the most hyped up new show this season, and I would say it definitely deserves that hype. It’s a pretty familiar shounen fighting anime setup: A teenage boy acquires special powers and joins a school to train so that he can use those powers for good. However, following that formula does little to negate just how fun and well-done this series is. A lot of people have compared it to Naruto (the protagonist is a vessel for a powerful entity, he joins a trio of characters with a more serious and moody black-haired boy and a chick, and they have a badass teacher with silver hair who keeps his face partially covered). So sure, it’s like Naruto... except it’s much better than Naruto in every conceivable way. The animation and fight choreography are consistently fantastic. The main character is not the least bit annoying. The only chick in the group (there are more cool ladies in the story, just not in this group!) is a badass in her own right and her story and motivations have absolutely nothing to do with romantic interest in any of the guys. Even the teacher character is incredibly fun. The music is great, with my favorite ending theme of the season. You know it’s an excellent ending theme when people start making different versions of it using characters from other shows. It’s so, well, fun. A word I keep using here, because that’s the first word that comes to mind when I’m watching this series.

Talentless Nana is one of those shows that’s going to be difficult for me to talk about without spoiling a very cool surprise. This surprise comes at the end of episode one (basically, the show makes you think it’s about something, but turns out it’s about something completely different). So if you want to really enjoy that surprise, stop reading this and go watch episode one before coming back. If you’ve already watched it or don’t mind having the surprise spoiled, here we go: The first episode sets up the series to be a cheap Boku no Hero Academia knock-off. We have a school of “talented” (super powered) kids training to use their powers to save humanity from (so far) unseen monsters referred to as “the enemies of humanity”. We are told one boy has no “talent” or special power and he’s ridiculed for this. There’s a new transfer student named Nana, a super sweet and cheerful girl with pink hair who has the ability to read minds. There’s also another transfer student, a sullen and quiet boy named Kyouya who hasn’t disclosed what his “talent” is. With that setup, I think a lot of people were ready to dismiss it as “BNHA, but not as good”. But then, a few minutes before the first episode ends, we’re hit with the twist that reveals what this show is really about: Nana is the one with no “talent”. She lied about being able to read minds (the boy we thought had no talent did actually have one). She’s a totally normal human being, and she has been sent to infiltrate the school and kill off the students, the true “enemies of humanity” (called so because their powers make them incredibly dangerous). Thus, the show is about a normal human girl using only her wits and skill in manipulation to kill off super-powered individuals. Watching her work is an absolute delight. She is ruthless and incredibly intelligent, but she does have one major problem: the other transfer student Kyouya, who is at least as smart as she is and is suspicious of her right off the bat. But since he’s not sure she’s up to no good, he can’t really act on his suspicions. Nana in turn knows he suspects her, so she has to be careful around him. As a result, the two become “friends”, constantly watching and outmaneuvering each other. In this way, the series reminds me of the early, best parts of Death Note, with the mental sparring between Light and L. But the most fun you’ll have with this show is watching Nana come up with ways to deal with each new “talent” she comes across, from the ability to time travel to necromancy, all while having no special power of her own. The art is nice, a bit generic, nothing too fancy. The music is great, with one of the better opening themes this season.

Moriarty the Patriot focuses on the classic Sherlock antagonist Professor Moriarty. Let me get this out of the way first: I know next to nothing about Sherlock. I haven’t even watched any of the various tv shows about him. What I know of the character basically comes from mentions of him in Detective Conan. So I’m coming into this series with no preconceived notions about these characters and no other versions to compare them to. Anyway, Moriarty as a series is about class warfare. Moriarty as a character pretty much embodies the phrase “eat the rich”. If you’re familiar with the phrase and understand its meaning, you’ll probably like this show. Moriarty works as a professor, but his side job is as a “Crime Consultant”. He helps the poor lower classes get revenge on the cruel nobles and elites who have wronged them. This revenge most often involves murder. There’s something refreshing about how unapologetic it is. In most anime, the hero tries to find other ways to punish evil than by actually killing them, or there’s some lesson involved about how revenge isn’t the answer or how killing someone who wronged you makes you as bad as them. In this series, there’s absolutely none of that. People get their revenge and, so far as I’ve watched, seem to be living much happier lives afterwards. In this way the show totally avoids being preachy. The art is gorgeous, with classy character designs and lovely backgrounds. There’s a certain lushness to it. The music is very nice as well (particularly that poppy ending theme). The only downside is that this has probably ruined me for watching other versions of these characters now. I mean, once you see them as sexy anime pretty boys, it’s hard to see them as anything else.

Carry Over Shows From Previous Seasons:

Black Clover

Best of Season:

Best New Show: Jujutsu Kaisen

Best Opening Theme: Ikebukuro West Gate Park

Best Ending Theme: Jujutsu Kaisen

Best New Male Character: Moriarty (Moriarty the Patriot)

Best New Female Character: Nana (Talentless Nana)

#anime reviews #seasonal anime #fall 2020 anime #anime recommendations #text #jujutsu kaisen #moriarty the patriot #munou na nana #ikebukuro west gate park

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randomeditscreates · 3 years

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The Force Awakens Breakdown

So I know no one gives a shit about my opinions on movies and my last post about the sequel trilogy [ST] But honestly I want to continue talking about these crap movies. So now that we got that through, lets start.

1) Jar Jar Abrams start this movie by basically ripping off the concept of the OT [Original Trilogy] The First Order [The empire] has taken over with a dark side user [Kylo Ren in this one, and Darth Vader in the OT] with a more powerful dark side user in the background pulling all the strings [Snoke and Creamy Sheeve respectfully] With an opposing side that happening to be small in numbers, [The Rebels and The Resistance(What they're resisting, no fucking clue, but it sounds nice)]

2) Rey Palpatine (I refuse to use the other name) is the protagonist of this story, and just so happens to live in a desert planet, you know like Luke. And happens to be the most laziest character Jar Jar and Kathleen Kennedy ever created. She's kind, and friendly and her only flaw is that she doesn't have any family. She's a scavenger, yet has so much proficient in the force, you would think she's been training for decades. She has great skill in flying ships and fixing them, that you would think, it would at least be a throwaway line. But nope, she has no reasoning for knowing how to fly or fix ships and the only reasoning we really have is that, Jar Jar wanted it, so he put it in. And throughout this movie and following ones, she picks up skills like their pokemon cards because fuck hard work. Now Rey pisses me off, not just because of her lazy character, but because during all the movies, nothing ever fucking happens to her, she doesn't get hurt to an extreme degree like Finn, She doesn't go through a huge revelation, all that happens is that Rey loses Han (someone she barely knows) then she magically beat Kylo,( who if you don't remember has years even decades over Rey in training) and then decides to find Luke. And that leads to the third problem...

3) The movie is too full. for being a movie that is 2 hours and 16 minutes, yes I fucking looked it up, this movie seems to drag on and not develop any of their concepts. Because while I fucking agree that Rian Johnson left fucking nothing for Jar Jar to work with, at least his story had some character development, and yes it dumb and breaks the world but I'll take what I can get. All the main characters in this movie all ends up the same as they start off with. Rey is a happy and kind character with no past, turns to Rey is a happy and kind character with no past and force abilities. Kylo Ren is tangled up Christmas lights drenched in yogurt and acid, and turns into a tangled up Christmas lights drenched in yogurt and acid, who ends up Killing his father. But if you remember is haunted by that death by TLJ [The Last Jedi] Poe Dameron is a self assured Spit-fired Pilot and ends up a Spit-fired self assured Pilot who's Not dead. Even the characters who do get develop, Finn and, oh my god, it's only Finn, get's completely rewritten in TLJ and gets the story arc redone just terribly. We can't even talk about Han, Leia or even Maz, because Han doesn't change and then dies, Leia doesn't get enough screen time to show anything about this character, and Maz is supposed to Yoda in a yellow and female clothing, and they do shit with that too because it leads to this..

4) Maz Kanata and holy fuck, she's literally the reason Han is dead. Maz yells very loudly to the entire cantina that Han Solo is here, which leads for the First Order to be notified. She somehow has Luke's lightsaber [It doesn't get explained, not even in the later movies] and somehow Rey is drawn to it, and leads to Maz giving advice, but you know the shitty type because it ends with Rey running away in the forest for her to get caught by Kylo. She tells Finn that he shouldn't leave, and that it turns makes him severely injured. And if you don't remember she does the same to Han, and he ends up dead. And her cantina gets fucking destroyed after being their for centuries, yet she couldn't give a fuck. and it shows the true issue, Jar Jar and Kathleen Kennedy in extent doesn't give a fuck about characters and just wants to to get from point A to point B with a lot of flashing lights.

5) Han Solo: Character Assassination. A character who developed into a man who was ready to risk it all for the rebellion. A character we loved in the OT is now broken down into his New Hope person all over again. Who apparently has scammed everyone in the galaxy? Um, Jar Jar, I know it might seem strange to you, but a smuggler needs people who trust him to get jobs and therefore receive income. But I guess I shouldn't expect much from the same man that think a Smuggler would want to be easily known or recognized. Also Leia and him are either broken up or divorced and that makes me feel really happy to know a couple that I loved are no longer together and one of this dead. Because Han Solo is just there for fan service and to shoot his gun, because that's what he's here for to go pew pew. Oh and to die, that what all the OT fans wanted, One of the main three characters killed by their own child.

6) Subtle doesn't exist in this movie, everything is given the delicacy of a hammer. We find out that Kylo or Ben, (I really don't fucking give a shit) is the son of Han solo, by Snoke just saying, the droid is in the possession of your father Han Solo, like no shit I assumed that when you mentioned the Millennium Falcon. Who would you think I thought Kylo was the son of, Chewbacca? Finn's story arc is the only one that makes you think, and brings a new aspect to the movies, and to the Stormtroopers. I just fucking wish we could do the same for the others Stormtroopers, because the other are killed with no regards that most of them, as Finn states were sold into this at a young age. Good job Resistance for killing all these people who was forced into this with no regards. How does a series that came like a decade before you (Star Wars: The Clones War Series) manage to develop the concepts that stormtroopers or clones are not mindless drones better than you. (The Rookie episode in the first season helps flesh out all the clones and they only have 25 minutes per episode, get you're shit together Lucas Films) And these are only the examples I could think of, off the top of my head.

7) Rey is a great example of Sexism, but instead it goes the other way around then usual. All the male characters are laughed at and or ridiculed, but all the females are perfect and don't need to change. One of the last scene is a great example of this, Kylo Ren, the one with years of training and two powerful masters who trained him, gets beat by Rey, someone who has no skill with a lightsaber and didn't even know she could use the force until Jar Jar decided to pull it out his ass. Even Finn who has at least close quarters fighting skills under his belt couldn't beat Kylo, and has to be saved by Rey. Now I will admit to being a feminist but Kathleen version completely differs from mine. Because while I believe both men and women are both capable of reaching the same level of skill, Kathleen think women should be able to do incredible things without working for it. And it clear by her stupid "The Force is female" Like shut the fuck up, the force was never given a gender, why the fuck are you doing it now? I also found out that most of the Crew in Lucas Film, happens to be female. and it's clear who's doing that. Again I am a feminist but I hate when people just have diversity for the sake of diversity instead of the person's capabilities. It's very vindictive of the Feminist movement, The Black Lives Movement and LGBT+ agenda as well, as we're trying to make people see them as just like everyone else which they fucking are (I will not stand for any form of bigotry and if you don't like something simply because of someone's race, gender or sexuality, you are shit human being) , they just so happen to not be a straight white man. And that they have the same struggles as everyone else. Also we already had strong female characters in the series without the big emphasis on the fact that they have a vagina. As from the basis, Star Wars was never about gender and because of this we got fully developed character we could relate to.

Now Dishonorable Mentions

A) This movie is fucking 2 hours and 16 minutes long, yet it feel so unfinished

B) Jar Jar Abrams deep seated love for mystery boxes and how it get more screen time then the actual Character it involves (Rey)

C) The movie could've been great, they're was definitely potential but it was dwarfed by mystery boxes and Visuals

D) Rey is not a Mary Sue in this Movie, she becomes one by the end of TLJ but she's not yet. So I guess it one positive.

E) Jar Jar inability for world Building, and doesn't even fucking tries to explain how the First Order even began to rise.

F) Poe Fucking Dameron, and the amount of time that is dedicated to him. I love him but come on, just make it someone like Han, as it could bring up the relationship between him and his son, which could then bring more emphasis when we reveal their relationship. But no lets bring up a character who we all assume is dead until about the end. And then does absolutely fucking nothing.

G) And Lastly when we see Han die, we don't get a scene of any of the characters we give a fuck about and who knows Han mourn his death, instead we just have two characters who had about 15 minutes of screen time with Han, and Chewbacca. And it doesn't get better because Rian Johnson decides in the second movie that we don't need a scene of Luke mourning over the man who fought side by side with him and is his Sister's husband. No Instead we get a scene of him drinking tit milk.

So that's it, well for now, I'll make another post for this if I have any more issues. But that it for now. I would also like to make it damn clear now, as I'll probably continue this, that me tearing apart a movie is based soley on the technical aspects of it. And that if you enjoyed this movie, you are entitled to it, but you cannot defend this movie's writing , because as I hoped I made clear, the writing is very much shit.

#star wars #rey star wars #rey palpatine #finn star wars #poe dameron #luke skywalker #critique

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