#and while yes this change is necessary in order for him to be free. its something he'll have to abandon his kindness for! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aliensunflower-fics · 2 years ago

Text

CHANGING FACES Chapter 6: Arrival

[ Prefer to read on Archive of Our Own? Link HERE! ]

[ Previous Chapter - Next Chapter ]

After years of dealing with each other Lila Rossi win’s when she convinces Hawkmoth that Marinette is Ladybug. In order to throw off suspicion and keep the Miracle Box safe Marinette and her supportive parents leave Paris and head to Gotham of all places. In this new place away from her friends and her unhealthy routines Marinette is forced to confront herself and change for the better. Helping her on her journey is a surprising new friend and potential ally. When Alya missing her friend learns about the chance to win a free trip to Gotham she convinces the class to work hard to qualify. When her new life clashes with her old one will Marinette be able to hold on strong to her new confidence or will she crumble under the pressure?

( This fic will be for the most part comedic, fluffy, and sweet, with only a bit of seriousness to tie it together. With only the mildest salt because I don’t think the class or Adrien are bad people just that they can be naive and selfish thanks to the canon writing. I hope you enjoy reading this work and have fun with me on this journey. )

CHAPTER 6:

Arrival

Marinette had never been so happy to be on solid ground. The plane ride had been… Turbulent to say the least not to mention long leaving Marinette to agonize and worry the entire time that maybe while she was busy up in the sky Hawkmoth would strike luckily the freak of a villain seemed busy and so the flight passed without the need to use Kaalki which was a great thing as Marinette was unsure just how precise the power of voyage was.

As the small family of 3 disembarked from the plane with their meager belongings Marinette breathed in the fresh air with relief it was chilly and barely light out … She was tired, yes, but she was also giddy and a strange sense of freedom was filling her with every step she took. There was no Hawkmoth here, no purple butterflies no constant need to lock her own emotions into vault, no more need to lie to her parents, no more Bustier telling her to be the classes shining example, no more Lila whispering lies behind her back, no more Adrien too shoot her longing puppy dog stares as he waited for her to ‘forgive him’ when he had never bothered to apologize.

She was free. She was safe? … Well as safe as one could be moving to a city known for its killer clowns and freaks in masks. Not that Marinette wasn’t prepared for that, her training with her own mother and the Amazon’s of Themyscira for the last few years had transformed her small unassuming body into a weapon. Not to mention the new magical training the Kwamis were giving her, Tikki especially pushed for more training once she started learning just how awful some of the villains of Gotham were and she made Marinette promise that if the Joker so much as even looked at her she would not hesitate to transform him into a cockroach. Technically it wasn’t murder so she figured Batman would be fine with it.

As they moved through the airport presenting their documentation to the necessary people Marinette’s excitement only grew with her fingers twitching with anticipation as the polite woman welcomed them to their new home and they exited the security clearance area into the wider airport. Her eyes scanned the crowd eagerly until they landed on the group of 3 men chatting amongst themselves. She let out a squeal and started running, catching the men’s attention as she flung herself at them in joy. Jason however acted fast and caught her first wrapping her into a tight brotherly hug and lifting her off the ground and away from Dick and Alfred.

“Woah there jelly bean you trying to take the old man out? Lucky I caught you huh!”

Marinette snorted and rolled her eyes trying to squirm out of Jason’s grasp so she could hug Alfred and Dick who was looking rather put out.

“Oh please Alfred’s not frail he’s like Grandma Gina he will live forever at this rate and be healthier then all of us.”

Tom and Sabine chuckled at the scene as they walked over with their meager bags and proceeded to hug Alfred and catch up while Dick tried to pry Marinette free from Jason in order to get his hug that Jason had so rudely stolen. Marinette meanwhile dangled from Jason’s arms with an amused and exasperated look on her face. She’d missed her ‘brothers’ greatly and was happy to see them again. There was just one thing, one tiny little thing…

“When did you freaks get so tall!”

The sudden comment had both boys stopping as they seemingly for the first time paused to take in Marinette’s appearance. Sure they had seen pictures of her and video chatted plenty of times but this was the first time in years where they had physically been around her and now that they were…

“I think the better question here is why are you so short.” Marinette gasped in faux offense squirmed out of Jason’s grasp clutching her heart in mock betrayal.

“How could you say such a thing… Dick is my favorite now.”

The oldest Wayne grinned and accepted his hug while sticking his tongue out at Jason who was playing the part of the dramatically betrayed.

However now that Dick was hugging his little sister he could not help but blurt out. “God you really are short.”

Marinette squawked indignantly at the comment. “What no! I’m normal it's you two who are the-” She gestured at them with waving arms. “Alfred! What have you been feeding them and where can I get some!”

Alfred chuckled and opened his arms calmly to accept the warm hug of his god daughter. “I’m afraid I haven’t been feeding them anything unusual; they simply sprung up like weeds.”

Marinette huffed and puffed up her cheeks. Stupid genetics.

“Ah don’t feel too bad jelly bean Dickie here isn’t even THAT tall, just wait till you meet Kori in the flesh now that's tall.”

As the group moved its way out of the airport Marinette recalled the measurements she’d received when designing Kori’s wedding dress, not to mention the pictures that showed the beautiful tan woman towering a full head over Dick at the altar. Maybe it was something in the water of Gotham that made people tall. Considering all the supervillains she would not doubt it.

“When will I finally get to meet Kori and Mar’i face to face anyway? I wanna hug my cute little niece already!!!”

“Why? Because she’s the only one not taller than you?” Jason snickered before letting out a surprised yelp as Marinette playfully punched him in his side with a pout. She had some surprising strength in that arm of hers.

“Later in the week, they wanted to come pick you up with us but it was so early and your parents told us your new school was giving you a week off to adjust to the new timezone before classes start.” Honestly it had been a hectic night with Mar’i refusing to sleep determined to go with Dick to the airport but eventually she fell asleep clutching Silkie and so Dick had left alone.

“What school are you going to anyway, jelly bean? Maybe I can come pick you up sometime after school for some lessons in self defense at my gym.” Mostly he wanted to see her flatten some of the men twice her size; he knew Sabine had been training Marinette since she was young and he was eager to see what his little sis was capable of.

Marinette smiled at the thought. “That sounds nice, as for my new school mom and Alfred arranged it for me, I think it's called Gotham Academy.”

Marinette missed the way Dick and Jason whipped their heads around to glare at Alfred. Gotham Academy wasn’t a bad school, in fact one could easily say the opposite: it had great staff, good facilities, and it had accepted Marinette on a full ride scholarship thanks to her high grades and many achievements. The problem was the school was also full of a bunch of rich leeches, but worst of all it had Damian. Now both older Wayne’s could admit they loved there little brother even if Jason would deny it to keep his cool reputation but Damian had a bit of a bad track record with first impressions. Not to mention the fact that the 3 Wayne’s had already discussed how best to introduce the Dupain-Chengs to the rest of the family so they could all be one bigger happier family and they had agreed to wait and while and let them settle in before dropping the bomb that was the Wayne family and more specifically BRUCE on to them but if Marinette met Damian at school and got a bad idea of him… Things would get complicated.

Alfred however unlike the younger two Wayne men was not worried. He had a feeling that Marinette and Damian were just what the other needed right now. Yes, he’d heard many things about Marinette’s situation from her parents. What she needed now was someone to bring out that bold Marinette he knew was waiting for a chance to shine. And as for his youngest grandson while he had been doing much better and had made friends he was still hostile and wary Marinette however might be just what he needed. The old man chuckled with a warm smile.

“I think you will like Gotham Academy very much, Marinette.”

—-----------------------------------

Damian Wayne had a reputation. Since his first ever day at school at the age of 10 after he’d moved in with his father the young heir had… Problems with other students. His personality was icey and his training too deeply ingrained that school and him had not gone well. Yet his father refused to let him skip or be homeschooled, determined that with time school would help him develop his social skills. For the first few years Damian was alone he shoved people away and did only what was required waiting for the day when finally his father would see that school was beneath him and he could achieve so much more without it.

At 13 that reputation evolved. And not for the better. Damian had been so sure of his own intelligence and his own superiority that he failed to notice that viper slinking through the grass. A girl, the same age as him, unlike other girls who had failed to approach him due to the obvious attempts, Lila had been more subtle. Instead of acting interested in him she acted unfazed she even began dating Jon the only person his age Damian was close to. He’d let his guard down thinking that she was nothing but a simple sweet girl. But he had never been more wrong.

Somehow the viper had found his weakness, somehow she knew that deep down under all his posturing he felt insecure, unloved, unwanted, and she prayed on it. She made him feel strong, she made him feel special, she made him feel wanted, she used lies to paint Jon the villain and herself the victim so that Damian would save her and fall deeper into the strange infatuation that clouded his mind. She was a snake. And worst of all he had not even discovered her lies himself; it had been sheer dumb luck overhearing her plot her schemes that had revealed the truth to him.

But by that point it was too late. The vipers poison had already spread and Damian Wayne’s reputation fell from just ‘ice king’ to ‘monster’ even after the lawsuit even after proving her lies and sending the snakes father to jail. Even after he had proven himself innocent… The reputation clung to him. It was a stain that would not wash off, even after Dick convinced him to go to therapy and his attitude improved, even after he fixed the broken relationship with his family, even after he broke out of his shell and made friends in his school, the stain was still there and every action he did and didn’t take only made it worse.

It's not that Damian wasn’t trying, because he was really. He tried to be polite and courteous; he tried to make a good impression. But somehow someway it often seemed to go wrong, though it did not help that his peers were a bunch of rich kids who tended to be overly sensitive, at least in Damian’s eyes. It did not help that Damian was self admittedly a little… Overly blunt and honest not to mention how sensitive he was about girls flirting with him, he knew he’d not fully recovered from the Vipers poison and so even now 3 years after she was gone he was on high alert constantly on the lookout for lies and manipulation. And this… alertness of his had led to again more then a few terrible first impressions.

To put it simply, Damian was aware that whenever a new student was joining the school bets were made on how fast Damian Wayne would manage to offend them. So when the teacher announced that come next Monday a new student would be joining the class a young girl all the way from France no less a ripple of excitement went through the class as once more bets were being made. This time however Damian Wayne was determined to make them all lose. He would be polite, and courteous he would not snap, not say anything un-intentionally mean, he would be normal, he would simply ignore the new girl and all would be well.

Which is why of course his Teachers asked him to give the new girl the school tour. He was one of the few who spoke French and they were unsure how good the girl's English was so they wanted to play it safe and coincidentally all the other students who could speak French just so happened to be too busy to help the new student. Damian seethed he knew it was a lie, they just wanted to force him to interact with her for their little bets. Fine then! A Wayne is not so easily defeated. He would be a perfect gentleman, he would not offend the girl, it would be fine. He would prove to himself and everyone else that Damian Wayne might be the Ice Prince of Gotham but he was no brute. Bring it on Monday Damian Wayne was ready to meet the new girl.

( Thank you again for all the patience and support! I tend to update slowly due to well... The need to keep food on the table and my finances have been especially tight lately so I was struggling but things are getting better now so hopefully I can write more often in the near future. This first chapter was more to establish some stuff I know its a little short but it felt good to get back into this fic with something a little neater sweeter and smaller. Hopefully I have more up soon! )

[ Wanna Support Me? Donate HERE! ]

[ Wanna Read More? Masterlist HERE! ]

#daminette #maribat #my fic #Marinette deserves better #BAMF Marinette #lila salt #Changing Faces Fic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanfiction #class redemption

112 notes · View notes

srtatropicalia · 10 months ago

Text

So, I've been holding onto this for a while. And I just had to let it out because I haven't really seen someone with this take yet (but if there is, PLEASE point me out to them!!). People's reaction to Din's name order reveal in that last episode baffled me a lot, because the fans didn't seems to like it all that much (and some seemed to outright hate it). But I actually LOVED IT and I think it brings out some of the themes of identity and what it means for Din in particular and for his covert in general.

Right out of the gate I will say: I don't really think that this was planned from the beginning. Yes, I think that most probably Din's name started as Din and and his surname Djarin, until someone somewhere had the idea to change it up for that last episode. Though I wouldn't put it past the producers to have had that idea from the begining, as there are some pretty involved individuals on the creative team that like to make lore that never makes it to Canon.

But, though I don't think it was planned from the beginning, I don't think that this reveal (and I will call it a reveal, because I think it was meant to be one) loses all that much by not being planned from season one. Ideas progress, and I don't doubt that they were doing it a season at a time, finding new ways to explore Din's identity when confronted with the various occurrences throughout the episodes.

Having said that, I will explain why I think it's genius. And I totally understand if people don't necessarily agree.

Din's anonymity is a big part of his character, and I always loved how the show did its best to first: actively hide his face and name; and second: when revealed, do its best to not remind us of his face and name or use it unnecessarily.

I don't really need to explain that first part, you guys saw the show. We don't know his name until almost the end of season one, and that is the same for his face. His face is only shown when we have confirmation that a sentient (if you consider a Droid a sentient, BECAUSE I DO) sees his face. That is a big step and this reveal will mark Din because this is a first step on the big list of technicalities in which he "breaks" his code. The second being when he wears the imperial soldier helmet.

Every moment he breaks his rule of anonymity, there's weight.

But the second part is the one I'm gonna focus on: the show actively tries to not remind us of his identity. Even after the reveal of the face, we don't get free scenes of him alone without his helmet. Though I will admit that the show uses his name casually a lot, I will also point out that is kinda hard to not use it when he's with other mandalorians (how to distinguish that the Armorer is speaking about him or about Paz in scenes? Etc). And I will forgive when people that are not mandalorian use his name after they learn it. (Like that scene in BOBF when Fennec just announces to a group of mercenaries his name). But the fact that people seem weirded out by Fennec announcing his name like that is proof of how they don't use it unless necessary. I even had a friend point out to me that in the subtitles (at least for S2, dont remenber for S3) they chose to use [The Mandalorian] instead of [Din Djarin] when hes talking offscreen. Even the spelling was very uncertain in the begining, you can still find posts and fanfics written with "Dyn Jarreen" or other variants.

Though his helmet and his belief in wearing it continue to be a big part of his identity and faith/creed, I think that the need for anonymity in the form of not revealing his name is eroded slowly throughout the series. He opens up more, makes friends and allies, and recognizes Grogu as family. And, progressively, his friends get to know him and use his name (or not!). This last step, of recognizing Grogu as family, is fundamental to me. Lastly, the mandalorians don't need to be anonymous for survival anymore: they can profess their culture, identity and creed under the sun, not hidden. And that's why I love it, because one last barrier that the series has given us is eroded IN the scene that Mandalore has ressurged as a unified nation and Grogu is adopted. In that scene, they reveal to us that Din's his surname and Djarin is the personal name. We get the meaning behind the words that we've been using to call him all this time, and that changes everything!! We didn't really know him because he was not in a position to be safely known. Now he is. He is ready to have his clan and it's not Clan Djarin, it's Clan Din!!

On a sidenote, I don't think that his friends knew the order. The only confirmation we have is that the Armourer knew, though maybe not long before the ceremony. So the weirdness of having Bo-katan call him by his "first name" and Cara call him by his family name is kinda part of it. He didn't open himself up until that last moment.

TLDR: The reveal of Din Djarin's personal name and family name is a last barrier that the series erodes to us, in a three season progression of slowly but surely revealing The Mandalorian's identity; progression which goes hand in hand with his character arc and the revival of Mandalore, that makes it possible for Mandalorians not to live in anonymity anymore.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din grogu #grogu djarin #grogu #mandalore #the armorer #the book of boba fett #fennec shand #bo katan kryze #meta #the mandalorian meta #analysis #character analysis #star wars #mandalorian season 3

17 notes · View notes

nectaric · 2 years ago

Text

— basics.

▸ is your muse tall / short / average ?

hades is 6'3 so he's definitely quite tall!

▸ are they okay with their height ?

i think hades n hera were the same height for quite some time and hades was insecure about that, but as he came into his own he became a lot taller and he's more than pleased.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair / grooming ?

hades is quite particular about his appearance, and while i wouldn't say he puts a ton of effort in, he is very insistent on showering regularly, and smelling good / looking put together. it doesn't take him long to do his hair or put himself together, but he will make sure he is put together.

▸ does your muse care about their appearance / what others think ?

yes, absolutely. for a long time, his appearance was the one thing he could change to make his issues seem less dramatic. if he spent some time making sure there wasn't a hair out of place or that his clothes were freshly pressed, then it would be easier to hide how much he was struggling. prim and proper hades was a cover-up for i'm an alcoholic with cripping anxiety hades. as he's gotten sober, hades has taken less of an interest in his appearance. he hasn't let go, necessarily, but he allows himself to dress in a way that's comfortable and not just in a way that's presentable.

— preferences.

▸ indoors or outdoors ? indoors.

▸ rain or sunshine ? sunshine.

▸ forest or beach ? forest.

▸ precious metals or gems ? gems.

▸ flowers or perfumes ? flowers.

▸ personality or appearance ? personality.

▸ being alone or being in a crowd ? being alone.

▸ order or anarchy ? order.

▸ painful truths or white lies ? painful truths.

▸ science or magic ? magic.

▸ peace or conflict ? peace.

▸ night or day ? night.

▸ dusk or dawn ? dawn.

▸ warmth or cold ? warmth.

▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends ? a few close friends.

▸ reading or playing a game ? reading.

— questionnaire.

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits ?

there are simple answers, and there are complicated answers. hades has engaged in a lot of s/elf har/m in his life, which includes his drinking and drug use. but these are habits he has been able to curb / found healthier outlets for. other bad habits include isolation when he's feeling overwhelmed, smoking cigarettes, driving too fast (lmao), and self-doubt of all kinds.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them ? how has it affected them ?

the death of his son completely changed the trajectory of hades' life and his ability to function in life. he struggled with very poor mental health, closed himself off to his other children, and made him turn to really poor coping mechanisms that incapacitated him for centuries. he didn't know how to grieve, almost wouldn't let himself really grieve, and it took a serious toll on his life and the lives of those who mattered most to him.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has ?

there are so many moments from when his children were growing up that hades looks on with so much fondness. those years were some of the best of his life! there were also moments, in the early days after the titanomachy where he and his siblings were free and still close that hades remembers with so much love.

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill ?

i don't think its necessarily easy for hades to do, but it is such a muscle memory thing that he's able to do it without much hesitation. he's not ever thrilled at the thought of doing it, but he will do it if necessary. he's not particularly violent in the way some other gods are, so he does try to avoid it if possible.

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down ?

panic attacks, drinking, self harm, isolation, self-loathing, bitterness, angst angst angst. he's always on the verge of a breakdown it seems lmao, but he's got some pretty unhealthy coping mechanisms and when he falls apart its catastrophic, even if its not something that anyone else can see. he takes it all out on himself, and becomes a bit of a wreck. but he's working on being better <3

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life ?

very few people, but yes. he would trust any of his children, his wife, or his siblings with his life. he would trust someone like thanatos. but i think hades is the kind of person who would do everything in his power not to put anyone in that situation. he will be responsible for his own life, damn it.

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love ?

lowkey kinda stupid, ngl. hades is a very logical, intelligent person, and while he cares deeply about people he doesn't feel love very often / experience it very strongly until it hits him like a train. he becomes more irrational, willing to do anything for the person he cares for. he's not very affectionate physically or with words, but he will shower the person he loves in gifts and attention of any kind. he's willing to sink to levels he wouldn't normally because his ability to reason is just. always skewed lmao

#hades.#I LOVE HIM AHHH #self harm /#alcoholism /#death /

2 notes · View notes

yzafre · 1 year ago

Text

when I'm lost in the storm (and I'm calling) | Ch11

AO3

First | Previous

The world snapped back into focus with no warning, three planes merging together with a sharp pop. Riku’s vision swam for half a second before returning to clarity.

“Kairi!”

“Riku!”

Mickey, Sora, and Axel were where they’d last been, the two awake members of the party standing back-to-back in a defensive position, each reaching for the newly emerged Flight-members. Kairi was closer to them than Riku himself was – he’d drifted across the battlefield while fighting Xehanort, now standing closer to the circle of chairs than the center – and she wavered, face pale and a body slumped at her feet.

“No!” Xigbar called, “You couldn’t have – how did you - ?”

A low chuckle cut him off, and all heads turned to the highest throne, where the Darkness finally coalesced into a body.

Master Xehanort had returned.

“What a welcome,” he said, “It was foreseen that my selves from across the timeline would come together to bring about my return – but the future lies beyond my sight. And this first we step we have taken is unexpected, indeed.”

“Master Xehanort!” Mickey called, and Riku – Riku had never seen such rage – no, such hate on his face, “Why are you doing this?”

“In ancient times, people believed that light was gift from the unseen Kingdom hearts; but it was safeguarded by its counterpart, the Chi-blade. Warriors vied for that precious light, and in the resultant clash the Chi-blade was shattered into twenty pieces – seven of Light, and thirteen of Darkness. And thus, the true Kingdom Hearts was lost forever,” Xehanort hummed thoughtfully, “I once tried to create my own pure Light and Darkness to forge the Chi-blade, but the attempt ended… poorly. In my eagerness I became… hasty. I acted rashly, I can admit that now.”

Mickey growled, ears bristling, “Rashly? What you did back then – your mistakes – changed the destinies of my friends!”

Master Xehanort smirked, tipping his cheek into his palm, “Ah, but Destiny is never left to chance. The broken boy who failed to be the blade, the misguided master who sacrificed herself for fear, and the feckless youth who became my new vessel: all were necessary on my path to this great day.”

“I could never find a way to save them, but I at least wanted to believe their sacrifice stopped you for good. But this – “ Mickey cut off, frustrated, “I should’ve seen it, as soon as Maleficent started gathering the seven princesses of heart – that knowledge was beyond her.”

“Yes, my doing, a gift to my future. One half of myself followed her in her search for the pure lights, as the other gathered vessels.”

“But both attempts failed,” Riku cut in, unwilling to let these two go on any longer, “Sora stopped you both times.”

“Yes,” Xehanort said, “That dull, ordinary boy – yet a Keyblade Wielder unlike any I have ever seen. However, I have not abandoned my ambitions.”

“What makes you think we won’t just stop you again?” Riku challenged.

“Oh, but I’m counting on your attempt. Twenty pieces – seven of Light, thirteen of Darkness. And so, I will gather thirteen Vessels to fill with Darkness, to fight seven guardians of light.”

“No,” Mickey gasped, and ice slithered down Riku’s spine as he took in the thrones surrounding them in new light, “But, the seven Lights – myself, Riku, Sora, and Kairi. That’s four… then, my missing friends is seven!”

“Will they, now?” Xehanort said, “Your count is a bit off, though indeed you are falling behind. You had better hurry and catch up. For now – I believe I must take back what’s mine.”

Riku growled, Key flashing to hand, “You’re not getting Sora!”

“Try, if you think you can stop me.”

The Organization began to shift, hanging on the verge of attacking, waiting for the order.

“Mickey!” Riku muttered, scooting closer, “Do you have a way out? With four of us, can we fight our way free?”

“You might want to make that three and-a-half,” Axel said, and a glance showed him hefting Sora up over a shoulder, one arm keeping him in place as he, “I’m kind of working with limited mobility, here.”

“We can’t forget this!” Kairi called, breathless. She was dragging the empty body up to lean against her, and at this angle Riku could see the blank white face beneath the hood, the way it slumped, empty, like a doll.

“Give me a moment,” Mickey said, “I’m working on it!”

But there was no time – the Organization lunged, the battle beginning once more.

Riku tried to reach Sora and Axel, but was quickly cut off by a sharp lance slamming into the ground at his feet. In gaps between attacks, he could barely make out what was happening in the room. He and Mickey seemed to be the biggest focus, each of them having at least two on them at any given time. Axel could be seen dodging, Sora’s head flopping around over his shoulder – be careful with him! – and Kairi was struggling to hoist the other body as she scrambled around the field.

Riku had just flung one Organization member away when there was a yelp and a crash, Kairi’s heart spiking with panic, and he wanted to look, to make sure she was okay, but then there was the barrel of a gun in his face and he had to leap backwards to get away, and –

They were getting overwhelmed. If something didn’t happen soon, they were going to lose completely. They’d likely be left alive, Xehanort needed them for his plans, but Sora would be –

Please, we need a miracle!

As if in answer to his please, a comet crashed down from above, bowling through the crowd of Organization members and sending them flying.

In the center of it all, Goofy and Donald were picking themselves up from the floor in a daze.

“We made it!” Donald declared, one finger in the air – the effect of which was ruined by the way he tripped over his feet, nearly falling if Mickey hadn’t rushed forward to catch him.

“Uh, is this a bad time?” Goofy asked, peering around at the Organization members quickly getting to their feet.

“No, you saved us! Everyone, over here!”

It turned into a mad scramble – several Organization members tried to get in their way, but with a defined goal they could coordinate better.

“Axel, the body!” Kairi called over the din.

“Got it!” Axel yelled, “Catch!”

There was a blur, Riku’s heart skipping as Sora’s body flew through the air. Donald and Goofy squawked, but leapt, catching him and crashing back to the ground.

Axel sped away towards the abandoned body, and Riku kept half an eye on him while he rushed to Kairi’s side, blocking an attack in her blind spot. Axel got within inches of the body before being cut off. He snarled, going on the attack, exchanging a flurry of blows until the hood fell off the Organization members, revealing blue hair and pale-yellow eyes. Riku thought he remembered him, vaguely – wasn’t this the Nobody that killed Axel, before?

Beside him, Kairi hissed.

“Cover me.”

Riku snapped his attention back to her.

“Kairi, what – “

“I’ve got an idea, but I need the way clear. Can you do that?”

His stomach swam with unease, but he nodded all the same.

“Of course.”

She grinned back, wings snapping from her spine to take to the sky. Riku quickly took off after her. Up here, the biggest threat – and the reason they hadn’t just flow away before – was –

There, the high-pitched whine of the gun. Riku spun into the attack, bringing his Key up to block the bolt of energy, meeting eyes with Xigbar across the room. The man smirked, then disappeared, and the game was on.

They went back and forth, like a game of keep-away, Riku scrambling to block Xigbar’s line-of-sight as he teleported around the room, hanging from nothingness. From above, he could see the whole room – Donald and Goofy standing guard over Sora, Mickey dancing desperately around them to keep the crowd at bay, Axel trying to get past the Organization member standing sentinel between him and the body, the other Organization members, creeping closer to collect it.

Behind him, Kairi came to a stop, wound up, and –

She threw her Key, straight down. It spun through the air, heading – straight for the blue-haired Nobody, he realized. He could hear her, less a whisper and more a desperate wish that pulsed down their bond – please work!

She glowed, then vanished. A streak of light cascaded downward, trailing after her Key as it fell, fell, fell, blew past the blue-haired Nobody as he tilted to the side, the light catching up with it just in time to –

She reappeared, Key in hand, a bright ball of light forming at the tip. The blue-haired Organization member began to turn, but not fast enough – the magic discharged directly in his face.

“Axel, now!”

Axel didn’t need any more urging, and dove past while his opponent was staggering, scooping up the body just before the last Organization member could reclaim it. As soon as it was in his arm, he spread his wings to fly back towards Mickey, Kairi hot on his heels. Riku spiraled down after them, landing heavily beside the King.

“That’s everyone, right?” Mickey called, “Good, let’s go!”

The King held up a shard of glass, which began to glow brightly. Then, it flashed, blinding them all, and they were hurtling through space.

Sora wouldn’t wake.

When they reached the top of the tower, Goofy settled him carefully against the wall, quickly stepping back to let his Flight come closer. Riku and Kairi kneeled on either side of Sora, both unable to move far from him. Their eyes met across his lap, hearts aching together in fear-grief-can’t lose him, holding tighter to each other in face of the silence of their third.

Something seemed to catch Kairi’s gaze and she turned away, reaching out – something must have fallen out of Sora’s pocket, he realized. She brought it up, the amber glass of a Wayfinder glinting in the starlight from the window, and her face crumpled.

He reached out before he thought about it, hand curling around her shoulder, feeling her warmth lean in as she turned to look at him with watery, desperate eyes.

We have to save him, her heart cried.

We will, his assured.

First, they had to get through their report of what had happen to Yen Sid before the old man could make a proper diagnosis of Sora’s situation – and what could be done.

“You woke the sleeping Keyholes in Sora’s dream,” he said, “It stands to reasons that you should now have the power to awaken Sora’s heart.”

“You want him to – “ Mickey sputtered, “But Master, Sora’s heart is trapped in the Abyss. If he’s not careful, Riku could be lost, too. No, I should go."

“You may even succeed if you were to go, Mickey,” Yen Sid said, “But it remains that Riku, having dived into Sora’s heart for so long, stands the best chance.”

“If that’s the reason,” Kairi started, pausing as they all turned to face her, before shaking her head to continue, “Considering we’re both connected to his heart, I would think the person who’s actually brought Sora back before would have the best chance. Which means I should be the one going.”

“You think you can defend yourself against the Dark places? You have not completed your training, and certainly haven’t faced the challenges Riku has overcome,” Yen Sid said.

“Obviously, I shouldn’t go on my own. But, I thought… Riku and I should go together.”

“Kairi,” Riku hesitated, unsure, “This is… different. Maybe you should just leave it to me.”

“You two just went off without me, and you immediately went and got yourself lost,” she scoffed, and Riku pulled back, stung.

Kairi rolled her shoulders, glancing away, before she straightened her spine, tossing her hair, “Not that’s it’s a surprise. You two may have fought over being captain, but you were terrible navigators. That was always my job.”

When she looked back at him, there was a smile tugging at her lips but fear in her eyes, papered over with stalwart determination. The idea of it made his stomach turn – Kairi, going into this Dark place. Kairi, in danger. It flooded him with a strangling fear, made him want to scream and claw and deny.

He took a deep breath, held it, let it all out. Reached for her hand.

“Okay. Together.”

Falling into Sora’s heart was darker than Kairi expected.

She wasn’t sure why, really. They’d said that Sora had fallen into an abyss, but somehow, she’d still expected to see the light she’d felt from him since the moment they’d met. Instead, there was a void in every direction, the air getting thicker the father they went.

She reached for him, but other than a faint rippling of the horizon, there was no response.

“There,” Riku whispered, tugging her forward by the hand. His other pointed down, where a pinprick of light flickered in the Dark. She nodded, squeezing his hand back, and they dove.

The light seemed to dim the closer they got. Instead, a pulsing mass below became apparent – like waves, shifting and undulating. They paused over the surface of the waters, both unsure of the tides below.

“I suppose… we just have to dive in and look for him.”

Riku let go, preparing himself, but something distracted Kairi, just on the edge of her senses.

“Wait,” she said, turning and looking to the side. The light that had guided them here – it was still there. Faint, and fading further, but –

In her pocket, something warmed. Reaching in, her fingers found smooth glass, the edges of the Wayfinder Sora had once shown her. When she pulled it out, the misty light became brighter, condensing and drifting closer like a firefly to settle over the charm in her palm. She cupped her free hand around it, the energy buzzing against her fingertips. There was Light, here, the weight of memories, but… there should be more.

A presence in her heart stirred.

I see; this is a heart, Naminé whispered, watching through her eyes, But its sleeping, all its pieces faded to the depths. I’ve worked on a heart like this, once before. But perhaps…

Something surged in Kairi’s heart, a pulse of her power, and Naminé hummed, My power is an off-shoot of your own – they work differently, but they can both restore what once was. It’s not quite the same, but… watch, like this.

Phantom hands rested over her own, showing how to gather the pieces up, feel what’s the same, what belongs, and restore them to their original state. She understood, quickly, the ghost of a touch fading away as she took over with a faint memory of –

Hold him close gather him close bring him back to me –

And –

I see you, I know you, I remember what you are now it’s your turn –

and something new. Something just a bit different, but just as natural, a spark of will and the taste of the Keyblade.

Light began dripping upwards from the pit of darkness below, slowly at first, but then faster, coalescing around the heart. It slowly formed into a body, limbs spreading out from the torso, details of the face filling in, spokes of light coalescing into a wild head of hair.

A blonde boy stared back at her with shock, the ghost of white wings fluttering behind him.

Beside her, she heard Riku give a sharp hiss, but she couldn’t look away.

“Hello,” she said, the Light inside her rising excitedly.

“Hello,” he replied, an awed smile growing on his face, “You’re… Kairi, and Riku, right?”

“Yes, but – how did you know?”

He smiled, soft and a bit wry, but also warm, “I’ve been with Sora for a long time – he cares a lot about you two.”

“Who are you?” Riku asked, “You’re… not Roxas. You’re the boy from the picture, the one Naminé gave me. The one with the blue-haired girl, and that other guy.”

“Aqua, Terra,” the boy breathed, “Yes, they’re my Flight. I’m Ventus – call me Ven.”

“Ven,” Kairi echoed, “What are you doing here?”

He paused, twisting down to look at the shifting Darkness below, “I wanted to make sure whoever came after Sora would be able to find him. So, I did what I could to protect him, and then I waited here, to mark where he went under. And it worked, didn’t it? You two are here.”

Riku drifted forward, “Here? Sora’s right under here?”

Ven nodded, “Yeah. We all did our best, but… I think you two will be the ones to wake him up. Riku, you got so close before, and Kairi – you have enough Light to banish the Darkness. To shape it. Between the two of you, I’m sure you can do it.”

Kairi looked down at the swirling mass below – it was so much.

“You think I can do it?” she wondered.

Ven took her hand, and she looked up to that warm grin – so much like Sora – as Light sparked against her palm, her own swelling in answer.

“I’m sure of it,” he said, then hesitated, glancing away pensively before looking back up at them, “But, before you go save him… could you do me a favor?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Do you think… you could wake me up? I think I’ve been sleeping long enough.”

“You mean, the power of waking?” Riku said, “I learned it, but without a connection like I have with Sora, I’m not sure I can…”

“Not you, her,” he said, and turned to Kairi.

“Me?” she asked, “But – I don’t know how to do that.”

“Of course, you do. You already started,” he encouraged, “I was almost asleep again, but you woke me up. Now, you just have to go a little farther – don’t worry, I’ll help as much as I can.”

“But, what about your body? Do you know where it is?” Riku asked, “How will you find your way back? What if you get lost on the way?”

Ven smiled, bright, reaching out to bring Kairi’s hand up – where she was still holding the Wayfinder, “Don’t worry; someone’s already made sure I can always find my way home.”

He curled his hands around hers, staring at her with such hope – she was terrified, but how could she say no?

“Okay.”

His face shone like the sun. He drifted closer, and she could feel all his Light rising to greet hers, tangling together at the edges.

“Alright, let’s do this – I promise, you can do it. Whatever you were doing before, just start like that.”

What she was doing before…

Kaire closed her eyes and pulled it all back to her, that feeling of – gather together – this is who you are – my power my will – and his hand felt just that bit more solid beneath hers. His Light quickly joined hers, threading alongside, adding definition to her demand for identity, memory to her will, and more Light began to rise from the waters, slowly coalescing into a transparent glass circle, covered images.

Eventually, it all came together – a complete heart, and yet there was something, some sort of barrier in their way. She pressed against it, feeling for any cracks, any way to break through – how did she get him out?

“Now, your Keyblade,” the boy said, and she let it fall into her hand. It warmed eagerly, guiding her hand up, sparking to life with a burst of magic that was answered by a bloom of light she could see even behind her eyes.

She opened her eyes, finding a Keyhole glowing on the surface of the disc, pulsing in time with the mass of magic at the end of her Key.

“And now,” he said, “the connection.”

He reached out, touching the Wayfinder in her other hand, and suddenly her heart caught on memories not her own – late nights and bright eyes and dreams whispered in the dark, and –

The Wayfinder began to glow, a bright amber in the dark, and in echo, a green light began to gleam in the void above them, bright as the north star.

“A light,” the boy said, “To guide my way home. An unbreakable connection. Kairi, thank you.”

“Of course.”

The station began glowing, spinning in place before bursting into a spray of lights, a cloud that rushed up and past them into the void above, towards that distant, glowing star.

And Ventus was gone.

Kairi turned away from the void above to find Riku staring at her, an inscrutable look on his face. Clearing her throat, she tilted her chin up, offering her hand.

“Well? Shall we go?”

He watched her a moment longer before taking her hand.

“Yeah. Sora’s waiting.”

The plunge into the Darkness sent a shock through Kairi’s system. It was somehow both icy cold and humid, sticky and cloying and all-consuming, pressing in on all sides. She held tighter to Riku’s hand as they dove even deeper, the currents doing their best to toss them aside.

Eventually, they reached some kind of bottom, gravity abruptly asserting itself, their feet settling in a second layer of shallow waters.

“There’s no where else to go,” Riku muttered, “Then where….”

He let go of her hand – slowly, lingeringly, like he was afraid to be apart – and paced away, circling outwards. Kairi moved to follow after him, but paused, frowning at the ground below him.

The waters moved like the ocean, clinging to her as she moved, but the sensation didn’t feel quite right. Crouching, she plunged her hands into the black, feeling for the bottom they were standing on.

Smooth – perfectly, unnaturally smooth. Smooth like glass.

She lifted her hands, watching the black drip from her fingers – slowly, too slowly, clinging greedily like sludge. It looked like water, but that’s not what it was, was it?

Light to push back the Darkness…. To shape it.

Holding her palms out above the surface, she let magic spread through her, pooling in her hands – no spell, just gathering, growing. Beneath the slowly amassing Light, the black began to churn in agitation.

“Riku!” she called, even as a drop of Light dripped down, landing in the waters and pushing them back, like oil and water. Hurried footsteps rushed over, splashing in the water, before he was kneeling at her back, one hand on her shoulder as he looked down at the mixing of Light and Dark.

“There’s something under there,” she said, “I think it might be the Key to finding Sora, if I could just make this bigger.”

She felt his nod, connected as they were.

“Earlier, it was like you were pulling the Light in – maybe now you can push out. Like – “ he cut off, instead shifting to their bond, gathering and shaping his magic then holding it just at the edge of release, keeping it in place to demonstrate. Offensive, pressing, moving outwards.

Kairi hummed in acknowledgment, brow furrowing as she tried to mimic the shape, landed somewhere between Riku’s demonstration and one of the Fire spells she’d been working on back in Radiant Garden. The Light magic fizzled and popped, cutting through the waters, burning all it touched – but as it moved, more Darkness simply filled in behind it.

“That’s not going to work, maybe if we – “ She brought to mind the Reflect magic she’d learned, transitioned on to the circling barrier of flames Axel had shown her, one that lingered for longer, more consistently, and Riku’s. It could let her burn the Darkness away while holding the ground she’d gained, she’d never quite been able to –

Show me, Riku nudged, and she nodded, bringing her Light together then pressing it out. It went out a little ways, the Darkness shrinking back with it, and she pulled it up, creating a wall just as she’d learned, but then when she tried to hold it the whole thing trembled, then shattered, splintering outwards and letting the waters rush back in.

Realization rushed through Riku, and he showed her – magic likes to move, it must – a flicker of memory, the King trying to explain the theory behind Stop, his mind bending under the abstract – amusement-sympathy – embarrassment-dismissal. Then, she thought, instead of freezing, instead a cycle, out and in and looping back?

She pressed her magic out, watched it go, but it was still so much to take out of her at once, but then she thought – waves.

Waves-not following-idea? Riku sent, and she grinned, Watch me.

She lowered her output, letting a little power roll out in a thin wave, then another, then another, and then the first was rolling back in, but no ground was lost because there was another following just behind. Yes-working-you’re wonderful, Riku felt, delight-proud-smug rippling out from her, to be chased by his own amusement-exasperation-proud.

Again, again she sent the waves, rolling the Darkness slowly back. Below, the receding waters revealed a glass floor, bright and shining.

Behind her, Riku’s attention snapped away.

Still tangled together, she felt the lightning strike of danger-threat-defend-need me?, brushing back against him with trust-confidence and a push of go.

His hand dropped from her shoulder, his presence separating from her own so he could focus on whatever threat had emerged from the Dark.

She forced herself not to look away, not to remove her focus from pushing back the Darkness, no matter what she heard. Riku was strong, she knew it, and all this would be for nothing if she couldn’t uncover Sora’s heart. Even when she felt the Darkness bearing down on her, closer and closer, her heart beating fast, she refused to look away.

And in answer to her trust, Riku was there to defend her.

She could feel his rage, his snarl rumbling down their bond, the red-hot spike exploding out before crystalizing into ice-cold determination. And still, she continued to release her Light in waves.

When the world suddenly went still, the light below them almost completely revealed, she felt Riku hesitate, torn, heart an alternating chant of Sora-Kairi-Sora-Kairi.

“Go,” she called, “I’ve got this – go find our Third.”

“Alright,” he said, heart following up with back soon-be safe-love you.

She heard a ripple of magic, felt the warping of the void around them, and turned her attention once more to her task.

Her Flight was counting on her.

Waves lapped gently on the shore, a soft, familiar roar, fading in and out. It was accompanied by a gentle breeze, sending his bangs fluttering, ticking his skin.

Riku slowly blinked his eyes open, grunting as the ache of all his muscles slowly settled into his bones. The world was dimly lit, only a pale strip of almost-light glowing on the horizon. The sky above was obscured by a thin haze of clouds, orbiting around a single darker strip that almost reminded him of a scar.

With a final sigh, he forced his stiff muscles to move, pushing to his feet and glancing around. This was…. Destiny Islands? How did he…

Sora!

Adrenaline shooting through him, he focused, taking in the area more caerfully – the sand, the sky, the ocean filled with floating, sparkling lights. The last thing he remembered was the Darkness draining away from the nightmare to reveal Sora falling back, disappearing into his Station, diving after him…

Was this another part of Sora’s dreams? His heart?

Frowning, he took another look around the beach – the raised platform with their sitting-tree was a good vantage point, but maybe if he climbed –

A soft noise caught his attention.

He paused, straining his ears in the direction he thought he’d heard it, and – there it was again. A soft hiccup, then a sob, caught between gasping breaths. It took a moment, but eventually his eyes caught on a shadow in the midst of the water, and a few more blinks brought it into focus.

There was a person on their knees, up to their waist in the surf, scattered lights bobbing around them. Now that Riku had identified the sound, their crying became immediately clear.

Sora?

Heart in his throat, Riku hopped down from the bridge, rushing across the beach.

The figure didn’t react as he crashed through the surf, kneeling at their side. Up close, the shadow resolved into a figure wearing an Organization cloak. Roxas, was his first thought, but the shape of their face peeking out below the hood wasn’t right. No, he realized, this was the girl who had approached him in the dream of Monstro.

“Hey,” he murmured, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder, “Are you okay?”

No answer – just a whimper, and a continuous line of tears dripping down her face from beneath her hood.

“She won’t answer.”

Riku froze, turning on his heel. Naminé sat on the beach behind him, a strange shimmering shape resting in her lap.

“She’s not really awake, right now; but then, I don’t think she can go back to sleep, either.”

Swallowing, Riku pulled away from the girl, trudging back up onto the beach towards Naminé. As he drew closer, sand crunching beneath his feet, he began to see that the shimmer spread out in the outline of a body, head laying her lap, features flickering in and out of existence.

“Naminé,” he said, kneeling down in front of her, “How are you here?”

“I’m not – not really,” she said, “I’m just an imprint, a memory of a moment in time, left behind to carry a message.”

“A message… for who? And why here?”

She paused, blinking slowly as she ran her fingers through the hair of the body in her lap – the solid part of his body had shifted to the body’s face, now, and he was startled to see his own features, soft in sleep. How was he – but no, he realized, if Naminé was involved, then this must be…

The Replica.

Naminé noticed his realization and smiled sadly.

“While we were working on putting Sora’s memory back together, DiZ took it upon himself to hide some of his research in Sora’s heart.”

Naminé reached behind her, pulling out a bottled message that she handed off to Riku. He held it up – light glinted off the glass, streaks of red and orange, but he could make out small hand-written text crammed onto the pages.

“He was going to leave behind an echo of himself to guard the data, and to pass it on when the time came,” Naminé continued, ”But I… I couldn’t let any part of him touch this place. Not if I wanted…”

She trailed off, staring down at the flickering, patchwork image of the Replica in her lap.

Behind them, the girl in the surf choked on a sob. Riku’s heart ached in sympathy.

“Who is she?”

Naminé’s gaze snapped up to him, an edge of horror in her eyes, “You don’t remember her?”

“No. I think – I may have seen her earlier, that she brought me a warning. But I don’t recognize her.”

“Then that means I failed,” Naminé said, tipping her head down as she softly stroked the Replica’s hair. After a moment, she sighed and spoke up again, “The Organization, they weren’t just content with Roxas. They wanted more, a back-up. So, they made a Replica, one made to pull Sora’s memories away. But, instead of just becoming a copy, she used those memories to make her own person, with her own bonds. The problem was, the memories she had, Sora couldn’t wake without them, and to get them back…”

She trailed off, and that aching pang was back. He had a horrible feeling he knew where this was going.

Namine began again, “When I first started working on Sora, it was hard, but it was very clear where his memories ended, and the ones I created began. It wasn’t like that with her. Her memories, his memories, they were so intertwined - even if I could manage to separate them, it would take too long. DiZ wouldn’t have allowed it. And…”

She trailed off, brushing the hair from the Replica’s face, before cupping her hands around him. His patch-work form flickered out, and instead there were two crystalline, floating gem fragments, half-fused together. The clouds shifted, and bright yellow light glinted off the facets.

“She was carrying a piece of Hitoshi’s heart,” Naminé whispered, “When you defeated him, Hitoshi’s heart broke into pieces, scattered. I’ve tried to gather them, but I don’t know how to put him together again. I could carry him, maybe, but healing? My power lies in memories, not hearts. But Sora…”

“Sora heals everything he touches,” Riku finished, “He could fix it. And if she returned to Sora…”

“Then the piece of Hitoshi’s heart would, too,” Naminé finished miserably, “I had a plan, though. It wasn’t supposed to be forever. The Organization made her body to absorb Sora’s power. If I gave her a new body, one with a different anchor, one that would only take what’s hers, then connected it to Sora – it would take time, but she could come back. But if you don’t remember her, then that means I failed. And now…”

They both looked to the side as another keening sob echoed down the beach.

“Riku,” she said, “I don’t know what’s happened, since I left this imprint behind – I don’t know what happened to me, or how far I got with her, or with Hitoshi. And, now that the message is delivered, even this imprint is going to fade. But... I know I don’t really have the right to ask this of you, not when all this is my fault, but… when you leave here, can you try and find them for me?”

“I’ll help them,” Riku said, “And I’m sure my Flight will, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if Kairi knew a bit of this, and you know Sora will help anyone. And the truth is, when I look at her… I feel like there’s something I need to repay her for. But for right now… I need to make sure Sora wakes up.”

“Wakes up? Naminé echoed, then smiled, knowing and amused, “Riku, Sora will be fine. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Noticed what?”

She pointed out across the ocean, to the line of the horizon, where the sky was painted with radiant hues of yellow and orange and pink.

“The sun is rising. The night is over.”

Sora woke up first, Kairi gasping awake right after to him.

Sora woke first, but Kairi moved faster. She nearly tackled Sora to the floor before he even made it upright, and Axel could feel the magic pouring off her all the way across the room. She didn’t let him back up, either.

“Alright,” Axel said, crossing the room in a few quick strides, pulling out a chair then reaching down to tap her on the shoulder, “Why don’t we let the guy breathe, yeah? Don’t want him passing out again when he just woke up.”

Kairi nodded into Sora’s shoulder, then took a deep, shuddering breath before pulling back, scrubbing at her face. Sora blinked up at him, confusion painted across his face. Axel stared back, focused, and he saw the moment a memory seemed to strike Sora, a realization, the quick play of fear-loss-guilt across his face before his gaze darted away, flickering anywhere other than Axel.

Axel’s heart sunk.

As Donald and Goofy pushed past him, hovering nervously over their kid, Axel stepped back, letting the chaos go on without him.

It’s not like he didn’t know. He’d known, ever sense he heard that scream, felt the change in his heart.

He knew, but still…

He’d hoped.

He stayed long enough for Riku to wake up, for Yen Sid to name the kid Master, then slipped silently out the door as his Flight began congratulating him. It might be a bit rude, but really, Kairi was the only one that might miss him, and right now he just…

He just couldn’t.

Outside, he stopped just beyond the door, staring for one moment at the vast spray of stars painted across the sky around them before collapsing heavily to the stairs, head in his hands. He hadn’t let himself think about it. He’d had a job to do, and Kairi needed him, so he couldn’t think about it, but now, in the silence, it was all consuming.

The emptiness in his chest.

That scream.

He knew. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, but he knew from the moment it happened.

Roxas was gone.

His breath choked, then spilled out in a gasp, an almost-sob, and his hands slipped up to bury in his hair, tugging sharply. Forcing his breath to even out, he closed his eyes, slowly slipping inside himself.

All those theory lessons and meditating hadn’t given him a Keyblade, but they had made him more aware of his heart - and his bonds, with it. It still took him a minute, but he was able to fall into that in-between place, the place where he could see those twin stars shining down on him, reach out with a clarity he never could have imagined and bask in their light.

Well, that light wasn’t so bright, now.

He slipped down the path towards their mystery third, first. Her heart was quiet, dim, keening weakly with grief-loss-why-gonegonegonegone as it shivered in the void. Axel hovered over her, grief and longing dripping off him. He gathered together his energy, flickering warmth, heat of the skin and the sun and the banked embers and imagined – removing a coat, pulling it over her shoulders – a layer of I know your grief-I’m here-together. It settled over her as he ran a touch along her aura, watching as her crying quieted, slipping into a more restful sleep.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to his other bond, the one he dreaded, looking out to where the string – still, lifeless – stretched out into a pitch-black void. Bracing himself, he reached out into it, feeling nothing but cold and emptyemptyempty, but still he reached, even as he began to go numb.

It had been a decade since he’d had much faith in anything, but there was nothing he believed in more than them.

Please, he begged – to Roxas, the universe, anyone who would listen, Please, he can’t be gone, not after we’ve come so far. A light like his can’t just go out like this –

This can’t be the end of us. I refuse.

The lightest touch – the brush of fingers against his, a spark, embers flying, and –

A snatch of sound, a figure seen from the corner of your eyes, a not-quite-memory you can’t quite lose. Worry that can’t be worry, because you don’t have a heart, but – how’d your caper go? – it’s important to know, anyways, and –

warmth sliding down his veins to curl in his chest, flickering embers – a fire starter always knows how to set a blaze, so he coaxed them higher, set his own sparks against them, and –

Twin bright smiles, the warmth of a sunset on your skin, blonde hair and blue eyes and everything you’ve ever wanted. A slow, open hand, a proud shimmy – ta-da! – and –

A Keyblade flickered into a black-clad hand, the fingers slipping from his own.

Axel’s eyes snapped open, gaze darting to the new weight burning in his hand – his own chakram as a hilt, a long lance spearing out from the top point, gleaming silver, decorated with sharp flame motifs at the end.

With a shuddering breath, Axel held it close, pressing his forehead to the hilt.

Roxas…

“Axel?”

Axel drew in a sharp breath, rubbing his hands over his eyes once, quick, blinking away any lingering dampness before he pasted on a grin and turned around.

“Kairi, hey! Sorry for ditching – needed a little time to stretch my legs, you know?”

“Mhm,” Kairi hummed, her once-over letting him know she didn’t buy it at all, but thankfully her eyes caught on the weapon in his hands, distracting her, “Is that a Keyblade?”

“This?” Axel asked, lifting the Key and waving it briefly before letting it dissolve into sparks, “Yeah – looks like I didn’t need all that meditation the old man insisted on. All it took was a bit of reminiscing, and here we are!”

“That’s amazing!”

“Well, I try.”

“C’mon. Let’s go show everyone,” she said, offering her hand, “It’s time to decide what happens next.”

What happens next... Yeah.

All these years, he’d lost over and over again. But this time, no matter what, he wouldn’t be fighting alone.

This time would be different.

#kh #kingdom hearts #fanfiction #wingfic #wrap your wings au #Yza writes a thing

0 notes

0mrs-evans0 · 4 years ago

Text

𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬... 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞

Warnings: smut +18, sexual content, fingering, f x f, lesbian sex, cunnilingus, sex in public, cheating

+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Words: 1,8k

Summary: Your best friend helps you detach yourself from reality.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Enjoy the reading!

You were so tired of faking that everything is alright. Your relationship fell apart with each passing day. It wasn't the same as it used to be. Once you both loved each other, now you were together because it was much easier that way. Pretend you still feel something for him every day. Your life has become monotonous.

All the hours spent together looked the same. Nothing has changed. Well, maybe apart from the feeling you once had. You didn't feel anything for Bruce anymore. Just sad indifference. Pretending to be a happy couple in front of people was not easy. Just the thought of having to grab his hand made you disgusted. You didn't even sleep in one bed.

You weren't even sure what you were doing this for. You didn't care about him. Perhaps the thought that you would admit your mistake to your parents, who did not support the relationship from the beginning.

That evening you made an appointment with Natasha for a couple of drinks. You had a day off from work so you didn't want to stay home because you knew Bruce would be there. You didn't have to spend time with him unless it was necessary.

You started the preparations with a hot bath. You needed to relax, for a long time now your whole body was terribly tense. You poured your beloved chocolate bubble bath into the water. It was your favorite fragrance. You shake everything with your hand to make foam. You took off all your unnecessary clothing.

You stared at your naked reflection in the mirror for a moment. What happened to this confident young woman? Everything has changed since you started dating Bruce. You didn't feel so attractive anymore. You don't even remember the last time he praised you, what your body looks like. You wanted to see yourself as goddesses. You deserve it. You have decided that tonight will change your life. You will love yourself and your curves again.

You carefully put one foot in the bathtub, making sure the temperature is right. The water was hot. Only that could help soothe your sore muscles. You get immersed in the water. You don't remember the last time you were so relaxed. The light from the candles gave you a blissful feeling of peace. You reached for a glass of wine you put on the edge of the tub.

After an hour you stand on the bathroom tiles. You shudder at the feeling of their coldness, wrapped your body in a fluffy white towel, and brushed your teeth. Then did some facial treatments. The next step was to lubricate the body. For today, you've chosen a balm with a slightly chocolate-strawberry aroma.

Completely refreshed, you returned to the bedroom and then to the dressing room. From the cupboard, you pulled out new baby pink lace underwear. For a moment you wondered what to wear for tonight. You've chosen a short, satin dress that you haven't had the chance to test yet. Looking in the mirror you marveled at how well it fits all your curves. You looked really sexy. You finally felt as beautiful as one time.

You put on more makeup than usual. Now, your eyes were shimmering with the glitter you used. The lips looked really tempting in that blood-red lipstick. The confidence emanated from your posture, and that was it all about. The highlighter made you look like a celebrity.

You packed the phone and keys in a small purse. Finally, you were ready to leave. Without even looking at the couch where your "boyfriend" was sitting, you made your way to the door.

You got into the yellow taxi and after a while, you stood in front of the "Inferno" club illuminated by red neon lights. You wrote to Natasha, she was already inside.

Without waiting for anything else, you entered the club and immediately went to the bar next to which your friend was standing. "Hi!" As soon as Nat noticed you, she stepped off the barstool and hugged you. "You look so beautiful in that dress, honey!"

You smiled slightly at her praise. Bruce probably wouldn't even notice your little change. You ordered yourselves a drink, sitting at the bar all the time, laughing and talking. You don't even remember the last time you had so much fun. Banner restricted all of your life areas. You finally felt free. "That's my favorite song!" Romanoff tried to shout over the loud music. "You have to go dancing with me!"

Without waiting for your reply, she pulled your hand and led you out onto the crowded dance floor. Honestly, you didn't want to dance, but you didn't want to say "no" to her either.

You don't even know at what point you started rubbing against each other. The feeling of her body against yours was heavenly. Natasha, as if reading your mind, turned to look at you. You felt her hands on your hips. Your lips started a fight for domination. Her hand began to wander down your dress. She tugged its end gently.

Your whole body stiffened as Romanoff touched your smooth pussy. She didn't care if you were still on the dance floor full of people where someone might notice it at any moment. "God!" She moaned into your ear. "You're so wet for me. When was the last time someone touched you the way I do?" "I don't remember." Your cheeks turned red in the embarrassment. They resembled the color of a ripe tomato. Natasha did not expect such honesty.

She laughed a little, which made you worse embarrassed. Without asking any more questions, she took her hand out from your panties and licked her wet fingers provocatively.

After a while, you both ended up in a bathroom. Natasha pushed you onto the dark tiles. She smiled as she noticed the goosebumps on your skin. You couldn't help it that your own friend turned you on.

You had never thought of her that way before. "Tell me, sweetheart..." Her lips were on your neck. More shivers passed you as Natasha left bite marks on your sensitive skin. "Do you want me to ruin that pretty body of yours?" "Y-yes." You stuttered. "Yes, what?" She smiled maliciously.

"Yes, please." You said quietly. "You have to be louder. I want everyone in this fucking club to hear how thirsty you are for me. "Please fuck me!" You practically screamed. "If you are asking so nicely." She smiled seeing what state she brought you to. Just at that moment, you felt her fingers inside you.

You groaned out loud at a feeling you've never had before. You were not used to such delicate hands, but to be honest you liked what Natasha did to your body much more than men did.

Her fingers skimming along your slick lower lips. You couldn't help but keep out loud moans and gasps. Her free hand slid against the side of your face straight to the mouth. You sucked her finger at which Romanoff snarled loudly.

She had dreamed about this moment for so long. Now that she finally had you at her disposal, she couldn't get enough of your beautiful face. Your moans made Natasha want you even more. She has long suspected you're not straight. Tonight she found out the hard way.

Seeing her watching you fiercely, you pulled Natasha into a careless kiss. Her lips were soft and juicy. It was a nice change from the dry ones you've always been in contact with.

She cupped your jaw and titled your head back. She wanted to remember this view for the rest of her life. You were canting your hips for more. Natasha's fingers coated in your arousal. She was so close to your clit. She moved her thumb so she could circle it.

You were squirming at the pleasure she gave you. Your lips didn't part, you both wanted more. Suddenly she knelt down in front of you, tore your soaked panties to shreds, and made her way to your inner thighs. The feeling of her lips against your body was indescribable. You grabbed the strands of her hair with trembling hands. You weren't worried about her hairstyle, which was ruined at the moment. You had to hold on to the wall, you knew you could fall at any moment, and you were already very close to it.

Her tongue on your pussy was incredible. You knew this one time would not be enough. Natasha made you addicted to her touch and the pleasure it carried.

You were like a junkie, missing the right dose for months. Your friend was like a drug and you wanted more with every second. You would give anything to feel like this all the time. You were high. "I'm gonna cum." You moaned. "Cum, baby." She said with her lips still on your sensitive area. "Cum for me!"

"Everything fine there?" You heard a knock on the bathroom door and a concerned woman's voice. You got scared a little, but you didn't want Nat to stop. "Yeah! Everything is fine!" At the same moment you came with a loud groan.

Natasha laughed, which sent shivers down your body. "Did he ever make you so wet?" She asked with a mocking smile. Even though she had wanted you for a long time, playing with a girl of the would-be boyfriend was satisfying, to say the least. Romanoff knew she got you into a state you never knew before. Natasha made a beast out of you.

You came home on shaky legs. You still got chills at what you did with Nat. She made you addicted to herself. You wanted more and more.

When you entered the apartment, you noticed that Bruce was still sitting on the couch in the living room. Hearing the door open, he glanced towards you. "How was your night with Nat?" Bruce asked. He noticed the smudged lipstick you had all over your chin. "It was..." You have been wondering for a moment. "Intensive."

Just remembering it, wetness floated down your naked thighs.

#natsha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow smut #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #natasha x you #natasha x y/n

389 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 3 years ago

Text

everything happens for a reason part 3 - zuko x fem!reader

I feel so much, I get carried away

part 2 | masterlist | part 4

a/n: enjoy the fluff in this chapter bc its not gonna last

once again for reference - this chapter takes place 2 years after the last one so y/n is 11 and zuko is 12

warning(s): eating/food, but otherwise its pure fluff

wc: 3.3k

chapter title comes from carried away by madison beer!

i ran out of kid zuko gifs so i had to make my own smh if you want something done you gotta do it yourself

The young friendship only flourished after that fateful day. Zuko and Y/N began spending almost all of their freetime together between Y/N teaching him about her culture, their usual talking in the hallways, and finding ways to hang out together outside of her schedule. She was absolutely delighted to be teaching Zuko though, so she always made sure there was time for her self proclaimed academy.

Y/N was constantly busy around the castle, so in order to hang out they had started waking up extra early — the pair had become experts at sneaking around the castle with the first rays of the sun. The gardens were a favourite because of its availability, and of course, the turtleducks. It also gave Y/N a chance to bend outside of healing, something that they began to take advantage of as they got older.

Sparring sessions became a regular between them as a way for Y/N to get some practice with martial bending, Zuko to experience fighting against a waterbender, and just another way for them to spend time together. Of course, they had to keep it as quiet as possible to avoid alerting anyone of their presence, but that became the least of their worries over time.

They each pushed each other to be better, and with Y/N’s healing skills, they were able to walk away every morning without any injuries. But after discovering a very unfair advantage that the prince held, she decided that morning sparring just wasn’t enough.

(“Firebending gets stronger in the morning,” he had told her after a particularly brutal blast resulting in some emergency bending on Y/N’s part to extinguish a tree. “My teachers always say that we rise with the sun.”

“Well,” she had said with a smile. “We rise with the moon. You just signed yourself up for some late night sparring sessions.”)

Y/N had truly started to come into her own. It had been two years since her capture, and though she had in no way made peace with her life in the Fire Nation, she was trying to take advantage of it as much as she could. Even though she despised being at the beck and call of nobles and guards, she couldn’t deny the opportunities it gave her to hone her abilities. Her healing had improved tenfold and her martial bending wasn’t too shabby either. Between all of the time spent with Zuko and practicing her bending, she was able to distract herself from her dim reality.

But the world was a cruel, cruel place, no matter how much she tried to ignore it. It didn’t treat souls like Zuko and Y/N kindly, a fact that they would soon become aware of.

In the moment though, Y/N was more focused on not getting burnt.

She twirled to the side as a small flame shot past her, just barely managing to dodge it as she bent a stream of water out from the pond and sent it at Zuko. He turned it to steam as he blocked it with his own fire, which he then sent back at her with a combination of a punch and a kick. Y/N raised her hands and bent up a large wall of water from the pond, and with a small grunt on her part, sent it flying towards Zuko. He tried to conjure up his own fire shield in an effort to extinguish the water once more, but it was too little too late and he ended up getting knocked to the ground and completely drenched.

Y/N couldn’t stop the giggle that fell from her lips as Zuko wiped water off of his face, sputtering incoherently while he pushed himself up. “Did you really have to do that?” he complained.

“You know I do.” She grinned as she walked around the pond to his side, cracking her knuckles before she began to bend the water out of his clothes. “This was in the morning, too. Admit it, I’m getting better!”

He cracked a smile of his own. “You really are. I just wish that you getting better didn’t end up in me getting soaked every time.”

She bent the water she had extracted from his clothes back into the pond and held out her hand to help him up from the ground, which he took gratefully. “That just makes it more fun.”

As she helped pull him up, Y/N found herself more than a little transfixed. The rays of the rising sun shone down on him perfectly, and the smile still on his lips made her feel flutter bats in her stomach.

Y/N didn’t know when she had started seeing Zuko in a different light than usual. When his laughs became melodious, his smile like a ray of sunshine on its own, his company coveted. While she was usually able to trade verbal jabs with him without a second thought, doing her self-assigned job of keeping him humble, something had changed in the past year.

They grew steadily closer over the years after they had met, but one event in particular all but pushed Zuko into her arms.

Ursa’s banishment.

Of course, they didn’t know that she had been banished. No one aside from Ozai knew the true nature of her disappearance — to her children and the other inhabitants of the palace, it was just that. A disappearance.

It was suspicious, yes. All in the span of a day, Princess Ursa vanished, Fire Lord Azulon mysteriously perished, and Ozai took his place, but nothing could be done. It was a somber day for every servant — Ursa showed them a kindness that couldn’t be found anywhere else in the palace, and to rub salt in the wound, a man just as cruel as Azulon had risen to the throne.

Zuko was devastated. He had always been close with his mother, and the only thing she had given him before leaving was a short goodbye and a kiss. He was angry beyond belief at the abandonment, and that anger overshadowed his grief.

Y/N tried to help him, but he lashed out at her.

“Your mother is still here and she loves you! Mine left me like I was nothing. Don’t try and say you know how I feel.”

“But my father is gone. I do know how you feel Zuko, and I want to help you, but I can’t help you if you keep pushing me away.”

“…you don’t know anything.”

It hurt, but she knew he needed space. She gave it to him, letting him brew alone and take out his anger however necessary, but let him know that the door was open when he was ready to talk.

He did — he had apologized for what he said and she accepted, and Zuko ended up spilling every emotion he had to her over the next few weeks. She listened, offered advice when she could, and made Zuko feel a little bit less alone in the scheme of it all. It was a horrible experience, but it brought them closer together, and the prince was eternally thankful that he had a friend to help him through the ordeal.

The night that he came to her room, admitting that he was hurting and asking for her help — Y/N thinks that was the moment she fell for him. She cursed herself at the time for developing feelings for her only friend in the palace, but over time she learned to cover them up. She had to remember her place.

She understood her role, but it got harder and harder to keep up with it the more time she spent with Zuko — this moment was no exception.

“Yeah, yeah. I just hold back because I don’t want to burn you.”

“Liar!” she exclaimed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. “You forget that I can heal myself if anything goes wrong. Besides, I know you’d never burn me. I trust you.”

Zuko smiled and smoothed his clothes back down, the only sign of their sparring session now gone. “Good, because I trust you too. No matter how many times you totally drench me.”

She snorted as she started to walk back to the palace. “Like I said, that just makes it more fun. And as fun as it has been completely crushing you in combat, duty calls.”

He sighed, giving a reluctant nod as he started to follow her — then his eyes lit up, and he grabbed her arm to stop them. “Wait, how much work do you have today?”

Y/N thought for a few seconds then shrugged. “Dunno, it varies. I got stuck working with Jaysa all this morning, so that’s going to take forever, I have my usual healing lessons with Master Rika after, and then I usually just end up going around with whatever else comes my way for the rest of the day.” She grinned and lowered her voice as if the subject of the matter could somehow hear her. “I’ve been working on a dress for my mother in secret because her birthday is coming up soon, so the free time I get between my shifts that isn’t spent with you has been going towards that.”

Zuko gaped. “You’re making her a dress all on your own, with no help? How?”

She held up her hands with a proud smile. “These things are good for waterbending, sewing, and hitting best friends.”

He gave her a sideways grin at that. “I’m your best friend?”

Y/N snickered and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, dummy. You’re like, the only person that likes me in this whole nation. Of course you’re my best friend.”

“Well…” he started. “Would a best friend like to break the rules even more tonight?”

Her eyes lit up in turn, completely betraying her excitement despite her attempt to look nonchalant about it. “That depends — what d’you have in mind?”

He grinned and leaned forward, dropping his voice to a whisper as he spoke in her ear. “So, after you finish work for the night, we…”

It was a struggle to get through all of her work after the plan that she and Zuko had formulated — sure, they broke the rules all the time. The basis of their entire friendship was breaking the rules, but this was going farther than they ever had before. Y/N wasn’t thinking about the consequences though, she was thinking about the journey — that was her first mistake.

She had rushed through all of her chores with Jaysa, hardly paid attention in her healing lessons, and made quick work of the rest of her day until she was finally able to meet up with Zuko at one of the various servant entrances that she had shown him.

“You’re finally here!” he exclaimed, his body buzzing with nervous energy. “I thought you were never gonna come.”

“Some of us actually have work to get done, mister crown prince,” she joked as she bumped his shoulder with hers. “But that doesn’t matter — let’s get going before someone catches us! I don’t want it to get too dark either.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Zuko reassured. “My dad is in war meetings all day, no one is going to catch us. Now come on!”

Zuko pushed open the door, grabbed her hand, and began to pull her along. A laugh fell from her lips as they ran, unable to stop herself from casting a cautionary glance behind them as they got farther from the palace. Y/N tried to push her worries out of her mind — like she had told Zuko earlier, she trusted him.

That was her second mistake.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak past the guards around the wall and just as quick to get through Royal Caldera, and before Y/N knew it, they had arrived in the city.

It was nothing like she had ever seen before.

The village she had grown up in was miniscule compared to anything in the Fire Nation, and she was especially awestruck upon entering the city. As home to more middle class citizens than anything, it was a bustling marketplace filled with workers and nobles alike — if she hadn’t been preoccupied with the stars in her eyes, she would’ve been able to see the way Zuko was absolutely beaming at her.

“Come on!” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand once again as he began to walk — at a much more moderate pace than their run here — down the streets. “There’s so much here that I wanna show you. Have you ever been out here?”

She shook her head, allowing herself to gawk at her surroundings while they went down the street. “We aren’t really allowed to leave the palace since we’re technically still prisoners, just… ones that work. My mother always had to give her money to one of the other servants so that when they went out to buy their things, they could pick some stuff up for us as well. This is all totally new.”

Once again, a frown found its way onto Zuko’s face, but only for a split second before he pointed at a stall opposite to them. “Oh— there’s a fruit stand! Come on, you have to try this.”

Y/N let Zuko pull her over to the stand, looking at the array of fruits on display while Zuko conversed with the merchant. A few silver pieces later and they were walking away with a basket of produce — miraculously, the prince hadn’t been recognized, so she figured he wouldn’t need a disguise. Third mistake.

“Here,” he said, offering her a mango from the basket. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Fire Nation mango.”

She took the fruit from him and bit into it, her eyes immediately widening as she turned on Zuko. “Tui’s gills, this is delicious! You’re telling me that you people just have this on hand but we don’t get any of it?”

He shrugged and took a fig from the basket as Y/N wiped some juice off of her chin. “There’s a reason I’ve helped you break into the kitchens so many times. Now, where do you wanna go next?”

The pair spent the next couple of hours browsing the marketplace, enjoying their day on the Fire Lord’s coin. Zuko was more than happy to show Y/N parts of his culture after all she had taught him, and she was more than happy to experience it. They had been able to buy lanterns for the upcoming Festival of Szeto, purchase their own blends of tea leaves, and of course Zuko insisted on getting fire flakes and gummies.

(Y/N thought he was insane. Why in the world would the Fire Nation want to make food that hurt them on purpose? She was going to stick with her newfound love for mangoes.)

But Zuko hadn’t even brought her to the best part yet.

“Can I open my eyes now?” She asked, her anxious tone betraying her curiosity.

“Now you can.” Y/N was met with Zuko’s grin and as she focused on the stand in front of them, she had to make a conscious effort to not gape.

Zuko had brought her to a sewing stand with all the threads, fabrics, and silks that she could dream of in all kinds of colors. She immediately rushed forward, unable to stop herself from running her hands over and through each and every piece of material — she was in a seamstress’s heaven.

“I take that as a sign you like it?” Zuko asked happily.

“Oh, definitely,” she confirmed, still completely caught up in all the choices. “This is so much better than all the material we’re given to work with!”

“That’s why I brought you here. I thought you could get some stuff for yourself, and some stuff to help with the dress you’re making for your mom. I don’t really know how sewing works, but I thought that this was one way I could help.”

“That is so sweet of you!” she gushed. “Thank you so much — you should probably get around to some of the other stalls because I… I think I’m gonna be here for a while.”

Zuko laughed and fished out of a couple of golden pieces then set them in her hand. “That’s okay. I’ll meet you over by the steps; we can watch the sunset together.”

They nodded as parting gifts and each was enveloped in their tasks; Y/N beginning to ask the merchant questions about everything at their stand and Zuko off to entertain himself for a few more minutes.

Soon enough, Y/N had her own small bundle of silks and fabrics, her mind already going off in a million different ways of how she could incorporate it into the design. She found Zuko sitting on the steps and as she took her own seat next to him, he handed her another mango.

“Did you find everything you wanted?” She nodded and hummed gratefully as she accepted the fruit, taking a bite as her eyes fell on the skyline in front of them.

“I had a really great time today, Zuko. I really can’t thank you enough for taking me out here. I… I think I forgot what it was like to feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“...happy.” She paused for a second before allowing herself to meet his eyes. “All the time I spend with you in the palace… It’s one of the only times that I really do feel happy. And being out here today, getting to walk around where I wanted and buy things and just— I feel free, Zuko. And that means everything to me.”

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and she turned away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on like that—“

Zuko gently reached out for her hand, drawing her attention back to him and the soft smile on his face.

“Well… I care about you. You’re nice to me, and you take time out of your day to help me which you don’t have to do. This is just me trying to pay you back for all you’ve done to help me. We can do this more often — whenever my dad’s busy.”

Her own smile grew on her lips and she nodded as she laced her fingers with his. “I care about you too. And.. I’d like that.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder and together, they watched the sunset over the city.

There was no place either of them would rather be.

Y/N and Zuko made their way back to the palace as quickly as they could after realizing how late it had gotten. Y/N was sure that she was going to get the talking-to of her life after what she had done, but she was almost giddy after what had just happened. She could deal with any of Kura’s consequences later — right now the only thought in her mind was the feeling of Zuko’s hand in hers.

The night had been nothing short of perfect. She had felt freer than ever before out there in the city with Zuko, and knowing that he reciprocated the feelings she had for him was enough to make her heart burst. She cared for him, and he cared for her.

Of course, there was that nagging question of how they would continue now that their friendship had morphed into something more, but once again — it was something she would deal with later. Her fourth and final mistake.

But as a guard turned the corner, Y/N realized she might not get the chance. She quickly let go of Zuko’s hand and tucked it under the bundle of fabric, hoping that the gesture of affection had been missed by the man.

If he had noticed, he showed no sign of it. He stopped in front of them, a gruff voice speaking from behind the mask with words that made her heart stop.

“Prince Zuko, the Fire Lord has requested an audience with you.”

haha OOPS

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77

ehfar: @chandies-sideblog @persica27

atla: @marianne1806

#zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko x y/n #zuko fic #zuko #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic #atla #atla fic #zuko avatar #sadie writes

398 notes · View notes

mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

View all 9,208 comments

caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

630 notes · View notes

msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Call You Mine

Summary - When Y/N meets Jensen on the set of Supernatural, her life takes an unexpected turn. Never in her wildest dreams, Y/N thought that their casual friendship will change into something sinful after they shoot a risqué scene together one night.

Pairing - Jensen x Y/N, Jensen x OFC!Millie

Warnings - Angst, infidelity, mentions of guilt and despair, explicit mention of extramarital affairs, SMUT 18+ minors DNI (p in v, fingering, dirty talk), slight mention of Dom!Jensen (it's very slight), fluff, a happy ending.

WC - 3052

Square Filled - Free Space ( @supernatural-jackles' Tell Me A Story Bingo); Song Based Fic ( @spnmixedbingo )

A/N 1 - This is a submission for @tvdspngirl314's challenge. My prompt was "I met a girl, we talked, it was epic."

Also this is a submission for @negans-lucille-tblr's "7Ks of the Week Challenge" (Congratulations on your 7k)

@deangirl93's 500 followers challenge (congrats on your 500). My prompt was the song "I Can't Quit You Baby". All prompts are in bold.

A/N 2 - This is a work of pure fiction and irl I absolutely do not support the act of cheating in a relationship. No hate towards the Ackles fam. I love Danneel and for the sake of the fic, Jensen is married to an OFC and not Dee.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thanks, hon <33)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I can't quit you baby

So I'm gonna put you down for awhile

I said I can't quit you baby

I guess I gotta put you down for awhile

“Jensen...” The name rolled off her tongue effortlessly as the man’s fingers danced across her bare skin, his electrifying touch leaving Y/N breathless, panting and begging for more. The very touch of his that had started it all.

Everyone always expressed how being in love was the most exhilarating feeling in the world, but no one ever spoke about the perils of being in love with a person who already belonged to someone else. The ring on Jensen's finger served as a wistful and painful reminder of that.

As soon as the doors had closed, the actor had backed up Y/N against the elevator, letting her see the need in his eyes. His hands had sneaked behind her, his fingers entangling with the strands of her hair, completely messing the hairstyle she had pulled off for the m&g panel in the evening. Her hands landed on his biceps, trying to steady herself. Their lips moulded together so perfectly as if they were made for each other, but it pained Y/N to think that she was nothing but his dirty mistress.

Their relationship, if she could even call it one, was all about clandestine meets, stolen stares and subtle touches. Jensen was like a drug for her and she was high on the thrill of being with him even if he was gone in the morning, leaving her behind with nothing but guilt.

Jensen had closed the door of the suite behind him as they stepped into Y/N’s room together. With lips swollen from their heavy makeout in the elevator, he wasted no time as she found herself pinned to the wall by the actor's strong hands. In the fairly lit room, she noticed his wedding band was now missing. Y/N knew Jensen and his wife's relationship was on the rocks even before she had started to work on the SPN set. Which was also the reason why few months ago, the hide-and-seek between them and the hungry paps with cameras had started.

Hands on her hips, Jensen had pulled her close on the set, more than the director demanded it. That night, he had found himself standing inside her trailer, after the fated shot. The heart wants what it wants and just as the saying went, they had given in to their burning desires. In a moment of weakness, Jensen had broken off every single one of his vows and destroyed any hope of salvaging his relationship with his estranged wife.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jensen ripped her blouse off, unhooking her bra quickly, barely containing his eagerness before stepping out of his own jacket. Y/N clutched at the ends of the counter, knocking off the magazines lying on top of it and draping her other arm around Jensen's firm body. He delicately cupped her face as his mouth devoured hers. She could taste the mint and coffee on his lips feeling his teeth graze roughly against her, making her moan into him. The actor pushed her legs apart with his knees and stood close between her thighs as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

In desperate need of air, they momentarily separated before Jensen dipped his head down again, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck. Y/N’s legs buckled under his hypnotic touch when his mouth found her pulse point and she supported herself against his body. Jensen's hands moved down to her breasts, kneading them. His fingers caressed her hard nipples before his mouth latched onto one sensitive bud.

“Jay, please-” Y/N could only form two words as Jensen flicked her nipple while his fingers worked on the other one, spurring her on. Words weren't quite necessary, cause the man knew exactly what she needed. He knew her every tic, her every emotion like the back of his hand and Y/N was aware of that fact as well. No one could ever worship her body like he did.

Jensen was still wearing the black polo shirt, his noticeable bulge painfully straining in his jeans. She felt her wetness dampening the fabric of her panties as she thrusted her hips forward in need of some friction, her heated core brushing against his bulge.

Pulling apart for a second, Jensen’s viridian eyes studied her as his hands sneaked under her skirt. He watched her intently as she sucked on her bottom lip, closing her eyes when his fingers grazed past her soakedpanties.

A moan escaped her wet lips when Jensen's fingers hooked themselves with the waistband and in one swift pull, got rid of the panties. It quickly glided down her legs, pooling at her feet. He teased her by flicking at her bundle of nerves, making her lean her head back against the wall.

Y/N swayed on her feet a little, her hold on his shoulders tightening as she finally felt her legs give away when his fingers rubbed circles on her clit.

“Fuck-” she panted as he pushed a single finger inside her.

“Have you been thinkin’ about me all day?” Jensen leaned towards her ears, his scruff grazing across her neck. Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, eyes still squeezed shut in sheer ecstasy.

“Sweetheart, use your words.” He ordered as his finger curled inside her.

“Yeah-fuck, yes.” Jensen kissed below her ear, smirking against her skin when she obediently answered him.

“I have been thinkin’ about you too, counting down the hours till I could get you alone.” He whispered against her neck. She mewled at the feeling of him adding another finger, his thick digits stretching her out as they curled inside her. “That little dress wasn't helping either.”

“Uh-huh,” she could feel the coil inside her tightening as his finger worked their way inside her, his thumb rubbing at her folds and clit, edging her on.

“I have thinkin’ all day about you clenching around my fingers and then my cock-” his words had an immediate effect as she clenched around his fingers as he kept pumping into her, “you've thinkin’ about that too, huh?” Y/N nodded again.

“What did I say? Words.” His other hand travelled down her body, stopping at her stomach and he pinched at her waist. “Words, baby.”

“I-I have been thinki-” Y/N panted when she realised she was close to her climax. Jensen picked up his pace and pumped his fingers faster into her, brushing past her g-spot over and over again.

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,

You know it hurts me deep down inside

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,

You know it hurts me deep down inside

Oh, when you hear me, honey, baby,

You know you're my one desire

“Lemme say it, sweetheart. I know you've been thinking how I would make you come on my fingers, how my dick is gonna fill you up, make you come all over me. Don't lie.” Jensen's every assumption was right to the dot. She had been thinking of everything to the last detail since the moment she watched him get out of his car, right outside of the convention building. But there was another thought on her mind, the image of him pushing her against one of the counters of his empty brewery a few weeks ago with him buried deep inside her.

That was the last she had seen Jensen before the convention as he had gone back home to his wife.

His wife.

The one woman he had promised to be with in sickness and health, till death do them apart. Guilt clouded Y/N’s mind but all rational thoughts flew out of the window when he lowered his head, kissing the neck and the coil inside her finally snapped.

With a cry of his name, she came undone on his fingers, her legs finally giving away but Jensen's hold prevented her from toppling over. He pulled his fingers out as she whimpered at the feeling. His digits still covered in her juices, Jensen pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Y/N panted, trying to come down from the high but she wanted more. She needed to feel him.

“Y/N-” Jensen rasped, looking right at her with lust blown eyes. Y/N smacked her lips at the sight of his freckled, toned body.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He smirked as Y/N eagerly reached out for his belt buckle.

“Uh-huh.” She agreed. Jensen bit back a moan when she reached out to palm his bulge. He threw his head back at the feeling of her hand on his erection through his jeans.

“It has been weeks-” Jensen said, clearly hinting at their last time together at the brewery. He quickly unbuckled his belt, pushing down his jeans along with his boxers, his erection springing free from its confines.

“Baby, it has been weeks since I felt your tight pussy wrapped around me. Fuck.” Y/N looked at him with hooded eyes and wrapped her fingers around his length, running her palm along its shaft and her thumb rubbed the tip of his cock, already lined with beads of precum. Jensen hiked her skirt up, pushing her hands away and gave his hard cock a few slow strokes. He nudged her sensitive core with his swollen tip, all while pulling out sweet, sinful noises out of her.

“Jay,” he loved hearing her needy moans, her voice raspy when she called out his name. His hands grabbed her ass and picked her up. Hooking her legs and arms behind him, with her back still firmly pushed up against the wall, Jensen lined himself with at her entrance.

Grunting, he pushed himself into her and wrapped his arms around her body. Y/N’s mouth fell open with an inaudible moan at the feeling of his cock stretching her out. Jensen placed a chaste kiss on her lips as he let her adjust to his size before slowly pulling out of her, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside, and pushed back in again, much deeper than before.

Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him close as she bucked up her hips to match his rhythm. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Jensen grunted as he started to thrust faster.

Y/N whimpered, her eyes fluttering close as Jensen snapped his hips forward before slowly drawing them back. With every thrust, she inched closer to her release as their breathing became ragged. The actor’s skin was flushed, his cheeks turning a bright red with beads of sweat lining his forehead as he felt her clench around her. Her nails dug into his back as the coil inside her tightened.

“‘M so close,” she whispered, as he continued to mercilessly pound into her.

“Cum around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you all over me-” Jensen growled into her ears, tugging on her earlobes with his teeth and his breath tickled her neck, making her quiver. Jensen had an effect on her that no one ever had. Sometimes, she would say to herself that Millie was a really lucky woman who got to have Jensen all the time and not just on convention weekends and sneaky nights spent in his empty brewery or a trailer park.

And Y/N was the one who was ruining their relationship. A home-wrecker. The tabloids would rightfully call her that if they ever found out about their twisted relationship.

“Jensen, fuck-” a cry of pure ecstasy left her lips as the coil inside her snapped once more and she felt herself coming undone for the second time that night. Jensen's thrust had become sloppy. He rocked his hips forward, thrusting a few more times. Burying his face in the crook of her neck a muffled scream of her name escaped his lips as he spilled into her, his white, hot seed coating her walls.

He lazily circled his hips a few times, his cock becoming soft inside her before he pulled out of her. His cum trickled down her leg, when he set her down, Y/N felt herself go weak in her knees when she tried to stand.

“Hi,” Jensen smiled, their eyes meeting, before he leaned forward.

“Hi.” Y/N whispered back. They stood together, holding each other closely with their foreheads touching. Guilt seeped into her and so did despair but she didn't regret any moment they spent together.

“Let me clean up the mess,” Jensen said.

“I'm gonna hop into the shower.” She said, holding out the hope that he would join her but he didn't.

“Alright.” It was all he said. Dejected, she pulled away from him and made her way towards the shower. All she wanted was to spend every single minute with him before he went back to his room to keep up the facade of his happily married life.

In the shower, Y/N thought about the day she had first met Jensen when she was a newbie on the set and reflected back on their rollercoaster of a relationship. There was an instant connection between them. Jensen was always such a gentleman. He truly cared for her, but love... she didn't know if even the idea of love existed between them or if she was just an affair.

She stepped out of the bathroom and saw that Jensen was now In his boxers. He gave her a nod and moved past her into the bathroom. A sad smile formed on her lips as she watched him walk away. She put on a comfortable pair of pjs and crawled into the bed, under the covers, waiting for the exact moment when Jensen stepped out of the bathroom and put on his clothes. And just like every other time, she would watch him leave after he kissed her forehead and told her he doesn't have a choice.

This time though, it was going to be different.

Y/N didn't want Jensen to leave, neither did she want to watch him go so she squeezed her eyes shut, adamant of not responding when he walked up to her.

She flinched when he heard the bathroom door shut. She counted down the minutes till the goodbye kiss but instead she felt the other side of the bed dip down with a familiar weight. Opening her eyes, she felt his hand wrapping around her waist. Jensen was in her bed. She turned to face him.

He was breathing slowly. His long lashes rested against his cheek and his freckled face reflected the look of absolute contentment.

Said you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh, you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh when I feel you near me little girl

I know you are my one desire

“You're staring.” He whispered.

“You're staying.” She replied back, making his beautiful eyes flutter open.

Pursing his lips together, he said, “Do you not want me to?”

“No-I mean, yes. Stay…But, what about Jared?”

“What about him?” He scrunched up his face in confusion.

“What if he finds out about us?” Y/N asked as she panicked. Hiding this relationship from Jared was the hardest task. He was like a brother to Jensen so he didn't want to lie to him but it was important to keep him in the shadows.

“Let him find out. I don't care anymore-”

“Jensen!” Y/N exclaimed. She didn't understand what was going on in his mind.

“It's okay, Y/N.” He said.

“How is it okay?”

“Millie and I are over. I finally ended it.”

Her mouth fell open in complete surprise. Of everything she had expected, this was the last thing she was anticipating to hear. “Our relationship was long dead anyway. We have separated. I'm filing for a divorce once I go back home this week.” Y/N would lie if she said that the thought of him choosing her over his wife had never crossed her mind.

“It's all because of me, isn't it-”

“No. No, sweetheart. We were already over even before I met you. I was just too scared to admit it to myself but then I met a girl, we talked. It was epic and the thought of losing her scared me more than anything else.” Jensen caressed her cheek, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He felt a burden being lifted from his shoulders. He could finally be with the woman he truly loved.

“Does this mean no more hiding?” She said, tears pooled in her eyes. Y/N needed to hear him say it now that she could shout it from the rooftops Jensen belonged to her, and she to him.

“Being with you made me realise what I was missing. All this while, I wasted my time trying to work on a dead relationship when I should have realised sooner that it was a lost case. That you are the one I want 'cause baby, I can't quit you. Millie and I would have never worked out no matter how many couple’s therapy we went to….I have never regretted a single moment I have spent with you. I love what we have. I love you.” Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in everything he said. Her mind was reeling from his sudden declaration. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as the corners of her lips tugged up, forming a smile but she was too overwhelmed to say anything, which Jensen took the wrong way and it scared him.

“Y/N-” his smile disappeared as his hand dropped from her cheeks, “I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?” Y/N immediately moved towards him. Her hands raked through his soft hair before she pulled him in for a longing kiss.

“I didn't even realise when I became yours but I know it happened at some point, Jay. I love you so much.” Y/N said. With smiles and their eyes sparkling with newfound happiness, they stayed in bed as Y/N nuzzled into his side. Jensen's warm hands were wrapped around her and she smiled against his chest. For the first time, the fear of losing Jensen didn't cross her mind because she knew he would stay with her that night and all that would follow. She was going to wake up with him by her side and didn't have to sneak behind anyone's back anymore.

She was happy and in love and so was Jensen.

Feedback is highly appreciated!

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x you #SPNMixedBingo #bees7ksoftheweekchallenge #allyswritingevent #deangirl93s500followerscelebration #TellMeaStoryBingo #jensen x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fluff #jensen ackles angst

390 notes · View notes

galadhremmin · 3 years ago

Note

We have derived Caranthir liking the Dwarves (and vice versa) because apparently, Finrod succeeds in every field Caranthir fails, and at this point it's clear this derives from the in-universe writer of the Silm and his own biases. Think about it: "Dark Finwë" , a grumpy, prejudiced lordling, and "Hair Champion", most handsome, noble king, have met with the same people!! Yet the king of the first secret kingdom is everyone's friend, but the prince that trades with them regularly is not... seems sus.

Hence, Caranthir is friends with the Dwarves. (But that is just an interpretation, so you're free to think what you wish, I just have several opinions on in-universe prejudice and the almighty narrative.)

I think that 'we' might actually have been Dawn Felagund years ago. Maybe this reading existed even before that, but I doubt that-- she's been very influential in silm fandom and was long before tumblr was much of a thing. https://dawnfelagund.com/caranthir-the-slandered

I wouldn't say it's 'clear' that what amounts to Caranthir's entire documented personality derives from the bias of the in-universe narrator, though as you can see from Dawn's writing it's a reading you can argue for. There are a number of different approaches you can take to the Silm and its biases anyway. One of the few times when it's absolutely clear the text isn't telling the entire story is when it talks about the Easterlings. I've posted about this before but the recorded names are, uhh.... the ones to betray the elves are unlikely to actually have been named things like 'ugly lord' and 'ugly beard.' 'Dark Finwe' on the other hand is a documented reference to his haircolour being dark like Finwe's own; hardly a negative judgement!

I personally think Caranthir can be exactly as ill-tempered and prejudiced as the Silm paints him without becoming an unsympathetic character. If a writer cannot make a moody, deeply prejudiced man an interesting character that is a failure as a writer; there are after all enough books who manage exactly that. That is not to say choosing not to write him that way is a failure (obviously not), but it's not necessary in order to make a reader feel for him at all.

Just going by the text, I think it actually might make for a more interesting narrative to explore in fic to me. Because he does change his mind about something, and at a very specific moment; when he meets the Haladin. That is much less dramatic if he secretly been as nice and popular as Finrod, and got along with everyone all the time already. He's been raised by Fëanor, who said things like 'No other race shall oust us!' and rallied the Noldor not motivated enough by vengeance for Finwë alone by playing on their deep-seated fear of being replaced by the Secondborn. Very unlikely that had no impact. At best it has made him uninterested in humans in his area (while they're not much of a threat to ruling instead of the elves anyway). The text says they paid them no heed.

And yet! Caranthir sees how brave Haleth and her people are. He 'does her great honour.' He changes his mind and offers them lands. His tragedy to me is not that of a slandered figure, but of this deeply, deeply prejudiced person raised to distrust the motivations of human beings -- who overcomes those beliefs, offers friendship, is rejected! then extends that same trust to the Easterlings anyway... and it's those specific Easterlings, not the ones who ally with his brothers-- who betray them all. And cause the disastrous ending of the Nirnaeth. It's the 'to evil end shall all things turn that they begin well' part of the curse hitting him in the least fair way possible. Someone finally changes for the better, and the outcome is treason and destruction.

That is a very good character arc to me, actually. His aesthetics-based scorn for the Dwarves is reprehensible but strikes me as deeply Elvish, and part of his prejudices. Naugrim is too unflattering a name for them for it not to be common. His temper-- well why can't he have one? Sure there's only one recorded instance -- but that's imo because there are hardly any conversations in the Silm! Anyway I like some people with tempers well enough. Personally I think people are missing out on opiniated grouches.

Obviously the biased anti-Feanorian Pengolodh reading is a nice one, and I have enjoyed a lot of stories written based it. But it's not at all a reading that is necessary for me to read Caranthir as a flawed but sympathetic character. He can have serious faults and still, ultimately, be someone I feel for.

What I was asking though was if I overlooked any canon evidence of Caranthir being particularly, personally fond of the Dwarves; and it seems I did not. Also; there is room for Caranthir growing to like the Dwarves over centuries without an anti-Feanorian bias reading this strong, there is simply no evidence for friendship in the rather barebones narrative (I'm not interested atm because it's wildly overdone to me & I like variety).

That said, in my opinion making Caranthir the hidden, slandered Feanorian Finrod equivalent with a dash of Curufin's Dwarf affection is not as enjoyable as simply working with what little canon character is actually there. Because there is one (and it's not the greedy tax collector of some fanon depictions either imo)

1. To start with, wrt Caranthir as the anti-Finrod, I don't think it works that well. Sure sure dark/light, open/prejudiced, repressed/shouty, but different motivations, different locations, plus they meet very different peoples even if both are Edain-- besides, Caranthir's own older brothers do successfully ally with the Easterlings without betrayal, while Curufin (much more so than Finrod! no Khuzdul for Finrod!) is the Dwarves' Friend(tm). Also, a flawed Finrod already exists. That's just the regular edition. He has his own faults and (very different) tragic arc.

If Finrod never seems to have strong prejudices to overcome, and if he's not confrontational (which... look he's a diplomat. Make of that what you will. Pretty awkward there in Doriath, buddy!) he does have trouble facing his own complicity (he wanted to sail those ships despite the murders) until Sauron beats him to death with it. He leaves Valinor with the idea of ruling but he has to give up the crown. He's ambitious, he seems emotionally repressed, he's.. possibly paying the greater Dwarves to drive the Petty Dwarves out of their ancestral home to build a city? Oops. Depending on the version you go with in that case, of course; there's also ones where he's free of the blame of that one. Not of wanting to sail those ships and being uneasy with the guilt wrt wanting to do so despite their being stolen and murdered for though. No he doesn't kill; but he wants to use the result of it anyway, and to make it worse he is actually half Telerin.

There's also (to be fair, only for sure after the disaster of the Sudden Flame because that's the recorded instance) his guards killing random innocent trespassers to keep his kingdom hidden -- yes, that's right there in Silm, yes he's still King at the time. Beren has to wave that ring. People just seem to miss that he'd be killed without it somehow.

I think it's just too easy to reduce him to the golden perfect opposite of Caranthir. Yes he's described more positively; he's also just mentioned more because unlike Caranthir he rules an actual kingdom, the greatest and richest in Beleriand in fact; and does things that have a lot of very longterm effects, like helping B&L steal a Silmaril. They don't 'meet the same people' anyway -- the Haladin have a different culture from the Beorians which contributes to their reaction to Caranthir (and iirc their later fate).

Sidenote: Dawn's essay attributes the Green Elves helping the Feanorians at Amon Ereb to Caranthir's diplomatic skills; but why not to those of Amras or Amrod? This is the quote; 'Caranthir fled and joined the remnant of his people to the scattered folk of the hunters, Amrod and Amras, and they retreated and passed Ramdal in the south. Upon Amon Ereb they maintained a watch and some strength of war, and they had aid of the Green-elves' -- nothing here indicates it was Caranthir who got them that aid. In fact A&A are the hunters, i.e. more likely to have roamed in various forests where they would have encountered Green Elves, imo.

There's also the very desperate times to consider in which this aid takes place. This is just post Sudden Flame, and even if the Green Elves didn't like Caranthir they probably liked him better than Morgoth. Also, speaking of cosmopolitans, Maedhros allies with, yes, Dwarves (Azaghal), Grey elves, Easterlings (and you might say: Fingolfinians); even part of the remaining people of Dorthonion rally to Himring post sudden flame (that means Edain and Arafinwean followers in Himring, at least for a time), and he manages to be friendly with Felagund despite calling him a badger. ;)

Finrod is not the only other leader to forge diverse alliances, and though B&L ends happily his people mostly do not. Caranthir's not much like Finrod in any way. Not in motivations, temperament, tragic arc. That's fine. No hidden kingdom for a dragon to eat either. Finrod could probably do with being a little less like Finrod sometimes, though he's well-intentioned and likable. Caranthir loves to shout and isn't sneaky. Good for him.

2. Curufin also already exists. His love for Dwarves is one of his defining and redeeming characteristics and boy does he need them. He's daddy's favourite, a sneaky overambitious bitchy bastard who is also a talented smith and linguist, and truly considered a Dwarf friend, which is apparently exceptional. He's quite flawed; tries to help Celegorm force a political marriage, laughs with a bruised mouth, seeming to lose his mind while attempting and failing murder after first losing his own stronghold and then the city he tried to take from his cousin. He's just... a personality. Mostly a bad one! You can feel for him though, because he seems like an utter mess. Many 'i would love to study you' feelings on my part. Would hate for him to be real but also I'd pay to be his therapist.

3. And then finally there's Canon Caranthir. A difficult, prejudiced person who despite that (which doesn't at all have to mean there is no despite, the despite is what makes it juicy)

- seems to be responsible for re-establishing (large scale?) trade with the Dwarves, whatever he might think of them (and they of him) to their mutual benefit. I don't think he's greedy either. It seems like a mutually profitable situation. Access to Dwarvish goods seems pretty vital to Beleriand, and facilitating trade is a real service.

As someone pointed out in the replies, the Silm does mention Dwarvish companies travelling east to Nan Elmoth and menegroth various times, but quote wrt Caranthir says 'Caranthir’s people came upon the Dwarves, who after the onslaught of Morgoth and the coming of the Noldor had ceased their traffic into Beleriand' and 'when the Dwarves began again to journey into Beleriand.'

They stopped at some point and Caranthir's people made it happen again.

- which means he's practical. He seems like he's good at organising, and setting his own feelings aside if necessary despite his prejudice and temper (which is an achievement it wouldn't be without his, hm, everything). Also he and his people as well as the Dwarves work together well because ''either people loved skill and were eager to learn,' despite their (initial?) mutual dislike. Those aren't bad characteristics; seems like it was an exchange of skill as well as goods and possibly providing safe travel opportunities.

I don't like the 'greedy Caranthir' fanon and don't think it is even that easy support entirely with canon. 'They had of it great profit,' the text says-- both Caranthir and the Dwarves. They exchanged skills and knowledge and Caranthir seems to have helped them start trading in Beleriand again. That's hardly Scrooge Mcduck.

- Another thing we can say about canonthir (lol) is that he apparently attaches a lot of value to aesthetics (was he a visual artist? is a he a sculptor like Nerdanel? WORSE: AN ART CRITIC?! Feanorian art critic is truly nightmare fuel) and that's why he dislikes Dwarves (of all things...). Either way points to 'aesthetics' as something apparently important to Caranthir. Which makes sense given who his parents are. What is interesting to me is that this apparently DOESN'T matter to Curufin, who is a lot like Feanor in most things. That's interesting!

I've never, never seen this but I think it would be very funny to attribute his aesthetic prejudices to Nerdanel. I love her; but why should her opinions be perfect? I know she wasn't considered beautiful herself, but she's an artist. She's got to have had some strong opinions on aesthetics anyway. I doubt it's the beards; Mahtan had one as well. And 'stunted'...at least some of this comes down to the Elvish obsession with height yet again. Hm.

- eventually Caranthir overcomes what have to be some very deeply held beliefs about human beings and their place in the world, and offers what for all intents and purposes looks like real friendship, not the ruling over Men Feanor seems to have had in mind at best. He's capable of real change!

Anyway his character works just fine to me from canon, and what he achieves and the ways in which he fails are more interesting that way rather-- neither slandered Feanorian Finrod 2.0 nor Curufin 'Dwarf Fan' Feanorion without the sneakiness and murder attempts pack the same punch as a stupidly prejudiced grouchy man doing his best anyway for centuries in this stupid ugly cursed land, eventually changing for the better, opening up-- and being brutally punished for it by the Doom.

Dammit. I hope there's therapy in the Everlasting Darkness.

hm a bit long but that's what I get for trying to gather my thoughts wrt why after considering it a bit transferring Curufin's love for Dwarves to Caranthir is a bit boring to me personally. Though there are still stories that still do it very well.

#no one asked including me but there you go anyway #that's what you get when i wake up at nearly 3 in the morning and thnk. FUCK i can't sleep #caranthir

100 notes · View notes

sunshineandcybertronians · 3 years ago

Text

Make Your Choice - Megatron x reader x Starscream (TFP)

Word count: 2,621 Warnings: angst, conflicting feelings, major character death A/n: Finished this in one day 9/21/19 at 11:01 PM (holy heck, that was a long time ago). I read pages 140-144 in Transformers Exodus. I never thought I’d write something that’s even slightly Megatron x reader, but here I am. But this oneshot turned out good.

"Where is he?" You searched the dark corridor of Nemesis for a friend.

As a Decepticon you served under Megatron, and Starscream at times. You were lucky enough to be close to both of them. Although Decepticons would never admit to having friends, you called them this secretly.

You were kind to everyone, even those you didn't know. It hurt you to think of anyone in pain. The majority of the Decepticons knew this, and it was miraculously pardoned thus you were given tasks that required no violence. Perhaps it was your soft words and consideration that made this so, finding a soft spot in the seemingly merciless Megatron. Starscream also respected this when he was in control for about three years.

It was very possible someone would question why you were a Decepticon with your nature being closer to an Autobot. This had occurred to you before, but you hoped to change the Decepticons. If everyone who was good left the Decepticons, there would be no chance of changing it to good in the future. Plus, most of your friends were on that side.

You looked through a doorway, he wasn't there either. "Where are you, Starscream?" You whispered to yourself. Well, you said friend earlier, but recently your feelings for him were becoming a little... different.

Since you finished some work sooner than you presumed, you now had free time that you intended to spend it with Starscream. Upon coming to a T in the halls, you paused to think of a plan. Snapping your fingers, you rushed in the direction of the medbay, to not waste another second of your time. Maybe Knockout knew where he was. Out of everyone he was the second closest to the second in command. While jogging, you remembered when you first started to develop feely for him.

Despite the fact you were kind-sparked, this didn't mean that you were not immune to frustration. At the point of time Megatron had just left on his journey through space, Starscream attacked a vehicon because he was dissatisfied with their lack of progress. For no good reason, out of anger.

"Hey!" You had barked at him, startling both him and the vehicons. "Don't do that. They did nothing to you."

He examined you with his red optics. A snarl and an un-amused expression decorated his faceplate as his tilted his helm back. Releasing the vehicon whilst shoving him away, he shifted his attention to you. He approached you, in attempt to intimidate you.

Your held your ground.

"And I believe you should be reminded of your place. You are a subordinate, who doesn't even have the fuel tank to draw energon. You don't tell me what to do."

"No! You listen!" When his servos flinched, you stepped forward to grab them to prevent him from attacking you. You shoved your faceplate near his, with barely any space apart. "They're on the same side as you. Don't hurt people for no reason. It's not nice." After your anger faded, you realized how close your face was. Energon rushed through you.

He smirked, which didn't help your flustered look. "Are you blushing, little femme?"

"No!" You stepped away.

You thought a little more and decided you wanted to clear something up before you left. "But you are a good leader. You just need to avoid letting your anger get the best of you. If you make emotional decisions, you might mess up your chance to succeed, like I know you can."

Shock filled his expression, his optics widening and eyebrows lifting at the thought you actually believed in him. He quickly regained his senses. "You mean like you did just now?" He showed teeth while displaying the irony.

You pursed your lips and averted your gaze to the ground. "Yes. Just like that," you mumbled.

And strangely enough, after that you had become very good friends with him and would have many conversations with him. Knockout would occasionally tease you for it.

Another example was before leaving Cybertron, when Megatron first learned of Dark Energon (unbeknownst to you and Megatron at the time, Starscream already knew of it long before and was attempting to learn more). He privately admitted to you, something you found shocking at the time, that he knew it was unwise to use the Dark Energon due to its unknown and most likely dangerous properties. Yet he felt it necessary to end the war. He, the gladiator, was tired of fighting. It nearly melted your spark and made you want to hug him in order to make him feel better. Then he said that maybe he would finally defeat the "treacherous Optimus Prime," which then caused you to want to call him an idiot since you knew Optimus never betrayed Megatron.

You had mixed emotions like that. If you wanted someone to be the best version of themselves and to be their friend, their flaws and evil mistakes made you upset for that same reason. This mostly fell under your emotions about Megatron or Starscream.

Your thoughts were put to an end when you reached your destination. Without missing a beat, you opened the door and marched right in.

"(Y/n)! Did you need repairs?" Knockout picked up one of the tools he was organizing.

"Hey, Knockout! No. I was wondering if you knew where Starscream was," you explained.

He chuckled, his finish reflecting what little light there was in the room. "Of course you came here to ask where your boyfriend was."

You stiffened. "He's not my boyfriend, we're just friends."

"You could've fooled me." The mech lifted his optic ridge, clearly not convinced.

"Do you know where he is?" You cut to the point again, wanting to leave the awkward conversation.

"I may," he answered wistfully, "but you may have to give me some more buffing solution as payment."

"But I just gave you some yesterday. In fact, I think you almost always get it from me, and I never ask for anything in return. By the time I get you more I'll have to go back to work."

"Just joking. He's heading to the energon supplies to check inventory." Knockout didn't even give you a glance as he picked up a buffer in the corner and spun the correct pad onto it. "Make sure you remember to propose to him."

"Knockout," you drew out his name in annoyance, almost out the door.

"Just kidding."

You rolled your eyes, mentally forgave him, and bolted to the direction of the energon stock. The clanging of your pedes hitting the floor slowed and came to a halt when the entrance was just on your right.

"Starscream?" You stuck your helm in and searched. Finally, your optics locked onto the thin seeker, with sharp features and expressive wings. He looked to you with surprise, his long digit hovering over the control panel that contained information on how much energon there was, how much was used in the previous month, and the chart of how much energon was found compared to other points throughout time on Earth.

"(Y/n)? Aren't you supposed to be organizing files right now?" He inquired.

"I was done early." You hopped into the room as the door slid closed behind you. It was now dark, except for the illumination from the energon. The way it dimly shown on him and cast shadows on the edges of his figure made him look even more attractive. You shifted and swatted away the thoughts in your head.

"So, what are you up to?"

"Nothing much," he groaned, waving his servo. "I was simply accessing the inventory to find if we had enough and needed to lower rations."

"Hmm. From what I read in reports, it's getting harder to find energon, but we found a good stock recently."

"Yes. I saw that on the chart." He nodded to the glowing screen.

Before you could stop yourself, you began admiring his wings. Then your gaze shifted to a part that wasn't quite as smooth as the rest.

"What's that scratch on your wing?" You exclaimed when you finally noticed it.

He bit his lip, looked to it, and shrugged. "I flew too low and my wing got clipped by a tree."

Studying the scrapes, you delicately traced your fingers on it. He winced in pain and reached to shove it away, but stopped when you flinched away on your own after seeing his reaction.

Letting, your servo fall softly onto the undamaged surface. His wings relaxed in please and a smile crept onto his face. You gently rubbed the spot below it and held his jaw with your other servo. He seemed to melt at your touch and closed his optics. His arms snaked their way around your waist.

His optics flickered open again and stared at you with an emotion you had never seen present in them before... love. Without thinking or even considering the consequences of it, you began to close the distance between your lips and his. However you were cut off when light filled the room coming from the door.

You both turned your heads to see who it was. The expectation was that it was just a vehicon, however it was anyone but a simple minion. It was Megatron himself.

You both stepped back. What was he doing there? He was probably either looking for you or Starscream. You passed some vehicons on the way, so he could have definitely inquired where you were from them, if you were indeed the one he was seeking to find.

When he noticed you and Starscream together, and not just that, but that you were having... erm, a moment, his face twisted from a hurt shocked to anger.

"What have we here?" He marched in, servos behind his back. The door closed, blocking the light once more. You weren't exactly sure why he was so furious, he had never been that mad at you before.

"Well," Starscream stumbled on his words and shrunk back. "You see-"

"Trying to steal yet another thing from me!" He exploded at the seeker. He took the second in command's neck in his hand and held him in the air.

"Megatron! What are you doing?!" It made no sense, why he was just suddenly deciding to kill Starscream. Had he tried to kill him recently? What did he mean 'steal'?

"What are you... Talking... About?" Starscream gasped with his legs dangling.

"(Y/n)," he turned to you. You flinched back, yet noticed how his voice was softer. "Be my sparkmate."

This thoroughly confused you and sent a chill through your frame. "What?! No."

A mix of despair, anger, and desperation showed on his faceplate.

Deciding to elaborate you started carefully, "Why? I thought we were just friends. I thought of us as just friends." You had nothing against him. You cared about him, but never thought of it in a different way. Perhaps you could have explained more, although in your baffled state, you couldn't get out much.

"Those years in space," the leader of the Decepticons began, "it was so lonely I once thought I would lose my mind. The only two things that kept me going and what made me able to live after every near-death experience are my desire to extinguish Optimus and to be with you. You somehow make everything better and chase away darkness and solitude." A blade launched from above his hand and he aimed it for the dangling Cybertronian in his hand. "I want you to always be by my side. Be my sparkmate, or Starscream dies."

You couldn't believe it, well, maybe you could considering how violent he was and how many other times he came close to killing Starscream. The Decepticon leader had even expressed fear you'd leave him for someone else before. Yet, you had assumed that it was platonic and never guessed this would happen.

"Please," you pleaded, "Don't terminate him. I know you have kindness in your spark, and it is not weakness, it is a virtue. Please. Starscream has always been useful to you. For me?" You held your servos together, your sad optics sparkled.

This seemed to make him consider, as he started to reflect your sadness then shook it away. Replaced with anger of how greatly you cared for his second in command that seemed to undermine everything he did. "No. Only if you become my sparkmate."

The seeker decided to take matters into his own servos and aimed the red missile on his arm while distracted. Megatron noticed and tore it and the other off and let then drop to the floor with Starscream wailing in pain.

You shook your head in horror, still in disbelief of what was happening. "Why are you doi-"

"I CAN'T LOSE YOU TO STARSCREAM!" He raised the sword. "And now he won't keep you from me anymore!"

"NO!" You screamed. Panic surged through you. This couldn't happen, you couldn't lose Starscream. You just couldn't. You didn't want him to die. If he were to die, you would never see or talk to him again, and it was something you could never afford.

Without thinking, you lunged forward and converted your servo to a blade. Only focusing on saving Starscream, you slashed at the one threatening his well-being.

Then time slowed. Your optics widened. You stumbled back with energon stained on the sharp edge. Megatron opened his mouth, yet nothing came out as his grip loosened and he fell to the ground. His helm nearly falling off of his body, with almost all severed off. Your mouth hung open watching the glowing blue liquid puddle onto the floor, seeming to form a lake. He gave the saddest look you've ever seen, making you want to scream as he seemed to stare right into your spark, before his scarlet optics flickered and the life faded from them.

Then the gravity of what you did. You stared at the blade, then your dead friend.

"NO! What am I doing? Why did I want to hurt you?!" You screamed. Switching back to your hand, feeling the energon drip into your parts, as you ran forward and held Megatron. You answered your own questioned, "It was to save Starscream, but why did you make me do that?! I didn't wanna hurt you. I'm supposed to be a friend, be nice. I just wanna... wanted to be your friend." You changed the word since Megatron was now no more. You wrapped your armed around him in a hug. Overcome by grief. Then anger resurfaced.

"Stupid head! Why do you have to be like this? Why do you have to be an evil overlord? I wanted to be friends. I care about you!" Then you sank back into sadness.

With a sigh, you attempt to pull yourself together. He was set to the side and you stood up, energon dripping off of you.

This whole time, Starscream, who had crawled away when he was first released, watched you. He really had no idea what to do or how to help you. All he knew was that you probably needed to be left alone at that moment, thus he stood there. Although he was flattered that you, as a pacifist, would kill to save him, he hated that you were unhappy. He waited until a few nanoklicks after you stood in silence.

"All hail Starscream?" He hesitantly questioned, his wings giving a shrug. He clearly didn't want to bother you in such an emotional state, although still desired to know if he'd be leading the Decepticons.

With a small smile creeping to your lips, you nodded while trying to move on from what happened. "Yes. All hail Starscream."

#megatron x reader #starscream x reader #megatron x reader x starscream #tfp x reader #TFP #Transformers Prime #Starscream #Megatron #angst #tw death

177 notes · View notes

cocochannel00 · 4 years ago

Text

Things that Husband!Harry would definitely do (a thread)

(If you don’t think that Tiny Desk Harry doesn’t give off mad husband!harry vibes - he looks so fluffy- then we can’t be friends)

- He’d sneak into your room the night before the wedding because he missed you even though he knows its bad luck and when you’re mad at him for it he would just smile and place a kiss on your forehead and say “I don’t need any luck, I just need you”

- At your wedding reception he would walk around the room introducing you to everyone as “my wife” as if they didn’t already know who you were

- During your wedding dinner he’d spend the whole night whispering dirty jokes in your ear trying to make you laugh because he knew that even though it was your wedding day you were still spooked by all of the attention

- On your first year anniversary Harry wanted to surprise you by making you breakfast in bed so he started making pancakes as you slept. You woke up to the sound of your fire alarm going off and Harry blowing the smoke off a pan with a pillow. He’d give you a sheepish smile before mumbling a “maybe we get takeout this year?”

- During the holidays he’d hang mistletoe all around your house and force you to kiss him at every one. “Look love it’s mistletoe, you know what that means” he’d state with a grin. “Harry I just kissed you literally 2 minutes ago in the other room” you’d grumble “Doesn’t matter love, it’s mistletoe and those are the rules. Now come here and kiss your husband”

- Anytime the two of you would get into any sort of major fight where you would say “I hate you” he would shoot back “Well I love you so I guess you’re stuck with me” before going to sulk on the couch

- Whenever you went to his shows or stayed with him on tour he would force you to sit back stage and watch him from the wings so he could watch your reaction to his corny jokes and steal a kiss from you in between sets and on his bathroom breaks

- You agreed to be the designated drive for your group for a night out so Harry gets drunk and becomes extra clingy. He spends the entire night stuck to your side, shoving his face in your neck whispering “I’m going to marry you one day” to which you’d remind him quietly that you were already married. He’d then nod thoughtfully and mumbled “Well then I’m going to marry you again just in case”

- One night you would be tossing and turning in bed unable to sleep and you would accidentally wake up Harry. You’d apologies because you knew he had to wake up early the next day, but he would just shush you with a quick peck before repositioning you so that you could lay your head on his chest. He’d then softly start humming the tune to one of the new songs he was working on until you’d fall asleep

- Harry would convince you that he was capable of building the Ikea coat rack the two of you had bought for your new home on his own so you’d go into the room next door to take a nap. When you woke up and hour later you found him laying on the floor facetiming Mitch as he tried to figure out why the last piece wasn’t fitting properly only for you to look at it and realize he had built half of it backwards

- Harry would come home late from one his movie shoots and would mumble a quick hello as he walked in through the door. You’d be sitting on the couch watching and episode of Dateline and he would throw himself next to you and lay his head on your lap. You’d start running your hands through his hair as you finished watching the last couple of minutes of the episode before asking Harry how his day was only to realize he had passed out on your lap and was now quietly snoring, a small trail of drool slowly coming out of his mouth

- The next season of your favorite show Handmaid’s Tale had come out so you and Harry started watching it. Every five minutes Harry would ask you a question about the show until mid way through you looked at him and bursted out “Harry if you ask me one more question about the show I’m sending you to our room”. Harry would pout at you and sink into the couch, grumbling about how it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember what happened last season before he shoved some popcorn into his mouth

- You’d need to go shopping at Target one day to get some decorations for your niece's birthday party and Harry would decide to come along. “This is our list Harry, we’re not buying anything that’s not on the list” you’d say in the car before getting out, but it would be hopeless because every other aisle Harry would pick something up and say “babe we need to get this” and you would stare at him and say “is it on the list?” and he would grumble a no before sulking back down the aisle to put it back

- On road trips when he let you pick the music he would grumble when you would change the song every 30 seconds. “Love just choose a song, it’s not that difficult, gave you the bloody playlist” he’d state as you would continue to skip through the songs mumbling “I’m tired of that song though, just wanted to hear the chorus”. “Is that what you do with my songs too, just skip all the good parts to get to the bloody chorus?” he’d ask mockingly as you gave him a sheepish smile and mumbled a “sometimes” before finally picking a song

- It would be nearly 4 am and you would still be awake reading your book in bed as Harry slept soundly next to you. You could feel the tears running down your face as the main character just had their heartbroken and a soft sniffle left your nose which caused Harry to startle awake. “Babe what time is it?” he’d mumble as you continue reading, paying him no mind. He’d turn on his phone and groan as he saw the 4 flash at him before turning to see the tears on your face. “Oh no love did she get her heartbroken again? Sure they’ll get back together by the end” he’d state, knowing this was your third rom-com book of the month. You’d mumble a yes as Harry gently dog eared the page before you could protest. He turned off your lamp before tucking you into his side, pulling the covers up to your chin, letting you crying into his chest over your fictional characters

- You and Harry going to your 15th high school reunion together and he gets jealous when he sees you talking to your ex-boyfriend from when you were 16. He’d come up behind you and wrap an arm around your waist while placing a kiss to the side of your temple before reaching out his free hand to introduce himself. “Hello I’m Harry. The Husband” he’d say as he shook your ex’s hand just a little tighter then necessary

- Harry would be overly invested in your work place gossip so when the two of you would have dinner together he would constantly ask questions about what happened with your coworkers that day. “So did Stacy and Justin get caught yet or does Janet still have no idea? Did Kathleen ever get that promotion? If I ever see Garrett I’m going to punch him”

- He’d force you to wake up early with him so the two of you could workout together in your home gym, but you’d just sit on the floor against the mirror in your workout clothes staring at him. After several attempts at trying to get you to stretch with him he’d give up and say “If you’re not gonna workout at least give me some motivation babe” so he’d do his abs workout in front of you and every time he came up from a sit-up you’d give him a kiss

- Harry would come down with a cold and he would turn into a 5 year old boy and try to milk it for everything it’s worth. “Think the doctor mentioned that cuddles would really help with my headache, love.” “Harry I don’t think that’s what the doctor said” you’d reply as you placed a cold wash cloth on his forehead. “Don’t think I would have forgotten such an important order from her. Now, come here I want to cuddle my wife”

- He’d come home from the studio fidgeting with his beat-up blue iPod in his hand as you were finishing up a quick dinner for the two of you. He would gently place the iPod on the counter next to you as he poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. You’d stare at it for a minute before asking “Is it finished? Can I listen?”. He’d nod before you gave him a quick kiss and took the device to the living room, leaving him there with his thoughts. An hour later you came back into the kitchen, tears streaming down your face as you ran up to hug him. “Liked it?” he’d ask nervously, this being the first time you’d heard the finished album. “Absolutely loved it” you’d whisper back causing Harry to release a deep breath before taking your face in his hands and kissing you roughly

- He’d start every award acceptance speech with “I’d like to first thank my wife for always supporting me” and then try to catch your eye in the crowd, giving you a soft smile that was only meant for you before going on to thank everyone else

- “We need an intervention Harry. Why are your suits in my side of the closet?” you asked as you came down stairs with one of Harry’s Gucci suits. “I was running out of space and I didn’t think you would notice” he replied with a blush. “Well I did so either you move them or I’m throwing them out” “Love but they’re Gucci you can’t just-” “Ah ah ah I don’t care. My side of the closet” you’d state before dropping the suit in his lap and walking back upstairs

So many others come to mind but these are just a couple that came to mind. I’ll probably do a Dad!Harry version at some point as well

#harry styles imagines #harry styles x reader #husband!harry #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic

520 notes · View notes

owl-with-a-pen · 3 years ago

Note

brainy or nia try on karas glasses one day and kara realizes that they were brenda/brandon?

- Oh my god, yes! Thank you for the prompt. x

“No, no,” Alex said decisively. “It’s been years and I still don’t get it. How the hell do glasses make it impossible for people to recognise you? I’d know you from anywhere.”

Nia grinned from across the table, lifting her drink to her lips as Alex pinched Kara’s cheek, only to be batted away by her little sister a second later.

“Okay,” Kara said with a snort. “Your next round is gonna be water shots.” She turned her head from the table, making a show of searching the bar. “Where’s Al?”

“Oh, you know he heads out back the second this party rolls in,” Kelly said with an impish smile, raising her own glass. She took Alex’s hand before she could pester Kara any further, winding their fingers firmly together. “Although, I have to agree with the water.”

“Hydration would appear useful at this stage,” Brainy added with a sage nod. “She may also benefit from lining her stomach with something a little more substantial.”

Nia grinned, leaning back against Brainy’s chest. “Is that your not-so-subtle hint that you want more onion rings?”

She’d perched herself on the edge of Brainy’s stool some time into the evening; her smile widened when she felt his hands link around her front in response. “Sometimes, multiple issues can call for a single solution,” Brainy pointed out, tucking his face into her hair. “What is the saying? Two birds, one stone?” Nia's face warmed when Brainy’s lips traced idly along the side of her jaw.

Kara grinned. “Well, hey, I’m not gonna say no to more onion rings.”

It was fair to say that they’d all had a few drinks between them by now, although Kelly and Alex were strictly drinking from the human menu. Things always got a little whacky with alien grade alcohol, and despite her half-Naltorian genetics, Nia had barely been able to stomach a single sip of Brainy’s drink of choice. It suited his tolerance level far better, and made for a slower automatic response for his body to factor out the alcohol and sober him up. If his sudden confidence with intimacy in a public environment was anything to go by, Nia figured it was definitely working.

Nia knew Kara was drinking something similar to Brainy, although her Kryptonian biology made her far more resilient against its contents. She wasn’t even slurring.

Meanwhile, Nia was feeling all kinds of warm inside. Although, Brainy’s hold on her was probably a major factor in that.

It had felt like forever since they’d last gone out like this, and from the recent stress they’d all been under, it wasn’t exactly surprising that they’d found their way to Al’s bar. Plus, after the number of times they’d saved this place from one catastrophe or another, they got some incredibly generous discounts even on some of the rarer beverages. It was just unfortunate that Alex’s human tolerance really wasn’t matching up. And, considering Kelly was still on her first drink, she was currently the only person everyone was sorely worried about getting home safely that night.

With that in mind, Nia was just about to suggest heading up to the bar to go order, when Alex made her move, whipping her hand out quick enough to snatch Kara’s glasses straight from her face, balancing them across her nose.

She turned to Kelly immediately, staring at her levelly. “Well?” she asked expectantly. "How do I look?”

“It’s like looking at a total stranger,” Kelly deadpanned. She smirked, leaning in closer. “Although, they do make you kinda mysterious.”

Alex’s smile broadened. “Oh really?”

“My turn!” Nia chirped, plucking the glasses from Alex’s face. She rested her elbows on the table, propping her chin up with her hands the moment she had the glasses on. She narrowed her eyes, testing out her new perspective. As anticlimactic as it was, nothing really changed. It was just like staring through two pieces of clear glass. Nia pouted. She supposed it wasn't unexpected - that was exactly what she was doing, after all.

“It’s weird being able to see clearly while wearing someone’s else’s glasses,” Nia mused, playing around with the glasses’ temples, wiggling them up and down in front of her face. “Has anyone who didn’t know your secret ever done this before?” She jerked her head up, snapping her fingers. “Ooh, I know, I bet you just tell them you both need the same prescriptions. Am I right, or am I right?”

Kara didn’t answer.

“...Kara?”

When Nia turned, she realised that Kara was staring directly at her, a half-stunned daze in her eyes.

“What, did the alcohol finally kick in?” Nia prodded good-naturedly, only for Kara to reach out suddenly, taking the glasses away from her. “Hey! I was using those!”

Kara remained silent. Instead, with unnerving intensity, she came forward, slipping the glasses onto Brainy’s face. Brainy jerked from the unexpected contact, lifting them away from his nose as though they'd burned. He blinked quickly in affront, eyeing Kara suspiciously. “What was that for?” he asked.

“It was you two,” Kara said mildly; her voice sounded far too calm for comfort, like she was on the verge of a full-blown freak out. “All those years ago, in Midvale. It was you.”

Nia spluttered at the exact same moment as Brainy. She snapped her head towards him desperately. “What?” she asked, registering the panic in Brainy’s eyes that she knew was reflected identically in her own. “No—what—no?” She dug her hand into her boyfriend’s shoulder, squeezing tight. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“I have no idea what you are- what she’s talking about-” Brainy snorted defensively. “Do-do you?”

Nia nudged him nervously, eyes wide. “I just said I didn’t, genius.”

“...Right,” Brainy said quickly, clearing his throat. He raised his voice, turning back to Kara. “Two admissions though! Thus further proving that we have no idea what you are talking—”

But, Kara was still staring, a cold glare of certainty in her eyes. “I’d know that scrambling for an excuse anywhere,” she said, taking Brainy’s hands and guiding the glasses back into place over the bridge of his nose. She met no resistance this time, Brainy was far too busy gaping at her. “Brendan.” She turned to Nia accusingly. “Brenda.” Her lips split into a pained smile. “Rao- I thought you two were hiding something, but I was willing to accept it, because... I thought you were lost.”

“In our defence, we sorta were,” Nia admitted sheepishly. “The crash wasn’t part of the plan.”

It was Brainy’s turn to nudge her. “Nia.”

“Give it up, Brainy.” Nia cringed. “We’re caught.”

Kara ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head in bewilderment. “What were you guys even doing there? When did this even happen for you?”

“When you were in the Phantom Zone,” Nia said slowly, ducking her head.

“We needed your DNA,” Alex said softly. It sounded as though the recent commotion had done a good job at sobering her up. “To track you down.”

“It was thanks to these two that we were able to save you at all,” Kelly added.

Something crossed Kara’s expression then, but it was so quick that Nia barely caught it. All she knew was that in that moment, Kara looked entirely vulnerable. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked weakly.

Brainy swallowed hastily. “Had you known our true identities in 2009, it would have caused ramifications in the timeline that could have irrevocably changed the future.”

“I don’t mean then,” Kara said sharply, attention snapping to Brainy. Her expression fell. “Why not when I came back?”

“It didn’t seem… necessary,” Brainy said uncomfortably. Nia felt his grip tighten back around her and ran her hand across his arm, squeezing gently.

Kara scoffed, folding her arms. “Not necessary? You guys were in my past—you saved my life, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“So much happened,” Nia said carefully. “Kara, we didn’t want to stress you out any more than you already had been.”

“Come here,” Kara said suddenly.

Nia blinked her surprise, catching Brainy’s eyes quickly for confirmation. Hesitantly, Brainy nodded, unlocking his arms from around Nia’s waist. Nia slipped from the stool, stepping towards her alongside Brainy.

They stared at her unsurely for all of two seconds before Kara came forward, swooping them both into the most intense super hug Nia thought either of them had ever experienced.

Nia gasped for breath, wrapping her free arm automatically around Kara’s back. The brush of Brainy’s fingers confirmed to her that he had done just the same.

“I never thought I’d get a chance to say this,” Kara murmured into the space between them. “But, thank you. Both of you, for everything that you did.”

“For... saving your life?” Brainy asked, voice muffled with confusion. “You’re... very welcome?”

Kara laughed, pressing her face into his hair. “Not that. Okay, well, of course that. But,” She sighed, drawing away again, her hands still locked tightly against each of their arms, “you both came to me at a time where I was questioning so much. My future, my identity, my place on Earth. I was hurting, in more ways I ever let on. And without you two—I don’t know what I might have done differently.”

Nia smirked. “Wait…” She turned her head towards Brainy. “Does that mean we were always meant to travel back to 2009?”

“Pre-destined time travel.” Brainy pondered on that thought for a long moment, his lips twitching into a smile of his own. He shrugged. “I suppose stranger things have happened.”

“You did crash, though,” Alex pointed out from across the table.

Brainy shot her a glare.

“Destiny,” Kelly cut in, sighing dreamily. “I like that, though.”

Nia knocked Brainy’s arm playfully. “Just like how you coming to this time gave you the chance to live freely. With us.” Nia squeezed her boyfriend's hand secretively before she turned back to Kara, smile softening. “Maybe we gave that same chance to you, too.”

“Thank you,” Kara said again. She blinked, wiping quickly at her face where tears were near approaching. “I- I don’t even think just saying that cuts it.”

Nia's smile widened mischievously. “Hey, does that mean the next round isn’t on us?”

Brainy raised a finger in consideration. “I believe tap water is on the house, anyway.”

“Hey, no water,” Alex shot back. “And you guys are not getting out of shots that easily.”

They all laughed at that. And, just like that, Nia felt as though an invisible tension that had been tethering them together had finally loosened.

She smiled as she re-joined her family back at the table, hand-in-hand with Brainy.

For the first time in a long time, it really felt like everything was going to be okay.

94 notes · View notes

aellynera · 4 years ago

Text

Goddess (Orestes x Reader)

GODDESS

(Hi. I wrote an Orestes story - it started as a joke about the way Apocalypse says “my goddess”, and then I was like “oh man I want Orestes to call me his goddess” and then as usual, I don’t know how, but this happened. It’s rather different than most things I write, but I quite enjoyed writing it and I hope you like it. Comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!)

Word Count: ~4400

Summary: Orestes is a constant in your life and has a particular way of constantly reminding you.

Warnings: Mentions of character death (briefly described but not graphically.) Implied female reader. Definite probable historical inaccuracies taken for poetic license and dramatic effect. ANGST (I made myself cry while I was writing this.) Christians doing morally void but historically accurate things. Fictional timelines.

When you are four years old, your parents leave everything they’ve built in Rome - their jobs in the palace, their lives in the city, your father’s position on the council -upon the orders of the Emperor and move to Alexandria. Your father’s new role is to assist in turning that city into a bastion of the Empire, to help strengthen the government and support the supremacy of Rome. Your mother is to be a gentle guide to the women, in hearth and home and higher society. And because you are theirs, you go with them.

They meet with the prefect upon your arrival and he welcomes your family. He is bright and cheerful, yet loud and pompous and booming, stern but wise, and while he is a kind man, his volume frightens you. You cower behind your mother’s skirts, steadfastly clinging to her and refusing to join in any pleasantries.

Another woman suddenly appears, a small boy with curly hair and bright dark eyes holding her hand. The boy regards you curiously and asks why you won’t come out and say hello. His mother tells him you’re shy, while your mother encourages you to release your death grip on her gown. Finally, after much coaxing, you relent and she pushes you gently towards the little boy.

His mother says you should go play in the garden while the grown-ups talk, and he reaches a tiny hand out to you, wide-eyed and smiling. His name is Orestes, and he is six.

And when you take his hand with a shy little smile, his voice comes out as a whisper and tells you he thinks you’re a goddess, and he drags you towards the garden to show you the little blue flowers that dot the grass, and you believe him.

***

When you are eight years old, one day you finish your chores early and decide to spend your extra time in the yard, weaving some wildflowers together into a chain while the mid-afternoon sun warms your shoulders.

You are quite happy to be alone and not around the grown-ups for now; they’re so loud, sometimes too loud. You crave the quiet, seek it out often, and you bask in it.

Until a rush of dark curls and bright eyes tears past your house, into your yard, and grabs you by the hand, knocking your flower chain carelessly to the ground. He insists you come play with him on the hill nearby and with a squeal of indignation, you let yourself be dragged along behind him.

Your ire over the discarded flower chain is soon forgotten as your squeals become laughter as you roll and roll down the hill together, grass and dirt sticking to your robes and tufts sticking to his unruly curls.

When you tell him he looks silly, he tells you he doesn’t, and you insist that he does and he protests that he doesn’t. And so it goes back and forth and back again, until you push him or he pushes you or someone pushes the other and you both go tumbling down that hill, end over head over feet, your descent only stopped by a patch of mud at the bottom.

He might be the son of the prefect, and he might be your best friend, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t an enormous brat sometimes.

For a minute you’re both panting and red-faced and near tears, until he starts to giggle and you can’t help but join in, and only laugh harder at his outraged gasp when you hit him square in the chest with a chunk of mud.

And on the way back to your house, when you’re worrying your bottom lip thinking on how to explain to your mother why you’re covered in dead grass and damp bits of dirt, your robes most likely ruined, he tells you with the kind of confidence only possessed by a boy of ten years that everything will be fine, because you are a goddess and brave and strong, and you believe him.

***

When you are twelve years old, you hear of the school that Hypatia is running, because Orestes tells you about it when he starts going. You don’t like that he’s doing something without you. You don’t like being left behind and left out and you want to go to this school too.

Your mother would easily say yes, but your father is reluctant, and it’s not that he thinks a woman shouldn’t learn philosophy and how to read and do arithmetic; it’s more that enough other people in the city do think like this and he is convinced it will not be safe for you.

You care little for your safety. All you want, all you desire, is to be part of this group of scholars and to go to this school and learn. And what danger can possibly be there, when a woman is the one in charge?

So you beg and plead and bargain with your father, until a boy - now a young man - with curls like nighttime and eyes nearly as dark and twinkling with stars, steps in and says he’ll watch over you during your classes, and your father gives his permission. And so you start attending Hypatia’s school.

And when the older boys, boys who were nearly men and should know better, start to bully and deride you for desiring knowledge, when they taunt you and steal your scrolls and yank the ribbons from your hair, he steps in and tells them in no uncertain terms to leave you alone. Neither of your fathers, especially his, are particularly thrilled with the tussles he gets in on your behalf, or the black eye that one petulant snipe Cyrus gives him when he connects a punch when Orestes isn’t properly paying attention.

You frown at him as he sits in a chair next to the washbasin, a clean wet cloth clutched in your hand. He winces as you clean the blood from his cheek and gingerly probe the bruise swelling around his eye.

And when you softly ask why he’d do such a stupid thing, he tells you that even a goddess needs a hero to protect them sometimes, and even though you think him entirely ridiculous and heat comes unbidden to your cheeks, it makes you giddy to believe him.

***

When you are sixteen years old, you watch the boy with the wild ebony curls and liquid chocolate eyes fall in love with a girl. Only it isn’t a girl, it’s a woman, and you realize he’s been doing it for years.

Ever since your first day in the new city, he has always been by your side and you by his, an inseparable duo. You thought that would never change, but here you are, finding yourself forced to watch your best friend slowly but surely let his heart be ensnared by your very own teacher.

All he can talk about now, it seems, is Hypatia and her philosophies; Hypatia and her scrolls and the amazing things she is currently reading; Hypatia and her outlandish theories on the universe and the stars. Always Hypatia, all things Hypatia.

You never knew you could hate someone as amazing and wonderful as Hypatia.

It doesn’t seem to matter that his attentions are not equally returned, that she never fully indulges his lovesick whims and overreaching attempts to gain her attention. She continues to treat him as a student, and outside of class possibly even as a dear friend, and he continues to pine.

One afternoon you’re among the stacks of scrolls at the library, trying to find the parchment necessary to complete an assignment Hypatia has given you. You honestly would rather not find it and not even bother finishing your assigned work right now, and you must have some kind of look on your face because he takes the scroll you’re clutching from your hand and leads you to a mostly hidden nook in the room. And he stops talking about Hypatia for a moment to ask you what is wrong.

You want to tell him you miss him, that you want him back, that he’s making a mistake, but you can’t, you don’t. It takes a bit more coaxing, but you finally tell him you’re lonely and you wish there was someone you could find, someone you had to love as much as he had his person, he smiles and tells you that one day you will, because you’re a goddess and the right person will be pulled to the love and light you always emit. You smile back weakly and blink and look away and you want nothing more than to believe him.

***

When you are twenty years old, the library at Alexandria is destroyed.

It happens on a sunny afternoon not unlike so many others that have passed before, when suddenly the doors are broken down and the Christians rush in and the chaos ensues.

You’re sitting at a table with a quill in your hand, carefully writing your thoughts on a piece of parchment, when you hear the shouting in the entryway. And before you know what’s going on, shelves are being knocked over, papers tossed into the air like so much confetti, scrolls being thrown left and right. The air is beginning to smell acrid; you can see a few people setting small fires in some of the stacks.

The windows above you shatter as others throw rocks and even a chair, and you look around wildly for a way out. You don’t know which way is the right way to go, or even if there is a right way to go.

Everything is madness.

A pair of arms suddenly shoot out and grab you around the waist and your scream pierces the air like the horn on the top of the lighthouse trying to guide a ship to shore. Instead you realize you’re trying to drive this ship to its ruin, to free yourself from its depths with wildly swinging elbows and kicks, until you hear a familiar voice shouting your name over the ruckus.

You take in your assailant, all frantic curls and impossibly wide, dark eyes, and collapse into him in relief. Orestes tells you that you need to go, you need to get out, and to find both your fathers in the nearby council chambers and they’ll know where to go, where it’s safe. You ask him to come with you, but he shakes his head.

He tells you he needs to help save as many of the books and scrolls as he can, and you tell him to give you all you can carry and when you run, you’ll take them with you. So he loads your arms full to bursting, and when a rock flies by inches from your face and you drop the items at the top of the pile, he ignores that and pushes you roughly in the direction of the side exit. He says you must leave now, and he’ll be behind you before you know it.

He presses his lips to your temple ever so briefly, spares you a pained smile, and says you’re a goddess for the small bit of assistance you are giving.

As you run for safety, or what might be further peril, you spare a glance over your shoulder and see him helping Hypatia grab as much of the library’s contents as they can, and you don’t have another second to spare on deciding whether or not to believe him.

***

When you are twenty four, it’s your wedding day and everyone tells you this will be the most joyous day of your life so far. Your mother helps you dress in the softest, most expensively beautiful gown you’ve ever owned, and one of your sisters weaves a crown of laurels for your hair. Another sister makes a chain of wildflowers to wind around your wrist. You have never felt as beautiful as you do on this day.

Your father comes to the door of the chamber where your preparations are taking place, to let you know that the guests have all arrived and the groom is nearly ready, and it is almost time. He gives you a kiss on both cheeks, a gesture not common from him, and tells you he will be waiting out by the garden gate when you are ready. Your mother and sisters each kiss your cheek and leave as well, giving you a moment to yourself to gather your thoughts and emotionally prepare for the ceremony.

The door opens again a few minutes later and you turn to face the person behind it, Your eyes go wide, confused, as you take in the man before you. His dark curls are smoothed back and elegantly styled, his robes are regal and dashing, and his eyes are bright and nervous.

You tell him he shouldn’t be here.

He tells you that he knows, but he can’t help it, he has to see you. That he has been thinking of you all morning, wondering how beautiful you look, how happy you must be, and he just had to see you before you walk down the aisle to take your vows.

You bite your lip and tell him, again, that he shouldn’t be here and you can’t stop your voice from shaking. You turn your head away and look anywhere but at him.

And he repeats that he knows this, and he knows it’s wrong, it goes against all protocols, but he can’t help himself, can’t stop thinking that this is the last time he’s going to see you, see your smile and maybe hear your laugh, might be the last time your eyes can gaze upon each other and the last time he can hold you in his arms as his best friend.

You can’t think of a single thing to say to him, and even if you could, you’re certain your body will not cooperate.

Because he is not the one you are marrying. No, this marriage was arranged by your father and the Emperor, and there is the overwhelming chance that you must go back to Rome, and if you and your new husband leave Alexandria it is not likely you will ever return.

This might be the last time he can tell you that you shine with a light brighter than all the heavens, that you are beautiful and he hopes you will be happy, and you truly are a goddess among mortals.

And so Orestes does. He kisses you softly on your forehead, staying there a bit longer than propriety suggests, and quietly slips from the room. And you can’t see for the tears swimming in your eyes, and you want with all your heart to believe him, but you can’t help but find his words hollow and realize this will be far from the greatest day of your life.

***

When you are barely turned twenty-five, there is a knock on your door in the middle of the night. Perhaps knock is not the correct word, it’s more of an insistent pounding, and you swear under your breath at what could possibly be so important to rouse you out of bed at this unacceptable hour.

You pull a robe over your nightdress and open the door, and all the air leaves your lungs.

Four centurions are standing on your stoop, with a man who looks vaguely familiar; is he a general, maybe, or a captain? You can’t remember where you’ve seen him before, but it doesn’t matter, when he greets you solemnly and begins to speak, and tells you that your husband will not be returning from the front.

You did not return to Rome, as had originally been decreed. You stayed in Alexandria after your marriage because skirmishes had broken out along a few of the empire’s borders, and your new husband was called to action to fight for his ruler and the kingdom. Deep down, you could not have been more glad of it, for though you were born there, Rome had not been your home for over twenty years, and starting a new life there with a new husband would not have made it any more so.

Your knees give out from under you and you consider for a moment that you should be crying, but you aren’t really sad and it strikes you as odd, but you can’t force the tears to come. You love your husband, in a way, but you’re not sad that he won’t be coming home. You’re relieved, and the instant that thought hits you and sends a jolt through your body, you start to laugh. The general, or captain, or whoever he is and his guards look at each other, then at you, and back to each other in utter confusion as you continue to giggle.

It all happens in mere seconds, and you’re sinking to the stone floor beneath, and a very familiar voice, one you have not heard since the day you were wed, tells the guards to stand aside and strong arms catch you before you can tumble completely.

His hair is wild and curly like he was just pulled out of bed himself, and his dark eyes shine with worry and compassion, and he asks you if you’re alright, and this is what finally breaks you from your laughter and brings wetness to your eyes.

Orestes holds you as you cry into his chest and you don’t see the pointed look he gives to the captain and the guards, nor do you see them pull back enough to close the door and wait outside.

You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor in the front hall, or how you’ve possibly gotten his robes that soggy, but eventually you calm and the thoughts roll through your brain again. You are crying because someone has died, you realize this is true even if you’re not so very sad it was your husband. You’re crying because it was your husband and now there will be the mourning period you must dutifully attend as a grieving widow. And now that you’re a widow, eventually you will be expected to take another husband, if one even dares to want you.

And you’re crying because the one reason you were glad to stay in this forsaken city - in the Alexandria which had become your home - the one reason you hoped every day to lay eyes on again and every night resigned that you never would, was suddenly here, his arms wrapped around you and his voice whispering words of comfort into your hair.

You’re not sure when he picks you up and carries you back to your bed, carefully laying you on your pillows and pulling the sheet up to cover your shoulders. You’re not sure how long he stays, holding your hand and brushing stray tendrils of hair from your face. And you’re not sure how long you drift in and out, emotional exhaustion finally catching up and pulling you into nothingness, but before you fade out completely, you feel his thumb gently brush the remaining tears from your cheek, and feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead as he calls you a goddess and tells you to rest.

And as you finally give yourself to the twilight, you aren’t sure if you imagined it, but you choose to believe him, and you cling to it.

***

You’re not sure when it happens, to be honest. Time starts to blend together after that, you just know that you’re older and that it happens, and it isn’t right and it isn’t moral and it isn’t fair. Not to anyone involved, not to the city, not at all.

Hypatia has died, been murdered in the temple at the hands of those who profess themselves to be righteous saviors, brutally stoned and ripped apart as she stood there, proud and defiant to the end. How anyone could do such a thing to another human, especially one such as her, is beyond your comprehension.

It only gets worse when they burn her corpse on a pyre in effigy in the middle of the agora.

Word comes to you of the horrible events, and your first instinct is to find him, the way he found you, came to you when word of your husband’s death made its way back to the city. You set down the parchment you’re scribbling on the desk in your room and grab a dark cloak, partly to conceal yourself and party to ward off the slight chill from the wind.

You make your way to the prefect’s palace but you’re turned away at the gate by pair of surly-looking guards, and giving your name, and then your father’s name, and then the fact that your father reports directly to Rome makes no difference to them. They have been told to let no one in, and let no one out.

No one except the person you’re looking for, apparently, because somewhere in the aftermath you discover that Orestes is nowhere to be found.

No one knows where he’s gone, and no one knows when he left, just that it was sometime between Hypatia being murdered and the fake funeral pyre. He had words with Cyril, someone told you, and then after that, no one knows.

And the Christians take over the city, much like the library so many years ago, and more people are burned at the stake, more people are murdered, more progress is halted, all in the name of what is right and what is true.

They will kill you, too, if they find you, or find out you’re looking for Orestes. It’s been years since you’ve really been in his presence in anything but the smallest of ways, especially in public, but you know there are still enough people who know how close you were. And if they know you used to be close, you know they won’t hesitate to come after you the same way they came for the philosopher.

So you make inquiries as discreetly as possible, ask the gossips that litter the merchants’ stalls in the most innocent way possible, like you’re just a curious citizen asking what’s happened to the rule of order in the city. You even ask your father, once, but he doesn’t reply and his stony gaze makes you certain to never ask again.

And you bury yourself in scrolls and reading, in star charts and theories; in anything, really, that will take your mind off everything that is happening and your lost prefect. Your lost friend, your best friend.

The man you truly love, even if it’s taken you years of self-doubt and missed chances to fully realize and admit it, and now, perhaps do something about it.

One day as you’re sitting at your desk, quill in hand and head in the clouds, you think of something. Something that may be nothing, but it comes to you in a flash and you have an idea of where to go, where to find him, somewhere that few others might know.

You carefully pack a bag with some clothes and supplies, and a crudely drawn map that you sketch from memory and hope you’ve gotten right. It’s been so long since you were there but you’re fairly sure you remember the way. You know that Orestes would remember.

A long day’s journey and a fitful night’s sleep take you into the next day, and the afternoon turns into dusk when the hillside comes into view. It is not the same hill you tumbled down more than once when the two of you got into a scrum, but it’s the one that you would go when you could both sneak away and no one would notice for a few days, and you’d stare at clouds by day and the stars by night.

There is an outcropping set back from the hill, in the base of the mountains nearby, that a person wouldn’t see if they didn’t know where to look. You’d found it one day during a particularly vicious thunderstorm and taken refuge in the cave there, and you’d both commented on how someone had clearly found it once before you, for it was somewhat set up as a living space, with some mats and blankets and a few rations left on makeshift shelves. Anytime you were on these excursions and it would rain, or you simply wanted to be out of the sun, that was where you would go.

And you hope against hope that this is where your answer lies.

You crest the hill and make your way to the foot of the mountain and you can’t help but smile, just a little, thinking this is where he would have gone, should have gone, as his name means of the mountains. In his abandonment, his escape from the city, could he have taken it literally? You’ve known him so long and it feels like the kind of thing Orestes would do.

The hovel comes into view, and you drop your pack, because he does too. Tending to a fire at the mouth of the cave, his back turned slightly to you, his curls a glorious disaster, and he’s grown a beard since last you’d seen him. It’s a look you’ve not seen on him before, but you quite like it, although you consider for just a moment you’d like any look on him at this moment, because he is real and he is standing right in front of you.

The sound of the pack hitting the ground makes him turn, and his dark eyes shine in the firelight, and he looks at you for long moments but doesn’t say anything. Orestes just stares at you, disbelieving, like you might be some kind of mirage or a trick of the light or even some kind of wicked spirit sent to torment him, and so he just stares.

Until you breathe his name.

He blinks once, and his face is suddenly full of hope and relief, all the tension and disbelief of the previous moments falling away, and your heart soars to the heavens and thumps ever so boldly in your chest, and your smile threatens to crack your lips, and the tears fall freely as words finally leave his mouth.

“My goddess.”

~end~

Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @littlebopper96 @michaelperry @nathan-bateman @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @santiagogarcia @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee2 @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar

>>join my taglist here<<

#orestes #orestes x reader #orestes x you #orestes fanfic #orestes fanfiction #agora fanfic #agora fanfiction #my writing

179 notes · View notes

talatomaz · 4 years ago

Text

crossing paths pt.i | diana prince x lance!reader

a/n: reader has the powers of telekinesis. since this was going to be really long, i decided to split it into two parts. also this may be slightly canon divergent since i’ve not watched flash in a long time.

warnings: mentions of fighting, death

word count: 1.9k

masterlist | request list | request rules

pt.i | pt.ii

reader is sara & laurel’s younger sister who works with team flash. after her and cisco’s experiment goes sideways, she finds herself trapped on an unknown earth not unlike her own

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“You’re absolutely sure this will work, Cisco?”

You asked, tying your hair up into a ponytail whilst the mechanical genius typed on his computer; the keys clacking under his fingertips.

“Yes. 100%. Well, more like 99%. Okay, if we’re being truly honest, then 93%.”

Cisco paused after each figure before turning his head to face you.

“Cisco-“

You started before the former interrupted, “Trust me, y/n. You’ll be fine. You just need to travel there, have a look around and then come straight back. We’ve done it so many times before.”

You and Cisco had been working on modifying the extrapolator your team often used to travel between different Earths. Or rather, you used to use them before the rebirth of the universe following Oliver’s sacrifice.

You cleared your throat at the thought of the vigilante. Having grown up with him and he having dated both of your older sisters meant that he was practically like your brother. And you were broken when you’d lost him so you’d left Team Arrow and came to work with Barry and his team instead.

Working with Team Flash was...different, to say the least. But having known them for several years, you got on well with them all, especially Cisco and Iris.

However, this project you were working on was only known to you and Cisco; the others blissfully unaware, mainly because the two of you knew that if you told them, they’d guilt you into stopping your experiment.

You were the one who had gone to Cisco with the idea in the first place.

After the Crisis, many of you had assumed that everyone solely remained on one Earth however you believed that the multiverse still existed, but that it’d be much harder to access. Cisco had agreed to help you but had explained that he wouldn’t come with you due to his relinquished powers.

So here you were, getting ready to try out the extrapolator in order to confirm or disprove your theory that the multiverse still existed.

“Technically, we haven’t, Cisco. New Earth remember?”

“That’s just semantics.”

“Cisco, if this doesn’t work, you better be ready to explain to my ex-assassin of a sister what happened to me.”

You laughed as his face dropped at the thought of that conversation.

He cleared his throat, “I’ve done all the necessary calculations and made a few needed modifications, including a GPS chip. It’ll work, y/n. Here, take your mask. Just in case.”

He added as an afterthought, handing you the sleek black mask he had designed to disguise your identity.

You put the mask in your jacket and took a deep breath, readying yourself. Holding the extrapolator, you pressed the small button and a familiar portal opened in front of you; variations of colours swirling around the breach.

You looked back at Cisco and feigned seriousness, “If I die, I’m going to kill you.”

His eyes widened making you smile, “Be safe, Cisco. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, you then stepped into the inter-dimensional breach.

***

“Okay, hopefully this worked.”

The breach closed behind you as you stepped into an alley; the several dumpsters providing some form of protection from anyone who may have seen you.

Wherever you were, it was bright and sunny.

Pocketing the extrapolator, you stepped out of the alley and walked down the paved sidewalk, listening for any indications of where you were from passersby.

You continued walking until you came across a newsstand that looked fairly out of place in this seemingly technological environment.

You stopped, peering at the front cover of one of the magazines.

The words “DAILY PLANET” were printed on the top of the paper. You reached down and picked it up, flicking through the pages, pausing when you saw a familiar name on the byline.

Folding the paper back into its original state, you placed it back on the stand, flashing a kind but brief smile to the newsagent who looked at you with intrigue.

Although you didn’t know what Earth you were on, at least you knew you were in Metropolis.

A place you had visited several times since the rebirth of the universe.

A place that, despite whatever Earth, was always home to one Clark Kent, better known as Superman.

You pondered in your thoughts for a little while longer before deciding to venture out and explore the city, eager to find any similarities or differences between your Earth and this one.

You ended up in a museum.

You weren’t sure exactly how you’d gotten there, having followed wherever your feet had taken you but, nevertheless, you were here.

Whilst you were never a huge fan of museums, you’d often found yourself being dragged to them by Laurel when you were younger.

There was something about them that she’d loved.

She tried explaining it to you once.

How the beauty of art told a story or something.

You didn’t really pay much attention and who could have blamed you? You were only 10 years old. You’d rather be out playing or hanging out with your friends than spending your Saturday afternoon in a stuffy old museum.

But this place was anything but.

In truth, you knew that you sought solace in places like these during times of distress or uncertainty.

It gave you a chance to feel closer to your sister after the world had cruelly taken her away from you. Even on another Earth, you still found peace and felt her presence next to you.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging before tensing once more, feeling someone behind you.

You never used to be so on edge.

When you were younger, you lived such a care free life, never feeling any need to be concerned or cautious.

But that had changed quickly.

Soon you had been thrust into the vigilante life, more determined than ever to become like your sisters and help them fight crime.

In fact, you had learned to fight from a reluctant Sara.

After several arguments about the danger of her world, she’d come to accept that there was no changing your mind and had decided that if you were going to purposely put yourself in harm’s way, you needed to be prepared. She had put you through vigorous training which Oliver soon picked up with you after Sara had been recruited to form the Legends.

So, suffice it to say, you were well-versed in the forms of self-defence and were constantly on the lookout for any form of danger.

And being on a different Earth certainly warranted your caution.

“How are you liking our exhibit?”

A feminine voice said, her voice thick with an accent you couldn’t distinguish.

Turning with a smile, you spoke, “It’s beautiful. I never used to appreciate art but now I find myself lost in the works of Rembrandt or Claude Monet.”

“Ah yes. They were most excellent artists.”

You blinked, not at her words but at her face.

The woman who stood before you was, quite simply put, the most beautiful person you’d ever seen in your life.

Realising you were staring, you cleared your throat, “Yes, I agree.”

You opened your mouth to say something else - what, you weren’t sure of - when you closed it again having spotted a man who’d just entered the room which held the small exhibit.

The figure wore a black cap, obstructing his face, his eyes darting around before landing on another male situated in one of the corners of the room. The latter gave him a brief nod which the other returned. Discreetly glancing at them, you noticed familiar bulges beneath their shirt, surely holding a gun.

“Okay, don’t be alarmed but I think this place is about to get robbed.” You said in a hushed whisper, faking interest in another piece of art beside you.

You noted the small but discernible flicker in the woman’s eyes, her name still unknown to you.

“How-“

“Let’s just say I’m perceptive. Do me a favour and take out your phone.”

You waited until the brunette had followed your instructions.

“Pretend to be talking to someone and walk out the room. They’re not going to do anything until you’re gone because they don’t want to run the risk of you warning someone.”

She nodded at your words and proceeded to carry out your plan.

You fought the look of surprise and confusion that surely would’ve shown on your face at the lack of fear on hers. Instead, her eyes seemed to hold a look of determination.

Determined to do what, you weren’t sure of.

Once she had left, your suspicions were confirmed when the two men simultaneously took out their guns and shouted.

“Everybody down on the ground. Now!”

Screams and shouts were let out by the small group of citizens in the room, replacing the quiet bustle of hushed whispers that had previously filled the air.

As everyone immediately fell to the ground, you slid down the wall until you were in an upright position.

You watched as they removed several of the smaller pieces of art, carefully placing them in a duffel bag. You waited until they grew closer to you before standing up causing both of their guns to be aimed at you.

“Sit back down or you’ll get a bullet in your pretty little head.”

They both moved to stand in front of you, blocking you from the view of the security cameras and the people behind them. Using your powers, you pulled the guns toward you and flung them to the far side of the room.

You took advantage of their momentary confusion and kicked both of them. One of them grabbed you from behind, his tight grip trapping your arms. You raised your legs and caged the other’s neck between them.

Twisting your legs, you threw him to the ground and then drew yourself closer into your captor’s arms, lifting off the ground for a brief second before throwing him over your shoulders and onto the ground beside the other intruder.

“Run!”

You yelled to the handful of citizens who watched you with a mixture of awe and fear.

Then you felt yourself being pushed against the marble ground as one of the men jumped on top of you, his weight crushing your small figure.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch.” He snarled against your ear.

You threw your head back, smirking when you heard the grunt of pain and several curses falling from the man’s lips.

You raised your hands and with it, the other man floated in the air. With a wave of your wrist, he went crashing into his friend and they slumped into a corner.

You quickly picked yourself up and ran out of the museum’s back exit, knowing you had to avoid the police at all costs.

Reaching an abandoned alley, similar to the one you first arrived in, you took out the inter-dimensional extrapolator, deciding it was way too dangerous for you to remain here any longer.

Pressing the device, you expected to see a breach form but to your shock, there was none. Inspecting the device, you saw that it had been broken, more than likely from when you’d been thrown against the ground by the robbers.

You muttered a foul curse before calming yourself.

Think, y/n. Think.

Your ears perked up at the familiar whistle and rattle of train tracks.

Okay, you knew what to do next.

You needed to go home.

Part 2 ->

297 notes · View notes