#for the most part. stories passed down through spoken word for a very very long time before ever being written down

[milkteabinniechan]

Pink Carnations ♡

A Bridgerton Story

Membership // m.list

pairing: Felix Lee x female reader x Bang Chan

summary: You walked down the aisle and said "I do." Now you live at the Lee Manor and your new husband hasn't said two words to you. But a letter has come from the man you love, with some devastating news.

Read Chapter Two here

CHAPTER THREE

Pink Carnations nestled around every corner of Felix’s sprawling mansion. Small bushes and bundles of the delicate flora were particularly placed and decorated the winding path to the massive front door. You let your eyes take in the expansive amount of your favorite flower. You twirled your body in a dizzying motion to try to count all of them. Was this all for you? Your eyes met Felix’s as he stood by the front gate. He outstretched his hand to you and gave a modest bow.

“Welcome home.” he said in a low tone, his face unreadable.

You took his hand and walked with him up the brick-layed path. The smell of the season was all around you, consuming you. You felt a warmth rise in your chest as the clouds parted and the true size of his estate was revealed. Lady Whistledown had spoken about the Lee estate before, but few had ever walked the grounds. The entire town had labeled Felix as an outcast, an outsider looking in. Surely there was no warm welcome waiting for you inside those spacious, empty halls.

Felix pushed the door open wide to reveal large, ornate windows, letting in the most beautiful light. Colors of pink and blue hues speckled and spotted the ground. Their reflection somehow a cruel and deceiving mask of what was now ultimately your new cage. No matter how exquisite this manor was, it was no home. This was a jail cell.

A few of Felix’s footmen carried your bags and belongings and showed you to your room. You stood in the doorway for a moment, puzzled at the size of the bed. The bed itself looked comfortable enough but it was small. Definitely not enough room for two people. You turned quickly towards the hall to see Felix gone, and the footmen off on other duties. Were you to sleep alone? Was this marriage?

Later that evening, a housemaid came to tell you it was time for supper. You lost track of time reading a favorite book of yours and hadn’t even noticed the sun had gone down. You changed into an evening dress that had been laid out for you. The simple chiffon flowed effortlessly down your body. The bodice was adored with small pink and blue jewels reminiscent of the windows that welcomed you earlier. You made your way downstairs and entered the dining hall to find Felix at one end of a long, dark mahogany table. Food had been placed in front of your seat and you felt your stomach move and ache for the first time all day. You grabbed a small dinner roll and some pieces of meat that could have been a type of bird, or perhaps pig. Either way, you ate it quickly and without complaint. Living here may be torture, but at the very least you would not starve. You swiped another roll from the table and took a breath.

“Did you plant those flowers for me, my Lord?” your words muffled from the bread.

Felix glanced up from the papers he was scanning and gave a look that was, again, unreadable. He sighed and ran his hand through his long, golden hair. With only candlelight to light his features, the sharpness that had frightened you earlier seemed to melt away with each flicker of the flame.

“My grounds staff planted those. I had no interest in what flower they chose, I have much more important matters to deal with than decorating the courtyard.” He returned to the pages layed out in front of him.

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

Three days had passed since first walking into Lee Manor. You found ways to keep yourself busy. You found a library that remained seemingly untouched where you could read and write and escape to far away lands. You wandered the courtyard grounds and listened to birds chirp. However, what you truly did was wait. You waited for some kind of sign from your one true love, from Chan. On the evening of the third night, a sign finally came. A soft knock at your door, barely a whisper. A housemaid walked in to bring you a letter. This letter was addressed to you, with your maiden name printed across the front in large, bold calligraphy. You thanked the maid and waited for her to leave. You held your breath as you slowly opened the envelope. Your eyes hastily scanned the words, the handwriting unmistakable. It was Chan.

My Dearest,

You looked beautiful in that wedding gown. I regret not seeing you face to face that day. I regret not telling you how much I love you. I regret not kissing your lips before he had. I regret so many things, my love. But my greatest regret is not being the man worthy of asking for your hand. To be the man you call husband would be the highest honor. I was born penniless, that is my birthright. And yet, you loved me anyway. You made every day feel like the first day of life, the first day of breathing. You deserve the world. I cannot give you the world, my love. But for a short time, you gave me hope.

Please forgive me.

Your Chan.

A tight band that had been forming in the pit of your stomach snapped and you fell to your knees onto the floor. The letter lay open in your hand, while tears filled your eyes and overflowed down your cheeks. Please forgive me. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. Chan was gone. Air had left your lungs and refused to ever return. You had never felt this empty before. Your bones felt as if they would crumble and fade away inside your very skin. Leaving you a pile on the floor, unrecognizable, unloved.

“What is that you’re holding?” A voice split through your sorrow like an axe through an immovable Alder tree.

You could hear someone speaking to you, but you were miles away now. You never wanted to come back. You hoped for a release that would let you float on for eternity.

“I need some help here! NOW!” The same booming voice. Darkness swallowed your eyes until nothing remained but ebony loneliness. Perhaps it was better this way…

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25

[majorshatterandhare]

Yes, I agree re: Brian’s brain potentially working slow of understanding that Galahad is worshipping *him*. “Helping is a good thing to do :)”

Galahad having the bead knowledge passed down makes a lot of sense, especially if his faith… like came from somewhere else? Like religion was passed down, he just went off on his own with it (as is common!).

It all depends on Brian’s morals, but how do you determine sentience? It could be sentient but the way it communicates is one you can’t understand, then if you put things which you can understand above ones which you can’t and you are biasing it towards your understanding, which isn’t fair to things that communicate in a different way. It *really* depends on Brian’s morals which I think are likely different than most humans. (I’m having trouble describing my thoughts on this rn)

(I laughed out loud about Brian being a potted plant, which is very rare for me. Then I choked, so.)

I love how you’ve described how Brian and the plant are intertwined here. He’s offering some of himself to Galahad. A part that’s more important than his hair.

There’s something very funny to me here about how we desperately don’t want Brian to be alone, but no matter who or what is with him during HNOC they will die. Imagining him to have a friend on the station necessitates imagining him to hurt that much more in the sun. Either way he’s hurt, but which is worse? Is one worse? (/rh)

The imagery of the rose growing up onto the gallows made me think that maybe… the catgut has rotted away, but no one needed to come string him back up. Maybe his closest friend is keeping him there now. He can’t leave not only because of his punishment for his crime, but also because to do so would hurt his rose.

The roses on Aurora are his garden, but the rose in his body became part of him. They shared each other.

I imagine Mordred would be more interested in what Brian did to deserve hanging and understand his side of things than the others. But even if it wasn’t something Brian *should* be punished for, Mordred couldn’t convince Brian that he doesn’t deserve it, because even if Brian agrees that he didn’t do anything wrong, he understands why he was hung in the first place, he understands their point of view. Something about how even if the punishment is wrong its also wrong for him not to accept it?

Next time I come across a mech x plant idea I’ll be sure to send it your way.

I was imagining lampwork beads rather than glass blowing. If he has access to “soft glass,” which has soda and lime in it, then he should be able to melt that and make beads from it. Wikipedia says soda–lime glass is common, but I don’t know what they would have on the fort.

Galahad should be able to melt copper, though, I think. Can’t take too many hairs though, Brian can’t just grow them back.

please consider: Galahad always carrying around rosary beads/prayer beads that carry the image of Merlin, The Hanged Man in the style of a saint or of a crucifix. Also he handmade the entire thing of beads btw.

[gaycragula]

Hey may I ask for a part two of Refound Family only now that the kid is now joining the task force and that he passed all of the test like it was sliding on ice (easy and smooth) then one day they meet on a mission and the kido team and 141 decided to team up for that one mission because they had gotten the order to take down the same terrorist organisation.

Lead the Way, Private

Pairing: Task Force 141 x M!Reader (Platonic/Paternal) Part 2 of the Refound family short Warning(s): very vaguely hinted relationship with your sergeant, captain m!reader, military setting, hinted at minor character death like super duper vaguely, random callsigns for extra characters Extra Note: I've no clue how the military works so I apologize in advance Word Count: 1558 Masterlist

The weight of your gear had become a welcome feeling along with the feel of the wind on your face as you and your team were transported to a secondary hangar. 

After you’d found your family, you’d decided to join the military. Your adoptive parents were hesitant at first, trying to get you to think about it. You’d told Price about your wishes and your parents' doubts. 

The next time you’d spoken to them, they were supportive but still hesitant. You assume Price had a talk with them.

That had been 10 years ago. You’d gotten through boot camp without many difficulties despite being one of the older guys there. Most had been teenagers, fresh out of high school. There were only two or three other guys in their 20s like you.

 You were in your 30s, sitting comfortably in the position of captain. You wore the medal with pride.

 You’d been with your men for just over 9 years. Three of them as a sergeant and four as a lieutenant before you got your current position. Your men respected you. You’d been with them long enough to know what they were capable of and rarely ever pushed them past what they were able to do. They trusted and respected you.

There was only one person on your team who proved difficult. The newest soldier who joined just after you’d been promoted to captain. Torch was the name he’d made for himself. He seemed to find joy in testing the waters in how far he could push you. He didn’t succeed in getting far very often. 

The helicopter landed and you were the first to land on the concrete of the hangar and you came face to face with another man.

It wasn’t new to be assigned a mission with another team. Especially taking down a big terrorist organization. So getting off the helicopters and finding yourself face to face with the captain of another team was not unusual. You expected it.

What you didn’t expect was the captain to be none other than John Price. He seemed just as surprised to see you before he was pulling you into a tight but brief hug with a laugh. 

“Captain?” The word was echoed by two different people.

You turned to look at your Sergeant and Price turned to where Soap had just called for him.

“Yes Sergeant?” You hum, adjusting your vest momentarily as you step away from Price. You just barely miss the look Price gives you before he’s repeating your actions, walking towards Soap to see what he needed.

“You know him?” Your Sergeant asked. You nod with a smile.

“Long story. I’ll have to tell you about it later.”

“Better keep your word, sir,” the sergeant teases.

You let out a laugh, nudging the soldier playfully. “When have I not?”

You almost miss the look of disdain pass over one of the private’s face before they were turning away from you. You take a mental note before telling your men to grab their gear and head inside. 

–

“Sooo.. Captain?” Gaz whistles as you sit down across from him. “Moving up quick, kid.”

 You roll your eyes with a low chuckle. “Gotta prove I’m not a little kid anymore,” you joke as you lean back in your chair. 

Gaz laughs, shaking his head. The room began to fill up, your sergeant taking the seat to your left while Soap took the seat to your right. A quick debrief before you went out into the field. A much needed 30 minutes of information spewing on what the plan was.

You were reviewing with your men, making sure they had it drilled in their heads who they would be working with. The private gave you a look and you shot one back at him. “Is there an issue, Torch?” You ask. Your voice was louder than it needed to be and, even with the balaclava covering his face, you can tell you’ve embarrassed him.

“No sir,” he mumbles, eyes shifting to his boots. A huff leaves your mouth and you order your men on the carrier. They were quick to do so and you could hear your sergeant say something to the private.

You walked over to where Price was standing speaking to Ghost. Ghost nods to you in acknowledgement as you stop next to Price. He dismisses Ghost onto the carrier before turning to you. 

“All set, Cap,” you hum. “Ready for takeoff.”

“Atta boy,” Price chuckles, ruffling your hair like he used to when you were a boy. “Let’s get goin’ then.”

He pats you on the back as you turn to join your men, taking the hand your sergeant offered you to hoist you into the carrier. The aircraft shook for a moment as it took off before it was speeding towards your drop off location.

–

Drop off was quick. Everyone grabbed their weapons and got out of the way so the carriers could take back off and leave you in silence. 

The group waited for the sound of the carriers to fall off completely before beginning the 15 mile trek to your target. Price led the group while you brought up the rear. Leaves crunched under boots and you wondered for a moment why they decided to do this in the middle of autumn. 

At the 10 mile mark, four men branched off. Two to the east and two to the west. The designated snipers. All four were your men. Your sergeant and your corporal went west. Your lieutenant and one of the privates went east. 

“They good shots?” Ghost asks, falling in line next to you.

“Killer,” you nod, finding joy in the amused huff Ghost gave in reply.  With the four branching off, that left yourself, all four of the 141, and two of your privates. “Trust them with my life.”

“Good to have that trust,” Ghost hums as he glances at the other three members of his team. “How long have you been with them?”

“Spent Three years as a sergeant with them. Four as a lieutenant and two so far as their captain,” you answer. “Been on the team for 9 years. With my men for 8.”

Ghost casts a sideways glance that you ignore. You didn’t feel like going into detail and he seemed to respect the silent wish as he didn’t press on the matter. “How are your parents?”

“Good. They’ve come to terms with my decision. We write to each other whenever we can,” you smile. Ghost hums and it seemed that was the end of the conversation. It was rare for you to talk to him for long. He’d rather give you encouraging pats on the back or be a shoulder to cry on than hold a conversation.

You never minded. When you were younger, it was rare for Ghost to be alone anyway. Soap was always around and talked enough for both of them. You’re sure it still rings true now. 

The line came to a halt as the building you’d be sweeping peeked over a hill. “What’s it looking like down there, Kicker?” You ask  over the radio.

Static before your lieutenant answered. “About fifty gathered to the east. Unloading materials from the looks of it. Lots of cars coming in and out.”

“Sergeant?”

“‘Bout fifteen keeping guard 30 yards from the back entrance, Cap,” your sergeant answers. 

You thank both of them and nod to Price. “We go east,” you say.

“You sure?” Your private quips. You turned to the man, fighting the urge to snarl. 

“Would you like to go west, Torch?” You ask. You manage to keep your voice steady. “If you would like to do so, please lead the way.”

You make a show of gesturing to the west, watching the soldier intently. The private didn’t say anything for a moment and you let out a huff. “Soap, come with,” you say before looking at Price who nodded. “We’re going west. Price, Gaz, and Ghost, roll out east.”

The private sputtered on whatever he was going to say next, choking out an apology. You huffed in response, nudging the soldier forward with a scowl. “Too late to back down, private. But we will be having a chat when we get back,” you hiss, gesturing for Soap to join yourself and both of your privates. You saw your other private hit Torch over the back of his head, cursing him out.

“Aye, Captain,” Soap nods, glaring at Torch as he moved to stand next to you. 

You repeat the change of plans to the four snipers, waiting for acknowledgement before you start west. 

“Quit starin’ boys,” Price chuckles, pulling Ghost’s and Gaz’s attention back to himself. “He’ll be fine. That private is in for one hell of a talking to.”

“Didn’t think he would’ve had it in him,” Gaz muses as the three of them head east. “Always was a soft spoken kid. Rare to get him riled up.”

“Can’t help but be proud of him can you?” Price chuckles. 

Ghost let out a hum of agreement. You weren’t their little boy anymore. You aren’t the boy they pulled from that smoking rubble, who latched onto them, screaming and crying when you were adopted. You were a man now and you didn’t need the protection you needed all those years ago.

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage April 2024 Issue ft. Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger Main Cast Member Interviews (translations below)

Publication: March 8, 2024 (after broadcast end)

The kings have become immortal

The Uchu King Dagded Dujardin is the most powerful and very worst, having destroyed many planets in the universe. After a fierce battle, the Royal Sentai finally defeated and destroyed Dagded, ending his 2,000 year long history.

The victory over Dagded would've never been achieved by the power of the kings alone. There were the retainers, who continued to support the king from behind the scenes and were highly trusted by them. The former living, who watched over from the Kingdom of Death, Hakabaka, offered their lives and thoughts to the current kings. And, the key to the descent of the Super Fury Ultimate Complete King-Ohger, was the people of the six kingdoms, who created an "endless chain of small lives." In other words, this was achieved only because the entirety of life on Chikyu sided with the kings and rebelled against Dagded.

At the end of an endless chain, lives are forever connected…These words spoken by Reiniol are surely not only about Chikyu. We, who have witnessed the story of Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger, are also entrusted with the task of weaving an eternal story by connecting our lives together. _

Gira Husty: The evil king. He understands the feelings of the Shugod's and settles the battle against Dagded. He was smiling even as the proposal to unite the six kingdoms fell through.

Yanma Gast: The king of wisdom. Using the power of the King's Proof, he created a plan to counter Dagded. He promises Gira that he'll restore the rest of the scattered Shugod parts.

Hymeno Ran: The queen of splendor. She asked her parents, who emerged from Hakabaka, to treat the injured. While thinking of a name for the new country, she proposes "Great Ishabana."

Rita Kaniska: The immovable king. They're rescued by their former king, Karras, who had been revived from Hakabaka. Although they declared the founding of the new country, they were frustrated because no one could come to an agreement.

Kaguragi Dybowski: The lord of abundance. He received assistance from the former lord, Iroki, who emerged from Hakabaka. When deciding on the name of the new country, he tried to get the middle part.

Jeramie Brasieri: The king of inbetween. He's saved by his mother Nephila, who rushed to him from Hakabaka. As a storyteller, he recorded and left a message for the future people of Chikyu. _

Rushing through daily commotion

-Thoughts on the final three episodes that wrapped up the past year-

Murakami: I felt that it was a performance where everyone's teamwork shined through in their cool and united efforts to face the enemy.

Sakai: When I read the script, I thought that the sense of unity of the citizens joining together to fight against Dagded would be the major highlight.

Watanabe: I thought it was really great to see the development of having the people we've been protecting help us in the end.

Kaku: It was amazing that even all the characters from the movie appeared on TV as well.

Sakai: Nakamura Shido-san also made an appearance through his voice.

Murakami: It was truly extravagant. It makes me want to do another movie (laughs).

Watanabe: It was great to see all the people who have appeared so far at the end, including the guests featured in the movie. Over the past year, everyone was passing the baton, but in the end, we all reached the goal together.

Ikeda: Regarding Jeramie, it was very emotional to start out as the storyteller from the first episode, to then end up passing down the story to future generations.

Kaku: The fact that they tried to create a new country free of national borders, but couldn't come together in the end gave off the charm of the Royal Sentai, huh?

Hirakawa: Right, right. Everyone seems to be looking in different directions, but in reality, they're all looking in the same direction. I felt that the way it ended was really good, giving off that typical Royal Sentai feeling.

Sakai: I was moved by the ending, with the main idea seeming to be based on accepting other countries and races.

-The most surprising development after reading the script?-

Murakami: When Rita……(she notices Ikeda-san raising his hand), please go ahead.

Ikeda: Is it okay if we raise our hands?

All: (laughs).

Ikeda: Then, I'll start. What surprised me would have to be the episode where Racules betrays Dagded (episode 41). The developments from episode 41 were memorable because Racules was portrayed in a charming way.

Murakami: I'm next! I would've never expected the development of Kaguragi using his King's Proof to burn Rita as they seal off Minongan in a blizzard (episode 45).

Kaku: That's for sure. I never imagined Kaguragi and Rita would team up.

Murakami: I also like the fact that activating the King's Proof created a new technique, and the way it was used was abit interesting.

Hirakawa: That position.

Kaku: This (he spreads both of his hands out together with Hirakawa-san)

Hirakawa: (while imitating Kaguragi) "Good night~!"

Ikeda: I wasn't able to watch the filming, so I'm looking forward to watching the broadcast (this was pre broadcast at the time of this interview).

Hirakawa: Kaku-san mistakenly said, "Please go home" (laughs).

Kaku: Yeah. The staff said, "Okay then, we're going home~" and left.

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: That scene was really cool though (laughs).

Murakami: For the dialogue, "Taselles Mirullia Da'pago" was actually supposed to be said in episode 5. They weren't able to include it due to the length of the episode, but it appeared later in episode 30. I was happy to see that many of the things that we couldn't do for various reasons were picked up in the later half.

Watanabe: Anyone else surprised that time skipped forward two years midway through?

Kaku: Yeah! That was really exciting.

Watanabe: As someone who loves shonen manga, it was hot.

Hirakawa: The visuals changed completely.

Sakai: It was also good in terms of motivation for filming.

Watanabe: The change in costumes made it feel fresh.

Kaku: Right, right. It didn't feel boring.

Ikeda: Another surprising thing was idol Rita, no? (episode 38).

Hirakawa: Even now, I'm still really surprised.

Watanabe: I was surprised at the amount of staff during filming.

Sakai: The number of cameras was just incredible.

Watanabe: Seriously. I think they put the most effort into it out of everything in King-Ohger (laughs).

Kaku: The cameras for behind the scenes use were also rolling, right?

Hirakawa: This was the episode where the staff gave their all with blood, sweat and tears (laughs). It was the first time that there were four cameras rolling.

Murakami: It was movie level. It was like "Oshi no Ko."

Ikeda: We even went to watch the filming in order to drag the perfect smile out of them.

Hirakawa: Thank you for coming at that time, really.

Kaku: The body swap (episode 28), Taisei and the others, those three became babies (episode 45), we got to do alot of things that you can't do in a normal drama……It was alot of fun.

Murakami: It was~. Also, getting turned into a pill bug (episode 15).

Sakai: That's right (laughs). Early on, Gira had alot of episodes with disguises.

Murakami: Things like the "playing dead" strategies (episode 11). In terms of surprises, Hymeno gave Kaguragi an anesthetic in episode 8, right? I was surprised by the scene in episode 42, where it was revealed that Racules had been using it.

Kaku: I also thought that I had killed the carp with poison, so I was relieved and thought, "Thank goodness, Kakuragi didn't kill it." I can say this now, but when I asked Director Yamaguchi Kyohei if Kaguragi had poisoned it at that time, he was hesitant to answer.

Murakami: Maybe the Director didn't know about developments either?

Kaku: Maybe. I was told, "Please make a face that can be taken either way."

Hirakawa: When you think about it, it's incredibly difficult to act out Kaguragi.

Sakai: It felt like Kaguragi had the most scenes where his performance had those kind of hidden meanings.

Murakami: And Racules too. Everyone in the 30s group was like that.

Kaku: There were definitely alot of us.

-Describe this team with a single saying?-

Kaku: Charisma Sentai Superstar.

Ikeda: Yes.

Hirakawa: Then it's settled!

All: (laughs).

Sakai: But, surely that's the only way to go. Everyone's got their own charm.

Watanabe: And they're kings.

Sakai: Higuchi Kohei-kun of Donbrothers also once said, "Everyone has their own charm."

Hirakawa: Heh~!

Kaku: That makes me happy.

Murakami: Not just the characters, but all the actors are also unique, and their differences are interesting.

Kaku: That's for sure. We all had different directions, but there were no fights. The six of us came together with a good balance.

Hirakawa: Everyone was so kind.

Sakai: No one ever got too emotionally involved. Even if there was something on my mind, they wouldn't meddle unnecessarily.

Hirakawa: I feel like we didn't interfere with each other too much.

Sakai: I'd say we were a balanced, calm team.

Ikeda: Would you call it calm charisma?

Sakai: Super Charisma Calm Sentai?

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: That's too confusing (laughs).

-A message from the kings to the people-

Murakami: Throughout the episodes over the past year, I think there were various messages and words of support that the Royal Sentai were aiming to convey, and I'd be glad if they resonated with you. It would make me happy if this production acts as a hint towards taking your own path in life, and that all of our fans will be able to live in a beautiful world.

All: (applauding).

Kaku: The words you said just now, I'll take it those are the words everyone else was going to use, huh?

All: (laughs).

Hirakawa: Marie just said what we all wanted to say!

Murakami: Is there anything I didn't say?

Ikeda: Something like, "I was very happy to meet you all" or, "Thank you very much for your support."

Kaku: I don't think children understand the content of the story in depth right now. So, I hope that when they grow up, they'll watch it again and see that the kings they admired back then were such great characters.

Watanabe: I have one last thing to say.

Hirakawa: What?

Watanabe: I know this is goodbye for TV, but when you suddenly remember us, I'd be happy if you could come and visit Chikyu to play.

All: Oooh~!! (applauding).

Hirakawa: That's perfect!

Kaku: And with that, finally, our leader!

Sakai: Right……I'd be happy if you'd continue to love this show even after it's over. Thank you very much!

Ikeda: "…..or so it goes."

[starlazergazer]

Spare Key

Pairing: Anakin x reader

Request: An AU where your left eye is your own color but the right is the color of your soulmates, set between Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith, Anakin runs into his soulmate on a lower shadier level of Coruscant where she works as a bartender for a bar that mostly deals with mercenaries and bounty hunters. From here the reader and Anakin have to work through the issues of Anakin not being able to form attachments and the jedi order

Warnings: Some swearing, some jealousy, lots of angst

Word count: 3K

A/N: sorry this took me so long to get out but I really hope you like it I had a lot of fun with the creative freedom and hope you like where I took the story! Sorry it’s angsty!!

 Anakin had never much bothered to study the color of his right eye. There was no point in it really, the jedi code was strict, jedi knights could not form attachments with anyone, even soulmates did not trump it, though it felt cruel for the universe to give him one anyways.

A part of him long ago had mourned the loss of what could have been, had he stayed on Tattooine could he have met her? Was she out there somewhere waiting for him? A soulmate that could never be. Did she even know?

But as he grew up, started to get more serious about being a jedi knight and exactly what that meant he accepted it, accepted that perhaps the order had a reason to establish such a rule it their code. His mind became filled with other thoughts, troubles, dreams, desires, and he forgot about the soulmate that could have been and the color of her eye.

That was why he didn’t think twice when he saw the color of the bartenders left eye as she bent down just beside him to put a round of drinks on the table.

A part of him, a small part that never grew up or moved on, noted that the color of her left matched the color of his right but that didn’t mean much. There were only so many eye colors out there and he had met more than enough with the right color but that didn’t mean they were the ones.

He had a mission to focus on anyways, a table of mercenaries spread out around him as they accepted him as one of their own, talked of the job they were planning to pull off in just a few days, Anakin’s ears finely attuned to the conversation to report back to the council later.

A small break in the conversation as drinks were passed around and the man next to him asked for another, a voice sweet as honey answered him smoothly, the tone hinting at a smile behind those words and Anakin felt his attention being pulled, his gut wrenching ever so slightly as he found he needed to see who had spoken them, needed to see the smile for himself.

He was met with quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the quick glance he stole just moments ago when she set down glasses not nearly enough to do her features justice, a soft smile playing on her lips that was effortlessly lighting up the room, drawing out a similar one on the man next to ham’s features along with quite possibly the most polite words he’d heard the man utter since sitting down. Somehow even getting a please at the end of his question.

He felt himself smirk at the sight, his eyes climbing further up her features before he froze, a very familiar left eye staring down at the mercenary as he spoke, his own eye.

A part of him insisted that it was a fluke, that blue eyes were common in Coruscant, that surely that couldn’t be his own, but at the same time he couldn’t let it go, couldn’t shake the thought as it consumed his conscious mind, his eyes only breaking from her as she slipped past to go back to the bar, his gaze hovering in the empty space where she had been for far too long.

“I’ll go grab that for you” the words were out of his mouth before he could even think them, a hand clapping the man next to him’s shoulder briefly as he stood up and made his way to the bar, at the moment not caring that he was abandoning his mission.

He walked up to the bar on Shakey legs, leaning more onto the countertop than necessary as he watched you work, pouring another drink for his table, her eyes flicking up to his as he stared for longer than what was polite.

She, however, didn’t seem to notice, her body freezing as her gaze connected with his own, her own eyes dancing happily back and forth between his, studying every detail carefully, drinking in the familiarity those eyes brought

“Oh-ah-what can I get you?” something snapped her out of the paralysis, her posture snapping upright as she tried to go back to her job, a distinct pink hue taking over her cheeks as he did so that had Anakin grinning.

“I’m Anakin” he held out his hand, not caring that that didn’t answer her question.

“Y/N” she returned with a smile, clearly showing that she didn’t care either, the handshake going on for a few seconds longer than was necessary.

Eventually Anakin regretfully withdrew his hand, elbow coming up to lean on the bar, by no means eager to leave “Can I just say you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen”

And to his delight she laughed at this, head going back slightly as her body shook with it. With that sound Anakin knew that he was screwed, you both were. Because there was no way this could possibly end well, but he was sure going to enjoy every moment with you in between

-

“Did you have a good date tonight?”

The question came from a darkened corner of your apartment, the familiar voice cutting unexpectedly through the silence making you jump slightly as you walked into the room, turning to shut and lock your door with an uncomfortable chuckle.

“You scared me” you tried to avoid the question, tried to move naturally to pull down the end of your dress, to act like this was all normal.

And to an extent it was, it wasn’t the first time Anakin had used the extra key you gave him, telling him he could come by whenever he liked, knowing he needed a place to get away from the order every once in a while. But this time was different, you knew it would be if he were here, was why you never even considered bringing the guy home with you that night, while that and a few more reasons…

“Did you have a good date tonight?” he repeated his question again and you knew you weren’t getting out of answering it. His tone wasn’t curious, it was flat, accusatory, it was a tone looking for a fight and you had a hard enough time talking yourself into going on the date in the first place, let alone defending that decision to Anakin.

“It was fine” you forced a shrug, forced your tone to be light and nonchalant, forced yourself out of the little foyer and into the room where he could actually see you from his chair, walking over to the kitchen for a glass of water, putting distance between the two of you as if that could calm the oncoming storm.

And to your surprise it seemed to work, his next words coming out much softer than before, barely more than a whisper “I haven’t seen that dress before”

You looked down at your dress as if you had forgotten what you were wearing, eyes grazing over the short, tight, black dress you had worn tonight for your date, a dress you’d worn because you knew you looked good in it, something your date obviously had noticed too. “It’s new”

You heard Anakin’s loud breath from across the room, a long sigh followed by a bitter chuckle, “you bought a new dress for him”

“Anakin why are you here?” you sighed, hands coming naturally to your hips as you looked down at the Jedi in his seated position, gearing up for the fight your could feel coming, the tension in the room thick enough you could feel it.

“I just want to know” he shrugged casually, giving you a moment’s pause to prepare for his next words, for the sucker punch he knew he was about to deliver “what’s the point?”

And just like that you could feel the anger building within you, feel every ounce of patience start to leave as you crossed your arms defensively over your chest, willing yourself to keep a level head “if you’re here just to start a fight you can leave”

“I was just curious” he had a smirk on his face as he pushed himself to his feet, as if he enjoyed taunting you like this “you know he’s not the one, will never be the one, so why bother?”

Your chest puffed as you forced calm deep breaths as he approached you, words forming and dying within your head as you formulated your response. Because there are still options you wanted to scream, for no other reason than to remind yourself of that fact. This was real life, shit happens, soulmates die, or never meet, or are jedi knights sworn to a stupid jedi code to never form attachments and people still needed options for a relationship, for intimacy, for love.

But you knew that argument would fall on deaf ears because it fell on your own the same way. Because it was too hard to believe you could still move on while he was here, to settle for second best while your soulmate stood right in front of you, the evidence written in his eyes that were identical to your own in every way.

“What would you have me do Ani?”

And you could feel the defeat slipping into your tone as you asked, the spite in you ebbing and flowing with the sadness in a way too complicated and too exhausting for you to keep up with as you mourned something that never was and never could be. How can a person mourn a relationship that does not exist?

You watched Anakin’s chest rise and fall before you as he took a few deep breaths in contemplation, the time bringing down his anger in his tone before he answered “I don’t know, I just-I thought I’d have more time”

This time it was your turn to laugh bitterly, taking a few steps back from him not needing to feel his overwhelming presence right now “Okay how about you give me a number, the number of days I’m allowed to wait before moving on and I’ll stick to that yeah?”

Another sigh escaped him as he dragged a hand down his tired face, “Look this is…this is hard for me-“

“Oh and you don’t think this is hard for me?” you asked with a scoff, hands coming back up to cross over your chest.

His eyes raked up and down your body for a brief second, the action sending shivers up your spine before he scoffed “oh yeah looks like you’re absolutely miserable”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” you demanded with a raised brow, neither of you bothering to cap the volume of your voices, not caring if your neighbors could hear at this point.

“Oh poor Y/N has to go out on dates with guys who fawn over how beautiful she is” Anakin put a slight whine in his voice as he mocked you, “Least you don’t have to watch your soulmate fall in love with someone else”

“And who’s fault is that?” you countered immediately but you could feel the pressure starting to build in the base of your throat, the draw in your forehead as your eyebrows drew together.

Anakin drew his in response, his voice doping down once again as he looked at you in confusion, “you blame me for this?”

Seeing the way your lip quiver ever so slightly, the glass sheen that grew over your eyes, Anakin was reaching for you instinctively, but you batted his hands away quickly, taking another step back, curling your arms around yourself protectively “who else would I blame?” you asked hollowly “you’re a jedi, you can’t form attachments, you don’t get to have a soulmate, I don’t fit into your world”

Anakin’s response to that came quickly, “say the word and I’ll leave”

And it was spoken so softly, so earnestly that you froze on the spot, eyes bouncing back and forth between his, a perfect match of your own. “what?”

“Say the word and I will leave the Jedi order” he repeated never breaking eye contact with you, never hesitating on a single word.

“No you don’t mean that” you said softly, shaking your head ever so slightly because he couldn’t mean that. The jedi order was Anakin’s life, it is all he’s ever known, it had his mentor Obi-wan, the closest thing he had to family.

“I could get a job with you” he insisted nonetheless, taking slow steps towards you, grabbing your hands in his and giving them a soft squeeze “or fixing things, maybe a mechanic, I don’t know but I could figure it out. Just say the word and I’m yours”

And gods that was exactly what you had always wanted to hear from him. Because he was yours, he was your soulmate just as you were his, and here he was telling you that you were his priority, that he would give up everything for you, that you were more important to him than any future or destiny set out already before him.

Gods did it hurt to hear those words knowing they could never be true.

“that’s not fair” your words came out as barely more than a whisper, the first of your tears finally spilling over the surface and down your cheek, the lump in your throat growing so large it hurt.

“We could live here” he continued on, a soft smile on his face as he spoke “cook eachother dinner, watch movies on the couch, do normal couple things-“

“Stop, please Ani just stop” you had to cut him off, had to stop the image of what your life could be like from forming, stop to onslaught of what ifs from streaming past, because you were weak, and you knew if he kept going, if he kept staring down at you with that hopeful smile and puppydog eyes that you would cave.

“Just say the word” he whispered back to you, giving your hands another soft squeeze.

You pulled them out of his, pulled your body away from his, shaking your head as you put as much distance as possible between the two of you “you can’t put that on me Anakin. You don’t get to make this my decision so that you get to resent me later for making it”

His brows furrowed at that “I wouldn’t resent you, I want to leave the order, I want to chose you, just tell me that I can”

“You can’t” a bitter laugh escaped you at that, a glare sent his direction because he knew why he couldn’t, knew why things had to be the way they were and still was insistent that it was your problem, your fault “I know about the prophecy, I know you’re supposed to be ‘the chosen one’, that you bring light to the force or whatever, so you don’t get to just walk away from everything”

“And yet here I am” the anger was bighting back into his voice, the volume starting to rise again “saying that I will walk away from everything for you”

Another tear spilt over and you didn’t bother to wipe it away, refusing to break eye contact with Anakin as he dared you to say something, dared you to tell him to stay. Why did he have to make it so hard, why couldn’t he accept that this was the way things had to be. “I will not be that girl. I will not be the one to doom the entire galaxy, the entire order, especially while we are on the cusp of a war, for selfish reasons”

Anakin took a minute to respond, a deep breath filing the silence before another small hollow chuckle “and you still say this is my fault?”

And there it was, the reason he had started this fight, to release him of his own guilt. To be able to say that he wasn’t ruining your chance at having a relationship with your soulmate, rather you were ruining his.

And at this point fine. You were tired, done with the same argument, done having to rationalize everything not only to yourself but to Anakin as well. If he wanted you to be the bad guy then fine you’ll be the bad guy.

“Anakin” you sighed, a hand coming to your forehead as you pinched the bridge of your nose as you prepared yourself “just leave”

You could see him set his jaw at your words, the way his hands balled up into fists, but he said nothing more, simply made for the door.

“Leave the key”

He froze at the words you had thrown back at him last minute, the implications you were trying to sneak upon him in the last seconds, his head whipping around to look at you.

“Why don’t we talk about this tomorrow” he tried to grovel with you, tried to back down from the ledge you had put you both upon.

“I can’t do this anymore” you pleaded back to him, arms defensively over your chest as you tried and failed to maintain your eye contact, seeing your own eyes staring back at you hurting too much “can’t keep having the same argument, I can’t have you around all the time, so close and never close enough. I can’t do it anymore Anakin”

And he blinked back at you in surprise, hesitating for a long moment before he thrust his hand into a pocket of his robes, rooting around for a minute before extracting a small metal key, holding it stationary in the air for a second before hesitantly setting it down on your coffee table, hand hovering above it for a moment before he extracted it.

“I’ll see you around then…right?”

The hopeful tone in his voice killed you, both of you knowing that your paths didn’t cross naturally, that he was often gone for weeks at a time on missions, that he had a war to win.

“Yeah Ani, sure”

And he forced on a smile at your words, the corners of his lips just barely tilting up before he turned back around and headed for the door, your eyes breaking down to the key.

There was the sound of the door shutting, then a brief pause, and the sound of footsteps retreating down the hall before you were ushered into the deafening silence of your empty apartment, eyes never breaking from the small metal key on the coffee table.

Part 2 Here

[thexsanctuaryx]

found in the stars

{ CHAPTER ONE }

➳ NEXT CHAPTER

Summary: Even in the ancient world, many have stopped believing in the old gods, but not Marc Spector and his system. They still very much believe and devote themselves to one particular deity. So what happens when they come face to face with their patron goddess, Hecate? Without knowing it's her, of course... Pairing: Original Character { Emma Harper } x Marc Spector; eventually Emma Harper x Steven Grant && Emma Harper x Jake Lockley Contents: slight angst, kinda fluffy, pagan deities, ancient civilization ergo period, almost completely if not totally alternate universe for the boys, their characters have been taken and dropped into a completely standalone original universe Warnings: mentions of mental illness { DID }, brief mentions of being mistreated by others, self-loathing, self-blame, due to contents and nature of this series, the boys are pagan instead of Jewish, it is not intended as erasure, just a different story being told Author's Note: Hello there! I've been a part of this community for a HOT MINUTE but worried for a long time I couldn't pull off the boys. Well, I started writing them about a year ago now and they haven't left since. This is my first proper fic in almost two decades, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I've loved writing it. Thank you so much to anyone who gives it a chance!!! There are several others in the works! Word Count: 2k

He sits in the garden they’ve worked so painstakingly hard to perfect for her. Days upon days – no months upon months – patiently tending to the soil, caring for the various flora that occupy the now magnificent garden on the outskirts of his father’s land. Yet, as he looks around now, it still doesn’t seem like enough and already he plans out improvements.

It’s just after midnight now, a time which he’d always been taught is her favorite. And here he sits, in the middle of the flowers, knelt at the shrine they’d set up for her at the very center, prayer upon his lips once again.

“I’m sure you must tire of hearing from me so often—but despite the lack of news, I find myself always wanting to speak to you first.” He clears his throat, glancing down with a soft melancholy smile as he reminisces to someone he’s never met – a goddess no less. And even he must admit, it isn’t the most proper conversation to have with any deity, let alone one as revered as she is.

His tongue slips between his lips, lolling his head ever so slightly. “Steven’s better at this sort of thing, the propriety and what not, but I suppose that’s just one of my many pitfalls.”

He pushes out a sigh, “I know I maybe shouldn’t speak so casually to you—you are the key bearing queen of the cosmos after all—” He briefly pauses before continuing at his own expense. “I must seem a child with a silly crush…”

A light scoff forces its way through his sinuses, reaching a hand back to grip at the back of his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. “It’s just that you’ve always been there—or perhaps I hope you have…”

He looks up at the sculpture he hand formed himself as he speaks to her now, pursing his lips now with indignation toward himself. His shoulders rise slowly and fall back down again. “You’re the first one I think to speak to in the morning and you’re often the last I speak with before I sleep…”

“So I suppose I just wanted to tell you…it’s my—our birthday today…” Another beat passes, frowning softly as he continues, “Which will be spent alone of course—” He pauses again to smirk softly at the silent statue. “Still waiting on you to send us that wife we’ve spoken so much about…” He teases.

He looks up at the soft curves of her face hewn from marble. “But it only felt right to spend the first moments of our thirtieth solar return with you…”

“Thank you for always keeping us under your careful gaze…”

A voice comes seemingly out of nowhere from behind the right of the shrine. “You speak to her as if you’re in love with her…” The soft somewhat raspy voice says. And as she steps out into the pale light of the moon, he suddenly wonders if he believes in angels instead of goddesses.

His face stills in shock as he struggles to find breath, even as she moves closer. She looks to be a handful of years younger than he, dressed in clothes that would suggest nobility.

She offers a soft, calm smile, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to intrude. I was on a late walk when I saw this beautiful garden and wanted to see it up close.”

It's in this moment, he begins to believe in his goddess more now than perhaps he ever has before. He’s almost certain that she’s the companion he’s prayed so fervently for all these years. A breathtaking maiden, stumbled in his garden at the precise moment he’s saying just such prayers.

She rolls her lips in, causing dimples to prick into her cheeks as she does her best to hide her amusement at his astonishment.

“Do you mind if I join you?” She wonders aloud, stepping closer to him.

He clears his throat, blinking rapidly to rouse himself from his daze. He shakes his head quickly, “not at all…”

She moves to claim a spot on the marble bench that rests just behind where he’s knelt at the altar.

He rises slowly, still stunned by her presence even as he makes to sit beside her. He’s surprised he can even find his voice at such a time, but introduces himself gently. “I’m Marc…”

It occurs to her then, that perhaps betraying her secret isn’t wise just yet. As smoothly as breathing she replies, “My name is Emma…”

He can’t help the smile that overtakes his lips at the sound of her name, and she only returns it with one of her own.

All at once, however, he looks troubled, “should you be out so late on your own?”

A gentle laugh escapes her, “perhaps I believe in your goddess just as much as you do—that she’ll protect me.”

“You shouldn’t--” The crease forms between his eyebrows.

“I shouldn’t believe in her?” She teases, looking a little too deeply into his dark brown eyes.

He scoffs lightly, quickly looking away from her intense stare. “No-- you should believe in her—forgive me I more meant—it can be dangerous to wander alone this late at night, I wouldn’t want anything to happen--” He squeezes his eyes shut, once again feeling as though his mouth has gotten away from him.

She finishes his sentence in the softest tone, her words in contrast sounding filled with confidence. “To me?”

He nods slowly, swallowing as he looks back to her.

As his eyes connect with hers once more, she can feel the years of pain that hide behind them. Moreover, she’s been with him through every moment of it and needs no explanation.

Suddenly she wants nothing more than to tell him exactly who she is, but knows it’s too soon. Such a revelation might only cause him to question his sanity as he so often has in the past.

She reaches a hand to gently rest over his, her voice remaining just as unimposing. “Will you tell me about her?” She asks, looking away from him to the statue he spent hours carving, never knowing just how close by she was.

He looks confused by the question, “You want me to--…” His brows furrow deeply again, trying to figure out this mysterious woman his goddess seems to have sent to him.

Emma looks back to him briefly and the gestures with her free hand to the flowers that stretch out around them for what seems like miles. “You built all of this for her, did you not?” She pauses, quirking one shoulder to her ear. “You must love her a great deal…”

Marc’s cheeks heat, though undetectable in the darkness that surrounds them. Another small smile tugs at his lips, glancing down at the ground. “It must seem foolish to love someone so much that you’ve never met.” He swallows, nodding. “Someone that many don’t even believe exists, and that others yet still fear too much to worship.”

She interjects again quietly, giving a feathery brush of her thumb over the back of his hand beneath hers. “But you don’t fear her…and you seem too close to her to diminish by using the word worship to describe your relationship with her.”

The corner of his lips tug upward, a sad look coming over his eyes as he continues to avoid her gaze.

In a moment of truth, he confesses, “she’s the only one who has always been there for me…”

Her heart squeezes in her chest, the love she returns for him seeming to all but swallow her whole. A breeze seems to rise in the air, rippling through the garden around them, a small physical showing of the way her heart sighs for him.

He takes notice of the change in the wind, a scowl coming to his features, unbeknownst to him, correct in his deduction, “perhaps she’s heard me.”

Emma can barely withstand the swelling in her chest, struggling to maintain her secret. Ancient as she may be, she finds it almost impossible to deny the love he's stirred within her all of his years.

“I’m sure she has…”

There’s a pause of stillness between them before she continues.

“What would you tell her if she could hear you right now?” She asks softly.

Marc shoots her an incredulous look, “As if you didn’t hear everything I said before making your presence known…” He teases.

Her heart seems to flutter, something she hasn’t felt in many millennia. She finds herself avoiding his gaze, feeling like the human maiden she passes herself off as now, and not the goddess as old as time that she is.

“If she were to grant you one wish for your birthday, what would you ask for?” She inquires.

At the shift in her demeanor, Marc wonders at the miracle that seems to take place before him. But then, she didn’t know the deep dark secrets he’s concealing. Any attraction to him would quickly fall away if she did.

Still, he thinks on her question. He pushes his lips out as his eyes travel to the shining stars  above that litter the vast expanse of the universe. He wonders if she’s up there watching over them this very moment.

“I supposed I’d want to meet her face to face…”

Her eyes widen ever so slightly, following his eyes to the heavens above. She’s almost completely dumbfound by this human man who wants nothing more than to meet her properly. A man who seems to captivate her ageless heart more and more by the second.

“You’d choose to meet her over asking for a companion?” She asks, her voice laced with bewilderment.

His eyes fall back to hers without moving his head at first, smirking softly. “So you were listening the whole time then…”

She can’t remember the last time she was so turned around by anything or anyone. At first, she mistakes his meaning for knowing who she truly is, her features contorting with a troubled expression.

“I—”

“It’s okay—you wouldn’t be the first to hear a personal conversation with her…”

She’s almost disappointed by the revelation that he still believes her to be a human maiden, who simply happened upon him in his garden in the middle of the night. She clears her throat with a bit more difficulty than usual, her eyes falling to the ground.

He squeezes her hand gently, misunderstanding why she suddenly appears so crestfallen. “It really is okay…--but yes, I think I would choose to meet her above all else. I have so much to thank her for, and I’d want her to know that she is loved, and that there is at least one person who isn’t scared of her…”

Her head shoots back up, her eyes wide as they look to his again. Another gust of wind blows through the garden, the moon seeming to glow brighter above them as she marvels over him.

Her eyes, almost silver in the light from above, seem to only draw him in, his free hand moving to reach for her face. The crease between his brows comes back, as his eyes battle hers, leaning in closer.

He speaks now as if lost in a trance, “Besides, what’s a lifetime with one woman over an eternity with a goddess…”

Her eyes fall to his lips as they move steadily closer to hers. All at once, he claims them with his own, the softness of them consuming her as her eyes flutter shut.

A meteor shower erupts above as she reaches for the wrist of his hand at her face, attempting to keep him there longer as her lips glide over his.

The kiss is brief and all too fleeting as he withdraws again, remaining ever so close as his eyes scale her face. As if sensing the deep and ancient power that resides within her, he whispers a winded, “Who are you?”

[captain-of-silvenar]

F, G, H, M, and S for the fanfic asks!!!! <3333

Hi Bishop! Thanks for the ask!

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

From Chapter 2 of First Impressions, referencing Yera wanting to go into the abandoned Raven Rock Mines:

“And what's to say the opposite? Maybe there is something lurking in the mines that caused it to close off and no one's been able to find out. Maybe just one last look around will be our luck instead.”

“Says someone who sounds like they want a cave-in. I thought you hired me to be a guide?” Teldryn asked.

“As you are, and I am putting my trust in you right now that you're the mer for the job and will keep me safe. So how is an old and empty mine anymore dangerous than a cave we'll explore later outside the Bulwark?”

He wasn't going to fall for this, this had to be a kind of test. His judgment couldn’t have been this wrong to tie himself to someone willing to go blindly - literally! - into an old mining shaft abandoned for nearly a century just for fun. No, he was putting his foot down like he's done before and holding his ground.

“If you need me to spell it out for you, I will,” he started. “Who knows how long those walls have eroded away and are structurally unsound at this point. And if we ignore that, I'm sure all those nooks and crannies are filled with all sorts of skeever or whatever beasts crawled their way in from the outside. Should we get in a cave-in but survive then we’d have no way of getting back out on account of the fact there’s only one way inside. You can try to convince me, sera, but there is no way I am getting anywhere near those mines or Azura help me-”

* * *

"But mark my words, these mines hold a secret that could put Raven Rock back on the map."

I enjoyed writing this scene for a few reasons. The comedic timing of cutting way to Yera absolutely dragging Teldryn toward the mines was too good an opportunity to pass up.

And also it showed the kind of personality Yera has to the audience at the moment. Maybe reckless, maybe over confident, but self assured in her own worth to speak of it jokingly in the face of Teldryn giving actual advise about risks.

Plus it's funny to put characters in situations. Always put your characters in situations, it's for enrichment.

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I very much write out of order. I've tried writing from start to finish a lot in my life and I always get stuck and never get to the scene I want to write. So I just learned to skip right to the part I want to write the most and then backtrack to see if I can make it fit.

Most of the time I can, sometimes it just doesn't work but words written down are better than lost in your mind.

H: How would you describe your style?

I would say that I'm very scene orientated. I like to set the stage and describe the feeling of an area before jumping into it. I also do like a character focus perspective and how they interpret things through their own lens.

What might be overlooked by one character, another would latch onto and mentally describe it for the audience to understand what makes the character tick or gleeful.

I'm also always open to trying out different things and seeing how it works out. I've always written just for myself but I'm working on breaking out of it and sharing my work online, just to get a new experience.

M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I might've spoken about it in the tags of another post, but I got this fic with a Maormer/Mermaid brewing in the back. Mermaids were my childhood obsession so I just revived it and now it's half of what I think of these days, haha.

Another is this really strange and angsty/whump fic I have between Yera and Miraak. Of a premise where he wins, absorbs her soul, and the consequences of eating another soul that eats other immortal souls. What happens when two of them are placed in one body? Bad things I'll tell you!

And one I do have published but hasn't been updated in a few years is The Telvanni Master fic on Ao3. It follows my character Lorana Alithar and how she is viewed by several characters with different degrees of familiarity. Writing a story about her, without ever having her speak as the main voice. Really fun!

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?

Enemies to lovers; bodyguards to lovers; found family; star-crossed lovers; a lot of romantic tropes haha.

When it comes to fandom tropes, I'm actually not quite versed in them or I kind of ignore them. Comes with the territory of just sitting in your own writing and not really delving deep into the fandom territory.

But a good trope where a character has to self-reflect and evaluate themselves against new information is tasty and good to explore.

ask meme can be found here!

[mageofseven]

Repressed Love: A DiaLuci Love Story

Chapter 17

Tag list: @astroseuss @zarakem @brielle043 @missloserqueen

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Lucifer called a doctor, just like he promised his son.

Diavolo led him out of the blonde's room to to let the doctor do his job without Lucifer hovering over him and criticizing every little thing.

How could he not though? That was his son. He watched his son going through this confusing and painful episode where his entire body blurred and Satan screamed in agony. The Avatar of Pride needed to make sure this doctor was doing everything for his son.

Still, he allowed his fiancé to lead him out of the room. Lucifer knew he was only thinking with his emotions at this stage so when his love suggested that they step out, he trusted the other man's judgement.

Audriana was downstairs with the twins. All of House of Lamentation was quiet, the loudest sound of all being Lucifer's footsteps as he paced back and forth outside Satan's room.

Diavolo felt powerless. Neither words nor his touches could sooth his Light's pain and fear. That didn't stop the prince from trying however. His fiancé needed him after all.

Eventually, the doctor came out and nothing could have prepared Lucifer for the words that were spoken.

Satan...well, beings like him and Audriana were very rare and demonic society didn't have a lot of information to go off of.

What Satan is going through though...it's been documented to have occurred in the past, but there is no name for his condition.

His body...his very existence...it was unraveling.

Demons born like he and Audriana were different than others down to their very souls. Most demons develop in their parent's womb, absorbing dark magick for their souls as their body grows.

Special demons like his children grow much more rapidly and don't have time to absorb their own dark magick; along with the emotions that caused the pregnancy, the child rips off pieces of their parent's soul to become their own.

This is nothing to worry about on Lucifer's end because as long as he still has some parts within in him, his soul will grow back, albeit slowly. Honestly, the man's soul had probably only just healed from Satan's birth when he became pregnant with Audriana.

Satan's condition has to do with how his body formed his soul with pieces of Lucifer's. The blonde's soul, just like Audriana's, is kept together by the emotions they inherited from their dad.

Imagine their souls are glass balls that have shattered. The emotions are the glue that sticks the pieces back together. However, the glue is poisonous and the glass ball still has sharp edges, which causes them both physical and emotional pain.

What's happening to Satan is...he's worked through most of the painful emotions his father passed on to him and has nothing new and strong enough to take it's place. The glue is evaporating, the glass ball is falling apart.

His soul, his very existence is unraveling.

Satan...is dying.

Not enough is known about his condition for the doctor to truly help. Their is no known cure; just a comfort that can give his son more time.

Demon's with this condition crave interaction and exposure to their birth parent. Most children aren't lucky enough to have the option though.

Children like Satan and Audriana are often abandoned directly after birth; no one wants to raise a child born from their trauma after all. Most die alone when they develop this condition.

This is why Satan was trying to form a relationship with him, why he visited the day after Audriana was born. The deathly pain his son has been hiding for three months was soothed by his presence.

Lucifer's legs gave out from under him and all that kept him standing was Diavolo. He cried. He cursed. He didn't care that the doctor was still there, that a stranger was seeing him like this.

The Avatar of Pride had no pride left in him.

What was originally supposed to be a quick pick up of their daughter turned into an all day affair at HoL.

It felt like all of the men's lives were falling apart; even the loudest of the brothers couldn't bring themselves to utter a word.

The atmosphere of the home had a strong affect on Audriana. The small girl didn't understand anything that was going on.

Why is everyone sad? Papa, why is Daddy crying? Where's Tay Tay? I need Tay Tay 🥺

Eventually, they had to wrap the very overwhelmed child in blanket, as tightly as was needed, and put the headphones over her ears. Diavolo was busy trying to comfort Lucifer so it was Beel who offered to rock her and hold her tight as small tears dripped down her face.

It was decided between the two parents that Satan would move into the castle with them so he could always be with Lucifer.

It won't solve the problem, but it will give both father and son a bit of peace and ease some of the pain Satan has been feeling.

Later, when Satan woke up...Lucifer had everyone leave the room, including Diavolo. Lucifer had to be the one to tell his son and he needed to do it alone.

After he broke the news, Lucifer lowered himself to his knees and laid his head against the mattress.

The day Satan was born... Lucifer was afraid. Confused. In pain.

But when he looked down into his new son's tearful eyes...he felt like a failure, like it was only natural that he would fail the small frail baby in his arms.

Satan was born not long after he and his brothers moved to the Devildom, not long after he lost Lilith; not long after he failed her. He promised he'd keep her safe. He promised both her and their brothers that he'd keep her safe.

Yet she still got shot. Yet she still almost died. Yet she still left them...all because he failed her.

From failing his sister to the pressures of keeping his brothers safe in a realm that actively protested for their removal, he felt like a failure that was doomed to have the trend spread

And it was true. Here he was, failing his son just as he predicted.

"D...Dad."

Lucifer's wet eyes went wide and he raised his head.

Satan's face was red from uttering the title. This was the only time in his life he had actually referred to Lucifer as such. At best, he'd use a mocking tone in the past when he'd call him his 'brother', but otherwise tried so hard to distance himself from the pride demon.

"You did everything you were capable of back then; I know this now." The blonde told him. "Just like I know you're doing everything for me now."

But no words could heal this guilty man's conscience. Still, he treasured hearing his son call him 'Dad'.

Eventually, Lucifer asked Satan if he would move into the castle with him so he could...help the younger demon with his pain management, so to speak.

To move out of the home he's lived in for hundreds of years, the only one he's ever had in his life...this did not sit well with the blonde

But he wanted all the time he could get with his father and sister. If moving in will give him more time and extend his life a bit then so be it.

[mythomaniac-freak]

I'm a mythomaniac freak

I think I am anyway. That's all I really know about myself. It hurts to not know more but these two concepts I can latch unto the most steadily, and use to explain why I exist why I do. I really don't like people- but I do! I do and I don't, its very hard. I have lots of friends, people I care about, and I know that ultimately every person on this planet and beyond is like them but a bit different. I have over 10! I just went back to count! I just can't seem to find *community* within this. I've tried, over and over again, but I ultimately can't find what I'm looking for. I am either made extremely uncomfortable and feel unsafe, or feel as though I am the one making others uncomfortable and unsafe. I like being a freak, there is fun to being part of the counter-culture which the mainstream finds disturbing: but within that I can't find my counter-culture, the freaks who I belong with. I thought I had before, I always think I do- but it always comes down to me realizing I don't feel right around these people, or feeling like they are worse off with me there. It feels like there is no place for me no matter how long I search for it, no matter how much I change, it always seems to stay the same. I don't think its loneliness, something adjacent to that. It sucks to be the freak of freaks; and I know there's many out there, I know I'm not alone in this, but that doesn't really help when I can't find the ones who fit me. Maybe I make it hard on myself, how I modify my behaviour for each person dramatically, how I snap between emotional states to best suit their context, how I desperately crave to understand them because they make me feels things that I think they feel, but I'm wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong always wrong I always misunderstand I can never understand them but my brain always thinks it does. And I know it's not true, on an intellectual level I know this isn't right, but it really does feel that even those 10+ hate something about me. With each and every one it feels like I can say the wrong thing and evoke disgust, make them question why they even speak to me. They've never indicated this but there's a coldness that I just can't escape sometimes, like I've failed them completely and would be better off disappearing. And I can try to hide this and pretend I'm working, I can seek to understand myself through trauma and the classifications of mental disorders, but I feel I am simply lost and trying so hard to find a light in the fog only to snuff each one out as I find it. For a blog no one should read I will entice you by saying I'll explain more of why I think this is the case later, but for now I want to explain the mythomaniac part; Its a bit of a joke but of all the mental disorders and problems I might have, I am most confident in this.

I decided on the term mythomania both because I love learning about ancient myth, religion, the way stories have been passed down, and because pathological lying sounds worse. But that is what I do, I do pathologically lie, to everyone around me and myself. Its frustrating, because sometimes I'll catch the words coming out of my mouth and apologize because what I just said wasn't true-other times it will take days, weeks, months, fucking years to figure it out. Its not on purpose, but there becomes a purpose once they fester long enough: once the concept becomes part of my identity I have to protect it, so new lies pop up over and over again to fill in the dots- and they're boring, I think that's why they work. They tend to be mundane, they're casual, normal, often poorly researched as I frantically google something I *should* know *should* be able to recognize means this isn't a true thing about me- but I think my issues with memory make it difficult to just snap out of it. I believe I have a series of memories that, when spoken aloud, create a narrative for my life which is mostly factual and accurate- but these memories are few and far between. Ever since moving away from the old hellhole they've remained so distant, and while I am fortunate enough that they aren't completely gone like I once worried about, they so easily blend in with anything else I might say about myself. Also throughout my life, I've been told over and over that I'm wrong and just not remembering things correctly-that I've forgotten something crucial, and despite my best attempts I am rarely able to feel satisfied in any of the four conclusions: 1. I have indeed forgotten 2. Both I and my enquirer have forgotten details together 3. I remember correctly and my enquirer has forgotten 4. My enquirer is lying Some people have lied to me in ways which make me consider it for even the most minor of discrepancies: it sounds paranoid because it is, but there is a utility in lying to someone about the most minor details, it makes them unsure of any part of their reality. And that is where I love now!

I mentioned those memories, I have no idea how true they are! They feel true, they feel true in ways others don't, but I can only rely on external evidence to validate them and that can only take me so far. And when I right now am so detached from them. Its not like I try to lie- I never do, I cannot once think of a time I intentionally lied to someone. I've considered it, I've considered going behind people's backs for purposes cruel or altruistic, but I really don't think I've ever gone through with it. Does that even matter when so much of what I do is automated? I can say over and over that I'm not trying to lie, but I don't try to say anything that I do-I will occasionally slow down and try to think through what I'm saying but so rarely does this happen that even now as I type I have paused only *twice* to consciously edit or add things: once to count roughly how many people I consider a friend, twice to add the paragraphs about being a freak of freaks and my friends hating me. But if all that I do and say and think and want is just stream of consciousness, if none of it is planned, does the lying being unplanned make it any different? I don't know how many people I've really hurt, hurt in ways they will remember and impact them forever: I am sorry, I don't know what I can do to fix it, I want to but I just don't know how. Just writing that it sounds like it means nothing, apologizing to no one because I hate myself. I do hate myself, I try to think I've gotten through it but I fucking haven't, I need to stop lying to myself but I can't get a hold on what is true and real. I don't know if I'll ever feel real, if I'll ever feel like a genuine person: that's another lie, often enough I do, but deep down I fear that this question always lingers to rise from my stomach and grab my throat, that when I reflect on everything that's ever happened to me I will always have to ask Was I lying? Was I making it up? Was this really how I felt? Did this even happen? And I don't think I'll ever know, I don't think life can be proven to you and even if it can be I don't know how to prove it.

So welcome to the beginning and end of my blog! I plan on posting more, probably mostly how I feel, I figure once I write those out these will be the endpoint. I don't want to delete any of this I think, even if I come to hate it later I want to look back and understand the times where I felt truly honest with myself. The times where, and say it with me folks, I was a mythomaniac-freak!

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Outsider pt 1 (6/19)

Outsider Series

Chapter 6 Unbroken Fragments

The City of the Dead was a place of worship for Wakanda. An ancient temple erected to home their ancestors. A longed for heavenly connection that offered those left behind only acceptance instead of ascension. A vast complex of catacombs stretched along the land surrounding a tower dedicated to Kings of the past. It housed their family in hopes that they find peace within a town of their own.

The bodies of Tiakan and Drea now laid here.

Killmonger made it his mission to destroy any resemblance to unity that would seize the compliance he inflicted upon the people. He would have killed Ramonda. He would have slaughtered Shuri. The scholar of war, fire and death worked in his favor and he never hesitated to take it a step further. Though he wanted freedom, his cool calculated demeanor longed for the inevitable bloody battled for independence. Barren eyed vengeance passed for benevolence. The poverty in his soul only exacerbated the waking nightmare that was his existence. Tattered skin that bared marks of death made the best of them cower under his rule.

But not Tiakan, who died protecting Drea.  

King T’Challa allowed their remains to be buried within the halls of the Kings as they served their people at great cost. The irony of resisting an outsider, by once declared outsiders was not lost on Awenha.

She could smell the heavy fragrance of burned heart-shaped herb float up from the bowels of the tower. She sat planted on the ground facing the marker of their graves. Unshed tears collected and then fell down her cheeks. The flame flickered up from shiny new torches and danced in the dark. Through the shadows that twisted she saw a figure approach. In one motion Awenha wiped the tears from her face and welcomed the visitor.

“They will not be forgotten.” King T’Challa’s controlled and unruffled political tone was absent as he spoke. He moved toward her from the darkness of the crypt. She noticed his ceremonial robes fit for a funeral, though he seemed to drop most of his public persona as he casually waved. Awenha lowered and raised her head slightly, her eyes dropping to the ground until finally settling back upon their graves.

T’Challa sat near resting his arms upon the top of his knees. She felt the burden of his gaze and turned to him with watery eyes.

“You were always their focus, Awenha. Parents have a very humorous way of expressing their pride in their children. Some choose to hold on to secrets. Others give their children free reign to discover the world as it is.”

Awenha remained silent. His normally stoic expression cracked into sadness. The mask of duty slipping in front of her a memory surfaced of a boy who hung on his father’s every word. How he must have felt at the discovery, she wondered. To see the fruition of such an unspeakable mistake by the person you cherished.

“I will not order you to continue your father’s work. But I will hope instead, that the tradition can only be accepted if you truly want it.”

In the past she was always thinking of a way out. Five years away from Wakanda, felt like freedom. The ability to casually wander the world was treasured. But the world had bit back. She returned home to Drea, who loved Wakanda, and so now she loved it. Even when the tribe elders glared, or heard the hushed whispers as they passed. It all seemed trivial now. She could take it.

“T’Challa, the agreement between Titanis and the Golden Tribe will remain intact.”

She turned back in reverence at the graves, a small contemplative smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

“I wonder how many people have open agreements with Eternals.”

“With one Eternal.” Awenha corrected. “I’m third generation, cousin. I hardly count as an immortal being, T’Challa. See where my father rests? He’s not coming back. ”

A part of her wished it was not true. But she had never heard stories, family histories, or anything really other than the possibilities of power spoken between the three of them. She was cut off from ever knowing the truth of the past, the command that comes with wisdom eluded any semblance of an answer.  

The King shifted his weight and crossed his legs in front of him. “I have you been contacted by N’Juri?”

Awenha shook her head and grim expression crossed her face as she became lost in thought. N’Juri, her beloved grandmother had been silent for more than twenty years. In her mind, she could not rectify a mother’s absence to the fate of her son. She felt the well of anger in her belly spike. They had been alone since N’Juri left. Scattering only vague directions to continue to explore, grow in their power, and resist leadership roles. What power? Awenha scoffed to herself. For nearly her entire life she believed that N’Juri’s wisdom was the embodiment of maternal love. But as she sat at the plots of Earth, the feeling the contempt eroded any admiration she held. The woman never conveyed anything that Awenha would consider of importance. What good is Eternal genes if you still end up dead? She thought as reality ebbed at the illusion.

 “N’Juri is with Titanis now.” She managed to say between pursed lips.

“We are still your family, Awenha.” He spoke proudly as he rubbed her shoulder gently.

And it was the truth; she knew it was true even in the face of these events. The Golden Tribe had always accepted their small family no matter how far removed from the last King they descended. Their alien qualities were scorned by many who were outraged. And because of their presence others who sought refuge in Wakanda were never offered sanctuary. The method was weak. The approach though reasonable to Wakandans only returned full circle and her family paid the price. At least, she thought woefully, her pain was shared this time for many Wakandans had suffered as well.

“So.” He interrupted her thoughts as he spoke and dropped his hand from her shoulder.

Awenha turned to him, hollow eyes watching him intently. T’Challa’s face was turned at the graves of her parents but his dark eyes slide to meet her gaze.

“What are we to do with Sergeant Barnes?” 

“Did Shuri tell you?” Awenha asked patiently.

“She told me what I needed to know. That is another reason why I am here with you now. I am sorry I have not come to you sooner.”

“I have sat with this long enough.” Her words breathed out in relief. “His actions were not his own. I have accepted it. Absolution may not be for everyone but it is enough for me.”

One weight lifted from her spirit while another sat waiting for another day. The sentiment of anger connected with mentioning the soldier had dissipated. She was finally glad that the hysterical sorrow that had lived in her had departed. Though now replaced with grief, she was at least content that her dreams could be free of him, hopefully.  

“Fulfill your promise to Rogers.” She spoke.  “Sergeant Barnes deserves to live life.”

The Merchant Tribe lands of Wakanda were renowned. Pious vast mountains reached for the sky in the distance, a fathomless deep lake pooled in fertile plains lay surrounded by tall forests. Sergeant Barnes awoke within a thatched roof hut made of mud. The faces of young children with yellow and white paint around their eyes poked at his chest. Whispering to each other back and forth and giggling above him Sergeant Barnes opened his eyes. The children jumped in fright and giggles as they ran out of the hut.

He sat up feeling fully recovered from his mat and looked around his room. Nothing much had changed from the previous day; the same group of kids would follow him around when he left for food. Sometimes he would stand by the river and finally for the first time in years simply could think without the torment of not remembering.

His memories flowed to his consciousness as he thought on them. The fact that he could remember his mother’s face brought joy back to his life even in the moments of his the darkest recollections.

Sergeant Barnes’ got to his feet as he felt the dirt of the land underneath him and adjusted the front of his garment. The light of the morning sun in Wakanda was a real beauty. Anywhere he found himself was met with warmth and fresh air. He looked around the four other huts near him. The children gathered around a slender woman in a white jacket. They giggled harder as he approached then with one last look from the children they ran back to their homes.

“Good morning Sergeant Barnes’.” Shuri said with a warm smile.

She had been in his mind, helped him to erase what HYDRA had put in his head. Formality was for the rigid, and he felt anything other than stuck in tradition.

“Bucky.”

Understanding the dropping of regulated names she nodded thoughtfully.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

“Good.”A near undetectable smile shifted his expression but hung in shiny eyes as he stared at her. “Thank you.” His tone was softer than before but heavy with appreciation.

Her eyes brightened at his response a big toothless grin appeared and a mellow chuckled escaped her lips.

“Come.” she patted him on the chest playfully as she walked away. “There is much more for you to learn.”

Shuri pushed the release button on the pad she held, the snake motion of the wires attached to Bucky’s stub slid back into the diagnostic portal.

“What’d you think doc?” He asked with a playful light smile across pink lips.

“It’s working perfectly, of course. I just wanted to make sure your nervous system was accepting the interface panel.”

Shuri pushed long thin braids over her shoulder as she sat the pad down and sat astutely in the stool before the station. Bucky watched her movements amazed with her quick stroking of the screen. Her eyes analyzed the report as she pushed and slid to the next screen.

While she preened over the read out that popped up red on the screen Bucky eyes went to the floor. He wondered what the day held of course, but more so if there was a chance of seeing the woman from his dream.

He definitely remembered the curly mass of hair around an oval face and those tender brown eyes. But disappointment stayed with him when he realized the sound of her voice was fading.

“So.” Shuri said suddenly bring Bucky out of his reverie he looked back at her.

Shuri swung around on the stool her arms crossed with a single booted foot pushing her body left to right as she watched him. Bucky’s hair hung long around his face, icy blue eyes considered her as his thumb rubbed the first and third finger.

“What about your memories? Do you remember your life before what this organization did to you?”

Bucky’s eyes fell to the right his brows pinched in thought. He pushed by the thoughts of the woman in his dream to a time before his draft. Steve was standing at his door step rain drenched rat looking fellow with an amused look on his face. He had made ten bucks on a bet that Gordie Stewart couldn’t ride the trunk of a taxi longer than ten minutes. The dumb-ass busted his face on the pavement after two.

A smile formed on his face at the memory before looking back at Shuri.

“I do.”

Shuri returned his smile in kind.

“But I have this memory from the last time I was activated.” Bucky started but hesitated when he considered the young scientist’s age. “I attacked a woman in Berlin. I think I saw her here, when I was sleeping. I think.”

Shuri sat forward listening to the man her brows arching in shock as he continued.

“Is that possible…” Bucky shook his head with weathering grin to his sanity as he reconsidered what he was saying. Maybe it was just a figment or perhaps a shadow of what was left of his innocence.

“You see this woman in your dreams currently?”

Shuri stood with her bright eyes trained on Bucky’s confused expression. With a lost gaze he looked to her once before lowering them his fingers.

“I saw her last night.” A slight scoff escaped his lips. “But the memory or whatever it is, it’s becoming less clear.”

Even now as he pulled up the color of her skin it seemed less alive than the last. Bucky struggled to hold on to the last frame of her smile as even in this very moment the surrounding she stood in disappeared.

“She is real.”

Bucky perked up his eyes his expression brightening with hope. Shuri chuckled as she pulled the stool closer to the bed and sat back down.

“She lives here. But-But-!” She waved her hands as he started to speak. “She needs time and space. Otherwise she would have been one of the first faces you saw when you awoke.”

His face fell as hope drained from him before Shuri’s imploring eyes.

“Focus on your healing Bucky. She is doing the same. In time I think you will see her again, and not just in your dreams.”

He focused on the drop of water on the floor instead of the sensation. The mission was to inflict damage physically and mentally through means determined by programming. In a damaged society women find loss of security to be the most paramount risk. Taking it away would be enough to warn off any other attempts at her subterfuge.

He could smell her hot skin as his blank eyes moved to watch her. The water from her face flung as she shook her head. She cried out when he forced it the sound threatened to halt his advances within so he shut her mouth.

Bucky floated somewhere in between here and then as he looked out his own eyes helpless to stop it. His body felt the rush of gratification, his body wanted the release, and it was his body that wanted it to last longer. A thick film of lust covered and mixed with his waking mind. He didn't want it to end.

Bucky screamed but nothing was heard as he stood above her. Another scared woman he had successfully threatened. Though the method was new the effect worked.

The ringing, the god damned ringing, high pitched and deafeningly resounding shot through his brain. He was in the lock box room again the strike team watched Pierce watch him. Then another place green with trees busted into focus it was Steve laying on the ground covered in bruises. Passed the man lying unconscious the sound of water dripping from his hair hit his arm.

Then he was back, staring at the drop of water on the concrete floor. It wasn’t just water he thought with horror, it was tears.

Bucky shot up from his bed, sweat casting a slick sheen across his naked chest as he heaved in large batches of air. He slumped back down as a wail of sorrow moaned through the hut, tears poured from him as he lay wracked with emotion. The smell and feeling of her skin lingered on his senses, the ache of release stayed with him even as he willed it away. The taught muscles of his back flexed and receded with each eruption of new tears.

He hurt her. The woman from his dream and the woman from the JCT were one in the same. Guilt turned to pain as he tried to catch his breath. His hut made of mud was cool though warm air breezed through the cloth door. He made his attention focus on the smell of the grass and nearby lake. His breathing slowed, tears sporadically traced down his face into a ruffled beard. With a rough hand he wiped at them quickening the drying.

He pressed his eyes shut willing the image of her from the darkness of his mind.

“Please pull me from the dark.” He spoke to the night.

Like a cool refreshing gust of wind over a hot face he could see her standing there. Satiating the empty feeling that shame had carved out. Full lips parted into a smile that took his breath away, long black curly hair moved as if in water, surrounded by a blurry white radiance. She looked like an angel, he thought. Infinite and perfect to him, with shades of colors he never saw before as she watched him in return.

Bucky was starving, but not for food. But for the moment that never happened. He wondered if he was asking for too much. The old dreams of young adulthood, those minor pursuits and wants were lost to him now. He wanted her. The woman, who had touched his broken mind and did not shrink back from the challenge even when she knew his identity. And she was real, not this blurry image he kept dragging back up. 

He tried to recall the images their sharing of history. The fast colors that surged through him focused as she unreservedly opened up herself. An invitation, he thought. A sweet, delicious peek into the person who called to his inner indecisiveness. The fear and hesitation within him moved out of the way for her. And he felt a bit peace with who he was and what he had done.

But in those memories shared he saw the woman without the angelic façade. She was human and her fallibility was matched by her willingness to over come conflict. He got to know her in those fleeting moments, the real woman. He would not stop himself from wondering about her safety, if she was happier now or if she too had dreams that plagued her sleep. He had set his sights on her along time ago. He had decided to let the fear of obsession fall away. And now that he knew she was real. He felt the pull to be closer to her more than ever. She was the person he desperately wanted to be in his life. Someone who understood that the monster was forced on him. That the part of him she touched was good, though twisted. He had to believe he was more than what happened to him, despite how the trauma manifested. And he had to believe that this connection wasn't one sided.

Bucky drank from the memory greedily while urgently needing to feel some of what she had. It made him feel alive and hopeful for now, but it was getting harder to retain the powerful feeling of her. He wanted more than what his mind could offer. 

But he would have to settle for a fading recollection, for now.

[faithlore]

Why We Tell Stories

We tell stories to keep the spark alive. To feed an emptiness, answer a longing, or simply pass the time. To connect, learn and grow. Stories of lineage, tales of peculiar relatives, or that one neighbour rumoured to have been a lagahoo.

Those that came before us handed down their superstitions, dialects, traditions, and old wives’ tales. They were forced to work as slaves and indentured labourers yet brought the countries, they'd left behind into the ones they now occupied, through their way of life.

All my life I stifled my inner voice, and in doing so, shut out the voices of ancestors. Of my highest, most creative self. But I no longer wish to hide. I want to write and learn and grow as a storyteller.

I hope you’ll have the heart to stop by in this little portal of prose when you get the time. I hope my words resonate with some part of you.

Long time, when current gone in the night, we would huddle around candlelight or a pitch oil lamp and parents, grandparents, or some adult or older cousin would tell scary stories to pass the time while the rain pelted onto galvanise like pesky little jumbies.

They spoke of unbaptized children, or douen, who would steal a child's name spoken after dark and lure them off into the woods never again to be found. And la diablesse, the devil woman who seduced men off their paths home and to their deaths off ravines and cliffs.

Or the soucouyant, otherwise called Ole Higue, who shed her mortal skin, turned into a ball of fire and fed off the blood of sleeping locals.

It is believed that supernatural creatures thrive away from the city, in the countryside, in places where there is little light or commotion. But just because you have not witnessed a thing, does not necessarily mean it has not observed you.

The night and the dark have always allured me. I’m easily frightened, and a little superstitious sometimes, yet I find myself drawn to the occult and mythology and the things that go bump in the night. Will it prevent me from having a good night’s sleep? Very likely. I can’t help it, though.

If not for my curiosity and attraction to mystical and dark things, though, we’d not be here on Faithlore. Trinbago's folk tales, coupled with my love of lore and written storytelling is why I decided to start blogging.

What you can expect from Faithlore: spooky tales and the ramblings of a socially anxious weirdo. If you’re into that, hunker down and tune in for more.

[wytfut]

Robert (Bob) Brown

We all meet people thru out our lives that make a huge impression upon us, that changes how we deal with life forever, or until the next impressive character you come across. I’ve already wrote about a couple of them here on this site.

Good friend Jeff Brown I met on the job at Lincoln hoot and hollar, way back in spring of 1973 (I’ll let Jeff verify this date if so inclined). 

We both grew turning into adults somewhat parallel, lives. His wife when to East High, and so did my Wife (in fact they were friends). We both are car guys, and motorcycle guys.

Thru these similarities, Jeff and my lives bounced off each other many times thru the years. He and Anica are just good folks. And Patti and I get along with them very well.

As the years past I met Jeff’s folks. His Mom loved my last name, and would twist it all up hilariously every meeting. 

 Jeff’s Pop, was a very cool dude.   Bob, was quiet spoken. With always a hint of humor in his eyes. I never knew this past story until he was long gone. He impressed upon me that a person doesn’t have to be loud and brash to be interesting. Most likely one of the first people I met that guided me this way, other than Grandfather Baldwin Kruse. Unfortunately I don’t appear to practice what I observe, but I’m still impressed.

Jeff and family, brought all of Bob’s past history together and wrote it all down. And now pass it out on printed paper for anyone to read.

Its a fantastic story, that is hard to believe..... perfect for a story line for a Hollywood production. 

Bob was a radioman on a Marine bomber crew, during WWII. Black Sea Horse Battalion. And during a mission, They were shot down behind enemy lines. 

He and 1 other were the only survivors of this mission, and dodged death for about a month. Even protected by the local Natives of the area. Surreal, amazing... I don’t know the right words, that can express enough respect to this story.

In the future I may copy my copy of this story to reprint here. Its that good of a story. But for now this is enough for this blog. 

Jeff decided he wanted to get back into motorcycles. He contacted me, to help shop around. His specifics?... Indian or Excelsior Henderson, and it had to be black.    LOL

Found a lovely Excelsior Henderson outside of Council Bluffs, in the Loess Hills, and it wasn’t near black but the coveted Red and Oyster.

Jeff jumped into the EH community with both feet. And started to build his stash of parts and pieces (as we all do.... lololol).  One purchase was a blank set of tins (fenders and tank with no paint, as in raw metal).

Through this period of time, Jeff’s oldest son Nick was becoming interested, and more talented in “air brush” painting. ... 

Jeff had made a request Nick paint the blank tins in “3D” flames. Actually a great idea. But Nick out did this.

On his own with some help, he ended up making Jeff’s Super X a tribute to “Robert Brown's” past. 

As can be seen in the pictures, the art work is amazing. NO THIS IS NOT A WRAP. This is all hand painted. Air Brush, paint brush, and toothpicks.

Nicks “help” was some Cousins, Uncle or 2 and myself. This help consisted of stealing Jeff’s Super X, get the new tins placed on the bike, and haul it to Omaha for the world of wheels car/motorcycle show for its unveiling..... all without Jeff’s knowledge.

I also had the side mission of getting Jeff to the show in Omaha, without letting on what the real mission was. 

The unveiling at the show was an emotional moment. Jeff had no clue. Nick was beaming. Anica was taking pictures. People were clapping.  Tears were shed. Very cool piece of life..

A weekend or so ago, we hauled Jeff’s X to Kansas City World of Wheels show. Nick is still in the game to make his mark in this specialized skill. This show celebrates Automotive artists.... pin strippers, air brush, etc. All art work created at this show is auctioned off for charity.  I believe there was 20+ artist present. Nick got a ton of experience, and some sound networking. 

Jeff’s Tribute X won a very nice award. 

It was a great weekend. I know Bob would be very proud. Nick got his foot further in the door. I had another fun adventure with my buddy Jeff. 

What more could a person want...  

Find here from my youtube channel a video link I made of this trip to KC and back. I’m posting it here too, as some folks have a hard time getting around on various web sites. I’m one of those people, so I’ll do what I can to make it a bit more simple to help out us old blue hairs.

 And yes some photos from the Omaha show back in 2014.

Nicks website link if you are in need of this type of work. Please note, his work isn’t just automotive. He has been known to do Murals in homes, mail boxes, tool boxes, etc:

www.blackseahorsekustoms.com

https://youtu.be/Pysm6fw6FvA

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

She’s the Man (Fellowship x Disguised as Boy! Reader)

Requested by anon

Warnings: mentions of domestic/sexual assault, nudity, awkward public bathing. Might trigger a gender identity crisis in some of you folks, but don’t worry, join the club—we’re getting jackets made.

Synopsis: after having run away from your noble family and horrid husband, you cut your hair short and start dressing like a boy, presenting yourself as one throughout all of Middle-earth. This becomes hard, though, as you start travelling with the Fellowship, where they start to suspect something is up with their young “boy” comrade.

Restrictions, restrictions, restrictions—that’s all you’ve ever known. You first noticed the tight chains on your soul when you were five, when your mother forbade you from playing with the local stable-hands.

You next noticed it when you were ten, being forced to wear tight corsets to shape your body before it even began blooming.

The final nail in the coffin, however, was when you turned fifteen, and were married off to a local, and quite old tradesman.

Though he dealt in silken fabrics, he was anything but smooth or soft. The night of your wedding was painful in all regards, for at fifteen you weren’t even sure if you were allowed to remove the tight corset during the act.

Five years more of total misery accompanied you, as you were forced to attend noble banquets and celebrations.

You encountered a wide range of people, from the likes of Denethor and his two sons, to the sickly Rohan King. Of course, they did not encounter you, for you were not allowed to speak unless spoken to, which was rare.

The two sons of Denethor and King Théoden’s own son, Théodred, as well as his two cousins, Eowyn and Eomer, were the only ones to initiate conversation with you.

You quickly realized they were better-spirited than their parents, but didn’t have the chance to explore more. A tight grip on your wrist from your husband silenced you, as he tore you away from the circle of new acquaintances quickly.

That night, life in your guestroom with your husband was a living hell, as he reminded you whom exactly you belonged to.

That was the night you snapped.

Bruised and sore, you wept into your sheets. Your husband had long-gone to drink more wine at the party, leaving his young wife alone in a state of mess.

It was around the third hour of crying that you studied the tapestry on the wall above your bed. With hair wettened by your tears clinging to your puffy cheeks, you ran your reddened eyes along the art.

It depicted a strong soldier atop a horse, riding into battle. A sword was drawn, and his short hair flowing in the wind behind him.

Subconsciously, you reached up to your own hair, long in length—your husband’s desire—and pulled on it.

As mounted in every room, two swords crossed each other over a shield, making a pretty decoration above the mantle.

Looking between the bruises inside your thighs, the tapestry and the sword, your jaw quickly set. Your eyes hardened, as you threw the sheets off your frame and stalked towards the mantle.

Glancing over your shoulder, you ensured no one was entering your room. With an emotional mind made up, you removed both swords from the shield.

Hastily, you used one to bar the door shut, and walked to the centre of the room with the other. With no candlelight around, you knelt on the fur rug under a square beam of moonlight, which poured in through the bedroom windows.

You looked at your reflection in the sword, and studied the state of your misery. Despising your parents, your husband and your life, you quickly put the sword to your hair.

With only a second to build the courage, you sliced all long locks from your head, springing forward a boyish look—instantly freeing yourself from your lifelong chains.

Breathing heavily in shock, you looked at the clump of hair on the floor, and picked it up. One hand ran through your now very short locks, and the other fingered the cut clump.

However, shocked breaths soon turned into joyous laughter, as your chest swelled with pride and your eyes watered.

Standing up swiftly, you ran towards the bathroom and opened the drawers. Finding a pair of scissors, you got to work and began styling your hair further.

Soon, you were left looking like a boy, by Middle-earth’s human standards. Your hair barely scraped the nape of your neck at the back, and in front, you had a fringe swooping to one side.

Grinning brightly, and now on a roll, you ran back to the mantle. Opening your husband’s drawers, you quickly discarded your nightgown and slipped his tunic on.

Shrugging the loose fit over your form, you secured it with a thick brown belt, trousers and used your own boots.

Studying yourself in the mirror, you realized this must be how you would’ve looked if born a boy, and you were surprised within yourself over liking it.

Throwing your clump of cut hair into the fire, you soon began tying sheets together. That night, you escaped down the window and fled the city atop a stolen horse, riding towards your new life.

Five years passed by, and you had been on the run ever since. Life was never easy for you, but at least now you were calling the shots.

You had taken to your new life as a boy, like a duck to water, presenting yourself as the rather quiet and distant “Arlo”.

You kept your head down and worked hard wherever you went, whether as a blacksmith’s apprentice, baker’s boy or stablehand.

Your most favourite part of the road, however, was learning to use a sword. With a book stolen from a library and five years’ worth of nights to practice, you had become quite skilled. The spite drove you forward.

You vowed no one would ever best you in combat again, pushing you harder every day. Your best friend and only companion was your horse, Paxton, and together the two of you explored Middle-earth to its very ends.

Along your travels, you had taken to competing in swordfight competitions, where you earned most of your cash. Swindling them, you presented yourself as a weak and frail boy, but in the end ultimately beat them all.

You gained a reputation quickly, and were slightly infamous for your swordsman skills, despite being so small.

It was this reputation that led you to Elrond’s secret council in Rivendell.

Your eyes had gone wide in alarm upon entering the petal-strewn area—where the council was set to be held—for Boromir, one of Denethor’s sons, was there.

You almost turned and ran, but he caught your eye quickly. You didn’t know whether or not to avoid his gaze, but that would bring about suspicion.

He instead smiled warmly at you, and thought nothing of your appearance. You nodded back tightly, and took your seat far away from him.

You ended up sitting next to an elf, for you knew their gender worked differently from yours. He himself looked a little girlish, so you believed he’d think nothing of your appearance.

He studied you with a side-glance as you sat down, and nodded curtly. You clenched your jaw and nodded back, moving your eyes forwards again.

You discreetly let out a sigh of relief, as you found the coast to be clear. No one figured you to be a girl.

Soon, Elrond joined the council. You felt your breath hitch in your throat, as you realized his puzzled eyes lingered on you a little too long.

Worried he’d rat you out, you looked away. Knitting his brows, Elrond slowly tore his eyes away from you, and began the council.

Long story-short, you had been invited to participate on a dangerous quest, all food and expenses paid for. Unable to pass up such a good opportunity for you and your horse, you reluctantly agreed, offering your sword to the hobbit sworn to carrying Sauron’s ring.

The first few nights you kept to yourself, as an awkward air befell the Fellowship—none really knowing each other nor knowing how to interact.

Very quickly, cliques formed.

The hobbits kept to each other in a pack, Gandalf joining them. Aragorn and Legolas joined forces, and Boromir, Gimli and yourself found ranks in solitude.

However, this was not to last forever.

Boromir had attempted many times to strike up conversation with you, as besides Aragorn, you were the only other “man” there.

You kept it short and courteous, but made it apparent very quickly to everyone there that you were in no position to begin friendships. This was a job to you—nothing more, nothing less.

That still did not stop anyone from trying, though. After Boromir, Gimli was next. The topic of the night around the campfire was “women”, as they all discussed their perfect partner.

The conversation divided the group in half, over those choosing to go more physical in nature a direction, and the other half preferring emotions.

Gimli laughed heartily and elbowed you in the shoulder. “Forget this lot, eh? I bet you and I are exactly alike, laddie! Thick thighs and body hair all over! Am I right?”

Laughing nervously, you rubbed at the back of your neck. “Uh…not really…”

He blinked up at you in surprise for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders and pressing on in the conversation. Legolas studied you from across the fire, and made a mental note of your words.

Later on, when you were all setting up your rugs, Legolas approached you. He crouched down by your side and began helping to unroll your pack.

You recoiled from him slightly, and stared up in alarm. He looked back down at you briefly with a tight-lipped smile, and spoke.

“I agree with you from earlier,” he said. “I believe partnership should be about romance and emotions, not physical acts. How about you, mellon nin? Have a lady waiting back at home for you?”

You sputtered up at the prince, before averting your eyes and rolling your pack out faster. “No, I…uh, that’s not really my area…”

Legolas knitted his brows for a moment in confusion, before his lips parted in sudden understanding.

“Oh. Oh! Well, um…do you have a gentleman waiting back at home for you, then?”

Snapping your eyes up at him once more, you flushed.

“No! No! I, look—I’m really kinda tired.” You made a show of yawning loudly. “And I think I just wanna get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning, though…brother?”

Legolas blinked down at you a few times, before speaking and rising to his legs. “Oh! Uh, sure…that’s no hassle. Rest well…brother?”

“Will do,” you drew out, laying down.

He threw a glance over his shoulder at you, before walking away. He caught Aragorn’s eye as he walked past, with the ranger sat there puffing away on his pipe.

They both tightened their lips, looked away and raised their brows, figuring you were just a moody boy.

The most awkward situation of all, however, came a few weeks later. Having managed to sneak away from the Fellowship, you found a nice river, of which you could bathe in.

Paxton followed suit, keeping your towel wrapped over his saddle. He snorted in worry as you began to undress, revealing your body to the running river.

“It’s fine,” you laughed, girlishly. Your voice had returned to its normal pitch, for the first time in a long time. “Just because I’m pretending to be a boy as I travel with them, doesn’t mean I have to smell like one!”

Paxton snorted, and you knew he was telling you to hurry.

“All right, all right,” you laughed again, stepping into the water. You hugged your chest as you dipped below, submerging yourself fully.

Rising again, you exhaled a sigh of relief, and began washing the grime from your hair and face.

You were only in there for so long, however, for soon boyish laughter came from up the forested incline.

“Out of the way!” Pippin called, stripping off his clothes.

“No! You move!” Merry shouted back, also stripping down.

Behind them both, was the rest of the entire Fellowship, save for Gandalf.

Your eyes grew wide in alarm, as you watched them all meet the river’s bank. They then began undressing—Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, Legolas and the hobbits included.

Soon, they each all jumped into the water, splashing one another and laughing loudly. You found a large boulder within the river nearby, and swam behind it.

Peeking out from the side, you watched them all swim closer in a group to where you were. They began cleaning themselves, and soon just started to wade around—relishing in the cool feeling.

However, as you tried to swim away discreetly, Legolas’ elven ears caught you. He narrowed his eyes, and began swimming over to your rock.

Knowing you would be caught if you tried to flee, you pressed your back firm against the rock, lapping up against it.

Legolas was now upon you, and looked around the corner to find what was behind it. Once he saw it was only you, he beamed brightly.

Rising up out of the water, he folded his arms over the rock and leaned over, looking down at you.

You tried to not let your eyes drift or slip, as you stared back up at him. However, mistakes were made (but clearly not on his parents’ behalf).

“Hello, Arlo!” he announced merrily. “We didn’t know you were also in here.”

Upon hearing your name, the rest of the Fellowship waved you over, asking you to join them.

You chuckled nervously and began swimming backwards and away, speaking as you did so. “Oh, no…that’s quite all right! I, uh…just remembered I actually have something to do—”

“Oh, no! Don’t be like that!” Boromir chastised. He grabbed your wrist gently and reeled you back in towards him and Legolas.

Your shoulders went rigid, as you nearly brushed up against their bare bodies.

Soon, the hobbits, Gimli and Aragorn swam over to you, and you were more thankful now for the darkness of night than you had ever been.

Though, with one slither of moonlight in the right spot, you’d soon be exposed.

“Please don’t leave on our behalf, Arlo,” Aragorn encouraged, placing a hand on your wet shoulder. “It is good for team morale to bond like this. Besides, we’re all men here.”

“Some more than others!” Gimli announced. You looked up in the direction of his voice, and immediately covered your eyes.  

Gimli was stood with his hands on his hips, proudly naked atop your boulder.

“I am the king of this rock!” he announced. “Any competitors who’d like to have a go at pushing me off?”

“Please,” Legolas rolled his eyes, before he, too, swam over to the boulder and climbed atop it. “This will be the easiest fight of my life.”

Catching more than you wanted to see, you made a squeal of rejection, before forcibly pushing your way through the group and heading towards the bank.

Paxton met you quickly, and you swiftly wrapped the towel over your shoulders like a cloak, as to not make it obvious what you were covering, but doing so nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” you said to them, “but I truly do have something else to do…literally anything else. I’ll see you all back at camp.”

They watched as you left in a hurry, and shared glances with one another. Thinking nothing of it, besides your usual mood, they shrugged and returned to what they were doing.

This continued on for quite some time, throughout the entire Fellowship journey. Though, you never again attempted to bathe with them all around.

Fortunately, your travels soon took you out of the woods, and into the cities. Many fights had passed your small group, smaller now than before, by.

The most recent of battles saw many great feats—the “Battle of the Pelennor Fields” it was called.

In this battle, you had fought formidably. However, the true victory for women that day went to Eowyn. She had removed her helmet in the middle of the fight, pronounced she was “not a man”, like you had wanted to do so many times, and slayed the Witch-king of Angmar.

You were inspired greatly, but also so furious at yourself. You were also slightly jealous over the attention she got.

“What a brave woman,” Gimli would say.

“I’ve never met a woman so bold,” Merry added on.

“Truly remarkable,” Legolas agreed.

The six of you were sat in a stone courtyard together, camping out in the aftermath of the fight. Your jaw was rigid with fury, as you listened to them praise Eowyn over something you had been doing for the past few months.

Rolling your eyes, and making a show of turning over in your sleeping bag harshly, you quickly gained the Fellowship’s attention.

“Oh, and what is your problem, laddie?” Gimli snarked.

“Upset you were outshined by a girl?” Legolas taunted as well.

“You’re not that misogynistic, are you?” Merry chortled.

Aragorn glanced between your turned back and the laughing boys, before taking his own turn at scolding you.

“Arlo, Eowyn was a great asset today, and we are guests in her company. I will not see you sulking towards her remarkable feats.”

You glared at him over your shoulder, before huffing and returning to sleeping on your side. Your arms were folded over your chest, and your body burning in jealous rage.

“Gosh, what is the matter with you?” Legolas asked next, truly fed up with your attitude. “Why are you always in a bad mood?”

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a misogynist either,” Gimli remarked, smacking his gums as he ate a chicken leg.

You stayed on your side with your back turned to them for a few moments, glaring at the wall. However, the rage in your chest soon gave way to a lump in your throat, as you soon felt your secret burst within you.

“I’m not a misogynist…” you spoke up.

“Poppycock,” Gimli called you out.

Sighing, you sat up and looked at them to your side. “I’m not a misogynist, because…I’m not even a boy.”

Silence echoed around the courtyard, as your travel companions blinked back at you.

“What?” Pippin asked, squinting his eyes. “What do you mean you’re ‘not a boy’?”

Groaning through another sigh, and rolling your head, you pressed on. “I mean I’m NOT a boy! I’m a girl, for Eru’s sake…I’ve just been…presenting myself as one, for…reasons.”

“What reason could you possibly have to lie about something like that?” Legolas asked, not entirely believing you.

Feeling the urge to cry rising within you, you inhaled a deep breath and answered. “Nothing you men would understand.”

“I’m sorry,” Merry laughed, “but I don’t believe you at all. There’s no way you’re a girl.”

Glaring at him, you knew his words to be true. Knowing how to prove you were indeed a girl, you reached into your loose tunic, and began unwrapping the bind around your chest.

Pulling it out, you threw it down in front of the now gaping group. Without a shred of chivalry, still disbelieving you to be a girl at all, they glanced between the fabric and your chest, which indeed proved your gender.

“I don’t believe it…” Pippin whispered, staring with wide eyes.

In fact, they all did. With six pairs of male eyes on your chest, you felt very vulnerable and covered yourself.

This seemed to jolt them back to their senses, as they coughed uncomfortably and looked away.

The only one still looking into your eyes, was Aragorn. “Why did you feel the need to lie, my lady?”

Being called a “lady” for the first time in five years opened up a floodgate of emotions, as you wept into your hand.

“Yep, definitely a girl,” Merry rolled his eyes. A swift punched to his arm from Legolas silenced him.

Now knowing exactly how to deal with you, Aragorn stood up and crouched before you. He placed a tentative hand on your shoulder, and encouraged the other boys to come forwards, until they were sat all around you in a comforting circle.

“What is your real name, young maiden?” Aragorn asked softly.

Still sniffling into your hand, and bearing a downcast head, you spoke up in a barely audible voice.

“Y/n…” you revealed.

“What a beautiful name, Y/n,” he smiled warmly.

Like a turn of the tides, the boys all around took you under their wing, as if you were their own little sister. Everything about you now made sense, and they felt at ease with you instantly.

And, surprisingly, you found the same about them, regarding yourself. You didn’t at all feel threatened by their presence, but instead protected.

“I’m sorry,” you wept, shaking your head. “I had no choice, they made me marry him, and I-I couldn’t stay there, and then I had to make money so I ran with the lie and—”

They shushed your incoherent crying quickly, and rubbed at both your knees, back and shoulders comfortingly.  

They gained more information about your previous life in those few seconds than they had before in the last few months. They didn’t need to know anymore, nor wanted to, from the sounds of it all.

“Please don’t kick me out of the Fellowship…” you sniffled.

“Why would we do that?” Gimli laughed. “We now have TWO remarkable women in our ranks! Eowyn AND Y/n!

“A great win for us, indeed!” Legolas agreed brightly.

A smile broke through your tears, as they shook you softly and commended your swordswoman skills excitedly.

This carried on for a few moments, before you spoke up again, now smiling around at them through almost dried tears.

“So…you don’t mind about me lying? Or being a…woman?”

They shook their heads and returned your smile. “Not at all, lassie.”

Before the conversation could progress, however, Legolas suddenly recalled something.

“WAIT!” he gasped loudly, thinking back to the river. “THAT MEANS YOU SAW ALL OUR—”

“Let’s agree to never speak of it again, okay?”

“Aye, never again…sister.”

[enchantestuff]

miscommunication - charles leclerc

in which your Pierres little sister and reap the consequences after an eventful night in Monaco with his best friend

I think I'm going to make this into a series, like 3 more parts maybe??

part two

GIF NOT MINE!!!

warnings: smut, my failed attempt at angst (I tried), language, em yeah

3k words (I have no idea how that happened) 

You had known Charles for years, which wasn't particularly surprising considering you were Pierres little sister.

When you were little you envied their friendship, constantly trying to insert yourself in their games and conversations. You had lost count of the amount of times they slammed a door in your face, demanding you to leave them alone. You hadn’t realised how annoying you were being as you followed them around everywhere, even if Pierre had scolded you for it each day.

When you were a teenager, Pierre purposely kept Charles away from you, telling him that if he even looked in your direction he wouldn't hesitate to end their friendship. You, of course, had no idea of the threat not that it mattered as you didn't paid any attention to the infamous duo during those few years, living in your own little world full of clothes , friends and different boys.

Now, however, you were an adult and all you wanted to do was support your brother throughout his career. In recent years you had gone to as many races as you physically could, but of course you had your own job and unfortunately didn’t have the time to attend any race this season.

Pierre was disappointed, he loved having you there to support him, but he understood that you had your own life and never placed any blame on you. After years of the two of you constantly ignoring each other and bickering, you had finally begun to act like siblings and all he wanted to do was make up for lost time.

You had thankfully gotten three weeks off work - well they weren’t necessarily weeks off as you still had to do your job, but your boss insisted that there was no need for you to trek to the office everyday when you were perfectly capable of doing the work at home on your laptop. The timing couldn't have been better with the triple header just around the corner, it almost seemed like a miracle and you were gonna enjoy every minute of it.

You grinned as you texted your brother.

Any spare tickets to the race :)

He replied almost immediately.

You're kidding, which one?

All of them?

Your texting was cut off by Pierres contact photo appearing on your phone. You answered instantly only to hear Pierre screaming through your speakers, he also slipped in a few delighted curse words before finally letting you talk.

“My boss gave me the next three weeks off so I’m going to go support my favourite brother” you grinned.

“Your only brother” he remarked and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

You spent the next few hours catching up and retelling pointless stories. You had gone to sleep with a lazy smile on your face and  woke up the next morning to a text from Pierre, telling you that he had organized your passes for the three weekends as well as the flights, all you had to do was find a hotel. He slipped in the name of the hotel that he was staying at, and to your luck there was still room available. Now all that was left to do was wait.

You grinned giddy as you stepped off the plane and walked toward the baggage collection area, excited to finally get back to watching races in person. You rubbed your eyes in surprise when you spotted your brother waiting for you. “Pierre?” you screamed delightly, running up to him and pushing his body into a bone crushing hug. It felt like you hadn’t seen him in forever even if it was only a few months.

“Bonjour,” he laughed as he hugged you back.

“I thought you were busy all day today” you exclaimed once you pulled away from him.

He sheepishly shrugged at you with a lazy grin on his face. “I may have lied, are you ready to go?”

You nodded your head at him and for the first time in a long time your mind drifted towards your brother's best friend, Charles, who you hadn’t spoken to since an eventful night in Monaco a few months ago.

You cursed yourself as you thought back to that very moment.

Charles was having a party at his lovely home, you can't remember now what you were celebrating but everyone was ecstatic. You could hear the music from across the street and you knew before you even entered the house that it was going to be a night to remember.

The moment you stepped foot inside you were surrounded by multiple drunk people, all with large grins and hooded eyes plastered on them and you laughed as almost everyone stumbled around the house.

You spotted your brother in the middle of the room dancing with a pretty blonde, he had a goofy smile on his face and you knew from that sight of him alone that he was wasted. You were the only sober person there, at least that's what you thought until Charles had made his way to you with two cups in his hand, alcohol for you and water for him.

“I thought you were celebrating,” you mused as you took a sip of the dark liquor.

“Someone needs to keep these drunk idiots in check,” he joked.

“Well in that case” you said as you handed your drink to a stranger and took a sip of his water instead. You laughed at the bewildered look he threw your way before continuing, “I'm not going to let you tackle this party alone.” The smile that formed on Charles was genuine and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight.

You surprisingly enjoyed yourself the whole night, maybe that was because you knew everyone there, but most likely it was because you spent the whole night with Charles.

A few hours into the party he turned to you asking to dance, you didn't even hesitate to say yes, nerves surrounded you immediately and they only got worse when his hands dipped dangerously low on your hips. Your eyes automatically searched for Pierre and you left out a sigh of relief when you couldn't find him anywhere.

The thought of getting caught fueled both you and Charles, so when he spun you around to face him neither of you hesitated to connect your lips. You considered yourself lucky that everyone around you was too drunk to notice your heated make out and used it to your advantage. You pulled him even closer to you, moaning in his ear when he grabbed your bum and giggling at the whimper he let out.

You felt dizzy. The fact that you were both sober made your first kiss even more real.

You were anxious when he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere more private but agreed nevertheless, hoping that maybe he had wanted you for as long as you had wanted him.

He had tenderly kissed you again once he closed the door behind him.

“God, you have no idea how long i've waited to do this,” he moaned in your ear and although you knew that was just something people said in the heat of the moment, you let yourself believe it. You let yourself believe every single word that left his lips and got even more attached to the moment.

You revealed a piece of yourself to him that night, not only a physical part, but a part of your heart as you admitted your deepest secrets to him. “Fuck, Charles, I’ve always wanted you,” you moaned when he gently placed you on the bed.

You attached yourself to the kisses he placed all over your body, you paid attention to every bit of affection that he showed you, never once wanting him to stop. When he positioned himself next to you and asked if you were sure you told him there was nothing you've ever been more sure about.

You had both simultaneously moaned when he entered you, laughing at each other afterwards, which made your heart flutter. He was Charles, your brothers best friend and yet sex with him felt so natural.

He placed a tender kiss to your chest before he started moving and you couldn't help but hold him close to you, he didn't seem to mind however as he nested his head in the crook of your neck, letting you hear all the soft gasps and grunts that left his mouth.

You arched your back in pleasure when he reached the deepest parts inside you, your toes curled and your eyes rolled back and all you could think was God why didn't we do this sooner?

“Don't stop, please Charles, don't stop” you moaned in his ear, and if you weren't in a completely different world you would have noticed the shiver than ran down his entire body at your words.

“Trust me, mon amour, i never want to stop”

You weren't even aware of the moans the left your lips until Charles had grabbed your chin and looked at you with desperation written all over his face, “Merde, Y/N, i want more than anything to make this moment last but If you keep making those pretty little sounds you're gonna make me cum”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words “Shut me up then”

And he did, he grunted as he reconnected your lips, swallowing your moans and letting out his own in the process. From the kissing, to Charles’ moans and the rolling of his hips it didn't take you long to release the knot in your stomach.

You regretted it now, thinking back on it, it had completely ruined your friendship with Charles. Your daily silly texts to each other had ceased to exist, your weekly facetime calls had died and a piece of you had broken.

You didn’t expect any less, he was your brother's best friend and even though you always found him insanely attractive, you knew deep down he would have found your little crush on him weird. You always had the suspicion that he saw you as a little sister, and the way he completely ignored you after your hookup had proven them to be true.

You couldn't hate him, or even place the blame of your failed friendship on him as you also went out of your way to ignore him, something that you really regretted but couldn’t change.

“You alright?” Pierre asked as he grabbed your suitcase in his hand.

“Yeah sorry i - i don't know what happened to me there,” you choked out, walking alongside Pierre to his car.

“It's free practice tomorrow, you coming?” he asked once you were both sitting comfortably in his car.

“Yeah, of course” you nodded as you watched the tall buildings pass by in the window.

“Everyones misses you, you know?” he quickly glanced over at you while he drove, wondering what the hell you were thinking so hard about.

“Yep” you sighed, “Me too,” but all you could think about was the Ferrari driver and how awkward it would be to see him again

You had shut yourself in your hotel room for the rest of the night, the flight and overly long check in had taken all the remaining energy out of you and all you wanted to do was curl into the hotel bed and sleep for as long as you possibly could. So that's what you did, until Pierre rang your phone, telling you that he was leaving for free practice in half an hour, wondering if you needed lift, which of course you did you had mumbled to him while scrabbling out of the bed and running to your bathroom to take the quickest shower of your life.

You had somehow gotten ready in time and before you knew it you were walking around the paddock with Pierre next to you, basking in the glorious sun.

Pierre whistled in excitement when he spotted Charles walking out of the Ferrari motorhome. The brunette quickly turned at the sound, a smile forming on his face when he spotted Pierre, his eyebrows raising soon after as he finally noticed you next to him. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as he got closer and closer to you.

You stood firmly in your spot, uncertain if a hug would be too big of an action after months of silence between you both, quite frankly you didn’t even want to touch him, the pain that he had caused you cutting too deep. Unfortunately, he beamed at you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest and rocking you both side to side.

“Hi,” you laughed, unwilling to cause a scene in front of your brother, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck.

“It's great to see you” he admitted when he pulled away and you felt your throat close up at his words. “I’ve missed you”

“I missed you too,” you smiled and although it wasn’t a lie, the words felt dirty leaving your lips. You shouldnt have missed him, not when he left you lying alone in his bed after you both had sex.

“God, you're acting like you haven't spoken to each other in months,” Pierre laughed, and you and Charles shared an awkward look with each other. The silence that followed was unbearable.

You cleared your throat as you looked around the paddock. “I'm going to get some water” you quickly spilled out and abruptly turned in the other direction, ignoring the confused look that Pierre shot in your direction. You had only taken a few steps when Charles grabbed your arm and pulled you behind a random building.

“Shh it's me” he flinched as you pushed yourself away from him, “it's me” he repeated looking at the bewildered expression on your face.

“You couldn’t have just talked to me like a normal human being?” you argued, “Did you really have to drag me behind a building?”

“I couldn't talk about you know what around you know who” he threw back and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh! You dont want to talk about us having sex infronf of Pierre” you snapped and he covered your mouth with his hand. You bit his hand and he gasped in response.

“You bit me!” he half shouted.

“You didn’t seem to mind last time” you commented , relishing in how flustered Charles had gotten.

“We need to talk about that” he choked out, looking absolutely anywhere except your eyes.

“Oh so now you want to talk about it?” you asked with an accusing tone to your voice, surpringing not only Charles but also yourself.

“I know it was a dick move, I just” he sighed “I didn’t know how to bring it up”

“How about maybe not leaving straight away? How about sending me a text explaining how you felt instead of leaving me in the dark for months? If you thought it was a mistake you could have just-”

“I didn't think it was a mistake”

You couldn't help the effect those words had on your heart, but suddenly you were even more furious, he was unintentionally playing with your heart and you didn't know how much more of it you could take.

“Then why didn't you tell me!”

You were frustrated and he wasn’t helping one bit. He had left it too late, the damage was done, you had spent months regretting your decision to climb into bed with him and a few words lazily strung together to form a sentence wasn't going to erase the emotional damage he caused you. It didn't matter anymore whether it was intentional or not

“I didn't want to ruin our friendship”

“That is the dumbest excuse I've ever heard!”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes and all you wanted to do was sob your heart out, but you refused to cry in front of him, you didn't want him to know the effect he had on you. “Look your late and i - i need to breathe”

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you ran away, unable to face the boy who broke your heart: the boy who had given you everything you could possibly want, only to snatch it out of your grasp.

You cursed yourself for getting attached to that moment because now, every time you closed your eyes, all you see was him panting on top of you and all you could feel was his lips on your skin. It was a memory that used to delight you but now all it brought was sadness and pain.

You knew your attachment issues would bring you pain one day, but only now as you crouched down next to some random building, did you realise it would be physical pain. You clawed at your neck in desperation. You couldn't breathe. Your tears were practically suffocating you and you couldn't help but think Charles' hands ripping your heart from your chest was the cause.

Unknowingly to you, Charles watched your retreating figure with tears forming behind his eyes. It had finally hit him how much he fucked things up. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought maybe you needed space, maybe you would have regretted it.

He wore his heart on his sleeve that day, everything that he told you was true, he was just so scared. So scared that he would be left heartbroken, that his feelings were unrequited, that maybe, just maybe, you would be disgusted with yourself for what you two did.

He left early the next morning to hype himself up, to finally tell you about his feelings for you that had been bubbling around in his stomach for years, but when he returned to his bedroom you were gone.

He didn't realise how much waking up to an empty bed would affect you, just as much as you didnt realise how much leaving would affect him.

He was never good at communication, but it was so easy with you, so why didn't he pick up the phone? He had no excuse except that he was scared.

It was his fear that hurt him the most. It was his fear that broke your heart and that had hurt him so much more than he thought was possible.

[dindadjarin]

DECLARATION - Chapter 2

CAPTAIN REX KNIGHT AU

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Knight!Rex x Princess!reader

Warnings: some violence but not much, and a little blood if you squint. There is kissing in this but idk if it’s a warning. 

Summary: Being secretly in love with the Knight Captain that protects you in the palace isn't easy. When the Queen insists you marry someone soon, you realize your heart will never belong to another but a future together seems almost impossible to think of. Now after your feelings have been confessed, a new danger resurfaces, and it has nothing to do with the Queen. The two of you are willing to fight, but circumstances try to separate you.

AN: I know I’ve taken a long time to post this part but I am very happy with how it turned out. I hope you enjoy it! Chapter 3 is on its way already. Shoutout to the 501st for being the best friends the Captain and the princess can have. If there's a typo no there isn’t.

A cool breeze rustles the trees, the sound soft and soothing around the East Wing Garden. You look up at the one that is currently offering you its shade–there’s sunlight peeking through the leaves as they move, it’s beautiful. Sighing in content, you lean closer to the man sitting next to you, who continues to read out loud for the both of you to enjoy. Knight captain Rex has his gaze focused on the book in his hands. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed in concentration, and you can’t help but focus on him rather than the story he’s narrating. The strong shape of his nose, his brown eyes, the sound of his voice as soothing as the rustling leaves. Some sunshine reflects off his metal pauldron and on a patch of his jawline, your eyes see the way his chest rises and falls with each breath and spoken word. Unable to help yourself you trail your gaze back to his face again, his focus –not unlike that he shows while he trains–transforms his face into a different work of art. Not the soft one he saves for you, with his hidden smiles and shy looks whenever you hold hands, no this is different. This is Rex putting his all into everything he does– even if in this case, that is reading a novel for the two of you.

Two weeks after your heartfelt declarations, your feelings have done nothing but intensify and bloom into an even stronger connection between you both. If anything, it has become even harder to hide a smile when you are in the same room, while passing each other in a hallway, or even at the thought of him during dinner with The Queen. Her absence since this morning–off to visit a friend until tomorrow–has given you enough breathing room to spend the afternoon in the garden with Rex. Making the most of his free afternoon, the two of you had rendezvoused at the garden, you with a book in hand and Rex with a beautiful rose in his. Your heart had been pounding with the anticipation of seeing him, being close to him, and the calm that settles over you when you’re together. You feel safe, treasured and most importantly, seen, not for being princess but for being yourself. The two of you can truly talk, and you can speak your mind without caring that it might be “improper” for a princess to say or that it’s something a princess “shouldn’t concern herself with”. Rex loves to hear your ideas and you love to hear his own.

The thought of being like this, whenever you wanted, freely and happily, makes you smile to yourself as your eyes follow the path from the crease of his brow down to his moving lips. There is a soft tingle on your own at the memory of that kiss, as if they are asking you to do it again. A sigh escapes you. You imagine a time when you can steal a kiss without fear of being seen –on the dancefloor perhaps, as he twirls you around to the sound of a beautiful melody and sports that soft smile of his that you love.

“I don’t think you’ve heard a word from the last 2 pages, cyare.” The captain says, his tone light and teasing, bringing you out of your own head. A smile is on his lips as he turns to look at you. Brown eyes meet yours and a breathy chuckle leaves his lips when he scans your face –most likely noticing the lovestruck look currently on it. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head shyly, trying to rid yourself of the idea of kissing him again for now. “It’s just… how can I focus when I’m talking to my father in four days.”

“There’s no need to apologize, my lady.” He says softly, bringing your hand up to his lips.

You keep a hold of his hand and smile. “Can you imagine what it would be like if he accepts?”

“I can, it fuels my hope.” His smile is soft, the secret one he only gives you.

“I think I feel it in my heart, Rex. I can see it so clearly too… you and me, holding hands in front of whoever is around. Not being alone at balls anymore.” Shaking your head with a smile, you move to stand up, tugging Rex along with a soft a laugh.

He obliges, eyes adoring as he sets the book down. “Well, you never went to any ball alone.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “You know what I mean, love. Though you accompanied me, you always had to stand back while I was forced into small talk with self-absorbed people.” Rex laughs at your fake retching mimic, and you smile at the lovely sound. “I would have loved to have you by my side instead. To dance with you and not those unpleasant heirs.” You take Rex’s other hand, and he must see on your face what you’re hinting at because he places it gently on your waist.

The two of you stand chest to chest after a glance around the garden, then, with an encouraging smile from you, Rex starts to lead a silent dance. Your feet take two steps back, followed by two steps forward and a twirl that makes you laugh. You’re not surprised at the captain’s smooth steps or the fact that he remembers everything you once taught him perfectly, twirls and all. There are smiles on both of your faces as you continue to dance, surrounded by bushes adorned with blooming gardenias. Your heart feels heavy with love and gratefulness for the man in front of you. You know he isn’t very fond of dancing, but he’s mentioned before that he likes the way you light up when he does, so he indulges you. Your captain twirls you again, this time holding your other hand and bringing them both over your head, then down in front of you until your back is pressed to his chest.

“I’ve never really liked it when you had to dance with them.” Rex confesses, his voice close to your ear as you sway side to side.

“I knew it.” You say with a smile, letting go of his hands briefly to turn around and face him. “You always said you weren’t jealous, but I knew otherwise.”

Rex shrugs his right shoulder and tilts his head before his hands find yours again. “It wasn’t jealousy… Ok maybe it was just a bit of jealousy, but it was mostly about not liking how uncomfortable you looked, or the way they stared at you. That’s not how gentlemen should look at a lady.”

You sigh, bringing a hand up to caress his cheek, sure that your eyes show the resignation you feel. “They’re always going to look at me like that, love. In the eyes of society, I’m the King’s land, fortune, and palace in a pretty dress.”

“Not to me. Not in my eyes, my lady.” His frown shifts to a fine line, his eyes honest and fierce as he gazes into yours. “I know you, and your heart. They’re more valuable than all riches combined.”

You chuckle and look down at the ground shyly, your hands move down to rest on his shoulders. “I know, Rex, thank you. Just… don’t let it bother you, alright? Soon, we could be dancing with each other, and I’ll be the happiest at any ball. It all depends on–” As the last few words leave your lips you tense, and your hands fall to your sides. Your mind panics as it remembers that all will depend on the audience you requested, on the King’s decision. A cold shiver runs up your spine at the thought of it resulting on your father’s anger, much like your mother’s.

“What is it?” Rex is quick to scan his surroundings, fearing you sensed something being wrong. When he finds an empty garden, just as it had been before, he asks you the same question once more. His hand holds your cheek gently so you may look at him and he immediately frowns at the worry in your eyes.

“What if he sides with my mother.” You whisper. “He could agree with her instead, Rex. W-what if I make a mess of things?”

Rex shakes his head. “We are doing this together, my lady, don’t let nerves get the best of you. You’re the bravest of us both, and you’ve been so optimistic for weeks.”

You take a deep breath and try to silence all your anxious thoughts. Your mother’s anger, your father’s denial of your request, the separation that could be forced upon you and the man you love. Instead, you focus on what you can control and nod slowly at Rex’s words. “We have a plan.” You say, reassuring yourself. “I talk to the King, as his daughter, and from my heart and you will–”

“I’ll be just outside the door. Should the King request for me to speak I’ll go in and stand right by your side.” His hands fall to take yours and bring them to his lips when he whispers. “It’ll work out. You said you could feel it before, right?”

You smile as your heart flutters at the soft kisses he places on your knuckles. “I could feel it in my heart.”

He smiles at you then, his charming and disarming smile, the one that never left your mind the first day you met him. That was years ago, look at us now. His eyes are soft and reassuring while your thoughts are consumed with nothing but the two of you being together –an established couple that can show affection freely. You feel yourself getting lost in a world for the two of you, where the rustling of the trees is the only sound that can be heard. Rex’s eyes shift downwards to your lips and your breath catches in your throat. You remember how minutes ago all you could think of was the kiss you had shared weeks before. It seems like the captain’s thoughts have gone back to that same memory, but you gaze away from him to see if you are truly alone. Caution always goes first for the two of you, at least for now. It could change in just four days.

“May I?” Rex asks in a whisper once you’ve made sure no one will see you. He takes a step closer and slowly brings his hand to your cheek. The touch lights your skin on fire, it’s thrilling, intimate, and you’re already breathless when you answer.

“Yes.”

Rex leans down to press his lips to yours at the same time you stand on the tip of your toes. You can’t help the shuddering breath that escapes your lips at the feeling, or the fluttering of your stomach when your lips part and move softly against each other. The captain holds your waist with one of his hands and pulls you closer to him as you seek one another, wishing to be as close as possible. It’s intoxicating, the intimacy of it all, how the softest brush of his lips against yours sends your heart into a frenzy and how a firmer kiss makes you dizzy. That’s how you know you must stop before you lose track of time and don’t feel someone coming to the garden. What a shocking scene they would find–the captain of the 501st and the princess kissing so lovingly they would have to look away.

Rex’s lips chase yours when you part, and you smile at the way he blinks his eyes open until they settle on you. “I wanted to do that for a while.” You confess with a chuckle.

The captain scratches the back of his neck as he grins. “I did as well. It was…”

“Wonderful?” You offer, your lips still tingle.

“Even better than last time.” Rex says almost shyly, though his eyes are so full of love that you make yourself look away, otherwise you’d kiss him once more.

You offer him your hand again, which he takes before the two of you start walking towards the tree you had been sitting at before. Rex leans down to pick up the previously abandoned book but stops short when he sees Lieutenant Echo moving hurriedly towards the two of you. You frown, wondering if you had been caught during the kiss and Echo was coming to warn you. It turns out that his hurry is due to an entirely different reason.

“Your highness. Captain.” Echo nods before taking his helmet off. “The King has arrived from his journey. It seems something has happened, and he hurried back to the palace three days early.”

You are taken aback by the news, knowing your father is one to stick to his plans. This change must have been brought on by something he discovered during his journey. “Do you know why he’s returned earlier?”

“No, your highness, but he has requested to see Captain Rex and Commander Cody in the meeting room right away.” Echo addresses you before looking at Rex. “It sounded pretty urgent.”

Rex nods at the Lieutenant. “I will be right there. Thank you, Echo.”

“Not a problem, Captain.” Echo puts his helmet back on and looks at you. “Your highness.”

“Thank you, Sir Echo.” You smile at the knight who then turns around and returns to his post, as a lookout for the two of you. When you turn towards Rex, you see there is a hint of worry in his eyes.

“I doubt he knows about us, love. His request is likely about what happened during his trip.”

The captain nods, reassured by your words. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I have to go then.” His eyes scan your face, like he’s fighting an inner battle between staying with you or leaving. He is a man of duty though, so duty wins. “Let me walk you back to the castle.”

You nod your head, accepting both the book and the rose from him and walking in comfortable silence to one of the palace’s doors. With a glance over your shoulder, you look back at your garden, and suddenly there’s a sinking sensation in your chest that feels a lot like saying goodbye. Something tells you it will be a while before the two of you set foot on the garden again. Rex notices you’re not following him anymore and stops his stride.

“Is everything alright, my lady?”

The next breath you take is shaky, but you nod your head. “I’m fine.”

The captain nods and continues to walk with you down the East corridor until you reach the staircase where both of you must part ways. “Good luck and thank you for a wonderful afternoon.” You smile up at Rex.

“There’s no need to thank me my lady, I really enjoyed it too.” His hand finds one of yours again and his lips, like always, press the lightest of kisses on the back of it. “I hope I can see you later, cyare.”

“Me too.” You say with a squeeze of your hand and a smile. When you see Rex still show some concern for you in his eyes you reassure him once more. “I’m alright Rex, truly. You’re going to be late.”

With one last smile from your captain, you both let go and head to different sides of the palace. You go up the stairs to your bedroom while Rex turns right and makes his way to the King’s wing. Now all you can do is wait until your friends in the 501st know what the King talked about in the meeting so that they can tell you.

---❀---

You have dinner by yourself an hour later and as you walk back to your room you spot the knights who are being delegated to their nightly posts out on the courtyard. You smile when you notice the knight giving the directions for the night is Lieutenant Fives. If anyone has the information you want to know, it’ll be him. You linger just outside of the courtyard until he’s done, and wait for the other knights to leave before you approach him with a conspiring smile.

“Good evening, Sir Fives.”

“’Evening, your highness.” He nods before taking his helmet off. He gives you one of his characteristic smiles, which you return. It’s always smiles with Fives, he’s a very serious and dedicated knight, but he manages to include fun in his duty no matter the circumstances. “If I may, I don’t think you should be out here alone. It’s starting to get dark, and it might not be safe.”

“I’m with you, Lieutenant, so technically I’m not alone. Besides I needed to ask you something.”  You say, hoping the look on your face conveys your curiosity.

Fives sighs, staring up at the sky and shaking his head. “I knew I shouldn’t have given you information that one time.”

He chuckles when you shrug nonchalantly before he nods. “Alright, your Highness, I’m guessing this is about the King’s early return from his trip.”

You smile before lowering your voice. “Yes. Rex and Cody were called to a meeting with the King, Echo said it was urgent. Do you know what happened? What they discussed?”

“Pirates, your Highness.” Fives lowers his voice as well, looking around before continuing. “One of the kingdom’s coastal villages, Liana, has been attacked and raided. Food, harvests, money, and clothing, all gone, thankfully only a few people were injured.”

Your eyebrows meet in the middle as you process the Lieutenant’s words. “But I thought pirates had been dealt with by the neighboring kingdoms years ago.”

“It’s likely some escaped from prison and gathered men until their crew grew large enough as it is now.” Fives says, a frown replaces his previous smile.

“Which is?” You prompt, bracing yourself for the answer.

“Fifty ships, your Highness.” Fives sighs. “They have spotted them far from the coasts of many Kingdoms. The King has left commander Wolffe and his men back at the site where they first attacked to make sure no pirate stayed behind, though one can never be sure.”

You grimace and start walking around the edge of the courtyard, Fives does the same by your side. You let out a breath as you go over this new information, your gaze straight ahead. Fifty ships? How has no one noticed this happening, were they stolen or bought under false pretences? Most importantly, with a crew that big, they can raid many coastal villages not only of this kingdom, but the others too. What about the people of Liana? They have been left with nothing– their main sources of trade are now gone along with their food. Oh, and the children, what about them?

“They have built a fleet right under all of the kingdoms’ noses.” You shake your head, looking up at Fives who lifts his gaze from staring at his helmet and the blue design painted on it. “We are going to need all the help we can get because we don’t have enough ships. Was something mentioned about talking to other kingdoms?”

Fives nods. “The last thing discussed was the King sending letters to the others to plan preventive measures. He’s left to his study to do that while commander Cody and Captain Rex keep going over strategies to capture the pirates at sea.”

“I wish I had been summoned to this meeting. I could have given some insight of my own.” You frown, stopping on your spot and turning to face Fives once more. “My father knows I’d like to be involved in matters like this, they are too important not to know about them.”

Fives shrugs, frowning at how upset you look, a stark contrast to your usual happy demeanour. “I’m not sure your highness, but there will be another meeting in the morning. I’m sure the King will request that you attend that one.”

“Even if he doesn’t, I will be there. Someone needs to speak for those who have been affected.” You switch your frown for a determined look. It is likely your father has only focused on attack strategies and has yet to consider the affected village’s needs.

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t, your highness.” Fives chuckles, giving you a knowing smile, most likely remembering the many times you have showed up at the King’s meetings. It was always Rex who told you when and where these meetings would take place, but sometimes he sent the information over with Fives.

“I’m sure you’ll do the right thing, but you should head back inside. I need to leave and check on the West Wing knights.”

You nod, giving him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Sir Fives. I appreciate you telling me all this.”

“It’s nothing your Highness, just don’t tell anyone it was me. Good night.” He gives you a nod before putting his helmet back on. He’s about to turn around when you call his name again. “Yes, your Highness?”

“Could you tell captain Rex to get some rest if you see him? I’ll see him in the morning.” You say.

“Of course. I’ll make sure to do that.” He nods his head, then his voice takes on a teasing tone as he asks another question. “Anything else you’d like me to tell him? Or perhaps there’s a letter you’d like to send?”

You laugh lightly shaking your head no. “Not this time, Lieutenant. Have a good night.”

Fives chuckles too before nodding once more. “You too, your Highness.”

---❀---

There are few people you have allowed yourself to trust throughout the years. One of them, your lady’s maid Nathalia, is high on the list. Assigned to your side since you were sixteen and always loyal to you, you are sure there is no better friend and confidant in the world than her. You’d trust her with your life if needed, though you hope it never comes to something like that. Nathalia knows about Rex of course; she could tell you had feelings for the captain the minute they started. The kiss, however, remains a secret. You only disclosed your confession as well as your decision to tell the King with her and nothing more. It’s something intimate between your captain and yourself so you didn’t tell her about it, not to mention that she would still be teasing you endlessly if you had.

“I support you in anything you decide, your Highness.” She had said. “This is no exception.”

Now, after you’ve gotten ready for bed, and a navy-blue robe covers your sleeping gown underneath, Nathalia stays by your side in your drawing room as you scan over the documents laid out on a table. You have parchment and a quill on your hand, scribbling down your ideas to put them together in a convincing plan to show your father. To your right, Nathalia scans the map of the kingdom while you add up numbers to know the right number of supplies to buy based on Liana's population.

“Yes, your highness. Greymoon is the closest and biggest village to the palace that will have more than enough supplies for the people of Liana to get back on their feet.” She speaks up, then reads out the population count and the square feet of territory the village has.

You listen carefully and nod slowly while you process her words, Greymoon is triple the size of Liana. Nathalia is right, it’s the best choice.

“Perfect.” You say when she’s done, your quill scratching the parchment as you jot down the information. “The best move forward would be to take part of the legion and some carriages to Greymoon. There we can purchase the necessary supplies: food, clothes, blankets, toys for the kids, seeds for new crops, silver, and gold.”

Nat nods. “Then you set off to Liana to deliver the supplies to them.”

“I’m sure my father will object me going there personally but you know me Nathalia, I won’t back down.”  You sigh, putting your parchment down and pacing around the table.

“It is dangerous your Highness.” Nathalia tries to see the reasoning behind the King’s possible objection. “We know pirates are roaming that area and they could attack you, if they figure out that you’re a princess.”

“I know, Nathalia. But this time they don’t have the element of surprise like they did in Liana. The knights will accompany me.” You smile, stopping your pacing and staring at the map in front of you. It is a dangerous idea, but if it means the people of Liana will recover from the attack, so be it.

“I will accompany you too your highness.” Nathalia’s words make you look up. When your gaze meets hers, her eyes show determination. “What you’re doing is dangerous and it scares me, but it is honorable and kind, I want to help you.”

“Are you sure you want to come with me? I know how nervous you get with these types of things.” Your smile is kind as you offer her a way out, should she want to stay at the palace.

“But who will do your hair if I don’t go?” She says with a chuckle and a knowing look. You’re about to tell her you’ll do it yourself, or leave it as is, but before you can she holds her hand up.

“Don’t say you’ll wear it down. You’re still a princess your Highness, and your bedhead is not a good look.”

You try to act offended, but you can only laugh and nod. When both of your laughter dies out, you approach her and envelop her in a hug. Your feeling of gratefulness is clear on your voice when you speak again. “Thank you, Nathalia, you really are the best friend I could have. I appreciate you offering to come with me, though we need my father’s thoughts on this mission first.”

“He’ll say yes your highness. His majesty won’t be able to ignore the fact that the people of Liana need immediate help, and I’m sure a certain captain might be able to help you during the meeting.” She raises her eyebrows teasingly and you shake your head as your stomach does a flip.

Ignoring her teasing, you change the subject by making one last request for the night. “Would you mind helping me get ready early tomorrow morning? I still don’t know the time of the meeting, but I’d like to be ready.”

“Of course, your highness, I will be here as early as I can.” She nods and you smile. “Can I also recommend you go to sleep now? Now that you have your plan, you must rest.”

“In a minute, I still have some details I want to research a bit more about both villages we are visiting. You can go rest though, I’m all set for the evening Nat.” You give her one last hug before turning back to the books you selected from the library and your own bookshelves.

“Alright your highness, I’ll be here at dawn tomorrow.” She opens your closet and sorts through the dresses in it before choosing one for the meeting. It’s a lovely shade of pastel yellow, with flowers and delicate details embroidered on it. She hangs it by the changing screen next to the closet before gathering the dress you wore today in her arms and taking it with her. “Don’t stay up too late alright?”

“I won’t. It will be just a few more minutes.” You look up from the books in front of you before smiling at her. “Have a good night.”

“You too, your highness.” She smiles, and turns to leave through the front door, closing it behind her.

You stretch your arms above your head with a yawn before going back to your books. Turning a few pages in the book in front of you, you find the information you need. Greymoon has the same type of soil and harvest as Liana so you will be able to buy the seeds for the affected farmers there. You write down the information and do some more calculations on how much you would have to buy for it to be enough for all the farmers –all with the help of the book. The king will need all the information available if he is to let you go on this mission, and you are prepared to provide it. After several minutes of reading over your notes for the second time, your eyes start to get heavy with sleep and you know it’s time to call it a night.

You put out some of the candles you had lit in the drawing room and return the books to their respective shelves, leaving those that belong in the library on the table. Once everything is in its place, you cross the doorway that leads to your sleeping quarters. Only a few candles are lit around the room; they usually are until you’re ready to sleep and proceed to put them out. It’s just what you’re about to do when you hear the sound of metal against stone followed by someone’s grunt from the balcony. Your bare feet take you to the big open doors leading towards it, where you see three grappling hooks on the concrete railing that surrounds the balcony. Three pairs of hands settle on the balcony’s floor and your brain starts screaming: SOUND THE ALARM NOW.

Right away you go back inside and move to the side of your bed where the emergency bell is located –once you pull on it, you know the knight’s tower will be alerted of intruders. You hear it faintly in the distance as soon as you do, but you will need to buy the knights some time –it’s a big castle so you need to keep them here for them to be captured. Running to your closet, you take your sword out of its hiding place. It was gifted to you by Rex after you convinced him of teaching you how to defend yourself. He said it was for your protection and you’ve kept it in your room ever since.

You need to make the most of every second, you can hear Rex’s voice in your head, focus on buying yourself time.  

You glance at the balcony again where three men are climbing over the railing, they have dry white skin, with deep cracks on it and it’s looks as if it’s peeling in various places. Their beards are different in length and color but the three of them sport the same braid on its right side. It has what frighteningly looks like an honest-to-God tooth braided in at the bottom. They’re all taller than you, but thankfully two of them are not well built, their lack in nourishment evident in the way their clothes hang from their frames. The last man though, looks strong enough to put up a fight, and as he steps on a patch of light you see a deep red cover the dryness of his face. Constantly sunburnt then, no doubt the pirates that raided Liana, and now they’re here getting closer with each step. How the hell did they get here?

Fear tries to take hold of you, but anger and determination keeps it at bay. They caused so much suffering, and they dare show their face here.  “Tup!” You yell as loud as you can, grounding yourself by holding the sword in your hands tightly. Tup’s the knight standing in your hallway on guard duty tonight, and you hope he can get to your room fast enough and help you.  “I need help!”

The clanging of his armour is heard faintly but it grows stronger with the passing seconds.

A sneer comes to your face at the look the three men give you, the same you’ve seen in the face of many others during events and balls. It’s a disgusting glint in their eye, one that overflows with entitlement and borders on predatory. It’s the look many men get when they see something they want, and someone says No. In one look they show how they think the word doesn’t apply to them and they will do whatever they can –most times something immoral– to get it. Men like this scare you, but they also blind you with anger. As a princess at an event, you can’t do anything but politely embarrass these men in front of their party, but you have a sword now and you sure as hell will use it.

You grip your sword tighter the moment the men take their own weapons out. You raise your sword when one of them approaches you –thankfully not the strong-looking one– and point it at him as you back away a step.

Two missing teeth are shown by the man in question, his own sword raised towards you. The other two men take a step towards you as well. “No need to be scared princess, we won’t hurt you if don’t give us reason to.”

“You won’t lay a single finger on me.” You pour venom in your words and harden your stare.

Before the men can attack, they are distracted by Tup charging into the room. His sword is drawn, and it immediately clashes with two of the pirates’. Missing Teeth keeps his gaze on you and steps closer predatorily. His eyes search your face and your skin crawls with disgust and fear.

“Don’t make this difficult, sweetie.”

And there it is. Who knew his disgusting endearment would be what spurs you into action. Rex would have your head for that, you think to yourself before striking first.

The pirate blocks your strike swiftly, and though you doubted it, he is relatively strong –you make sure to plant your feet more firmly on the cold floor. He strikes again, this time to your left side  but you use both hands to block his sword with yours, they make a loud clanging sound before you attack three times in succession, each strike is quicker than the next. You’re smaller than him and it allows you to go for his weak spots, his sides and chest mainly. Though you hoped your speed would make him lose his footing, you’re proven wrong when his sword cuts the skin above your left bicep, the sting of the blade slashing through your skin makes you curse but you refuse to back down.

Taking a step behind to assess the situation, you see the pirate in front of you pant with exhaustion, his eyes are wild and not focused anymore. He looks desperate and not thinking ahead, you can work with that. Gripping the weapon on your right hand tightly, you attack once more, following a sequence you have seen Rex himself use many times during his training. Your first strike is high in the air, followed by a lower one by the pirate’s hip, one in the middle close to his chest and the last one is low again. Taking the momentum from the last strike, you twirl your wrist. The blade of your sword goes under and over the pirate’s, pushing the hilt of his sword towards his thumb –the hand’s weak point– and making his and your sword fall out of your hands in one move.

The swords fall to the ground with a loud CLANG to which the pirate lets out an angry snarl. He’s surprised at first, not believing your amateur swordsmanship bested him, but he recovers quickly and tries to step towards you. You, however, attack before he gets the chance to get any closer. With a turn of your right hip and leg, you let the movement push force to your hand as you throw a punch straight to his nose.

No one ever expects a princess to throw a punch, and frankly, underestimating you it’s their mistake.

Pain shoots through your hand after it makes contact with the bridge of the pirate’s nose, but you barely register it. Instead, you think ahead of your attacker and look at the swords that fell just moments before. Missing-Teeth clutches his nose in pain as you move to take both swords from the floor and point them at him –one at his neck and the other to his chest, the most lethal places according to the knights. To your left, Tup has the muscled man pinned to the ground and the other unconscious next to him.

A second later, while you’re still breathing heavily more knights rush through the door and enter the bedroom. Two of them, Dogma and Echo, take a hold of the pirate in front of you. Echo holds his sword under the pirate’s chin as a threat while Dogma cuffs your attacker’s hands behind his back. It is only when he is secured in their grasp that you drop the swords you had been holding and stumble back onto a seat by the bed.

“Your highness, I’m so sorry this happened.” Tup speaks from where he stands by the door. His eyes are full of remorse and worry, and you shake your head in an instant.

“This wasn’t your fault Tup, please don’t feel guilty. I am grateful that you came to my aid.” You try to give him your most comforting smile, as comforting as you can manage with the state of shock your body is falling under and let out a breath of relief when Tup offers a smile in return.

Your shoulders hunch as your posture slackens once Tup turns back to help the other knights. The hiss of pain that leaves you is inevitable when you try to rest your right hand on the seat’s cushion. With a glance downward you can see your knuckles have turned a dark shade of red from the force with which you hit the pirate’s nose, and your wrist hurts when you move it, likely sprained. Still, you held your ground and defended yourself, which is what you were told to do by the brave knights of your battalion. By your captain.

Echo’s voice sounds distant to your ears despite him being in the same room as you. “Make sure those cuffs are tight and take them to the dungeons. Tup, Hardcase, you stay and guard the door.” You don’t realize you’re tearing up until Echo’s voice, clearer now, makes your head snap up. “Your highness, I have already called for Kix, are you alright?”

You try to lighten the mood, showing him your injured hand, “Told you self defense was a good idea.” You chuckle through your tears then stop short, your mind racing again when you remember a key detail. “My father! Is- Is he okay?”

“He is your highness. No pirates got to their majesties wing. Captain Rex and commander Cody were also there, so the King is safe.” Echo shakes his head. “But he is to stay in his office until the grounds have been thoroughly checked. You can’t leave until then either. The captain told lieutenant Fives to station men outside your balcony for the time being. I hope that brings you some peace of mind.”

You sigh, and nod looking down at your bare feet which are incredibly cold. Everything part of your body feels incredibly cold, even a shiver runs down your spine. The sound of hurried footsteps makes your head snap up again and glance to your left.

“Rex.” You breathe out when you see him walk through the main door.

He’s barely crossed the drawing room and the second door to your sleeping quarters when you stand up and approach him, cold feet moving on their own accord. Echo is quick to act, moving to the door and shutting it lightly. He likely sees how shaken you are and knows just how protective Rex is, he is making sure no one else who doesn’t know about you two walks in. It is no surprise when you are immediately surrounded by Rex’s arms as you cling to him as best as you can with only one uninjured hand. His armour is cold, and it makes you shiver again but you don’t care, his hands are warm enough to make it better.

“I’ve got you. I’m here, it’s okay.” He soothes and whispers the words next to your ear. He’s trying to calm you down, you realize, because the second you were in his arms you had started to cry.

Your tears only continue at his soft reassurance, all the fear you had pushed through before washes over you now that all the adrenaline is gone. You don’t know why you’re whispering his name through your tears; maybe you’re reassuring yourself that he’s there with you or letting him know how glad you are to be in his arms. You don’t care, only holding him tighter, without injuring your hand further.

“Rex.” You whisper again with a shuddering breath before uttering the truth. Things could have gone very wrong for you, and you can’t bear to think about it. “I’m scared.”  

“I know. I know, but you’re safe now, so is the King. Cody and I have all the wings under heavy surveillance and men scouting all the grounds. Nobody is going to hurt you, not if I can help it.” He rubs his hand up and down your back, soothingly. You lean closer to him, seeking his warmth and protection.

You’re in the safest place there is, in his arms, where you know no one can try to hurt you.

“Are you hurt badly?” When he feels you nod against his chest he stiffens, worry lacing his next question, though his voice stays soft. “Where?”

“The princess has a cut on her arm and hurt her wrist.” Echo speaks up from where he stands by the door, watching the soft display of affection between the two of you. Captain Rex is a serious man, and he never puts down his walls, but it changes when he’s with his princess. He shows a new side of himself that Echo is sure he would have never seen from the captain if it wasn’t for you.  “Kix should be here any time now.”

You let yourself take deep breath in and step back; you can’t risk anyone finding you embracing Rex. You force yourself to calm down and summon your composure and all your strength back to deal with the matter at hand. Rex’s eyes hold worry in them when you lift your gaze up to meet his, but he smiles softly at you– the slight curve of his lips the loveliest sight. He wipes your fresh tears away before his hands fall to his sides and he looks at your arm with the cut in it.

“It’s not a deep wound, it hardly hurts anymore.” You say, wiping more tears away before nodding towards your injured hand. “This one does.”

Rex frowns at the chuckle you let out, knowing you’re trying to lighten the situation, but the way your voice shakes the slightest bit gives you away. When his eyes fall to your hand he grimaces, the bruised knuckles and swollen wrist look painful on your smaller hand. You know he’s tormenting himself because those men found a way to sneak into the palace, that you’re hurt because of them.

“I’m sorry you got hurt.” Rex says, eyebrows furrowed as worry washes over his face, you can see his anger towards the situation is there too but it is toned down by his concern. He takes your hand gently, careful not to hurt you, and places a quick kiss to your bruised skin.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” You say when he lets go of your hand. “You should see the pirate’s nose.”

“It’s broken.” Kix’s voice makes you turn around. Echo seems to have opened one of the doors once you stopped hugging Rex so the medic could come in when he arrived.  “I saw him as I made my way here. He was complaining to the others that no one mentioned the princess could throw a punch.” There is brief amusement in his eyes as he greets all of you.

“He has Rex to thank for that.” You chuckle. “He’s the one who taught me.”

“Your Highness if you please.” Kix motions for you to sit down, and to the left sleeve of your robe. You nod and take your arm out of the sleeve so he can begin tending to your wounds. “I apologize, this is going to sting.”

You’re about to tell him not to apologize but the sharp pain on your cut stops you. You squeeze your eyes shut as you let out a hiss and Kix reassures you that it will only sting for a few more seconds. You look up to see Rex, his brows are furrowed while he looks at the ground, a deep frown has taken over his face. Echo’s expression is the same, but his gaze is directed at the open balcony, most likely wondering the same thing you are.

“Why here?”

“Pardon me, my lady?” Kix asks as he moves to your other side to inspect your sprained wrist. “Oh, this is sprained alright, you need to ice it once I’m done bandaging it.”

Echo and Rex look up at your question, so you continue. “I mean, how did they end up in my room of all places. There is nothing valuable that they can steal to sell, and my father’s wing is on the other side of the castle.”

Rex gives you a baffled look, but he quickly covers it up with a blank expression. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what that look was about but saying nothing.

“I was asking myself something similar, my lady, but we’ve got three of them locked up. We will find out why.” Rex’s voice turns a shade darker, his protectiveness making itself known for the first time that night.

“But you have a hunch?” You ask, curiosity in your tone. Your eyes feel heavy but the pain coming from the bandage Kix is wrapping around your wrist keep you awake.

Echo looks at Rex before nodding. “I think the Captain and I have the same idea as to why, but I think confirmation from the intruders would be better. Best not jump into conclusions.”

You’re about to speak up but Kix’s voice makes all of you turn towards him. “This is ready, your Highness. Try not to put any pressure on it, I will call for Nathalia to bring you some ice and help you with anything you need.” When you nod, he gathers his equipment and stand up to leave, nodding to his fellow knights and heading for the door.

“Thank you, Sir Kix. I appreciate it.” You say before he leaves, and he gives you a smile in return.

“No need to thank me, your Highness. Try to get some rest.” With that, the medic leaves the three of you in the room.

“Echo, can you give me a moment with the princess? I’ll be right outside to go talk to the prisoners.” Rex speaks up, you feel his eyes on you, which makes you look up to meet them.

“Of course, Captain, I’ll wait in the hall.” Echo gives his Captain a nod before he looks at you. “Good night, your Highness.”

“Good night, Sir Echo, and thank you for your help.” You offer him a small smile, and watch as he retreats from the room, closing the door on his way. As the door clicks shut, your eyes find Rex again and you voice the question you had kept to yourself during your conversation.

“What was the look from before for? Did I… say something wrong.”

Rex shakes his head as he moves to sit by your side, his eyes soft like they always are with you. He angles his legs to the right so he can look at you, and you do the same to the opposite side. “Ner karta, my love, don’t you know there is nothing more valuable to my heart than you?” He looks down, shaking his head and taking your uninjured hand in his.

Oh. You ignore the flutter inside your chest–his heart, his love–to focus on his words.

There is nothing valuable here that they can steal to sell, your own words come back to you and make you frown.

“Oh… Rex, I’m sorry.” You shake your head as you think of how your loved ones would be affected if something had happened to you. Your life, it extends to everyone who’s heart you’ve touched just as much as their life is intertwined with yours. For Rex and yourself, a connection so strong between your hearts, puts you at risk of a great loss if something happens to either of you. Rex is your heart’s treasure, of course you’re his as well.

“I only considered material things, I- I forgot to consider myself too.” You bring his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles.

“There’s no need to apologize, my lady, I just need you to know you’re right here in my heart all the time.” He touches his chest to make his point. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for your protection or your happiness.”

You grip his hand in yours tightly, the words speak next hurt as you speak from a tightened throat. “Rex you are my heart and I know. I know I’m safe, and always will be, if I’m with you.”  

Rex shakes his head, looking at the ground. “When the alarm came from your quarters, my heart… it felt like it stopped. I was on the other side of the palace and if you had needed me, I would have been too late.” He looks away, as if disgusted with himself and it breaks your heart.

Carefully, you let go of his hand and place yours gently on his cheek instead–his gaze meets yours instantly. “Who did everything in his power to station all knights across the palace grounds and to search for any other threats? I’m sure that was you, and I’m sure you did it instantly and on instinct.”

He looks away from you briefly before he sighs and nods his head. “Every second counted.”

“And you made the most of each one. You trained your knights to respond immediately to any threat, which is why Hardcase and Dogma and several other knights got to my wing right away.”

“You still got hurt.” Rex shakes his head again and stands up, his eyes never leaving the balcony door. “I couldn’t stop you from getting hurt.” His voice turns into a whisper at the last few words.

“You can’t keep me away from all harm, Rex. It isn’t possible and you know that.” Your voice is soft as you approach him, though there is firmness in it that he won’t be able to miss. You move to stand in front of him. “You were there, in every moment of tonight that kept me from major harm. Things could have been worse, we are both aware of it, but you taught me how to defend myself and it bought everyone enough time to capture those intruders.”

Standing on the tip of your toes for your eyes to be at the same level as his, your unfaltering gaze meets his own. You need to make sure he knows you won’t let him blame himself for anything that happened minutes ago, and that any negative self-talk will be argued against. This man, the brave captain that owns your heart, deserves nothing but love; he cares for everyone around him but forgets to show the same kindness to himself. You won’t stand for that.

“I don’t know what I would have done if–” Rex whispers, his eyes fixed on yours.

“Let’s not think about the past anymore, alright? I’m here, right in front of you, and safe. Safer than I could ever be because you always look out for me.”

His right arm goes around your waist, bringing you close to him, and your eyes fall shut the moment his forehead falls against yours. “Always and without a doubt, ner karta. Please don’t think my concern for you comes from doubt towards your skill, it’s just the thought that there were three pirates that could have-”

You close the distance between the two of you for a kiss, it’s brief but that is enough to release the tension that had settled on both Rex’s and your shoulders. You’re about to pull away when Rex brings you closer to him, his hands cradle your face and you melt. You part your lips and Rex sighs against your mouth. You’re so strong, my love, so strong and so beautiful. I’m so glad you’re okay.  His words are mumbled between kisses and when you feel his tongue lick your bottom lip, your uninjured hand clings to his shoulder. He’s never kissed you like this before, so intensely, all his feelings on the forefront. His hands move to your waist and you kiss kiss and kiss him back to convey your own feelings through them. I’m alright, we’re alright. It only lasts a few seconds because you know you have to pull away. Though you’re both reluctant to leave each other’s space

You smile when your eyes meet his again, dark brown in the candlelit room but softer than before –the tightness around his eyes gone. “Better?” You ask, smile never disappearing, not when Rex smiles so beautifully at you.

Rex chuckles, and you’re close enough that you feel it against your lips. “Considerably.” His eyes are shy as they look at you, knowing he’s never kissed your lips with such passion.

“Me too.” You’re about to brush your nose against his jaw, seeking more contact, when a knock at the door that makes you move your gaze away from his. “Just a minute.” You call out before you feel Rex’s hold on your waist leave you.

“You should rest peacefully now, cyare. I’ve stationed men in every possible entrance, you are safe.” The look on Rex’s face is determined, with a softness that shines through when his hand holds your cheek gently. “I will see you in the morning, the King’s meeting is at six.”

The two of you share a conspiring smile; you both know you are attending the meeting one way or another, Rex is just making sure you get there at the right time. “Thank you, love, for everything. Please try to get some rest.”

Rex gives you a noncommittal nod of agreement before saying goodbye. “Good night, my lady. I love you.”

Your heart doubles it’s beating at those three words, the most beautiful ones to exist. “And I love you. Good night, captain.”

You finally step away so he can make his way to the door, revealing Nathalia waiting outside; there’s a bucket of ice in her hands along with other supplies you’re sure Kix provided her with. Rex greets and thanks her on the way out before disappearing out the second door and into the hallway. You stare after him, warm with love, lips still feeling the ghosts of his kisses.

“Your highness, are you okay?” Nathalia approaches you in a rush, “I heard the alarm, but I wasn’t allowed out of my room until now. Sir Kix gave me instructions to treat your sprained wrist, what happened to it?”

“Nathalia please don’t worry so much, I’m fine.” You smile at her concern; she always gets nervous about everything and anything, it’s endearing sometimes but you worry she’ll get a stress ulcer. “I just punched a pirate on the nose.”

“That- Wow. That’s not what I expected you to say.” She chuckles, setting are the implements Kix sent with her on your nightstand. “Let’s get you new sleeping clothes, that one probably has blood underneath.”

You nod, and move to the changing screen, shrugging off  your robe and your nightgown with your uninjured hand. Nathalia places a clean change of clothes over the changing screen and you thank her softly. You’re yawning by the time you get in bed and Nathalia helps you ice your swollen wrist. She’s put ice inside a cloth pouch and your sprained hand on top of it; she’s also brought some healing ointment but Kix had informed her it’s for the morning when the swelling has decreased.

“Nathalia.” You call out when she’s gathering some of the things she’s brought, ready to leave. “Can you stay here tonight? I’d feel better sleeping with company and you’d already be here to help me in the morning.”

“Of course your highness.” She smiles kindly. “After what you went through tonight I wouldn’t want to be alone either.”

You sigh with relief and pull back the comforter for her to settle into bed with you. Nathalia puts the candles out, closes the balcony doors and gets under the covers.

“Thank you.” You whisper in the dark.

“It’s no problem at all, this bed is really comfy.” She chuckles and you do the same.

Then, because you can’t stop thinking about it, you tell her about Rex’s kiss. “Rex kissed me tonight.” You say, voice soft as your mind plays back the memory of his lips against yours once more.

“What!” She sits up on the bed, and you though you  can barely see, you can make out the silhouette of  her hands covering her mouth. “How was it? How are you so calm right now, how did you stop kissing him? With the way you two love each other, I would’ve thought you’d move to the bed in a heartbeat.”

“Nathalia!” You gasp, ears burning.

“Ok ok, but jokes aside, tell me.” She settles back into bed, you can hear her smile in her voice. “You’ve dreamed about him kissing you a thousand time. Was it everything you dreamed it would be?”

You nod while your fingers play with the comforter. “I think it was better than my dreams. He was so gentle, but at the same time he was strong and intense and I felt his love would consume me whole.” Your lips feel like they’re on fire when they remember the soft and firm brushes of his lips, the hint of his tongue that almost made your knees buckle.

You smile to yourself, remembering everything as if you had kissed him just now. There’s a skip to your heart’s usual rhythm when you remember the way Rex had stopped holding back for a minute and kissed you like you would disappear if he didn’t. He kissed you like you’re air, and your brain keeps asking you to seek his lips again. “I hope I can marry him someday.” You confess, eyes tearing up, you can’t bear a future without him.

“You will, your highness.” Nathalia says softly, yawning before she speaks up again. “Your hearts are one.”

“I hope you’re right Nathalia.” You sigh and get more comfortable in the bed, the meeting is in a matter of hours and you need all the rest you can get.  “Sleep well.”

“You too, your highness.”

You fall asleep seconds after you close your eyes, brown eyes and soft lips invading your dreams.

---- 

Chapter 3 >>>>

[yoongsisbae]

Caught! House of Cards - Chapter 2

WHOA I am amazed by all the love this story has received so far, chapter one has become my most liked post, huh?! I'm in shock, thank you! My thirst for muster Joon fueled this to be released earlier than anticipated, so enjoy! ;)

OT7 yandere!BTS x reader, Yoongi x reader & Taehyung x reader & Namjoon x reader focused this chapter

Warnings: 18+ dark themes, voyeur, masturbation A LOT of it, gaslighting & reader manipulation, shibari, intoxication, dubcon, choking, public nudity, sexual touching in public, dom!Namjoon & sub!reader

Word count: 5.3k

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You press record and the red light on your webcam lights up. Your heartbeat races as you navigate the House of Cards website. You already have viewers and you’ve only just spent your time staring at the chat. You wish you had picked something sexier as you sit cross legged in an oversized shirt and sleep shorts. You wear a red eye mask to conceal your identity, part of an old superhero Halloween costume you pulled out from the depths of your closet. You felt like a dumbass. ‘Super Girl wouldn’t have to do this kind of shit.’

“Sorry, i-it’s my first time...m-maybe I could take suggestions?” You watch the chat move as you hold your breath. You wanted to sound sexy but you can’t stop stuttering out your words.

You’ve never been more anxious in your life, the ends of your fingers feel numb and you can hear your own pulse thumping in your ears. You’re openly inviting strangers to get off on your body, you’re about to expose yourself in ways you’ve never done before. This isn’t like sending a sexy photo to a boyfriend when you’re feeling needy, this is so much more reckless.

Just when you’re starting to regret doing this, just when you’re about to end the feed and hide in humiliation, a notification ding pulls you away from your thoughts.

Suga: take off your shirt

Your on-screen balance goes from zero to a hundred dollars. You gulp and your eyes go wide at the amount. A hundred dollars just to take your shirt off? That seems too good to be true.

‘Okay, this is what you signed up for, y/n. It's now or never!’ You mentally hype yourself up. You keep your mission in mind, make enough money to keep a roof over your head for this month.

Your shaky fingers find the hem of your shirt “F-for you-” you squint reading the username again, “For you, Suga.” You lift the shirt slowly off your body, exposing the curves of your breasts, revealing your red lace bra to your viewers.

The collar of your shirt gets stuck around your head. You feel like an idiot as you try to wrestle the shirt off your body without pulling off your mask.

---

Yoongi snorts at his screen, his lips curving up into a half smile. He sits behind two computer monitors. He watches as you stutter out apologies to your audience, entertained by your clumsiness.

He peers over his shoulder, to where his friends are playing a game of billiards. “Hey, we have a new one!”

“Oh yeah? It’s been awhile since someone joined.” Namjoon puts his pool stick down and walks over to Yoongi to get a closer look. He laughs, “What is she doing? Is this her first time?”

“It is,” Yoongi hums.

“Ah, well now I’m intrigued.” Namjoon pulls out his cell, quickly pulling up the website on his phone.

Yoongi licks his lips, “I think she’s cute.” He watches another hundred dollars add to your total as someone asks for you to remove your shorts. He notices the username and sends a glare to the man standing over his shoulder.

“What? Just trying to move the show along.” Namjoon gives Yoongi’s shoulder a shake. “You never did like sharing.”

“And you never knew how to properly take care of my toys.”

Namjoon laughs. He studies your figure and the way you move back and forth awkwardly on the bed. You’re trying to find the best pose for your request until you finally decide to lie on your back and lift up your hips, pulling your shorts down and off your legs so you’re in nothing but a bra and panties. He leans over Yoongi’s shoulder, eyes level with his monitor to get a better look at you. “She is very cute. I could have a lot of fun with her.”

Yoongi grunts. He watches you press the cups of your bra together to show your cleavage off for him. The chatroom viewer count jumps into 3 digits. You’re so eager to please your audience, he thinks, jumping at the chance to perform the simplest of requests. And he is eager to learn just how far he can push you.

Yoongi types a reply quickly and hits the donate button. He hears his friend let out a low whistle next to him.

---

A thousand dollars?! Someone just donated a thousand dollars. What the hell?

Suga: spread your legs for me. touch yourself.

Your breath hitches. You watch as another wave of viewers are added to the chat, another trickle of donations following. You feel high from their attention, and the money just keeps on rolling in! You've been so worried and stressed since lockdown happened and now you're almost guaranteed to accomplish your goal, finally something is going right, your heart jumps in excitement. It’s starting to feel...fun. You had discarded your embarrassment along with your clothes, thrown somewhere in a heap on the floor. You lean back on your palms and bring your knees together. You can feel the damp cloth of your underwear rub against your core. You’re ashamed to admit how turned on you are. The higher the viewer count goes the wetter you become. You slowly spread your legs to the camera, reveling in the game you're playing with your faceless admirers. Your eyes read over the chat, taking in all their praises of your body. Flattering compliments intermingled with salacious requests pass by the second, it’s overwhelming, and only serves to fuel your arousal.

---

Your sweet voice plays through Yoongi’s speakers, “Thank you Suga.”

“Oh fuck, she’s so wet.” Hoseok pulls up a chair next to Yoongi and Namjoon. They all stare at the screen, at the center of your light pink panties. There is a noticeable dark spot that propels the chatroom into a frenzy.

“Take a look at that view count, it’s one of our highest this month, right?” Namjoon asks Yoongi. He hums in acknowledgement. “They really have nothing better to do now that we’re all stuck in our homes,” Namjoon jeers.

The three men watch silently as your breathing escalates, taking note of how you shake and moan. Hoseok uses the camera on his phone to zoom in on your face scrunched up in pleasure and takes a snapshot.

Yoongi raises an eyebrow at his friend. “I’m just showing Jin! She’s his type.” Namjoon laughs. Hoseok cocks his head to the side in confusion while Yoongi scoffs.

Of course you're Jin's type, Yoongi thinks. You're so beautiful and Jin loves to treasure beauty. Jin loves to admire his treasures, taking pleasure in finding the cracks within perfection to break them wider. He's going to have to watch out for Jin.

Yoongi’s and Hoseok’s phones ding with a notification. “Did you have to do that?” Yoongi questions Namjoon, starting to feel annoyed. He pasted a link to your stream to the group chat.

“They are probably already watching. Look,” he points to your view count, soaring into the thousands. The man on his side gives him a dirty look.

---

You place your hands inside your bra and panties, still not comfortable enough to bare it all just yet. You cup your breasts and roll your hips into your palm getting off on the friction. Your soaked panties pull on your hips, stretch against your knuckles, revealing parts of you every once in a while to the camera. How many men had their dicks out right now, how many were falling apart with you? The thought made you clenched down on nothing, covering your hand in your essence. You pull your hand away from your core and put your palm in front of the camera, showing off your wet fingers to your faceless admirers.

---

Taehyung groans. You wiggle your fingers to him, traces of your arousal drip in between, he imagines himself licking each digit clean. He imagines his own long fingers stuffing you instead, pulling sweet moans from your lips, you dripping all over him. Fuck he wants to taste you, he bets you taste so sweet, just divine.

His hands fists his hard erection, his tongue between his teeth as he watches you on his laptop. Each time you cry out in pleasure, he thrusts into his clenched fist, imagining your tight cunt wrapped around him instead. Taehyung almost loses it when you let out a needy whine, imagining all the ways he could make you cry and whimper at his hands. He wishes he had you here so he could taste and smell your body, god if you were here he would make you cum over and over again until you cry and beg him to stop.

---

Someone sends you five hundred dollars, the second largest donation of the night.

V: You’re so beautiful

No request, no lewdness, nothing other than the simple phrase that you didn’t realize how much you ached to hear. Your face goes hot. You let your hand speed up. You try to imagine the words spoken, whispered in your ear, focus on them besides the dings of your laptop and wet sounds coming from your soaking core.

You imagine a man on top of you whispering how beautiful he finds you. You throw your head back lost in pleasure, letting your fantasies overtake you until the heat inside you bursts. You gasp and shudder, forgetting about the camera on you, riding out your high for as long as you can. The fantasy man leaves your thoughts as you come back down to earth, alone again in your room. Finally, you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling of your room. The chatroom dings and dings.

Now that you’ve reached your high, the flames of your arousal abruptly extinguishes, an icy current of mortification at what you’ve done hits you in waves. You sit up shakily, wiping the sweat off your brow. Too scared to look at your reflection, you look down at your keyboard instead, trying to steady your breathing.

“Thank you for coming to my first broadcast. I’m going to log off now.”

Instead of shutting off the stream you hold down the power button of your laptop to turn your entire computer off. You lay back down as your phone vibrates with a notification. The total sum of what you made on your first live stream. You can’t believe it, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. You pull the mask off your face and throw the offending material across the room. As you steady your breathing you push down the regret that creeps over you, thoughts that ring in your ears like a lecture from your mother, feeling shame and disgust at what you allowed yourself to become. Whatever, you did what you had to do.

---

It’s an hour before you have to clock out on your last shift of the week. Your manager pulls you aside to speak with you. There’s concern in his voice and a frown etched on his face, “He is here again.”

“Oh,” you grimace, why is he so early?! “He’s, um, here to pick me up.”

Your manager’s eyes go wide. “You’re going to go somewhere with that psycho?”

“I-I can’t say.”

“If it’s money again I can see about getting you some more hours.” He grabs a clipboard off the back wall, flipping through the schedule.

You wince. “No, it’s just something I have to do and then this should all be over and done with. It will be fine.” Will it be fine? You hope so.

He gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure? You’re sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t know, but you nod your head regardless, “Yes.”

“Okay,” He sighs, still looking worried, “I’ll see you Monday?”

You give him a reassuring smile. “See you Monday. Have a good weekend.”

---

An hour later you clock out and Yoongi makes his way next to you. You were grateful he didn’t make another scene, he had sat in the corner sipping on coffee, hardly paying attention to you. He didn’t have to, not when he had your store's camera system connected to his phone.

You look him over, Yoongi looks as posh as ever. He wears all black, and tight pants that show off his, well anyways, why does he have to look so good? You huff, staring anywhere else, motioning your arm, “After you.”

The man gives you a wicked smile and offers you his arm. You resist the urge to roll your eyes, but reach for his elbow. You felt silly in your dirty work clothes holding onto him. Why did you even bother waking up early today to put on a face full of makeup when you just ended up sweating it off?

"Your manager doesn't seem happy to see me," he teases.

"I wonder why..." you send him a glare.

Of course this motherfucker has a Rolls Royce. You grumble next to him. Yoongi opens the passenger’s door for you and you slide inside. When was the last time someone has done that for you? Tinder culture has really screwed you in more ways than one. You watch as he circles to the other side, he looks so powerful and sexy.

Stop, what's gotten into you?! You push down the butterflies fluttering around in the pit of your stomach. When he starts the car, he leans over to you, invading your space and making you flinch.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” His eyes travel down your body, “Unless you want me to.” His face is too close to yours, you can feel his breath on your skin as he smirks down at you.

He reaches for the strap of your seat belt, his body now entirely pressed up against yours and he pulls on the strap and buckles it for you. Your face grows hot, it felt like he was teasing you, his presence leaving you as quickly as it came. You swallow down the lump in your throat, wishing you had water for your suddenly dry mouth.

He had smelled good. Manly. It’s been so damn long since you’ve been on a date, under the excuse of social distancing, but really you’ve just stopped trying to go out on boring typical dates with normal boring men so you can have boring vanilla sex. It was a hassle, you had gotten used to the instant gratification from your viewers. But now you had neither. That's why you were so wound up, not because you wanted this smug asshole, no way.

As he reversed, you realize you have to give him your address. You bite your lower lip, thinking what to do. Maybe you can get him to drop you off somewhere close by, but Yoongi is already setting up the GPS with another location.

“Umm, I thought we were going to stop by my house first.”

“Why?”

“So I can change?”

“Not necessary, you can change on the boat. I have clothes for you since I noticed you never cashed my check.” His piercing eyes flash with anger, the accusation making you shift uncomfortably. Cashing Yoongi's check made what was happening feel like a transaction, and you weren't willing to give him that power over you.

“I-I did not agree to get on a boat with you,” you frown, red flags popping up in your head at the thought of being alone in the middle of nowhere, out at sea, with a stranger who says he’ll hurt you if you ask him to.

“You agreed to go to a party with me. That’s how we get to the party, sweetheart.”

Dammit.

---

When Yoongi said boat you didn’t realize he meant yacht. It’s huge. He leads you into the main cabin, there are clothes already laid out for you on the bed.

He shows you how to work the shower before leaving you alone. You know you were washing off the sweat and grime of the day to make yourself presentable for this party of his, but why did you feel like you were cleaning yourself up for Yoongi specifically. It made you feel uneasy. You tried to silence the alarm bells ringing in your head and focus on getting ready. It's just one night out and then you can say goodbye to Yoongi forever.

The dress was black and tight. It hugged your curves and showed off your cleavage. You can admit it was a hot dress and you felt hot in it. It’s exactly the style you like, as if Yoongi had pulled it right out from one of your favorite Pinterest boards. You sigh as you look at yourself in the mirror, the dress came with a set of lingerie that you almost didn’t put on, embarrassed by wearing underwear picked out by a man you knew nothing about. This wasn't like the times you let your viewers choose your outfits for broadcast, this was different...right?

You decide to go all out with makeup, realizing there is no doubt going to be many beautiful people at this party that look as attractive and expensive as Yoongi, so you might as well try to blend in. You put on the finishing touches, a dark red lip, when there’s a knock on the door.

Yoongi walks in, he’s changed too. He's wearing a black button down and black pants, it matches your outfit. Almost all of his fingers are adorned with silver rings. His hair styled in an unkept bedhead way that makes him look younger. You try not to stare or think about how ridiculously handsome he looks.

You look breathtaking, Yoongi thinks, ‘Only one thing missing.’ He pulls out a black choker with a gold pendant from his pocket. “For you, I think it completes the look.” He gives you a genuine smile.

“I-I...Thank you.” you don’t know what else to say. His fingertips graze your collarbones, lighting a trail of fire across your chest. Yoongi clasps the choker around your neck, the pull against your sensitive skin gives you goosebumps. His pointer finger finds its way under your jaw to lift your chin up. “Ready for some fun?” You leave with Yoongi before you have time to inspect his present, notice that on the gold heart pendant there are initials delicately scrawled in the middle. ‘MYG’

---

You enter the party mesmerized. An island. A mansion. A secret paradise. A place where the party never needed to end.

The hall is decorated from top to bottom in gold and crystal, intricate glass centerpieces and art at every corner, but what caught your eye and made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach was an entirely different kind of centerpiece. Around the main room, suspended from the ceiling, gold ropes dropped in a dozen different areas. The most beautiful women you’ve ever seen hung under spotlights, the rope tied in intricate patterns around their naked bodies, each placed in a different position. Saliva pooled inside your mouth as you watched in awe.

Party goers gravitated to them, watching the women as they ate finger food and drank. Yoongi’s breath tickled the back of your neck as he whispered in your ear. “You look like you want to join them,” His dark eyes narrowed on you.

“I’m just admiring the view,” you try to act unaffected by his words, “Don’t get your hopes up. I’m hungry,” you whine, changing the subject, you let Yoongi pull you through the crowd.

---

Jungkook grips his wine glass so tight the stem breaks in half, the glass pieces cutting the palm of his hand. He is so full of rage he barely feels the sting, letting the blood drip on his expensive suit. That conniving little man Yoongi has his hands all over your body. How did he have you? Had this been his plan all along? Did Yoongi convince you to leave the site so he could have you all to himself? And you fell into his trap! Jungkook knows it’s not your fault for being manipulated, he knows how devious his business partner can be, but he wants to punish you just the same. He has to tell someone. Taehyung will know what to do! He searches for his friend, before he goes straight to Yoongi and kills him instead.

---

“Min, please introduce us to your date!” The crowd parts as two men advance towards Yoongi. You were just getting used to Yoongi’s cold reserved demeanor when his friends’ beaming playful attitude catch you off guard. The pair is full of energy, they commanded attention, and you could tell by their looks they most certainly were used to being in the center of it.

“You know who she is,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, his hand around your waist pulling you closer to him. What did he mean? Were they-

“But we haven’t formally met! I’m Hoseok, you can call me Hobi.” He winks at you and gives you a bright smile. “This is Jimin!”

‘Jimin.’ That name is familiar to you. No way, this beautiful man is not your Jimin. Not one of your top donators Jimin. No way in hell-

“I’m so happy to have finally met you in person, Dahlia.” Jimin holds your hand in his and brings your fingers to his lips, giving you a small wink. Oh my god he’s attractive. This is the same man who paid you for late night private chats, crying about how lonely he was, he is that Jimin. You’re so astonished you don’t even register the way Yoongi’s fingers dig into your hip in jealousy.

Hoseok and Jimin are fun. The three of you drink another round of sparkling champagne as the duo takes turns telling you wild stories, making you dissolve into a fit of giggles. Yoongi sips on his whisky while he watches the three of you roar with laughter. He doesn’t mind, he uses their charm to his advantage. As expected around the extroverted pair you start feeling more comfortable, you let your guard down around Yoongi, so Yoongi doesn’t mind. You're his date after all, you’re his.

“Looks like everyone made it!” Jimin waves at a trio of men headed towards your group.

“Almost everyone,” Yoongi corrects. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and you lean into him, your body swaying from the alcohol in your system. Yoongi delights in the way the men looked at you in his arms, the visible shock and anger on their faces. “Y/n, this is Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.”

You nod in their direction, barely regarding them, instead giggling at Jimin who is making a funny face at you trying to steal your attention.

“Namjoon says he’s sorry he couldn’t make it, something came up.” Taehyung addresses Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns at the information, it’s not like Joon to change plans so suddenly.

“I need to use the restroom, excuse me.”

“I’ll show you where it is,” Yoongi begins to take you, but Taehyung’s hand grips Yoongi’s shoulder, pulling him back. “Let the lady go, it’s been so long since we’ve all seen you, Yoongi. I missed my friend. You can make your way, right baby?”

Six heads turn to look at you and you feel hot under their intense stares. “Um, yea-yes, I’ll be right back.” You leave before Yoongi can protest.

---

This place is huge. You can’t remember how you found the bathroom or how to get back to Yoongi, and the room felt like it was spinning. The party had become louder, more obnoxious as drugs and alcohol loosened everyone’s inhibitions.

You shouldn’t have drank so much, you didn’t realize how much alcohol Jimin and Hobi had been feeding you until it was too late, and now you could barely make out people’s faces. What are you going to do? Yoongi had your cell in his pocket, why did you give it to him? Jimin had grabbed it out of your hand to put his contact information in, and handed it back to Yoongi instead. You didn't even protest, you were too busy being mesmerized by Hoseok as he swayed his hips to the music playing, rolling his body to the beat.

You lean against an empty space of wall, between two couples obnoxiously making out. You’re all alone in a strange house with no way to call for help, the gravity of your situation hits you all at once and your head begins to throb.

Maybe if you can make it to the second floor you can spot Yoongi and the others in the crowd. You stumble your way to the stairs, hoping your plan works.

You see Yoongi. The bastard is still drinking his whisky while his friend’s banter amongst themselves. You exhale, finally calming down. The fresh air away from everyone helps to take away your dizziness. You watch the six men, they are all so good looking. They have to be the most attractive men at the party. You didn’t notice how intimidating the group looks, finding it funny how party goers instinctively keep their distance from them.

The three new men are tall and big, they could be models, or maybe athletes, you should have paid attention when Yoongi was introducing you to them. What were their names, Junhyung? Taejung? If Yoongi was a House member, and Jimin was a House member, could they all be...no.

You’re about to turn to leave when hands cover your mouth and grab at your waist. Your scream is completely muffled out behind the stranger’s large hand.

He holds you in a suffocating embrace, covering both your mouth and nose, you realize you really cannot breathe. You try to pry his hand off your face but it’s impossible, he’s too strong and too big, easily overpowering you. The air in your lungs is trapped inside of you as you try to scream. Is this how you die?

“Hey baby.”

‘RM.’ The last time you met him, you had your vision taken, so you could never forget the unmistakable deep rumble of his voice.

Your mind is reeling. You stop fighting against his hold and he finally removes his hand, placing it around your neck instead. You gasp and cough out, inhaling air quickly, afraid your breath will be taken away again.

You guess it made sense, first Jimin now RM, were all the party goers members too? The thought terrified you. You had no idea what your viewers looked like, yet they all knew what you looked like naked. Just how many knew who you were? It made you queasy, you shudder against RM. RM, a top donator, plastered against your back, it felt like a fever dream.

You remember all the times you flirted with him behind the protection of your computer screen, now there were no digital barriers to stop his advances. No house rules to lessen his stifling touches.

“I missed you, baby. I’m a little upset you stayed away for so long, but seeing you here dressed up so pretty, like a present I get to unwrap, I can forgive you.” The hand that held your waist down against him traveled up your stomach, between your breasts, until it settled around your neck as well. “I’m so so glad you came back to us.” His deep velvet voice rumbled in your ear, making your legs tremble.

His strong fingers begin to massage your neck. It feels so good, you bite back a moan. Namjoon rubs deep circles into your shoulder blades. You can’t help but melt into his relaxing massage, your nerves had been wound so tightly before, his expert fingers finding each knotted muscle in your back. You try to sneak a glance behind you, but every time you try, Namjoon’s hands find your jaw, keeping your attention forward.

“How is Yoongi treating you?” RM knows Yoongi? You felt so out of the loop, you tried to make sense of it all but you could only concentrate on the way his fingers pressed against your skin.

“He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

“A 'gentleman,'” Namjoon laughs, “Are we talking about the same man?” You roll your head as his fingers work the tense muscles of your neck. His thumb runs underneath your choker, ever so slightly tightening the fabric around your skin. “He was planning to keep you all to himself,” Namjoon tuts.

Anger erupts inside of him as he notices the piece of jewelry, and he pulls you into another crushing embrace, his hands underneath the curves of your breasts. “Now what would he do if he saw you in my arms, hmm?” He makes you walk back to the balcony, hands groping your chest and body pressing you forward into the banister. Truthfully, you’re scared of what Yoongi would do if he saw you, you had no idea what he was capable of, but the pleasure RM was giving you was hard to fight against.

“RM, please...” you don’t know what you’re begging him for, to let you go, to touch you more.

“Look at him.” His voice deepens, his authoritative tone makes you whimper in his arms.

His arms travel to your waist, his fingers pulling at the hem of your dress, lifting it tortuously slow. His fingertips ghost over your lace panties. “Look at how wet you are, dirty girl.” He pulls them down your thighs. If anyone were to look up, they’d see you completely bare. The thought makes you pulse.

Taehyung and Jungkook had come to Namjoon to tell him what Yoongi had done. Namjoon almost felt bad, Yoongi was like a brother to him, so Namjoon knew how much he cared about you. But why would he parade you around in front of the others, like a sweet treat on a platter? Yoongi surely knew them all well enough to know they'd want to take a bite.

“Now keep your eyes on Yoongi, what is he doing right now?”

You start to speak and Namjoon pushes two fingers inside you, all the way in to his knuckles. You let out a gasp, and he pinches the sensitive skin of breast through your dress. “Answer daddy, baby girl.”

You fight back tears, your mouth goes dry as you try to hold yourself together. “H-he’s talking to Hobi.” Namjoon inserts another finger into you at the nickname you use for his friend, the stretch is bordering on painful, making you cry out. You try to stifle your whimpers, it just turns Namjoon on even more. He grinds his erection into your ass. His smell, his dirty words, his roughness, you've forgotten how much you craved it.

“Hobi, is it? When did you and him become so friendly? Baby, you’re making me jealous. Is that what you want?” With three fingers inside you, he sets a punishing pace. It’s been awhile since you’ve felt so full. Perhaps the last time you truly felt like this was by RM himself. You pulse around his fingers at the memory. Your legs shake as his thumb finds your clit, pressing into your sensitive hood. “P-please…”

“Please what?”

“Please let me cum, Daddy.”

He groans in your ear. “Hmm no.” He pulls his fingers out of you, you hold onto the banister as your orgasm escapes you. Your body shakes with need.

“You’ll come find me later tonight, won’t you, baby girl?” His warmth leaves your body, when you turn around no one is there.

---

Oh my so many questions, not many answers. Will you see your manager on Monday? Lol thank you again for enjoying my story, let me know what you think! <3